The Little School-Mothers

“Now, that’s better,” said Mr Durrant, when the girl had sipped a little and looked round her. “But, my dear Harriet, my last instructions were that none of you were to go into the water. Of course, I know what a dangerous coast this is, and after the storm of last night, you ran the most fearful risk.”

“But she was brave! she was noble! She did, she did try to save me!” said Ralph, clasping Harriet’s hand and fondling it as his brown eyes filled with tears.

“Oh yes; that is quite true,” said Mr Durrant. He spoke quietly. “Still,” he said, “I don’t understand why my message was disobeyed.”

“But we never heard anything about it. We shouldn’t have dreamed of going into the water,” said Frederica, “if we had known that you did not approve.”

“I told Jane that you were none of you to bathe until I came back. Harriet, there is no telegram from your father: you must consider no news as good news.”

“Oh yes,” said Harriet, in a faint voice. She took Ralph’s hand and whispered to him: “Stay close to me. When you are close to me, I won’t be seeing all the time your little head going under the water.”

“We have a great deal to be thankful for,” said Mr Durrant.

“But I cannot understand Jane Bush. She seemed in great distress about you, Harriet, and said that you were fretting terribly about your father. She wanted herself to go back to try and get news from the yacht, but of course I offered to go. Still, I gave implicit directions that you were none of you to bathe. Where is Jane?”

“I think she had a headache,” said Harriet. “Anyhow, she said she would go back and stay near the yacht. She thought, perhaps, one of the boatmen would see her and take her on board.”

“And she never gave you my message?”

“Certainly not,” said Harriet.

“Well, my dear,” said Mr Durrant after a pause, “I am exceedingly sorry that this should have happened; but nevertheless we have much to be thankful for. I have given that poor brave sailor what I hope he will consider a suitable reward. And now, children, I think we will get back to the yacht: the sooner Harriet lies down the better. I can see, my dear, that your own head is aching badly.”

“It is; I feel queer and rather sick,” said Harriet.

“I have ordered a waggonette to meet us, and we will drive back to Totland Bay: you are all much too tired to walk,” said Mr Durrant; “all except you, you plucky little man,” he added, looking at his little son. “You don’t seem a bit the worse.”

“I wasn’t a bit frighted, father,” said Ralph, speaking with great excitement, “’cause I knew.”

“What did you know, my boy?”

“That Harriet would save me, ’cause she,” – the words came out with a rush – “did it afore!”

Everyone looked at Harriet, who turned very pale. “Is this the second time you have saved Ralph, my dear Harriet?” asked Mr Durrant.

“Ralph?” said Harriet. “You know you ought not to speak – ”

“Don’t ask her, father,” said Ralph.

“I ask her nothing. She has saved your life this time, that I can testify. You are a brave girl, Harriet; forgive me for having doubted you. Bravery like yours must be accompanied by other noble traits of character. I will say no more for the present except to add that you ran a terrible risk, and that whatever your good intentions, you could not possibly have saved Ralph but for the aid of that brave sailor who brought you both back to shore.”

The said sailor now appeared on the scene to announce the approach of the carriage which was to convey the party to the yacht. They all got in, and in a short time were back again on board the “Sea-Gull.” The first person they saw when they stood on the deck of the pretty little yacht was Jane, whose white face and anxious eyes would have told too much of her story had not Harriet rushed up to her, squeezed her hand and managed to whisper:

“It is all right; and you have but to say boldly now that you forgot to give me the message about not bathing.”

“Is that you, Jane Bush?” said Mr Durrant at that moment.

“Yes, sir,” said Jane, coming forward.

Harriet gave her fingers a squeeze. That squeeze seemed to say:

“Five pounds will be yours – five beautiful, lovely, golden sovereigns! Don’t lose your courage now.”

“I particularly gave you a message, Jane, when you were so anxious for me to return to the yacht on Harriet’s behalf. Did you forget it?”

“What message, sir?” asked Jane.

“I requested the young people – in fact, I did much more than request, I desired the young people not on any account to go into the water until my return.”

