'All the other girls have got mothers, and now I won't ever have any, any more.

I did used to bother you and be cross about my practising, and not do as you told me, and I wish I hadn't, and-- "Oh--hum, look here--mother," interrupted Gypsy, jumping up and winking very fast, "isn't there a train up from Boston early Monday morning?
She might come in that, you know." Mrs.Breynton smiled.
"Then she may come, may she ?" "I rather think she may," said Gypsy, with an emphasis.

"I'll write her a letter and tell her so." "That will be a good plan, Gypsy.

But you are quite sure?
I don't want you to decide this matter in too much of a hurry." "She'll sleep in the front room, of course ?" suggested Gypsy.
"No; if she comes, she must sleep with you.

With our family and only one servant, I could hardly keep up the extra work that would cause for six months or a year." "Six months or a year! In my room!" Gypsy walked back and forth across the room two or three times, her merry forehead all wrinkled into a knot.
"Well," at last, "I've said it, and I'll stick to it, and I'll try to make her have a good time, anyway." "Come here, Gypsy." Gypsy came, and one of those rare, soft kisses--very different from the ordinary, everyday kisses--that her mother gave her when she hadn't just the words to say how pleased she was, fell on her forehead, and smoothed out the knot before you could say "Jack Robinson." That very afternoon Gypsy wrote her note to Joy: "Dear Joy: "I'm real sorry your mother died.