What with various wire-pullings of Gypsy's, and arguments from Tom, the result was that Mr.Breynton gave his consent to the plan, on condition that the young people would submit to his accompanying them.
"That's perfectly splend," cried Gypsy; "all the better for having you.
Only, my best beloved of fathers, you mustn't keep saying, 'Gypsy, Gypsy, be careful,' you know, every time my horse jumps, because if you should, I'm very much afraid." [Illustration] "Afraid of what ?" "That Gypsy wouldn't be careful," said the young lady, folding her hands demurely.

Her father attempted to call her a sauce-box but Gypsy jumped upon his knee, and pulled his whiskers till he cried out for mercy, and gave her a kiss instead.
There was an undercurrent of reality in the fun, however.

Mr.Breynton's over-anxiety--fussiness, some people would have called it--his children were perfectly conscious of; children are apt to be the first to discover their parents' faults and weaknesses.

Gypsy loved her father dearly, but she somehow always felt as if he must be _managed_.
So it came about that on a certain royal June day, a merry party started for a horseback ride up Rattlesnake mountain.
"I've a good mind to take my waterproof," said Joy, as they were starting; "we may not be back till late, and you know how cold it grows by the river after dark." "Nonsense!" laughed Gypsy; "why, the thermometer's 80 deg.

already." Nevertheless, Joy went back and got the waterproof.