The astonishment which this announcement caused in the school may be
better imagined than described. Even Mrs Burton was struck dumb for a
minute. Then she said quietly:
"Harriet, you are the favoured one. Will you please take Ralph to Miss
Ford, and get her to set him his lessons, and then will you take him
into the third form room, and give him a seat by yourself and attend to
his work in the intervals when you can spare some moments from your own?
I will arrange later on that you have plenty of time to do this. Now,
my dear, attend to your duties. You have been elected in a fair field,
and I don't think any favour has been shown, and I congratulate you, and
hope you will be the proud possessor of the prize pony on the day when
you leave school."
The rest of the girls in the form congratulated Harriet also, and she
walked out of Mrs Burton's parlour with her head in the air, holding
Ralph by the hand. Never had such a moment of intoxicating triumph been
given her before. She was trembling from head to foot.
"Now we'll have fun, won't we?" whispered Ralph. "Yes, of course," said
Harriet back. "But come along at once, Ralph. We must get your
lessons. You will be a very good little boy, won't you, and not too
troublesome?" She longed to add: "I can't stand troublesome children,"
but refrained for the time being.
Miss Ford gave Ralph some easy lessons, telling Harriet where his weak
points lay, and how often he ought to repeat them over to her.
"You must be very particular indeed with regard to his sums," she said.
"These sums in addition and this little one in subtraction must be done
perfectly. I think that is all for to-day."
Harriet, still holding Ralph's hand, but holding it rather loosely,
marched now in the direction of the third form class-room. As they were
going there, Ralph spoke:
"I thought--I thought--that--if you were my school-mother, there would
_not_ be sums and things."
"Oh, nonsense!" replied Harriet, rather tartly. "There must be sums and
_things_, as you call them. How are you to be wise if you don't learn?"
she continued. Then, seeing that the colour swept over his face, she
added hastily, "I won't be hard on you, no fear, and when lessons are
over, we'll have great fun."
"Yes, great fun," repeated Ralph. "The gipsies, perhaps?" he added,
pleadingly.
But Harriet, who had not the least idea in her heart of hearts of
bothering herself with regard to gipsies, was silent. They entered the
school-room, where all eyes followed them to their seats. Ralph's
choice was considered too wonderful for words, and more than one girl
felt that the thing had been managed by foul play. What had occurred
they could not tell, but they were positively certain that Ralph of his
own accord would never have chosen Harriet.
Meanwhile, lessons went on, and Ralph struggled over tasks which Robina
or any other girl in the form would have rendered easy and pleasant for
him, but which Harriet did not trouble herself to think about.
"Don't bother!" she whispered once quite crossly, when he pulled her
sleeve.
Towards the end of the morning it was with great difficulty that the
little boy could keep back his tears. Of course, he had made a splendid
choice, and Harriet was delightful; but, still--but, still--how he _did_
wish he knew how to take nine from seven! Nine would not go from seven
because seven wasn't as much as nine. Oh, how was it done? Then there
was six from five. He came to the conclusion at last that sums were not
meant for little boys; it was beyond the power of the human brain to
manage sums; not even his own father could take six from five. He began
in his restlessness to tear up paper, making five little pieces, and
then six little pieces, and wondering how he could ever take the greater
out of the less.
"Harriet," he whispered at last, tugging at her arm, "it can't be done;
see for yourself."
"Don't bother," whispered Harriet again. But then she saw Robina's eyes
fixed on her face, and, suddenly recovering herself, bent down over
Ralph.
"What _is_ the matter, you little troublesome thing?" she said.
"I can't take six from five," answered the boy.
"Oh, you goose!" said Harriet; "borrow ten. Now, then, peg away."
What Harriet meant was Greek to Ralph. "Borrow ten?" he murmured to
himself, "borrow ten?"
It was a very hot day, and Ralph, try as he would, could not borrow ten.
There was no one to borrow it from. The windows were open at the
opposite side of the great room, and a bee came in and sailed lazily
round. The bee, in his velvety brown coat, was watched by a pair of
eyes as soft, as brown as his own velvet coat. The bee never borrowed
ten, that was certain; no more could he. Oh, he was sleepy, and lessons
were horrid, and sums were the worst of all. And why, why, why did not
his school-mother really help him?
He was just dropping off to sleep when a brisk voice said in his ear:
"What is the matter, Ralph?" He looked round, and there was Robina.
"I am sleepy," said Ralph. "It's because I can't borrow ten. Will you
lend it to me?"
