me: and why an old, invalid
lady, whose sons were scattered over the face of the earth, and who had
never had a daughter of her own: who had been clever enough to discover
a distant relationship to Tabitha, and had promptly matured a plan by
which Tabitha was to remain always with her; to take the vacant chair
opposite and pour out tea, and be coddled and kissed and looked
after--why she might not have Tabitha herself for her whole and sole
property, I could not understand. But this Aunt was always turning up:
not visibly, I mean, but in conversation. I could never say which way I
liked Tabitha's veil to be fastened but I was told Aunt Rennie's opinion
on the matter--(Tabitha always absurdly shortened her Aunt's surname,
which was Rensworth). I never could mention a book I liked but Aunt
Rennie had either read it or not read it. It did not matter which to me,
the least. But the climax came when Aunt Rennie sent Tabitha a bicycle.
Now I know that young women bicycle nowadays; but that is no reason why
Tabitha should. I always turn away my eyes when I see a young girl pass
the window on one of those ugly, muddy, dangerous machines, with her
knees working like pumps, her skirt I don't know where, and an
expression of self-satisfied determination on her face. I don't think I
am old-fashioned, but I am sure my own dear little girl, if she had ever
come to me, would not have bicycled; and though I had no wish to put any
unfair restraint on Tabitha, still I did not want her to have a bicycle.
And that this Aunt Rennie, as Tabitha would call her, without a word of
warning, should send her one of those hideous things, as if it was _her_
business to arrange for Tabitha's exercise--I do think it was rather
uncalled for.

When Tabitha came into the room to tell me about it, with that bright,
affectionate smile she has, and her dear, plain, pale face--only that
nobody would think her plain who knew her, for everybody loves her--she
saw quickly enough that I did not like it: and then she was so sweet,
looking so disappointed, and yet ready to give up the horrid thing if I
wished, that I hardly knew what to do. Tabitha works on one in a way
that I believe nobody else can. She has such a generous, warm heart, and
is so responsive, and so quick to understand, and then she is so easily
pleased, and so free from self-consciousness, you seem to know her all
at once, and you feel as if it would be wicked to hurt her. So I don't
know how it