As Seen By Me | Page 3

on your wheel. You sit so straight and--"
I saw a milkman coming. We three were the only objects in sight, yet I headed for him.
"Get out of my way," I shrieked at him. "I'm a beginner. Turn off!"
He lashed his horse and cut down a side street.
"What a narrow escape," I sighed. "How glad I am I happened to think of that."
I looked up pleasantly at Ted. He was biting his lips and he looked raging.
"You are the most hopeless girl I ever saw!" he burst out. "I wish you didn't own a wheel."
"I don't," I said. "The wheel owns me."
"You haven't the manners of--"
"Stockings," I said, looking straight ahead. "Silk stockings with polka dots embroidered on them, No. 10."
Ted looked sheepish.
"I ride so well," I proceeded. "I sit up so straight and look so nice."
No answer.
"Gloves," I went on, still without looking at him. "White and pearl ones for evening, and russet gloves for the street, No. 8."
"Oh, quit, won't you? I'm sorry I said that. But if you only knew how you mortify me."
"Cheer up, Tedcastle. I am going away, you know. And when I come back you will either have got over caring so much or I will be more of a lady."
"I'm sorry you are going," said my brother. "But as you are going, perhaps you will let me use your rooms while you are gone. Your bed is the best one I ever slept in, and your study would be bully for the boys when they come to see me."
I was too stunned to reply. He went on, utterly oblivious of my consternation:
"And I am going to use your wheel while you are gone, if you don't mind, to take the girls out on. I know some awfully nice girls who can ride, but their wheels are last year's make, and they won't ride them. I'd rather like to be able to offer them a new wheel."
"I am not going to take all my party dresses. Have you any use for them?" I said.
"Why, what's the matter? Won't you let me have your rooms?"
"Merciful heavens, child! I should say not!"
"Why, I haven't asked you for much," said my small, modest brother. "You offered."
"Well, just wait till I offer the rest. But I'll tell you what I will do, Ted. If you will promise not to go into my rooms and rummage once while I am gone, and not to touch my wheel, I'll buy you a tandem, and then you can take the girls on that."
"I'd rather have you bring me some things from Europe," said my shrinking brother.
"All right. I'll do that, but let me off this thing. I am so tired I can't move. You'll have to walk it back and give me five cents to ride home on the car."
I crawled in to breakfast more dead than alive.
"What's the matter, dearie? Did you ride too far?" asked mamma.
"I don't know whether I rode too far or whether it was Ted's asking if he couldn't use my rooms while I was gone, but something has made me tired. What's that? Whom is papa talking to over the telephone?"
Papa came in fuming and fretting.
"Who was it this time?" I questioned, with anticipation. Inquiries over the telephone were sure to be interesting to me just now.
"Somebody who wanted to know what train you were going on, but would not give his name. He was inquiring for a friend, he said, and wouldn't give his friend's name either."
"Didn't you tell him?" I cried, in distress.
"Certainly not. I told him nobody but an idiot would withhold his name."
Papa calls such a variety of men idiots.
"Oh, but it was probably only flowers or candy. Why didn't you tell him? Have you no sentiment?"
"I won't have you receiving anonymous communications," he retorted, with the liberty fathers have a little way of taking with their daughters.
"But flowers," I pleaded. "It is no harm to send flowers without a card. Don't you see?" Oh, how hard it is to explain a delicate point like that to one's father--in broad daylight! "I am supposed to know who sent them!"
"But would you know?" asked my practical ancestor.
"Not--not exactly. But it would be almost sure to be one of them."
Ted shouted. But there was nothing funny in what I said. Boys are so silly.
"Anyway, I am sorry you didn't tell him," I said.
"Well, I'm not," declared papa.
The rest of the day fairly flew. The last night came, and the baby was put to bed. I undressed him, which he regarded as such a joke that he worked himself into a fever of excitement. He loves to scrub like Josie, the cook. I had bought him a little red pail, and I gave it to him that night when he was partly undressed, and he