By this time, however, Ralph had forgotten all about her. He and Curly Pate had gone away to a little distance. Curly Pate was on her knees picking daisies, and Ralph was standing over her, after the fashion of kings when they choose to govern their queens and give directions. "Longer stems, Curly; bigger flowers, Curly. Oh, you silly! not that one--that one with the red all round, it's broader. Now, then--_I'll_ show you how to pick them." "Peese, king! peese!" replied the impatient queen. Harriet was not interested in the small children, and just at that moment something occurred. A girl from the neighbourhood, of the name of Pattie Pyke, was seen walking down the avenue. She was the doctor's daughter, and was the only girl who was ever allowed to come to the school to take lessons. She joined the third form twice a week for German lessons, but was never with them during recreation. In consequence, she was scarcely counted at all in the school life. Harriet and she, however, had managed to take up a sort of acquaintanceship which never until this moment had developed into friendship. Pattie was a plain girl, large for her age, stoutly built, and with a face covered with freckles. She had small blue eyes and a snub nose. Her hair was somewhat inclined to be carroty, and she had white eyelashes and eyebrows. Notwithstanding this, she was a pleasant girl enough, and had plenty of ability. "Hallo!" she said now, when she saw Harriet. "Why, I thought, of course, you'd be off to the picnic!" "Well, I'm not, you see," answered Harriet ungraciously; "I am here." Pattie drew nigh. The real desire of her life was to make friends with one of the school-girls. She was always imploring her father to send her to the school as a boarder, but hitherto he had been deaf to her entreaties. "I was coming to the school with a note," said Pattie; "Father told me to leave it. I did not think I'd meet one of you. I am surprised to see you." "Well, you need not be. You were not at school this morning, or you would know why I am here." "No, I had a cold, and Father thought I had best not go. He is so awfully particular, for fear of my giving anything to the rest of the girls. I am better now, but I must not be out long; my throat is rather sore." "You look quite well," said Harriet. "It's only my throat that's a little bad. Please, do tell me about this morning." "And the great triumph for me," said Harriet. "Ralph, don't go out of sight!" She shrieked these words to Ralph, who immediately paused, turned, and looked at her, then came in her direction, holding Curly Pate's hand. "Do you see that child?" said Harriet. "Yes--the little darling!" cried Pattie. "Little Ralph Durrant. Father raves about him; he says that he will be the richest man in England some day."