So far she was interested, and all that we said seemed perfectly natural to the occasion, but this could not last, and I felt within me a strong desire to make some better use of this interview.
I had not expected to see her again, certainly not so soon, and here I was alone with her, free to say what I chose; but what should I say?
I had not premeditated anything serious.

In fact, I was not sure that I wished to say anything which should be considered absolutely serious and definite, but if I were ever to do anything definite--and the more I talked with this bright-eyed and merry-hearted young lady the stronger became the longing to say something definite--now was the time to prepare the way for what I might do or say hereafter.
I was beginning to grow nervous, for the right thing to say would not present itself, when Percy strode into the room.

"Good-morning, Mrs.
Chester," said he, and then, turning to me, he declared that he had been waiting in the yard, and began to think I might have forgotten I had come for my wheel.
Of course I rose and she rose, and we followed Percy to the back door of the house.

Outside I saw that the boy of the inn was holding the horse, and that the wheel was already placed in the back part of the wagon.
"I've got everything all right, I think," said Percy.

"I didn't suppose it was necessary to wait for you, but you'd better take a look at it to see if you think it will travel without rubbing or damaging itself." I stepped to the wagon and found that the bicycle was very well placed.