"Horrid little sticky things," she was heard to say, "with their lollipops in their hands and their faces wanting washing, and their clothes so grubby!" These statements were quite false, for the small children were kept by their kind teacher, Miss Ford, in the most immaculate order. But Harriet was well-known in the school not to stick to the truth when she wished to give vent to her sentiments. Now, however, her feelings were changed. She must, of course, find the king and queen at once. "Ridiculous name!" she murmured. "That little tiresome, fat baby girl and that small boy, dressed for all the world as though he were a peacock! But still--but still--a pony with a side-saddle and habit, and his keep provided for, is worth struggling to win. And then it would be _such_ fun to get the prize over Robina's head. She is certain sure of it already, I see by her smug face. I am sure I am clever enough to get this from her, and I will." Harriet now spied both children standing much too near the edge of a round pond which ornamented part of the grounds. "Oh, Curly Pate!" she shrieked. "Come back this minute, you naughty child, from the edge of the water!" Curly Pate, who had been gazing at her own little image in the pond, looked up. Her fair face was flushed with passion, and seizing Ralph's hand, she said imperiously: "Turn away, king. Curly Pate hates that howwid dirl." Harriet was near enough to hear the words. Angry already, and disliking Curly Pate more than words could say, she rushed up to her now, seized her by the waist, and planted her several feet away from the pond. "There, you naughty, disobedient little thing!" she said. "You'll be drowned if you don't take care!" Curly Pate burst into roars of tears, and set to work screaming as she alone knew how. Ralph, furious at having his queen abused, turned to Harriet and began to beat her. "Go away, go away!" he said. "You're not a bit a nice girl. Go away, you horrid thing!" "Horrid thing yourself!" said Harriet and she slapped Ralph across the face. Little Ralph Durrant was much too proud to cry; the slap stung him, and the little olive-tinted face grew red. After a minute, during which he was struggling with himself, he turned towards Harriet and said gently: "'Twasn't ladylike of you to slap me, but I forgive you." "Oh, your Mightiness! Do you, indeed?" said Harriet. "I am sure, your Majesty, I am exceedingly obliged." The scornful tone was quite new to little Ralph. What would have happened next is hard to tell, if at that moment Robina had not rushed up. "Well, Curly," she said; "well, my little precious! Why, what are you crying about? And Ralph, dear, is anything the matter with you?"