"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."