was exactly, but I began to give in about the bicycle;
though I could not help mentioning that it was rather unnecessary for
Aunt Rennie to have taken the trouble: for Tabitha might have told me if
she wanted a bicycle so much. And Tabitha said that Aunt Rennie thought
bicycling was good for her, and, when she lived with her, a year ago,
her Aunt used to take her on her tours round the villages, distributing,
what she called "political literature." This did make me shudder, I
confess. Fancy Tabitha turning into one of those canvassing women, with
their uncivilised energy, their irritating superiority, and their entire
want of decent respect for you and your own opinions! I knew that Aunt
Rennie belonged to a Woman Suffrage Committee, but I did think she had
left the child uncontaminated. It made me more thankful than ever that I
had rescued her from the hands of such a person. However, as you see, I
could not refuse to let Tabitha ride that bicycle; but I always knew
that harm would come of it.

And it came just in the way of which my inner consciousness had warned
me. Now, of course, I never really expected to have Tabitha with me all
her life: but I did want just for a little while to make-believe, as it
were, that I had a daughter, and to feel as if she were happy and
content with me. So it was rather hard that such a thing should happen,
only the second time that she went out on that hideous machine. I can
see her telling me about it now, kneeling down in her affectionate way
by my sofa, all flushed and dishevelled after her ride, and with quite a
new expression on her face. It seemed that she had punctured her
bicycle (whatever that means) and could not get on: and then an "awfully
nice man" (she will use the modern slang; in my days we should merely
have said "a gentleman") came up with his tools and things, and put it
right for her: and ended by claiming acquaintance and proposing to call,
"Because, Mammy dear," said Tabitha, "isn't it funny, but he knows Aunt
Rennie!"

Now, kind reader, I must confess that this was a little too much for me.
To have Aunt Rennie (in spirit) perpetually between me and Tabitha was
bad enough: to have her demoralising Tabitha by sending her bicycles was
still worse: but to have her introducing, (I had nearly said intruding)
young men into the privacy of my home, and into dangerous proximity with
Tabitha was, for a moment, more than I could stand.

"Well, my child," said I, "No dou