But everything was ship-shape at last, and she spent all the time she could spare in the dear old saloon so fraught with many happy recollections. But one night, not long before the caravan was going to start, while sleeping in her own little cot in the 'Silver Queen,' Lotty dreamt a dream, and woke early in the morning thinking of it. She thought that she was travelling all by herself, not in an ordinary third-class carriage as she had intended, but in his--Antony's--caravan. Lotty was a brave girl, and the romance of that dream appealed to her so much that she determined it should come true. She would only be twenty-four hours on the road, and she could let herself out when it reached London, and, locking the door again, find her way to Highgate Heath. Oh! the plan was delightful above all things, if it could only be managed; and so she confided her plans to Chops, and between their two wise heads it was determined that carried out they could and should be. Crona was also taken into their confidence, and so was the kindly porter at the railway station far away over the moor. Chops had been sent across to purchase the little lass's ticket, and told the honest fellow. He was, like everybody else, very fond indeed of Lotty, and delighted now that she had taken him into her confidence. 'It'll be all right, won't it, George?' said Chops. 'Ay, that it will. Lo', I wouldn't mention the matter even to the wife o' my boozum.' Chops and Lotty worked together an evening or two before the 'Gipsy Queen' started as secretly as if they had been a couple of smugglers or pirates. There was Lotty's big box to be sent away; but that would go after her, and he, Chops, would see to it. During her journey she would only have her best clothes on, and one bag that she could carry. But then there were provisions and stores to be thought of--milk and water and fruit, and a big box of chocolates that Chops had bought her. Not even were candles and matches nor Lotty's flashlight forgotten. As to Wallace--who was watching the pair of them, and no doubt wondering a good deal what was up--he was to be left in the charge of Chops until happier days came round, when she should meet them both again. Well, the caravan was to start at midnight from the station, but she was taken away to that place in the afternoon. The very last thing that Lotty did was to gather a lapful of the wild-flowers he--Antony--loved so well, and bedeck the saloon and bedroom therewith. At long last Lotty had one more look round the camp to say good-bye to Bruin. She dared not excite suspicion by saying good-bye to any one else; but Mary noticed the poor girl had been crying, and wondered much what was the reason of her sadness. She only said, 'Good-night, Mary. Crona wants me to stop a while with her, and I want to see her again.' 'See you to-morrow, anyhow,' said Mary.