the first week of the summer holidays had passed when, one morning, as nellie and tom burford were standing looking into the window of their favourite sweetshop in the town, a handsome motor-car, painted dark green, with a chauffeur in dark green livery, drew up before the adjoining shop (a draper's), and an elderly lady, with a plain, kind face, got out of it.
"i shall not be long, peter," the children heard her say.
"miss perry!" whispered nellie, as the lady went into the draper's shop.
tom nodded. he was gazing at peter perry, who, with bounce by his side, occupied the seat behind the chauffeur's in the car.
"i wonder who the boy can be?" nellie continued, in the same tone. "i never saw him before, did you?"
"once," tom answered. "he's miss perry's nephew. have you decided what you will buy, nellie?" he inquired.
"yes," said the little girl; "caramels, i think. i'd have chocolates, only they don't last so long. you like caramels, don't you?"
"oh, yes! i'll wait outside while you get them."
accordingly nellie, who had twopence to spend, went into the shop, followed by tim. as soon as the pair had disappeared, tom, with a would-be-indifferent air, strolled a few steps forward and passed the motor-car, then turned and repassed it. the chauffeur had got out, and was standing on the pavement, but peter perry had not moved, and was sitting with his eyes fixed straight before him.
"i wonder if he saw me?" tom said to himself. "i don't think he did. of course, i shouldn't dream of speaking to him. i should like him to know that."
he strolled forward again and paused in a line with the car, giving a slight cough to attract peter's attention, intending, as soon as the boy looked at him, to give him a withering glance and move on— in short, to cut him.
but the unexpected happened. at the sound of the cough peter started slightly, and immediately turned his dark eyes upon tom; there was not the very faintest sign of recognition in them, however, and he did not speak. at that instant miss perry came out of the draper's, and tom beat a hasty retreat to the sweetshop doorway. instead of having cut peter perry, he had been cut by him. tom's cheeks were aflame with anger when his little sister joined him.
"oh, tom," she cried, looking with an expression of mingled wistfulness and admiration at the car, which was now on the point of starting, "how nice it must be to be rich like miss perry! i wish she was our aunt, don't you? what a good time that boy must have, mustn't he? oh, what a nice dog!"
"come along, come along!" said tom gruffly. "don't stare so, nellie! the dog's a savage brute!"
"how do you know, tom?"
"because he fought tim the other day—would have half killed him, i believe, if a man hadn't come along and interfered. his name is bounce."
"how did you find out that?"
"his master—he belongs to miss perry's nephew—told me so."
"oh, then you've spoken to miss perry's nephew? tell me about him!"
"there's nothing to tell, except that he's called peter perry."
"is he nice? do you like him?"
"like him? no!"
nellie opened her eyes wide in surprise, for her brother's voice sounded quite fierce. they were walking homewards now, and a few minutes later they turned into the road, on one side of which was ladysmith terrace. as they did so they saw a caravan, painted yellow and red, and laden with brushes and baskets and tin-ware, going on ahead of them, drawn by a big grey horse, whilst a young gipsy woman was calling at each door of the terrace trying to make sales. "isn't it a dear little home?" exclaimed nellie, her gaze fixed with admiration on the gaudy caravan; "doesn't it look pretty and snug? i wish i could see what it is like inside."
they quickened their steps to overtake it, which they did easily, for it was going very slowly. a swarthy, black-eyed man was seated on the right shaft, driving; he was whistling a merry tune, and appeared the picture of contentment.
"oh, look at the pretty little lace curtains in the windows!" cried nellie. "aren't they clean? and tied with pink ribbons, too!"
as she spoke the caravan came to a stop close to the pavement. the driver ceased whistling, jumped off the shaft, and proceeded to slip a nosebag over the horse's head. that done, he went to the back of the caravan and opened the door, whereupon a little girl, almost a baby, came out on the steps and flung herself into his arms. he laughed and kissed her, then set her on the ground; she immediately toddled around the caravan, and going up to the old grey horse, clasped one of his forelegs in her chubby arms. the animal ceased eating for a minute, turned his head and looked at her, then, by no means disturbed, went on with his meal. much interested, nellie and tom stood by, watching.
"if i were you i should be afraid the horse would trample on her," tom remarked, addressing the gipsy man; "i suppose she's your child, isn't she?"
"yes," was the answer, "my only one. old bob trample on her? not he! he's as quiet as a lamb. zingra can do what she likes with him."
"zingra! what a pretty name!" whispered nellie to her brother. "i wonder if she likes sweeties," she said aloud, "because if she does she shall have some of mine." she opened her packet of caramels as she spoke, and the gipsy child turned from the horse to watch her. "hold out your hand, please, zingra!"
zingra obeyed, her rosy lips parting in a smile which revealed two rows of pearly teeth, and nellie placed three caramels in her tiny brown palm. at that minute the gipsy woman came up, and seeing what nellie had done, exclaimed: "there, now, zingra, isn't that kind of the pretty little lady? what do you say?"
