by L. T. Meade
andeventually, if you wish it, you should go to Newnham or Girton. I wouldsee your father, my dear Robina, on the subject, and arrange the matterwith him. You would have a right good time, for the lady I have in mymind's eye is a certain Miss Temple, a cousin of my own, a very gentleand sweet woman, who would do all she could for your comfort andhappiness, and would not unduly coerce you. Being Ralph'sschool-mother, and the girl he has chosen above all others as hisspecial friend, I doubt not that he would love the arrangement. As toyour fees at Mrs Burton's school, those can, of course, be managed.What do you say, Robina? Are you willing to continue at Sunshine Lodgeas my dear little boy's greatest friend--in fact, as his littleschool-mother?"
"Oh, I should like it!" said Robina. "But does it not depend on Ralph?"she continued.
Mr Durrant moved rather impatiently. "I have never coerced Ralph inthe least," he answered. "My endeavour has been from his birth to allowmy dear little boy to choose for himself. I believe in the young, clearjudgment of extreme youth. I think that little children can penetratefar. Of all your school-fellows he chose you, Robina; and who, my dearchild, could have been more worthy?"
"But I am full of faults," said Robina, tears springing to her eyes;"you don't really know me. At home I am often blamed. My Aunt Feliciadoesn't think highly of me. You ought to go to my home and ask my ownpeople what they really think with regard to me."
"It is my intention to do so. I must talk to your father and motherabout this plan; but somehow, I do not think they will disappoint me,and as a matter of fact I do not believe any little girl could betterhelp my little son than you can."
"Only suppose--suppose," said Robina, "that he prefers Harriet."
"Harriet?" cried Mr Durrant; "but there is surely no chance of that?"
"I don't know, I am not sure. He likes Harriet certainly next bestafter me; he may even like her better."
"I think not: you are without doubt the favoured one. Robina, we areall alone now. Harriet Lane is your schoolfellow. Tell me honestlywhat you think about her."
Robina sprang to her feet.
"As her schoolfellow," she said, hastily, "I cannot tell you anythingabout her; please don't ask me. This, Mr Durrant, is a very seriousmatter, and I--I would rather not say."
"You have answered me, my child," said Mr Durrant, "and as I thoughtyou would. Now, we will talk no more on the matter."
Robina left him, and went into the grounds. The happy summer days wereslipping by. Why is it that summer days will rush past one so quicklyon such swift wings, that almost before we know it, they have all gone--never, never to return?
The eight little school-mothers at Sunshine Lodge wanted no one goodthing that could add to the joys of life. From morning till night,their cup of bliss seemed to overflow. In addition to all the pleasuresprovided for them, they had perfect weather, for that summer was long tobe remembered in England--that summer when day by day the sun shone inthe midst of a cloudless sky, and the warm, mellow air was a delighteven to breathe.
While on this occasion Mr Durrant was having a long talk with Robinaand giving her to understand what he really wished with regard to thefuture of his little son, that same little son was pouring out his heartto Harriet.
"You is better, isn't you?" he said.
"Yes," replied Harriet, who had resolved to make the very most ofthings. "But I was ill, very ill indeed: I don't think the doctorexpected me to live."
"And you'd have died--you'd have become deaded for me?" said Ralph.
"Yes," answered Harriet, patting the little brown hand. "But I am allright now," she added; "I am only weak."
"I love you like anything," said Ralph.
"Of course you do, Ralph," answered Harriet.
"There is nothing at all I wouldn't do for you."
Harriet longed to say: "Love me better than Robina, and I will haveobtained my heart's desire." But she did not think the time for thisspeech had come yet; and as, in reality, notwithstanding her affectionfor Ralph, she found herself from time to time rather worried by hispresence, she now requested him to leave her, and the little boy randownstairs and out into the open air.
There the first person he saw was his father.
"Oh, dad!" said the boy, dancing up to his parent, and putting hislittle hand in his.
"Well Ralph, old man," said the great traveller, lifting the boy to hisshoulder, "and how are you this afternoon?"
"Werry well," said Ralph, "nearly quite well," he added.
"And how is our other invalid, Harriet Lane?"
"She is better, father. Dear Harriet has been _awfu'_ bad. Did youguess, father, how bad she was?"
"No, my son: and I don't think she was as bad as all that, for thedoctor did not tell me so."
"But she telled me her own self. She wouldn't tell a lie, wouldHarriet."
"Only, Ralph, when people are ill, they imagine they are much worse thanthey really are. That was the case with Harriet. She will be all rightnow in a day or two, and you can enjoy yourself as soon as possible."
"Oh yes; oh yes!" said Ralph. He clasped one arm round his father'sneck. "Why has you got such a big brown neck?"
"Because, I suppose, I am a big brown man."
"I love brown men ever so," said Ralph.
"That is right."
"And I love you best of all; and--and Harriet, and Robina. I has gotthree very great special friends--you, and Harriet, and Robina."
"Why do you put them like that, Ralph?" answered his father, a certainuneasiness in his tone. "You mean it this way: you love father first--that is quite right--then comes Robina, then Harriet."
"It used to be like that," said Ralph, in a very low tone.
"And it is still, my son; it is still."
Ralph fidgetted, and was silent. After a time he said:
"Put me down please, father."
Mr Durrant obeyed.
"Take my hand, father," said Ralph, "I want to lead you somewhere."
Mr Durrant took the little hand. Ralph conducted his father to theedge of the round pond.
"Does you see the water over there?" said Ralph, "just over there wherethe lilies grow?"
"Of course, my dear boy."
"And does you see the branch of the willow tree?"
"Well, yes, Ralph; having eyes, I see both the lilies and the willowtree."
"Could you make a great, great guess, father, about how deep the wateris there?"
"Roughly speaking," said Mr Durrant, "I should say the water in thatpart was from seven to eight feet deep."
Ralph straightened himself and looked full up at his father.
"I isn't eight feet high, is I?"
Mr Durrant laughed.
"You little man," he said, "you are not four feet yet."
"Then if I was to stand bolt upright in that water where the liliesgrow, I'd be drownded dead as dead could be?"
"Were such a thing to happen, you would be."
"But if somebody swimmed out, somebody very, very brave, and clutchedme, and brought me back to shore, I wouldn't be a drownded boy; I'd be asaved boy," said Ralph.
"That is true."
"I'd most likely," continued Ralph, "love that person very much."
"It would be a brave thing to do, certainly," said Mr Durrant. "Butthen it has not happened, Ralph, so don't let your imagination run awaywith you."
"No father," said Ralph; "I won't let my 'magination run 'way with me.I don't quite know what it means, father; but--I won't let it,--'causethen I shouldn't be close to you, father; and I love you best, and thenHarriet, and then Robina."
"Robina is a very fine girl," said his parent. "I like her very much; Iam glad she is your friend."
"So does I like her: she was my school-mother. I like Harriet too,father: I like her _awfu'_ much. I mustn't tell you nothing at all, butI like Harriet best of all my school-mothers."
Mr Durrant thought for a short time over Ralph's little speech to him.It puzzled the good man not a little. He did no
t, however, lay itdeeply to heart. The boy was under the influence of Harriet, and, truthto tell, Mr Durrant did not take to that young lady. He was, however,sufficiently interested in her to pay her a visit that same evening inher own room.
She was a good deal startled and somewhat nonplussed when he firstknocked at the door, then bent his tall head and entered the room.
"Well, Harriet," he said, "I thought I