“O, sir – so you did!” said Jane.

“And you never gave the message?”

“No, sir,” said Jane, dropping her head.

“And why not, pray? It was very important.”

“I – I had a headache, sir.”

“You – in fact – forgot?”

“Yes, Mr Durrant, I – I forgot,” said Jane.

“Another time, please remember. You might be an intensely miserable girl now but for the exceeding bravery of a man who happened to see our little party from one of the cliffs. Two lives were in extreme danger – the life of your own special friend, Harriet Lane, and the life of my little son. Harriet was bravest of the brave, and did manage to come to his rescue and to hold his head above water at the critical moment, but neither of the children could have possibly resisted the current had not this man swum into the water in his clothes and brought them back to land. So be more careful in future, Jane, that is all.” Mr Durrant turned away.

“You have earned your five pounds, I am sure and certain of that,” said Harriet to her companion on the evening of that same day.

Book Two – Chapter Thirteen

Robina’s Decision

The swimming adventure took place on Friday. Saturday passed without anything special occurring. Sunday was a lovely day, when they all steamed about and enjoyed the fresh breezes, and, as Mr Durrant expressed it, forgot dull Care. Monday also passed without excitement, and on Tuesday, the little party returned in a body to Sunshine Lodge.

Now the crucial moment was close at hand, and what might have occurred but for an unexpected obstacle, no one can quite say; for there is little doubt that Mr Durrant was deeply impressed by Harriet’s conduct. He was such a brave man himself, that he could not but admire bravery in others, and the girl who had risked her life for his son was not to be lightly regarded. He still continued to feel much puzzled about her, and still, in his heart of hearts, much preferred Robina.

But Robina Starling was by no means at her best just now. She looked dull and sad and, notwithstanding every effort, care would sit upon her young brow and visit her frank, although troubled, eyes. Still, the person who really quite upset the whole scheme which had been so carefully planned by Harriet Lane was the one who, under ordinary circumstances, might have been least expected to do so. Her own familiar friend was the obstacle who made matters just in the moment of apparent victory exceedingly difficult.

Jane Bush was supposed to be a very commonplace little girl. In one sense, this was true. She was not particularly clever: she was not at all good-looking: she had few chances in life. She had, however, her good points. She was devoted to the little brother and sister, who, much younger than herself, had none of the advantages which she enjoyed. While Harriet, in her way, was fearless and bold, Jane was a little bit of a coward. Now cowards are extremely useful to wicked, designing people. They are so easily entrapped, and when once they are in the toils, it is almost impossible for them to get out again.

Jane felt herself in the toils as far as Harriet was concerned. Nevertheless, she was very unhappy. Harriet, who must have a confidante, had given Jane a graphic account of what really occurred in the little cove not far from Totland Bay. Jane had listened with her usual, absorbed attention, her round black eyes fixed on her companion’s pale face. In the excitement of the narrative, Harriet had squeezed Jane’s hand, and had said, with passionate emphasis:

“Oh! it was such a near thing! and when I saw him throw up his dear little hands, and when I noticed that his little brown head went under the waves, I thought I should go mad. Your five pounds, my own future, all the happiness that I had planned for myself, seemed to me as nothing at all – as nothing at all at that awful moment.”

“I understand,” said Jane. She spoke in a very low voice. “You don’t know, Harriet,” she said then, “what I felt on board the yacht. They let me on at once, of course, for the second mate saw me and sent a boat to the pier, and I was on deck with nothing to do only just to look at the sea and think. You must have all been in the water at the time, for there came up a cloud, and the sea got quite rough, and I heard the second mate say to one of the officers that there was a squall coming on. Oh! I was nearly mad!”

“Yes; that was about the time,” said Harriet, calmly. “It was a very fearful time. It was then, just then, that I was earning my happy, happy time with Ralph; my splendid future with all my educational expenses paid: and you, you silly Jane, were earning your five pounds. We were getting these things through our pain. I suppose it was worth it.”

“I don’t know,” said Jane, in a listless voice, “perhaps so.”