by L. T. Meade
forever, she even thought gentlyand kindly of Robina. When Robina was made Ralph's school-mother, andwhen she obtained the pony as her prize, Harriet submitted to her fate.Nevertheless, the thought of Robina rankled in her mind, and when thelittle girls met at Sunshine Lodge, it was Robina who was the firstthorn in Harriet's side.
Outwardly, it would have been impossible to find a merrier group thanthose eight girls when they arrived in a waggonette at Sunshine Lodge.Ample preparations had been made for their welcome. Arches of evergreenand flowers were put up over the gates and along the avenue; and overthe front door "Welcome, Welcome" appeared in letters of flowers. Inevery direction smiling faces were to be seen--smiling faces at thelodge gates, smiling faces at the front door; and Mr Durrant, strong,self-reliant, holding Ralph by the hand, was the most delightful sightof all.
"Now, my children, you have come," he said. "Ralph, greet all yourlittle mothers. Ralph, my son, do the honours of the occasion. Thereare servants, my children, to show you to your rooms. We shall meet attea-time. You will be best alone with Ralph for the time being."
"Oh, my naughty, naughty, darling school-mother!" cried Ralph, flinginghimself into Harriet's arms. He did go to her first, he did cling roundher neck, he did press his kisses to her thin cheek. Before anyoneelse, he was hers; her heart swelled with triumph. But the next minute,it sank with a feeling of ugly jealousy; for was not his clasp stilltighter round Robina's neck, and did he not whisper something intoRobina's ear, and did not Robina flush with pleasure? The other mothersalso came in for a share of his rapture: but Harriet, keen to notice andobserve, felt that notwithstanding the fact that he had come to herfirst of all, Robina must be his favourite.
The first couple of hours, however, spent at Sunshine Lodge were toobrilliantly, intoxicatingly happy for even jealousy to find much scope.Harriet was hurried along with her companions from one room to another,from one point of enjoyment to another.
When they had examined the house and expressed themselves satisfied withtheir sweet little bedrooms, and when they had glanced at the tea-table,and observed the numbers of cakes which it contained, and the vast pilesof bread and butter and the dishes full of jam and the plates of fruitand the combs of honey, and all the other imaginable good things that goto make up that meal of all meals--an English nursery tea, they werehurried off to the stables.
Here were donkeys; donkeys enough for each girl to select one as herspecial property; and here was Bo-peep, and Ralph's own lovely littlepony, Bluefeather. Bluefeather was black as ink, and was only calledblue because Ralph liked the colour, and because the pony's mane was sothick and strong and waved so in the wind.
Now at the sight of Bo-peep and Bluefeather standing side by side andeyeing each other with considerable appreciation, Harriet's smoulderingjealousy woke into a fierce flame. She felt a sudden sense almost ofsickness stealing over her. Jane Bush was standing not far off.
"Come, Janie," she said, all of a sudden, speaking harshly and withsomething of her old tone. "I am tired of looking at stupid donkeys; Idon't want to choose my donkey this evening; come and let us take a walkall by ourselves before we have to go in to tea."
"I say," called Ralph, "naughty school-mother, we are going to teaalmost immediately."
"Well, you can call me when you are ready for me," said Harriet, "Ishan't be far away."
She tugged at Jane's arm. Now Jane was not in the least jealous; shewas charmed to possess a donkey. A pony was, of course, preferable, butto have a donkey all her own to call any name she liked for the whole ofthe rest of the holidays was quite enough to fill her heart withrejoicing.
"I shall call mine Thistle," she said. "Don't you think that is a goodname, Harriet?"
"Oh, I am sure I don't care," said Harriet. "Call it Thistle or Nettle,or anything else you fancy; I am not interested in donkeys."
"Well, I am," said Jane, a little stoutly. "Why should we go away,Harriet?"
"Aren't you going to be friends with me any more, Jane?"
"Of course, only I thought--"
"Oh, _your_ thoughts! as if they signified," said Harriet. "Look here,Jane; do let's walk up and down in front of the house. Of _course_we're going to have a jolly time; but I want to have a little chat withyou, with you--my old, my oldest friend--all by ourselves."
