CHAPTER XVI.

  OUR GIPSY.

  "Leaping spirits bright as air, Dancing heart untouched by care, Sparkling eye and laughing brow, And mirthful cheek of joyous glow."

  In the spring Louis and Archie were to go to New York and enter college.The squire, who was dying by inches of the inaction at Sunset Hall,resolved to accompany them; and Lizzie, rousing herself from herindolence, also resolved to accompany them. Doctor Wiseman intendedsending Minnette to boarding-school, and Miss Hagar offered to sendCeleste, likewise, if she would go; but Celeste pleaded to remain and goto the Sisters; and as it happened to be just what Miss Hagar wished,she consented.

  The evening before that fixed for the departure of the boys was spent bythem at the Valley Cottage. Archie was in unusually boisterous spirits,and laughed till he made the house ring. Louis, on the contrary, wassilent and grave, thinking sadly of leaving home and of parting with hisfriends.

  Celeste, who always caught her tone from those around her, was onemoment all smiles at one gay sally of Archie's, and the next sighingsoftly as her eye fell upon the grief-bowed young head of Louis. MissHagar sat by the fire knitting, as stiff, and solemn, and grave asusual.

  "It will be a year--twelve whole months--before we all meet again," saidLouis, with a sigh.

  "Oh, dear!" said Celeste, her eyes filling with tears; "it will be _so_lonesome. It seems to me the time will never pass."

  "Oh, it will pass--never fear," said Archie, in the confident tone ofone who knows he is asserting a fact; "and we'll come back youngcollegians--decidedly fast young men--_Mirabile dictu_--that'sLatin--and I'll marry you, sis. Oh, I forgot Gipsy."

  Here Archie's face suddenly fell to a formidable length, and he heaved asigh that would have inflated a balloon.

  "Oh, if Gipsy were here it wouldn't be a bit lonesome--I mean, not somuch. Minnette's going away, too," said Celeste, sadly.

  "Well, you needn't care for her, I'm sure," said Archie, gruffly. "She'sas sharp as a bottle of cayenne pepper, and as sour as an unripecrab-apple. For my part, I'm glad to be out of the way of herdagger-tongue."

  "Oh, Archie, please don't," said Celeste, gently. "How do you know butshe likes you now, after all?"

  "Likes me? Oh, that's too good. Hold me, somebody, or I'll split!"exclaimed Archie, going off into an inextinguishable fit of laughter atthe very idea.

  Louis rose and went to the door; Celeste followed him, leaving Archie torecover from his laughter and expatiate to Miss Hagar on the pleasuresand prospects he hoped to enjoy in Gotham.

  It was a beautiful moonlight night. The bright May moon shed a shower ofsilvery glory over the cottage, and bathed them in its refulgent light.

  "Oh, Louis, what is the matter?" said Celeste, laying her hand on hisarm. "Are you so sorry for leaving home?"

  "I don't care for that, Celeste; I am sorry to leave you."

  "But it's only for a year. I will be here when you come back."

  "Will you, Celeste?"

  "Why, yes, Louis, of course I will."

  "Oh, no, you won't, Celeste. There will be something here taller andmore womanly, who will talk and act like a young lady, and whom I willcall Miss Pearl; but the little, gentle Celeste will be here no longer."

  "Well, won't it be the same with you?" said Celeste, with an arch smile."Something will come back taller and more manly, who will talk and actlike a young gentleman, and whom I must call Mr. Oranmore, I suppose.But the Louis who brings me pretty books, and calls me 'the Star of theValley,' I will never see again."

  "Oh, Celeste, you know better than that. Will you think of me sometimeswhen I am gone?"

  "Oh, yes, always. What a strange question! Why, I never thought ofasking you to think of me, though you are going among so many strangers,who will make you forget all your old friends."

  "You know I couldn't forget any of my old friends, Celeste, much lessyou. I shall think of you, and Miss Hagar, and Mrs. Gower, and--yes, andpoor Gipsy every day. See, I have brought you a parting gift, Celeste,for your celestial little neck."

