A World of Girls by L.T. Meade

Annie ran out of the field, mounted the stile which led into the wood, and stood there until the gypsy man and girl, and the boy with the donkey, had finally disappeared. Then she left her hiding-place, and taking her little gingham bag out of the long grass, secured it once more in the front of her dress. She felt queer and uncomfortable in her new dress, and the gypsy girl's heavy shoes tired her feet; but she was not to be turned from her purpose by any manner of discomforts, and she started bravely on her long trudge over the dusty roads, for her object was to follow the gypsies to their next encampment, about ten miles away. She had managed, with some tact, to obtain a certain amount of information from the delighted gypsy girl. The girl told Annie that she was very glad they were going from here; that this was a very dull place, and that they would not have stayed so long but for Mother Rachel, who, for some reasons of her own, had refused to stir.

Here the girl drew herself up short, and colored under her dark skin. But Annie's tact never failed. She even yawned a little, and seemed scarcely to hear the girl's words.