"Oh, well," said Jane, mollified at once, "if you are going to make meyour friend, like we used to be before that dreadful day when Ralph ranaway, of course I shall be glad. But I thought you were quite changed,that you were the good-girl-for-evermore sort. You know you didrepent--everyone in the school knew it, and on the whole, I was glad,although you gave me up."
While Jane was speaking, the two girls had left the yard, and hadentered a little bowery path which led round to the left side of thehouse. Here they could be seen from the house, but could not be heard.Harriet looked full at Jane when they found themselves in this boweryretreat.
"Look here," she said, "I must out with it."
"Well?" said Jane, expectantly. Jane looked stouter and rounder andbroader than ever. "Well?" she repeated, fixing her black eyes onHarriet's face.
"I am not a good-for-evermore sort of girl," said Harriet. Then shestood very still, and waited for Jane to reply.
Jane could not tell at that moment whether she was most glad or sorry.Harriet had always rather frightened her, and since the date ofHarriet's repentance she, Jane, had had what might be expressed as avery good and comfortable time. She had got into no scrapes, she hadhad of course no adventures; but then she had worked at her studies, andhad made such admirable progress that she even won a small prize at thebreak-up.
Nevertheless, Jane had her own little jealousies, and although they werenot so marked as Harriet's--for her character was nothing like as strongas the character of her friend--they did rankle in her breast. To beeven the one confidante of the naughty girl of the third form was betterthan to be no one's confidante at all; and from the moment of Harriet'srepentance, Jane had been feeling very safe, but just a little dull, andjust a tiny bit forsaken. Now, therefore, to receive the old confidenceback again, to notice the daring look in Harriet's light blue eyes, andto hear the old ring in her voice, awoke a certain very naughty pleasurein Jane.
"Oh well," she said; "I thought your good fit couldn't last forever.But what is it now?"
"I am just madly jealous of that Robina," whispered Harriet.
"Oh," said Jane; "it's the old thing! But why can't you leave poorRobina alone?"
"I can't: she has got Bo-peep."
"Well; of course she has," said Jane. "You knew quite well she wouldget Bo-peep from the moment that you made such a mess of things withpoor little Ralph, and he was handed over to Robina to mother him. Thatis no news, surely you ought to have got over that by now."
"I ought; but I haven't," said Harriet; "so where's the good of`oughting' me about it?"
"I see you are the same as ever," said Jane in a low tone in whichsatisfaction and perplexity were mingled.
"I am," said Harriet, "and what is more, if they think I am going toride one of those horrid donkeys, they are very much mistaken. You canmount on your Thistle, or your Nettle all by yourself, as far as I amconcerned. If I can't have a pony like Bo-peep or Bluefeather, I shan'tride at all."
"Oh, Harriet; you will make us all so unhappy, and it will look so bad,and dear Mr Durrant won't like it."
"Dear Mr Durrant!" echoed Harriet in a tone of great contempt. "Heought not to expect a girl like me to ride a donkey; it is a sort ofreproach to me, that it is!"
"Oh, Harriet! I never knew anyone quite so kind as Mr Durrant; andthen you will vex little Ralph; think of that; you do love Ralph."
"Yes," said Harriet, thoughtfully. "On the whole, I love him very much.I never cared for a little boy before; he is quite the nicest child Ihave ever come across, but there are some things even about him that Icannot bear. I want him to stop calling me his naughty school-mother.It is like for ever and for ever bringing up my litt
le adventure withhim. I am going to speak to him about that. He shan't go on with it; Imean to put a stop to it."
"Oh, but he does it so innocently," said Jane.
"It vexes me," interrupted Harriet, "and he shan't go on with it. ThenI do want him not to show such a marked preference for Robina when I amby. I wish--I do wish--"
"What?" said Jane.
"That I could yet get him really to love me best. The fact is this,Janie. I don't like Robina one little scrap more than I ever