A Bicycle of Cathay - Page 72/112

"Yes," said I, "but I will get out here."

"All right," he replied, "I'll drive around to the sheds."

At the open door of the large room I met Mrs. Chester, evidently on

her way out-of-doors. She wore a wide straw hat, her hands were

gloved, and she carried a basket and a pair of large shears. When she

saw me there was a sudden flush upon her face, but it disappeared

quickly. Whether this meant that she was agreeably surprised to see me

again, or whether it showed that she resented my turning up again so

soon after she thought she was finally rid of me, I did not know. It

does not do to predicate too much upon the flushes of women.

I hastened to inform her why I had come, and now, having recovered

from her momentary surprise, she asked me to walk in and sit down, an

invitation which I willingly accepted, for I did not in the least

object to detaining her from her garden.

Now she wanted to know how I had managed to get on with the bear, and

what the people at the Cheltenham said about it, and when I went on to

tell her the whole story, which I did at considerable length, she was

intensely interested. She shuddered at the runaway, she laughed

heartily at the uprising of the McKenna sister, and she listened

earnestly to everything I had to say about the Larramies.

"You seem to have a wonderful way," she exclaimed, "of falling in

with--" I think she was going to say "girls," but she changed it to

"people."

"Yes," said I. "I should not have imagined that I could make so many

good friends in such a short time."

Then I went on to give her Mr. Larramie's message, and to say more

things about the bear. I was glad to think of any subject which might

prolong the conversation. So far she was interested, and all that we

said seemed perfectly natural to the occasion, but this could not

last, and I felt within me a strong desire to make some better use of

this interview.

I had not expected to see her again, certainly not so soon, and here I

was alone with her, free to say what I chose; but what should I say? I

had not premeditated anything serious. In fact, I was not sure that I

wished to say anything which should be considered absolutely serious

and definite, but if I were ever to do anything definite--and the more

I talked with this bright-eyed and merry-hearted young lady the

stronger became the longing to say something definite--now was the

time to prepare the way for what I might do or say hereafter.

I was beginning to grow nervous, for the right thing to say would not

present itself, when Percy strode into the room. "Good-morning, Mrs.

Chester," said he, and then, turning to me, he declared that he had

been waiting in the yard, and began to think I might have forgotten I

had come for my wheel.