“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“But it is imposing up on your good nature.”
But Gilbert had turned his head in a backward direction, and nodded in a satisfied way as he saw a light, open buggy rapidly approaching.
“There’s my sister in that carriage,” he said. “She comes in good time. I will put you and your gripsack in with her, and I’ll take to my bicycle again.”
“Your sister may not like such an arrangement.”
“Won’t she though! She’s very fond of beaux, and she will receive you very graciously.”
“You make me feel bashful, Gilbert.”
“You won’t be long. Julia will chat away to you as if she’d known you for fifty years.”
“I was very young fifty years ago,” said Carl, smiling.
“Hi, there, Jule!” called Gilbert, waving his hand.