CHAPTER XII
A Spartan Maiden
The Spring Term was passing rapidly, and Gipsy had now been nearly six months at Briarcroft. It felt a very, very long time to her since the first evening when she had introduced herself in so sprightly a fashion to her fellow boarders, and had given them a graphic account of the shipwreck. The old Gipsy of last October and the new Gipsy of the present March seemed like two different people, with a whole world of experience to divide them. The well-conducted regime of Briarcroft had had its due effect, and had considerably toned down her unconventional Colonial ways; while the trouble through which she was passing, like all seasons of adversity, had made her older and more thoughtful than before. There was still no news of any kind from her father, and no answer had yet been received from the cousins in New Zealand. Miss Poppleton's manner towards Gipsy hardened a little more each week that mail day arrived and brought no solution of the problem where her school fees were to come from. At present her attitude was that of grim acceptance of a most unwelcome burden. She was not actively unkind,
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