Gertrude jumped off her machine and stood gazing up at the directions indicated.
"You see!" she observed, "we have lots of time before that slow donkey gets there. We might make a detour and get into the road again later on. We don't want to sit staring down the Landslip till they arrive. Besides, we've seen it all yesterday, haven't we?"
Cecil acquiesced. It amused him to see Gertrude's cool way of arranging matters, and it was certainly less trouble to be entertained and directed hither and thither than to take the initiative and entertain. At any rate it was a change.
But bicycles, like donkeys, are not always satisfactory means of locomotion. The pair had not gone much further when Gertrude's tyre punctured, and a halt was called while Cecil repaired it.
Cecil was not a good workman; he made a long job of it, and when at last they started again, time was getting on and they had but reached a small colony of houses when Gertrude exclaimed that her tyre was down again.
She glanced round at the little cluster of houses. "There's a cycle shop," she said, "and a tea shop next door. How convenient. We had better have the punctured tyre mended for us and we can have tea while we wait!"
Cecil obediently wheeled her cycle into one shop and followed her into the second.
He found her seated at a little table, examining the watch on her wrist.
"Guess what the time is," she said laughing. "Let us hope they won't wait tea for us at the Landslip, for I am sure we shall never get there! The woman here says there is no way of getting there except by going back to the cross-road!"
Cecil looked rather blank. He had not at all counted on failing to keep the appointment at the cottage, or on running the risk of thereby offending Mrs. Henchman, and where would be his promise to himself of making it up to Audrey at tea-time?