All of a sudden, the wish to pick some water-lilies for Harriet returned to him. He would show her by this means how truly he loved her. She did want the lilies, he knew it, for he had seen her tugging so hard at one. "And she just lost her balance," he said to himself. "Poor, poor Harriet: It would have been horrid if she had falled into the pond!" The thought of getting some lilies for Harriet restored the little boy's sense of happiness. He was his father's own son, and knew no fear. Harriet was one of his school-mothers--the school-mother he loved second best. He made up his mind quickly to pluck three yellow lilies for her, and four white ones. That would be seven in all. Someone had told him that seven made a perfect number. He could easily reach the lilies if he climbed the willow tree, and gently pushed himself along that branch which bent over the pond. No sooner did the thought come than he proceeded to put it into action. The supple bough, however, bent very low beneath his weight. Ralph was but a little boy, however, and the bough would undoubtedly hold him if he did not go too far along its slender stem. He had plucked one lily, and his little hand had grasped a second, when all of a sudden there was an ominous crack at the further end of the bough. It bent so low into the water now that Ralph's balance was upset, and he found himself struggling in the deep pond. Ralph was not a minute in the water before Harriet, who was really not far off, rushed to the spot. Into the pond she plunged, seized the boy by his collar and dragged him with some slight difficulty to the shore. They were both very wet, but neither of them in the least hurt. Harriet stood by, dripping from head to foot. "Oh, Ralph, Ralph!" she cried. "Did you do that to show that you loved me?" "Yes; oh yes;" said Ralph. "Why, I nearly died for you, and you nearly died for me!" "We must be the best and greatest of friends now," said Harriet, quick to seize the opportunity. "But come into the house at once; you must get all your things off, or you will catch cold. Oh, and Ralph; promise me one thing--this shall be a secret between you and me. You will never tell anybody that you risked your life to get me the flowers, and I will never tell a soul that I risked mine to save you." "Oh--but you are splendid!" said Ralph. "Why, I should be dead now but for you, Harriet." "Of course you would, Ralph," she answered; but she took care not to tell him that she was an excellent swimmer and had not risked her life in the very least when she sprang into the pond to save the little boy. Book 2--CHAPTER SEVEN. MR DURRANT'S NEW PLAN.