Seems to me she did have a veil or suthin'." "And she was real pale ?" cried Gypsy, "and the boy was dreadfully muddy ?" "Couldn't say as to that"-- the small boy began to hesitate and look very wise--"don't seem to remember the mud, and on the whole, I ain't partiklar sure 'bout the veil.

Oh, come to think on't, it wasn't a gal; it was a deaf old woman, an' there warn't no boy noways." Well was it for the small boy that, as the carriage rattled on, he took good care to be out of the reach of Tom's whip-lash.
It grew darker and colder, and the red moon rode on silently in the sky.
They had come now to the opening of the cross-road, but there were no signs of the children--only the still road and the shadows under the trees.
"Hark! what's that ?" said Mr.Breynton, suddenly.

He stopped the carriage, and they all listened.

A faint, sobbing sound broke the silence.

Gypsy leaned over the side of the carriage, peering in among the trees where the shadow was blackest.
"Father, may I get out a minute ?" She sprang over the wheel, ran into the cross-road, into a clump of bushes, pushed them aside, screamed for joy.
"Here they are, here they are--quick, quick! Oh, Winnie Breynton, do just wake up and let me look at you! Oh, Joy, I _am_ so glad!" And there on the ground, true enough, sat Joy, exhausted and frightened and sobbing, with Winnie sound asleep in her lap.
"I didn't know the way, and Winnie kept telling me wrong, and, oh, I was _so_ tired, and I sat down to rest, and it is so dark, and--and oh, I thought nobody'd ever come!" And poor Joy sprang into her uncle's arms, and cried as hard as she could cry.
Joy was thoroughly tired and chilled; it seemed that she had had to carry Winnie in her arms a large part of the way, and the child was by no means a light weight.