On the mountains it was quite blotted out by the gathering darkness.
"What _shall_ I do ?" cried Gypsy, thinking, with a great sinking at her heart, how cold the nights were now, and how early it grew quite dark.
"Hev you been 'long that ere cross-road 't opens aout through the woods onto the three-mile square ?" asked Mr.Jonathan.

"I've been a thinkin' on't as heow the young uns might ha took that ere ef they was flustered beout knowin' the way neow mos' likely." "Oh, what a splendid, good man you are!" said Gypsy, jumping up and down, and clapping her hands with delight.

"Nobody thought of that, and I'll never run over your plowed-up land again as long as ever I live, and I'm going right to tell father, and you see if I do!" Her father wondered that they had not thought of it, and old Billy was harnessed in a hurry, and they started for the three-mile cross-roads.
Gypsy went with them.

Nobody spoke to her except to ask questions now and then as to the precise direction the children took, and the time they started for home.

Gypsy leaned back in the carriage, peering out into the gloom on either side, calling Joy's name now and then, or Winnie's, and busy with her own wretched thoughts.