“It may be,” said Julian. “But it’s not quite enough for us, I’m afraid. We shall leave tomorrow.”

The boys went back to the caravans. Jo sat on the grass with George and Anne, eagerly telling them of her life with a very nice family. “But they won’t let me wear shorts or be a boy,” she ended sadly. “That’s why I wear a skirt now. Could you lend me some shorts, George?”

“No, I couldn’t,” said George, firmly. Jo was quite enough like her as it was, without wearing shorts! “Well, you seem to have turned over a new leaf, Jo. Can you read and write yet?”

“Almost,” said Jo, and turned her eyes away. She found lessons very difficult, for she had never been to school when she lived with her gypsy father. She looked back again with bright eyes. “Can I stay with you?” she said. “My foster-mother would let me, I know — if it was you I was with.”

“Didn’t you tell her you were coming here?” said Dick. “That was unkind, Jo.”

“I never thought,” said Jo. “You send her a card for me, Dick.”

“Send one yourself,” said George at once. “You said you could write.”

Jo took no notice of that remark. “Can I stay with you?” she said. “I won’t sleep in the caravans, I’ll doss down underneath. I always did that when the weather was fine, and I lived with my Dad in his caravan. It would be a change for me now not to live in a house. I like lots of things in houses, though I never thought I would — but I shall always like sleeping rough best.”

“Well — you could stay here with us, if we were going to stay,” said Julian. “But I don’t much feel inclined to, now we’ve had such an unfriendly welcome from everyone.”

“I’ll tell everyone to be kind to you,” said Jo at once, and got up as if she meant to go then and there to force everyone into kindness!

Dick pushed her down. “No. We’ll stay here one more day and night, and make up our minds tomorrow. What do you say, Julian?”

“Right,” said Julian. He looked at his watch. “Let’s go and celebrate Jo’s coming with a few ice-creams. And I expect you two girls have got some shopping to do, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” said Anne, and fetched the shopping bags. They set off down the hill, the five of them and Timmy. As they passed the snake-man he called out cheerily to them: “Good morning! Nice day, isn’t it?”

After the surliness and sulkiness the children had got from the fair-folk up till then, this came as a surprise. Anne smiled, but the boys and George merely nodded and passed by. They were not so forgiving as Anne!

They passed the rubber-man, bringing back water. Behind him came the rope-man. Both of them nodded to the children, and the sad-looking rubber-man actually gave a brief grin.