  So saying, he drew out a little gold chain and cross, and threw it overthe graceful neck that bent to receive it.

  "Oh, thank you, dear Louis. I shall prize your gift so much. How kindand thoughtful of you! I wish I had something to give you in return."

  "One of your curls will do."

  "Will it? Oh, then you shall have it."

  So saying, she drew out a tiny pair of scissors and severed a long,shining ring of gold from her bright little head.

  "Hallo! what's this? Exchanging true lovers' tokens, by all that'stender! Ha, ha, ha!" shouted Master Rivers, appearing suddenly, androaring with laughter.

  "Confound you!" muttered Louis, giving him a shake. "And now I must goand bid Miss Hagar good-bye. Archie, go off and bring the gig round.Celeste, stay here; I'll be with you again in a minute."

  So saying, Louis entered the cottage, shook hands with the hoaryspinster, who bade him be a good boy, and not bring back any cityhabits. Then going to the door, where Celeste still stood looking on hercross, and closing her eyes to force back the tears that were fastgathering in them, he took her in his arms and said:

  "And now good-bye, little darling. Don't quite forget Louis."

  "Oh, Louis," was all she could say, as she clung to his neck and sobbedon his shoulder.

  He compressed his lips and resolutely unclasped her clinging arms; thenpressing his lips to her fair brow, he leaped into the gig, seized thereins, and, in his excitement, dashed off, quite forgetting Archie, whohad lingered to say good-bye to Celeste.

  Archie rushed after him, shouting "Stop thief! stop thief!" until Louis,discovering his mistake, pulled up, and admitted that wronged andjustly-indignant young gentleman.

  "Now for Deep Dale, to bid good-bye to Minnette and Old Nick," saidArchie, irreverently, "and then hie for Sunset Hall."

  "Yes, poor Celeste," said Louis, with a sigh, evidently forgetting hehad a companion; whereupon Archie again went into convulsions oflaughter, kicking up his heels and snapping his fingers in an ectasy ofdelight. Louis found his example so contagious, that--after trying for afew moments to preserve his gravity--he, too, was forced to join in hisuproarious mirth.

  On their arrival at Deep Dale they found the doctor in his study. Louisbade him a formal farewell; and having learned that Minnette was in theparlor, he went down to seek her, accompanied by Archie.

  She sat in her usual attitude, gazing intently out of the window at thecold moonlight. She looked up as they entered, and started violently asshe perceived who were her visitors.

  "Well, Minnette, we've come to bid you good-bye," said Archie, gayly,throwing his arms round her neck and imprinting a cousinly salute on hercheek. "Good-bye for twelve months, and then hie for home and a happymeeting. Louis, I leave you to make your adieux to Minnette, while Imake mine to old Suse, down in the kitchen. Mind, Minnette, don't givehim one of your curls, as I saw another little girl do awhile ago,unless he gives you a gold cross and chain in return for it--he gave herone." And with a mischievous laugh, Archie clattered down stairs, takinghalf the staircase at a bound.

  She drew herself back and up; and the hand she had half extended to meethis was withdrawn, as, with a cold formal bow, she said:

  "Farewell! I wish you a safe journey and a happy return."

  "And nothing more? Oh, Minnette! Is it thus old friends, who have knowneach other from childhood, are to part? Just think, we may never meetagain!"

  "_Do you care?_" she asked, in a softened voice.

  "Care! Of course I do. Won't you shake hands, Minnette! You're not halfas sorry to let me go as little Celeste was."

  "Oh, no; I don't lose so much. I have no books, nor flowers, nor visits,nor gold crosses to lose by your absence," she said, sarcastically--herface, that had softened for a moment, growing cold and hard at themention of her name. "Good-bye Louis, and--I wish you all success andhappiness."

  The hand she extended was cold as ice. He pressed it betwe
en his, andgazed sadly into the clear, bright eyes that defiantly met his own.

  "Come, Louis, don't stay there all night!" called Archie, impatiently."Old Suse has been hugging and kissing me till I was half smothered,down there in the kitchen; and it didn't take her half the time it doesyou two. Come along."

