Dick gave the fender a vicious kick ere he replied: "I tell you what it is, Win: one of these days I'll run away. No, no; don't strangle me and say I won't, for I tell you I _will_. A fellow can't be expected to stand this sort of thing all his life. I'm sick of it. Hallo! what's up?" for Winnie's arms were clasped tightly round his neck and the great tears were running silently down her cheeks.
"Don't go, Dick, oh, don't go!" she pleaded frantically, half choking the boy with her violent embraces. "Whatever should I do without you? Dick, you must not go; only wait, and all will come right in the end. Promise, promise!" and the little gipsy face looked pitiful in its wild terror.
"There, there, dry your eyes, you wee goose; I was only teasing you. Why, what a disconsolate-looking object somebody is!" and laughing his sister out of her fright, the two sat chatting merrily till bed-time, when Winnie went away to her own dainty room, and Dick also sought his den.
Then, when alone in the darkness, the merriment died out of his face, and as he lay thinking over his wrongs, real and imaginary, bitter feelings swept over his heart, and the idle threat began to form itself into fixed determination. "I would go right off to-night were it not for Win," he muttered, tossing restlessly on his pillows; "but I guess she would fret sorely, and--'there's the rub.'" Another Shakespearian quotation. "Well, well, I'll sleep over it;" and then Dick wandered into the land of dreams, to be haunted by the vision of a quaint gipsy face and great pleading eyes--a vision which rose up before him again and again in after years, when he was out on the great waste of waters, and the soft moon and shining stars seemed to whisper of home and loving hearts.
One Saturday afternoon, about a week after the events recorded in the last chapter, Miss Latimer stood at the window of her cosy parlour looking out into the quiet street with its small semi-detached villas and cottages, the tiny gardens of which were now strown with the falling autumn leaves. There was a slight look of expectancy in her eyes and pleased expression on her face calculated to give any beholder the idea that Aunt Judith was watching for something or somebody. And so she was; for Winnifred Blake had gladly accepted the invitation to spend that afternoon and evening at Dingle Cottage, much to Nellie's delight; and that young lady, too impatient to await her guest's arrival, had gone part of the way to meet the expected visitor.