"I've cut my hand," said Gypsy, faintly; "there was a great heap of broken
glass in my drawer!"

"_Broken glass!_"

"Yes, I'm sure I don't know how it came there; I guess I was going to
frame a picture."

Mrs. Breynton bound up her finger, and went down again. She was no more
than fairly seated before there came from up-stairs, not a scream, but one
of the merriest laughs that ever was heard.

"What is to pay, now?" called Tom, from the entry.

"Oh, dear!" gasped Gypsy; "it's too funny for anything! If here isn't the
_carving-knife_ we scolded Patty for losing last winter, and--Oh, Tom,
just look here!--my stick of peanut candy, that I thought I'd eaten up,
all stuck on to my lace under-sleeves!"

It was past Gypsy's bed-time when the upper drawer was fairly in order and
put back in its place. Three others remained to go through the same
process, as well as wardrobe shelves innumerable. Gypsy, with her
characteristic impulsiveness, would have sat up till twelve o'clock to
complete the work, but her mother said "No" very decidedly, and so it must
wait till to-morrow.

Tom came in just as everything was done, and Gypsy had drawn a long breath
and stood up to look, with great satisfaction, all around her pleasant,
orderly room.