  "Good-bye! good-bye!" said Louis, waving his hand to Minnette, whofollowed him to the door; and the next moment they were dashing along atbreak-neck speed toward Sunset Hall.

  The moonlight that night fell on Celeste, kneeling in her own littleroom, praying for Louis and Archie, and sobbing in unrestrained griefwhenever her eye fell upon the bright gold cross--_his_ parting gift.Appropriate gift from one who seemed destined to never lay aught but_crosses_ upon her!

  It fell upon Minnette, sitting still by the window, with a face as coldand white as the moonlight on which she gazed. She did not love LouisOranmore; but she admired him--liked him better than any one else sheknew, perhaps, because he was handsome. But she hated Celeste; and hisevident preference for her kindled up the flames of jealousy in herpassionate soul, until she could have killed her without remorse.

  The next morning the gay party set out for New York; and in due courseof time they reached that city, and put up at one of the best hotels.

  "Suppose we go to the opera to-night?" said Lizzie to the squire, as shesat--all her languor gone--looking out of the window at the stream oflife flowing below.

  "Just as you like--it's all one to me," said the squire, with mostsublime indifference.

  "Then the opera be it," said Lizzie, and the opera, accordingly, it was.And a few hours later found them comfortably seated, listening to themusic, and gazing on the gayly-attired people around them.

  "How delightful this is!" exclaimed Lizzie, her eyes sparkling withpleasure.

  "Humph!--delightful! Set of fools! 'All is vanity,' as Solomon says.Wonder who foots the bills for all this glittering and shaking toggery?"grunted the squire.

  "I've heard them say that the young _danseuse_, 'La Petite Eaglet,' isgoing to dance to-night," said Louis. "Everybody's raving about her."

  "Why? Is she so beautiful?" inquired Lizzie.

  "No, I believe not; it's because she dances so well," replied Louis.

  At this moment the curtain arose, a thunder of applause shook the house,and La Petite Eaglet herself stood before them. A little straight, lithefigure, arrayed in floating, gauzy robes of white silver tissue, andcrowned with white roses--a small, dark, keen, piquant face--bright,roguish eyes, that went dancing like lightning around the house.Suddenly her eye fell on our party from St. Mark's; a slight start and aquick removal of her eyes followed. The applause grew deafening as thepeople hailed their favorite. She bowed. The music struck merrily up,and her tiny feet went glancing, like rain-drops, here and there. Sheseemed floating in air, not touching the ground, as she whirled, andflew, and skimmed like a bird in the sunshine. The squire wasdizzy--absolutely dizzy--looking at her. His head was going round,spinning like a top, or like her feet, as he gazed. Lizzie and Louiswere entranced, but Archie, after the first glance, sat with dilatingeyes and parted lips--incredulous, amazed, bewildered--with a look ofhalf-puzzled, half-delighted recognition on his face.

  Still the little dancer whirled and pirouetted before them; and when sheceased a shout of applause thundered through the building, shaking it toits center. Flowers, wreaths, and bouquets fell in showers around her;ladies waved their handkerchiefs and clapped their little hands in theexcitement of the moment. The opera-going world seemed to have gone mad.And there stood the little Eaglet, bowing to the delighted audience, thevery impersonification of self-possession and grace.

  Suddenly, rising as if to speak, she removed the crown of roses from herhead. There was a profound, a dead silence, where lately all had beenuproar. Every eye was bent in wonder--every neck was strained to seewhat she was about to do.

  Taking one step forward, she fixed her eyes on the box occupied by thesquire and his family. Every eye, as a matter of course, turned in thatdirection likewise. Raising the wreath, she threw it toward them, and italighted in triumph on the brow of the squire.

  In a moment she was gone. Up sprang Archie, quite regardless of thethousands of eyes upon him, and waving his cap in the air above hishead, he shouted, in wild exultation:

  "I knew it! I knew it! _It's our Gipsy!--it's Gipsy Gower!_"