Mrs. Ellis looked at her flushed face, and sent another flood of color into it, for she said, "Mrs. Winslow, I don't know how much good I may be able to do, but I am on your side." Her eyes followed the little black figure when it crossed the lawn. She wondered whether her advice was good, for she had counseled that Winslow come over in the evening. "Maggie," said a voice. Lorania was in the doorway. "Maggie," she said, "I ought to tell you that I heard every word." "Then _I_ can tell _you_," cried Mrs. Ellis, "that he is fifty times more of a man than the marquis, and loves you fifty thousand times better!" Lorania made no answer, not even by a look. What she felt Mrs. Ellis could not guess. Nor was she any wiser when Winslow appeared at her gate, just as the sun was setting. "I didn't think I would better intrude on Miss Hopkins," said he, "but perhaps you could tell me how she is this evening. My mother told me how kind you were, and perhaps you--you would advise me if I might venture to send Miss Hopkins some flowers." Out of the kindness of her heart Mrs. Ellis averted her eyes from his face; thus she was able to perceive Lorania saunter out of the Hopkins gate. So changed was she by the bicycle practice that, wrapped in her niece's shawl, she made Margaret think of the girl. An inspiration flashed to her; she knew the cashier's dependence on his eye-glasses, and he was not wearing them. "If you want to know how Miss Hopkins is, why not speak to her niece now?" she said. He started. He saw Miss Sibyl, as he supposed, and he went swiftly down the street. "Miss Sibyl," he began, "may I ask how is your aunt?"--and then she turned. She blushed, then she laughed aloud. "Has the bicycle done so much for me?" said she. "The bicycle didn't need to do _anything_ for you!" he cried, warmly. Mrs. Ellis, a little distance in the rear, heard, turned, and walked thoughtfully away. "They're off," said she--she had acquired a sporting tinge of thought from Shuey Cardigan. "If with that start he can't make the running, it's a wonder." "I have invited Mr. Winslow and his mother to dinner," said Miss Hopkins, in the morning. "Will you come too, Maggie?" "I'll back him against the marquis," thought Margaret, gleefully. A week later Lorania said: "I really think I must be getting thinner. Fancy Mr. Winslow, who is so clear-sighted, mistaking me for Sibyl! He says--I told him how I had suffered from my figure--he says it can't be what he has suffered from his. Do you think him so very short, Maggie? Of course he isn't tall, but he has an elegant figure, I think, and I never saw anywhere such a rider!" Mrs. Ellis answered, heartily: "He isn't very small, and he is a beautiful figure on the wheel!" And added to herself, "I know what was in that letter she sent yesterday to the marquis! But to think of its all being due to the bicycle!" THE SPELLBINDER