but, to her surprise, she found that she was making little progress on the path. In spite of her effort to go rapidly, she found herself proceeding slowly. She felt her tire flattening, she heard the wooden rim rubbing on the ground,—and then she jumped off.
The glance which she gave that treacherous hind wheel was not necessary to assure her that the air had escaped from the valve.
“It’s a new tire; it ought n’t to act this way,” she thought as she bent over it. “Thomas pumped it up for me just before I started.” Then, with a smile, “But I screwed the cap on, and that’s where the trouble is. If I had my pump with me, I could fix it in a minute. Well, it won’t hurt me to walk home,” and she stood the wheel against a fence while she paused to consider the situation. At this moment a girl near her own age crossed from the opposite side, walking from the direction of the village,
“I can get a foot-pump,” she said politely; “we have one in the house, and I see that your tire is flat.”
Now just at this moment Brenda’s eye happened to light on the garden before which she stood, and she saw two or three lines hung with spotlessly clean clothes. Among the garments was a white skirt and waist, and Brenda noticed that they were embroidered, and belonged evidently to some young girl. This reminded her of her mother’s need of a laundress, and immediately, without replying to the suggestion about the bicycle pump, she turned to the young girl.
