next letter to Lilo!
She sighed yearningly.
“Oh, you can’t imagine the feeling of freedom it gives you! The speed . . . It’s like you’re flying. And it’s not that dangerous. I simply must find a way to ride one again.”
“Are you mad? Don’t you know what the papers are saying about women who ride bicycles? They’re all talking about how they’re corrupting the morals of the female sex.”
“Lilo told me about that, but I didn’t want to believe it . . .” said Josephine.
“One needn’t put too much store in everything they write in the newspapers,” said Frieda. “The young women in question, if you ask me, were not particularly smart when they decided to ride through the Tiergarten. If they had ventured out into the open countryside, they could have had their fun and no one would have taken any notice.”
Clara frowned, but Josephine nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! Lilo was always careful to ensure that the coast was clear.”
Frieda laughed. “I’m liking that girl more and more. I hope they’re able to visit this year. I’ve invited her and her father so many times, but nothing has ever come of it.”
“Isabelle’s father . . .” said Josephine slowly. “Do you think he’d let me have a look at his bicycle?”
“Josie, you can’t just walk up to his villa and knock on the door, not for something like that,” Clara said, appalled at the thought.
“And why not?” Josephine said, lifting her chin.
“Because . . . because . . .” Clara looked to Frieda, but Frieda said, “It’s worth a try. Why don’t you two just go by and see if Isabelle is home? She might be happy to see you again after all these years.”
“We’ll do it!” said Josephine, then cleared her throat. “And there’s one more thing . . . From now on, could you call me Jo?”
Chapter Seven
Josephine paused as she was about to ring the bell. Wasn’t it a bit rude to show up at Isabelle’s house after all these years? And with such an unusual request?
“Let’s just go,” said Clara and plucked at Josephine’s sleeve.
But Josephine was already ringing the bell, and a moment later came the melodic sound of bells from inside.
The heavy, carved door opened, and an attractive young woman stood before them, wearing a daffodil-yellow dress with matching gloves and hat. Could that possibly be Isabelle?
“Oh, I thought . . .” the young woman began, then hesitated. “Who are you?”
“We . . . uh . . . My name’s Josephine and this is Clara,” said Jo, her voice suddenly husky. “Do you remember us? From before? We played together when we were kids . . .”
Isabelle narrowed her eyes and looked at Josephine. “Of course I do! Weren’t you part of the mob that was always teasing me about my red hair?”
“Actually . . . I don’t remember that,” Jo stammered. “Your hair is gorgeous!” she added, and she meant it. She had never seen such elaborately styled hair before. With her glittering combs and artfully set curls, she was a match for any bride . . . and a thought occurred to Josephine. “You . . . are so beautiful. You’re not getting married, are you?”
Isabelle laughed in confusion. “Nonsense! What makes you think that?” She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her silken dress and then said, “But I do have a date. When the bell rang, I thought you were my gentleman caller.” She didn’t sound particularly happy.
“A date?” asked Clara, who had stayed in the background until then. “I’d love to have one of those, but my mother thinks I’m still too young. And besides, no one’s ever been interested in me.” She frowned. “We didn’t want to disturb you. Come on, Jo.”
“No, please, stay!” said Isabelle quickly. “The gentleman who’s supposed to pick me up is exceptionally wealthy and not bad looking. But honestly, he’s as dull as dishwater. My father thinks the world of him, but I would much rather spend the
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