"I know it," interrupted Gypsy; "I know it was terribly careless--terribly. Did you ever know anything so exactly like me? The worst of it is, being sorry doesn't help the matter. I wish I could buy you another. Won't you please to take my five dollars, and I'll earn some more picking berries." "I don't want your money, my child," said Mr. Breynton, looking troubled and puzzled. "I'm sorry the nymph is gone; but somehow you do seem to be different from other girls. I didn't know young ladies ever jumped." Gypsy was silent. Her father and mother seemed to think differently about these things. To her view, and she felt sure, to her mother's, the fault lay in the carelessness of not finding out whether the image was in her way. She could not see that she was doing anything wrong in going out alone into an apple-tree, and springing from a low bough, upon the soft grass. Very likely, when she was a grown-up young lady, with long dresses and hair done up behind, she shouldn't care anything about climbing trees. But that was another question. However, she had too much respect for her father to say this. So she hung her head, feeling very humble and sorry, and wondering if Mr. Simms couldn't plaster the nymph together somehow, he was always so ready to do things for her. "Well," said her father, after a moment's thought, in which he had been struggling with a sense of disappointment at the destruction of his statue, that would have made a less kind-hearted man scold. "Well, it can't be helped; and as to the climbing trees, I suppose your mother knows best. I am glad you came and told me, anyway--very glad. You are a truthful child, Gypsy, in spite of your faults." "I couldn't bear to tell lies," said Gypsy, brightening a little. It is possible this was another one of the reasons why people had such a habit of loving Gypsy. What do you think? CHAPTER VII JUST LIKE GYPSY