midnight
Her hat was off , lying in its veil by her side , and a certain general abandon of her figure , -- which was clothed in a short cloth skirt , cut with that unmistakable touch which we call style -- betokened weariness that could no longer wait for rest . Poor child ! she was tired out . She must never be left to sleep on there , for she seemed good to sleep till midnight . I turned to her bicycle , and , examining it with the air of a man who had won silver cups in his day , I speedily discovered what had been the mischief . The tire of the front wheel had been pierced , and a great thorn was protruding from the place . Evidently this had been too much for poor Rosalind , and it was not unlikely that she had cried herself to sleep .