"Pollie does not want two, but I guess you can do with one," said Mr. Dicks. "This is yours, Miss Nan."
I think I was never so taken aback in my life. I did not know what to say. It seemed impossible that I could accept so valuable a gift from one who was almost a stranger; yet I could see that both Josiah Dicks and his daughter would be dreadfully hurt if I refused it. I knew too that he did not like the idea of Paulina's riding about the country alone, and that this was his way of securing a companion for her. I tried to say that I would regard it as a loan; but that would not do. I had to accept it. I had heard mother say that it sometimes takes more grace to receive a gift than to bestow one, and I felt the truth of the words now. I fear I expressed my thanks very awkwardly, yet I was truly grateful in spite of my overwhelming sense of obligation.
"You must try it," cried Paulina eagerly. "Let us take it round to the front of the house, and I'll mount you."
In a few minutes I was riding up and down the short drive before the house. Mr. Faulkner caught sight of me from the drawing-room window, and he and aunt came out to see what it meant. Aunt Patty was as much astonished as I was by Josiah Dicks's munificence; but she had more presence of mind and thanked him very warmly for his kindness to me.
"That's all right," he said; "you've no need to thank me. It's just as it should be. I like to see young people enjoy themselves. They'll never be young but once."
Meanwhile Mr. Faulkner had been quietly examining my machine, and he told me, in an aside, that it had all the latest improvements, and was one of the best he had ever seen.
Certainly I found it an easy one to ride, and after a little practice I began to feel as if it were part of myself. It was too late for us to do much that day; but Paulina got out her machine, and we rode as far as the village. As we passed the Vicarage we caught sight of Jack in the garden. He shouted as he saw me spinning by, and I had to halt and show him my delightful gift. He seemed almost as pleased as I was. We arranged forthwith to ride with him on the following afternoon. After dinner, I managed to get away by myself for a time, and wrote a long letter to mother, for I felt that I must tell her about my present.
It would not be easy to say how much enjoyment I derived from Mr. Dicks's gift. As long as the weather continued fair, Paulina and I rode every day. Jack accompanied us as often as he could, and was sorely tempted to curtail the time he devoted to his studies. Then one morning, Mr. Faulkner went to London by an early train, and when he came back in the evening he brought a bicycle with him. After that he too was often our companion. If we rode out a party of four, Jack always elected to ride beside me, while Paulina seemed equally bent on securing Mr. Faulkner as her escort, so that I had little opportunity of talking with him. This vexed me somewhat, for Alan Faulkner had generally interesting things to tell one, whereas Jack's never-ceasing flow of small talk was apt to become a trifle wearisome. We had some delightful rides and visited most of the picturesque villages or fine old churches within twenty miles of "Gay Bowers." But after Miss Cottrell came to stay with us, I was less free to scour the country.
Colonel Hyde and Miss Cottrell arrived about the same time, when spring was merging into summer, and we fondly hoped that cold winds were over. There was no other connection between these two individuals. The Colonel was an old friend of Mr. Upsher's. He was Jack's godfather, and being a widower and childless, the chief attraction "Gay Bowers" had for him was that it was so near Greentree Vicarage.
Miss Cottrell might have been fifty. She informed Aunt Patty that she was thirty-nine, and my aunt charitably believed her, though she certainly looked much older. She was fond of the country, and her coming was simply the result of seeing our advertisement. She furnished aunt with references to persons of good social standing, yet somehow she always struck us as not being exactly a gentlewoman. She said she had been a governess for many years, a fact which perhaps accounted for her worn and faded appearance, but had taught only in the "best families." As she occasionally let fall an "h" or made a slip in grammar, we came to the conclusion that the "best families" known to her had not a high standard of education. She was fond of talking of a certain Lady Mowbray, with whom she had lived in closest intimacy for many years. "Dear Lady Mowbray" was quoted on every possible occasion, till we grew rather weary of her name, and longed to suggest that she should be left to rest in her grave in peace. We knew she was dead, for Miss Cottrell had spoken of the "handsome legacy" which this friend had left her. This sum of money, together with some property she had inherited from an uncle, had rendered it unnecessary for her longer to "take a situation," a consummation for which she seemed devoutly thankful.