"t'ank-oo," lisped zingra, who was already skinning the thin paper from one of her caramels.
meanwhile tom had read the name painted on the side of the caravan, and learnt that the gipsy man was called moses lee, and that he was a licensed hawker. he asked him where he was going, and was told that it was to hatwell green, a piece of waste ground by the roadside, rather more than a mile from chilaton. it was the gipsies' intention to encamp there for a few weeks whilst they traded in the town and district.
mrs. lee, having been to the doors of all the houses in ladysmith terrace, now seated herself with her little daughter on one of the steps at the back of the caravan, and her husband, having relieved bob of his nosebag, perched himself on the shaft once more, and drove on, slowly as before. whilst nellie and tom stood looking after the caravan, the former exchanging waves of the hand with zingra, a motor-horn sounded in the road behind them, and looking round they recognised miss perry's car. as it passed them tom shot one swift glance at its occupants, and it seemed to him that peter deliberately turned his face away as he did so.
"i hate that boy!" he exclaimed passionately; "i shall hate him as long as i live!"
"why?" questioned nellie. "you may as well tell me," she added coaxingly; "do, tom!"
"well, perhaps i will by and by, but it must be a secret, mind."
"very well."
later in the day, nellie, whose curiosity had now been thoroughly aroused, succeeded in prevailing upon tom to give her his confidence. when she had learnt his cause for grievance against peter perry she was quite as indignant as he was himself.
"oh, tom, it was dreadful for you!" she declared, "and do you mean to say that he didn't apologise afterwards?—when you had flung his shilling back, i mean?"
"no. he wanted me to stop, but i wouldn't. i walked straight away."
"i think you ought to have waited," nellie said after a minute's reflection.
"he could have apologised to me in the town to-day if he had liked," tom reminded her.
"yes, of course. and he pretended he didn't see you?"
"no, not exactly. he looked straight at me, and took no notice of me whatever. it was pretty cool behaviour, wasn't it?"
"it was horrid of him! worse than his offering you money! he may have meant that kindly—you had told him we were poor—"
"do you think i look like a beggar?" tom broke in hotly.
"oh, no, no!"
nellie, with tim by her side, was curled up on the sitting-room sofa, a delicate flush on her thin cheeks, her blue eyes very bright, whilst tom moved restlessly about the room, his hands in his trousers' pockets. by and by the boy came to the sofa and stood looking down at his sister.
"what a colour you have, nellie!" he said. "i don't think there's much amiss with you now!"
"oh, no," she agreed, "i'm quite well, but i wish i was not so tired— i'm always tired! oh, tom, how i wish we could have gone away to the sea, don't you?"
"yes, but i didn't know you felt like that! i thought you didn't mind our having to stay at home."
"i do really, but i don't want mother and father to know it. i—i suppose it's my fault we're not going. oh, you know what i mean! i heard mother and father talking, and father said my illness had cost nearly fifty pounds; he said it wouldn't have mattered if he'd had a rise at the bank, but he hasn't, you know."
"yes, i know. it's a great shame. he expected to be made cashier, but another man, whose father has shares in the bank, has been given the post."
"oh, how very unfair! did father tell you?"
"no. he told dr. brewer. i don't think they thought i was listening. dr. brewer thought it very unfair, too. he said: 'never mind, old man, your turn will come.' but father said he was afraid it would be a good while coming, because he had no friends at court."
"no friends at court?" echoed nellie wonderingly. "what did he mean by that?"
"i couldn't think; so i asked mother. she said he meant he wasn't well known by the heads of the bank: directors, i think she called them. if father knew a director, he might get a better post. see?"
nellie nodded, looking very thoughtful. "i suppose there's no way of our getting to know a director?" she asked, an eager light in her blue eyes.
"i should say not," tom answered, with a short, amused laugh.
the little girl concluded that she had said something her brother considered silly, so put no more questions. on the strength of his two years' seniority, he sometimes treated her with an air of superiority, which she secretly disliked.
"i wish the holidays were over," tom said presently, in a grumbling tone. "there's nothing for me to do, and no one for me to play with except you. i say, nellie," he continued, his voice brightening, "wouldn't you like to go with me to hatwell green to-morrow and see the gipsies' encampment?"
"yes, indeed i should," nellie answered. then her face clouded, and she added: "but i'm afraid i couldn't walk there and back."
"why, it's only a mile distant!"
sudden tears filled the little girl's eyes, and her lips quivered.
"if you only knew how tired i get, tom," she faltered. "it isn't that i don't want to go." her voice broke with a sob.
tom felt as though a cold hand had gripped his heart. it was fear— fear that he might lose his little sister. he knew how ill she was. he turned away from her, and moved to the open window, where he stood quite still and silent for some minutes.
"here's miss perry's car again!" he exclaimed by and by. "and, yes, peter perry's in it. come and look!"
nellie obeyed. as she reached her brother's side, tim, who had followed her, jumped on a chair and stood with his forefeet on the window-ledge, also looking out. after the motor, which was being driven slowly, had passed by, tom cried: "there! what do you think of that? his face was turned this way, and he must have recognised me, yet you see he took no notice. he must have recognised tim, too. oh, i know the sort of boy he is: nasty, stuck-up snob!"
