; for a mysterious
illimitable common, where there were sand pits to hide in, and one was
out of everybody's reach, had always made part of Maggie's picture of
gypsy life. She went on, however, and thought with some comfort that
gypsies most likely knew nothing about idiots, so there was no danger of
their falling into the mistake of setting her down at the first glance
as an idiot.

It was plain she had attracted attention; for the tall figure, who
proved to be a young woman with a baby on her arm, walked slowly to meet
her. Maggie looked up in the new face rather tremblingly as it
approached, and was reassured by the thought that her aunt Pullet and
the rest were right when they called her a gypsy; for this face, with
the bright dark eyes and the long hair, was really something like what
she used to see in the glass before she cut her hair off.

"My little lady, where are you going to?" the gypsy said, in a tone of
coaxing deference.

It was delightful, and just what Maggie expected; the gypsies saw at
once that she was a little lady, and were prepared to treat her
accordingly.

"Not any farther," said Maggie, feeling as if she were saying what she
had rehearsed in a dream. "I'm come to stay with _you_, please."

"That's pretty; come, then. Why, what a nice little lady you are, to be
sure!" said the gypsy, taking her by the hand. Maggie thought her very
agreeable, but wished she had not been so dirty.

There was quite a group round the fire when they reached it. An old
gypsy woman was seated on the ground nursing her knees, and occasionally
poking a skewer into the round kettle that sent forth an odorous steam;
two small shock-headed children were lying prone and resting on their
elbows something like small sphinxes; and a placid donkey was bending
his head over a tall girl, who, lying on her back, was scratching his
nose and indulging him with a bite of excellent stolen hay. The slanting
sunlight fell kindly upon them, and the scene was really very pretty and
comfortable, Maggie thought, only she hoped they would soon set out the
teacups. Everything would be quite charming when she had taught the
gypsies to use a washing basin, and to feel an interest in books. It was
a little confusing, though, that the young woman began to speak to the
old one in a language which Maggie did not understand, while the tall
girl, who was feeding the donkey, sat up and stared at her without
offering any salutation. At last the o