*"HAVE A RIDE, MONICA?"* "Oh, dear me!" yawned Monica, as she stretched herself lazily, and shut up her book. "I feel awfully sleepy." "Have a snooze, then," returned Olive, who was deep in the intricacies of her story; "only just tell me the time first." "Good gracious!" cried her friend, as she twisted her wristlet round, so as to see the hands of the watch it enclosed; "it’s just upon three." "How the time has flown," said Olive, shutting up her book somewhat reluctantly; "we must be going at once. I expect the other two are at the white gate already." "Not they," ejaculated Monica, as she unfastened Hero, and put her book in her empty lunch basket. And when, five minutes later, they reached the appointed meeting-place, and no trace of the others was to be seen, she said: "I told you so." "Well, I suppose we must wait about a bit for them," said Olive, "they can’t be many minutes. Let’s perch on the gate posts and read a bit." She had only a few pages left, and was anxious to see what became of her heroine. But Monica’s story was ended, so she looked about her for some other amusement. In less than a minute the gay chatter of girls sounded on the still, summer air, and Olive, looking up from her book, said: "There they are." But Monica, who had gone to reconnoitre, said: "No, it’s only some of the High School girls--Gipsy Monroe and her little sisters, with a bicycle." "Hullo!" they said, as they came up, "what are you up to?" "Waiting for Elsa Franklyn and Thistle Drury," was Monica’s reply. "Seen anything of them?" "No," replied the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl, rightly nicknamed "Gipsy," instead of the plainer appellation of Emily which she had been given. She was holding a younger girl on the bicycle, who jumped off as she brought it to a stand-still. "Have a ride, Monica?" Now Monica knew that her grandmother had a great abhorrence of girls riding bicycles, and, indeed, she had expressly forbidden her granddaughter to attempt to mount one. But Monica, in this, as in most things, entirely disagreed with her grandmother, and felt with the boundless self-confidence of youth that her own opinion was far the best. So without a qualm of conscience, she readily accepted the offer. "I can’t balance myself a bit," she said, as she mounted the machine, while Gipsy held it steady. "I have tried once or twice, but I always wobble frightfully." And her movements proved she was right. "Oh, I say, how heavy you are!" cried Gipsy, in dismay, as Monica and the bicycle rolled first one way and then the other. "Come and hold her up, Olive." Things went better then, with two to steady the uncertain rider, and they had gone some little distance along the road, when the Monroe children, who were a little behind, called out: "Look out, here’s a motor!" And in another second the car whizzed by them.