"It is my intention to do so. I must talk to your father and mother about 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 better help 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 best after me; he may even like her better." "I think not: you are without doubt the favoured one. Robina, we are all alone now. Harriet Lane is your schoolfellow. Tell me honestly what you think about her." Robina sprang to her feet. "As her schoolfellow," she said, hastily, "I cannot tell you anything about her; please don't ask me. This, Mr Durrant, is a very serious matter, and I--I would rather not say." "You have answered me, my child," said Mr Durrant, "and as I thought you would. Now, we will talk no more on the matter." Robina left him, and went into the grounds. The happy summer days were slipping by. Why is it that summer days will rush past one so quickly on 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 good thing that could add to the joys of life. From morning till night, their cup of bliss seemed to overflow. In addition to all the pleasures provided for them, they had perfect weather, for that summer was long to be remembered in England--that summer when day by day the sun shone in the midst of a cloudless sky, and the warm, mellow air was a delight even to breathe. While on this occasion Mr Durrant was having a long talk with Robina and giving her to understand what he really wished with regard to the future of his little son, that same little son was pouring out his heart to Harriet. "You is better, isn't you?" he said. "Yes," replied Harriet, who had resolved to make the very most of things. "But I was ill, very ill indeed: I don't think the doctor expected 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 all right 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 have obtained my heart's desire." But she did not think the time for this speech had come yet; and as, in reality, notwithstanding her affection for Ralph, she found herself from time to time rather worried by his presence, she now requested him to leave her, and the little boy ran downstairs 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 his little hand in his.