I shouldn't think the town would use such an old thing." Gypsy's face fell, and her welcome grew faint.
Joy had but little to say at supper.

She sat by her father and ate her muffins like a very hungry, tired child--like a very cross child, Gypsy thought.

Joy's face was always pale and fretful; in the bright lamplight now, after the exhaustion of the long journey, it had a pinched, unpleasant look.
"Hem," coughed Tom, over his teacup.

Gypsy looked up and their eyes met.
That look said unutterable things.
[Illustration] If it had not been for Mrs.Breynton, that supper would have been a dismal affair.

But she had such a cozy, comfortable way about her, that nobody could help being cozy and comfortable if they tried hard for it.
After a while, when Mr.Breynton and his brother had gone away into the library for a talk by themselves, and Joy began to feel somewhat rested, she brightened up wonderfully, and became really quite entertaining in her account of her journey.