ng, and it raining too--to have them
catch their deaths of cold just as I've some chance of making up for all
the trouble they've cost me. Fool that I was to be bothered with them.
But you're not a-going to spoil all now--that I can tell ye."

Diana looked at him without speaking. She was not at all in the habit of
giving in to him, but she knew that a quarrel terrified the children.
She felt too, as she lifted her dark face to the clouded sky, that it
was really raining, and she reflected that there might be truth in what
Mick said so rudely.

[Illustration: "THEY WANT OUT A BIT," SHE SAID. "THEY'RE TIRED LIKE WITH
BEING MEWED UP IN THERE ALL DAY AND NEVER A BREATH OF AIR--NO
WONDER."--p. 132.]

"I think it is too cold and damp for you," she said turning to the door
where the two little white faces were looking out piteously. "Never
mind," she added in a lower tone, "I'll come back in a minute, and we'll
open the window to let some air in, and then I'll sing you to sleep."

Tim could scarcely believe his ears to hear the rough harsh Diana
speaking so gently.

"If _she'd_ help us," he thought to himself, "there'd be some chance
then."

But he remained quite still, crouching in the shelter of the van--almost
indeed under it--he was so anxious to hear more of Mick's plans if he
could, for he noticed that the gipsy hung about while the girl was
speaking to the children, as if he had something to say to her unheard
by them.

They were so frightened of him that they drew back into the dark
recesses of the van, and when they were no longer to be seen, Mick
pulled Diana's sleeve to attract her attention.

"Just you listen to me, girl, will ye?" he said. "I'll stand none of
your nonsense--thinking to queen it over us all. Now just listen to me."

Diana shook his hand off her arm.

"I'll listen if you'll speak civil, Mick," she said. "What is it you've
got to say?"

She spoke quietly but sternly, and he seemed frightened. He had
evidently been drinking more than of late, and Tim shuddered at the
thought of what might happen if he were to get into one of his regular
tipsy fits while the children were still there.

"It's along o' them childer," said Mick, though less roughly now.
"You're a-spoiling of them, and I won't have it. To-morrow evening'll
see us at Crookford, and the day after they're to be took to the Signor.
Their looks'll please him--I'm not afeard for that; but I've gave him to
understand that they'