But it ended in Gypsy's bringing her triumphantly downstairs, where were the lights and the fire, and the pleasant room, and another cricket waiting at Mrs.
Breynton's feet.
They were very busy after this with the coming Christmas.

Joy confidently expected a five-dollar bill from her father, and Gypsy cherished faint aspirations after a portfolio with purple roses on it.
But most of their thoughts, and all their energies, were occupied with the little gifts they intended to make themselves; and herein lay a difficulty.

Joy's father always supplied her bountifully with spending money; Gypsy's stock was small.

When Joy wanted to make a present, she had only to ask for a few extra dollars, and she had them.

Gypsy always felt as if a present given in that way were no present; unless a thing cost her some self-denial, or some labor, she reasoned, it had nothing to do with her.