“But I can’t ride,” said Alvina.
“You’d learn in a couple of lessons. There’s nothing in riding a bicycle.”
“I don’t believe I ever should,” laughed Alvina.
“You don’t mean to say you’re nervous?” said Arthur rudely and sneeringly.
“I am,” she persisted.
“You needn’t be nervous with me,” smiled Albert broadly, with his odd, genuine gallantry. “I’ll hold you on.”
“But I haven’t got a bicycle,” said Alvina, feeling she was slowly colouring to a deep, uneasy blush.
“You can have mine to learn on,” said Lottie. “Albert will look after it.”
“There’s your chance,” said Arthur rudely. “Take it while you’ve got it.”
Now Alvina did not want to learn to ride a bicycle. The two Miss Carlins, two more old maids, had made themselves ridiculous for ever by becoming twin cycle fiends. And the horrible energetic strain of peddling a bicycle over miles and miles of high-way did not attract Alvina at all. She was completely indifferent to sight-seeing and scouring about. She liked taking a walk, in her lingering indifferent fashion. But rushing about in any way was hateful to her. And then, to be taught to ride a bicycle by Albert Witham! Her very soul stood still.