Robina bent down over the slate, where poor little Ralph was making a
muddle of his sums.
"This is the way you do it," she said.
She explained so simply; the child understood. His eyes brightened.
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" he answered. "Why, it's quite nice now,
quite nice."
"Well, you won't forget another time," said Robina. She had to go back
to her own seat. She took care in doing so not to glance at Harriet.
At last school time was over, and the young people went into the
gardens. Ralph now felt happy once more. His idea was that Harriet--
dear, kind, fascinating Harriet, who had made him so intensely happy on
the day when she had been his trial school-mother--would now take him
all away by himself. She would sit somewhere under a tree, and get him
to sit by her side, and tell him her plans. These plans must surely
include a picnic tea and a visit to the gipsies. Ralph felt now that
every desire in his life was centred round the gipsies.
"Come, Harriet," he said, tugging at her sleeve, "come away, please."
"What's the matter?" asked Harriet.
"Why--we want to be all by our lones," said Ralph. "We have such lots
to talk about!"
Harriet looked down at him. She looked down at a little boy, with
flushed cheeks and lovely eyes and a tremulous, rosy mouth, and a little
face all full of love and soul and feeling. But it was not given to
Harriet, even for a minute, to see this little boy as he really was.
She only saw _through_ him a pony--a flesh and blood pony, with its
side-saddle; and she saw a girl with a perfectly-fitting habit who owned
the pony, and this girl was herself.
"Well," she said a little crossly, for she had a great deal to do that
afternoon, and meant to have a right good time at a great picnic where
all the girls were going, and where, of course, she would be, in honour
of her triumph that morning, the principal personage. "Well," she
repeated, "what is it?"
"I have such a lot to say," whispered Ralph.
"Come along here, then, Ralph, and say it. What do you want?"
"Why, Harriet, I thought--I thought--"
"Now, I tell you what," said Harriet. "You and I must understand each
other. You're a very good little boy, and I like you enormously, and
I'll be ever so kind to you. You don't know what luck you're in to have
chosen me for your school-mother. I don't know what would have come to
you if you had chosen any of the others. But you mustn't be selfish,
you know."
"No," said Ralph, winking back a tear, "'course not."
"And there's another thing. You must never again allow that horrid
girl, Robina, to help you with your sums. Now, do you hear? You did
look silly over that sum in subtraction; and, of course, Robina, who
hates me, was watching her opportunity."
"I don't know what opportunity is," said Ralph.
"Oh, well--I can't tell you--you're a baby. Anyhow, don't do it again,
do you hear?"
"Very well, Harriet," said Ralph.
It was just at that moment, and before a single word could be said with
regard to the afternoon of that half-holiday, and the gipsies and all
the great, great fun which Ralph so looked forward to, that Miss Ford
came up to Harriet, and drew her a little aside.
"Mrs Burton wishes me to say, Harriet, that she will not expect you to
join the picnic to-day on account of Ralph Durrant."
"And why not, pray?" asked Harriet, turning very red.
"Because they are going too far away, and he would not be back in time
for bed, so you are to stay at home to look after him."
"Well, I like that," said Harriet. "I won't do anything of the kind."
"Oh, you needn't stay, really, Harriet," interrupted Ralph, who gave up
all thought of the gipsies on the spot. "Do please go, Harriet. I
don't mind being left."
Harriet looked eagerly at him.
"Don't you?" she said. "Oh, I am sure you don't; you are a very good
little boy."
"But, I am afraid," said Miss Ford, "that is not the question. Ralph's
school-mother accepts certain duties, which she must perform, and you
can't go to the picnic, Harriet, for Mrs Burton forbids it. She says
you are to stay at home and look after Ralph, and make him as happy as
possible."
Harriet, who never denied herself, was suddenly forced to do so, and in
the most disagreeable, unexpected way. She almost hated Ralph at that
moment. His brown eyes did not in the least appeal to her, and when he
snuggled to her side, and tried to take her hand, she pushed him almost
roughly away.
"I hate being pawed!" said Harriet. "You must understand that, Ralph,
if you are to be with me always. Very well, Miss Ford," she continued,
turning to the teacher. "I must do what is right, of course."
"Of course, you must," said Miss Ford, and she marched away, saying to
herself that she pitied Ralph, and wondering--as, indeed, everyone else
was wondering--why Harriet had been chosen as his school-mother.
Book 1--CHAPTER NINE.