"It doesn't out in U.S.A. But then we make it on stoves, you see. I can't guarantee it on an open fire. By good rights it ought to have pieces of hickory nut in it, but it won't taste bad without." "I'd call that fire fierce for ordinary toffee," commented Lennie Chapman. "I'm sure I smell something," sniffed Dilys Fenton. "Oh, it's burning!" "Gipsy! Stir it!" "It's boiling over!" "Take it off, quick!" Half a dozen eager hands snatched at the pan, but it was too late; the sugary compound rose like a volcano and overflowed into the fire. A wail of lament came from the disappointed girls. "I knew it would!" protested Lennie. "Oh, it's made an awful smell! Open the window, somebody!" shrieked Gipsy. "If we don't mind, Poppie'll nose it out, and come poking up. Oh! Good gracious!" Gipsy might well exclaim, for there, just behind them, stood Miss Poppleton herself. She had been walking along the passage, and attracted by the smell of burning, she had opened the door quietly to ascertain the cause. There was a moment of awful silence. Eleven sinners felt themselves most horribly caught. "Who brought these things here?" demanded Miss Poppleton, eyeing the tray and its paraphernalia. "I did. I got them from the kitchen," answered Gipsy. "We always made Fudge in the schoolroom in Dorcas City," she added, with a spice of defiance in her voice. "You won't here!" returned Miss Poppleton grimly. "Take those things back to the kitchen at once. You will stay in from hockey to-morrow, and learn a page of French poetry. Each of you others" (glaring at the crestfallen circle) "will copy fifty lines of _Paradise Lost_, and bring them to me before Thursday. If you can't be trusted, I shall have to send one of the Seniors to sit with you in the evenings." With this awful threat she departed, having first seen the exit of Gipsy with the tray. "I knew Gipsy was bound to get into a scrape sooner or later," groaned Dilys. "And we're in too, worse luck!" wailed Daisy Scatcherd. "Fifty lines is no joke!" "It's ironical of her to choose _Paradise Lost_ when the Fudge had just boiled over!" said Hetty. "She doesn't like Gipsy, it's easy enough to see that." "Here's Gipsy back. Well, my child, what do you think of your 'first bite', as you call it? Poppie didn't see your privileges! You'll have the pleasure of learning a whole page of French poetry to improve your mind, instead of playing hockey to-morrow!" "I don't care!" said Gipsy, with an obstinate set to her mouth. "She may give me anything she likes, to learn. When folks are nice to me, I'll keep any number of rules; but when they begin to bully me, I just feel inclined to go and do something outrageous. I'm afraid there's not much love lost between Poppie and me." CHAPTER VII Gipsy takes her Fling