above her head as she bent
down, wrenching and tugging with her main strength at the boards and
stubborn nails, too excited to know that half the force she used would
have served her better.

"There! that's my bicycle!" announced Miss Blake, displaying the
beautiful machine with the pride of a possessor, when the last stay had
been unscrewed, and the slender wheel stood revealed in all the glory
of its spotless nickel-plate and rubber tires.

Nan gazed at it in speechless admiration. It had been the dream of her
life to own such a machine, but she had pleaded for one in vain. Mr.
Turner had explained to her that what money he held in trust for her
was no more than served to pay for her running expenses.

"You know your father is not a rich man," he had said, "and lately he
has met with losses. He wishes you to be brought up under home
influences rather than at a boarding-school among strangers. He
desires you to be well educated, and naturally all this costs. Your
father is willing to make many sacrifices that you may be well provided
for, but he is not able to indulge you in a matter like this of the
bicycle. I wish I did not have to refuse you, but I think with him,
that your most important need should be supplied first, and if after
that little remains for mere indulgence, you must be satisfied. By and
by you will see that his course is best, if you do not see it already."

But Nan had never been able to feel that it was best that she should
not have a bicycle. Now that the new governess had come and had proved
so "horrid," she felt it still less. "Half the money she gets would
buy me a first-rate safety," she had thought often and often and often,
as she groaned over her father's perversity.

But here was one of the wonderful affairs actually in the house, and if
it did not belong to her, what of that? What was it the governess was
just saying?

"I am quite sure you could use this wheel if we should shift the saddle
up a bit, that is, if you care to ride. As soon as the ground is clear
I will teach you if you like."

Nan's face was radiant. "Oh, I know how," she said. "I've practiced
lots on--on--a person's I know. Only it wasn't a--a--girl's wheel.
But I can ride."

Miss Blake was rubbing down the slender spokes with a piece of chamois
skin.

"You are welcome to use mine, then," she said simply.

Nan choked out a meagre "Thank you." It was not a gracious
acknowledgment, but the governes