A Bicycle of Cathay - Page 102/112

The other reason for my leaving was Amy Willoughby. During my little

visit to her house my acquaintance with her had grown with great

rapidity. Now I seemed to know her very well, and the more I knew her

the better I liked her. It may be vanity, but I think she wanted me to

like her, and one reason for believing this was the fact that when she

was with me--and I saw a great deal of her during the afternoon and

evening I spent with the Larramies--she did not talk so much, and when

she did speak she invariably said something I wanted to hear.

Remembering the remarks which had been made about her by her friend

Edith, I could not but admit that she was a very fine girl, combining

a great many attractive qualities, but I rebelled against every

conviction I had in regard to her. I did not want to think about her

admirable qualities. I did not want to believe that in time they would

impress me more forcibly than they did now. I did not want people to

imagine that I would come to be so impressed. If I stayed there I

might almost look upon her in the light of a duty.

The family farewell the next morning was a tumultuous one. Invitations

to ride up again during my vacation, to come and spend Saturdays and

Sundays, were intermingled with earnest injunctions from Genevieve in

regard to a correspondence which she wished to open with me for the

benefit of her mind, and declarations from Percy that he would let me

know all about the bear as soon as it was decided what would be the

best thing to happen to him, and entreaties from little Clara that I

would not go away without kissing her good-bye.

But amid the confusion Miss Edith found a chance to say a final word

to me. "Don't you try," she said, as I was about to mount my bicycle,

"to keep those holly sprigs in your brain until Christmas. They are

awfully stickery, they will not last, and, besides, there will not be

any Christmas."

"And how about New-Year's Day?" I asked.

"That is the way to talk," skid she. "Keep your mind on that and you

will be all right."

As I rode along I could not forget that it would be necessary for me

to pass the inn. I had made inquiries, but there were no byways which

would serve my purpose. There was nothing for me to do but keep on,

and on I kept. I should pass so noiselessly and so swiftly that I did

not believe any one would notice me, unless, indeed, it should be the

boy. I earnestly hoped that I should not see the boy.