The Little School-Mothers

“I is,” said Ralph, “but I mustn’t go, must I, Robina?”

He looked straight at Robina for guidance.

“I don’t know,” replied Robina, just glancing at him, and then looking away.

“But Robina, do tell him to go,” said Patience. “If any two people at the present moment are supposed to have authority over Ralph, you and Harriet are those individuals. Harriet has gone away to mop her dress, and Ralph looks quite white with fatigue.”

“I cannot interfere,” said Robina.

“Very well,” said Patience; “then I will: I am a school-mother too. This sort of thing has got to end. Come, Ralph, I shall take you to bed.”

“But won’t Harriet be – be – angry?” said the little fellow, his lips quivering.

“You leave the matter to me,” said Patience. She looked strong and determined. “Your father would wish it,” she said; and at these words and at the cool feel of her hand, Ralph yielded to his own inclinations and left the room with her.

When they got upstairs, however, he asked her once or twice rather piteously if she thought Harriet would mind.

“I will see that she doesn’t,” said Patience. “You leave it to me, Ralph.”

“Oh but,” said Ralph, as he got into his little pyjamas, “she has been so awfully brave, you know – saved my life, you know.”

“Yes, I know all that,” said Patience, “and I know of course that you are very grateful to her; but I do wonder something, Ralph.”

“What is that?” asked the child.

“If you understand the difference between very grateful to a person and loving a person very dearly?” Ralph looked immensely puzzled.

“I mean this,” said Patience, wondering at her own audacity. “You say that Harriet saved your life.”

“Yes,” said Ralph, with great determination. “Her did.”

“But before she saved your life, you didn’t care for her so very, very much, did you?”

“Not so awfully as all that,” said Ralph, considering his words.

“But afterwards?” continued Patience.

“Couldn’t help it arterards,” said Ralph. “Her did it twice, you know.”

Patience did not know, but she was determined to treasure up the information given unwittingly by Ralph.

“Well,” she said after a minute’s pause, “I understand of course quite well that you are awfully obliged to her and all that, and that perhaps you do love her. But you don’t love her better than your father, do you?”

“Better nor father?” said Ralph. “In course not?”

“But did he ever save your life?”

“No,” said Ralph; “but then he is father.”

“I see quite well, my wise little man,” said Patience, tucking him up and kissing him. “Now Robina never saved your life: but you – you love her notwithstanding that?”

“Awful much!” said Ralph.

“I saw you kiss her to-night,” said Patience.

“Cause I love her so much,” said Ralph.

“Good-night now, Ralph. Sleep very sound.”

“Wait till I say my ‘Matthew, Mark,’” said Ralph.

He closed his eyes, repeated the old song rapidly and, before the last words had come to an end, was asleep.

Patience went downstairs. By this time Harriet had returned. She had been forced to remove the poor chocolate-stained white frock and to put on another, which did not make her look half so well dressed. She was still feeling cross and sore. As soon as she entered the room, her first exclamation was, “Where is Ralph?”

“Gone to bed,” said Frederica Chetwold.

“Gone to bed?” said Harriet. “Who has given Ralph leave to go to bed?”

“Patience took him to bed. You had better not interfere about it,” said Frederica: “for if you do,” she continued, “we’ll all tell Mr Durrant in the morning. You are not school-mother yet, so don’t be over sure of things.”

At that moment, Robina got up and left the room. Harriet sank down in a chair. She was trembling with suppressed passion.

“I wonder,” she said, after a pause, “why you all dislike me as you do. Of course,” she added, “there can be but one explanation, and that is, jealousy.”

“Not at all,” said Patience. “As a matter of fact, I don’t believe there is a girl amongst us who would change with you; for to change with you, Harriet Lane, would be to possess your nature, and that is what none of us wish for. But we are quite determined to see justice done to Ralph.”

“Justice done to Ralph?” said Harriet.

“Yes: and to Robina. We know what has happened to-night, for Robina told us.”

“Oh, she told you!” said Harriet. “That is so like her.”

“Yes; she said she was not going to compete. Now, she must have a reason for that, and Frederica and I and Rose and Cecil and Vivian are all absolutely resolved to find out what that reason is. We have been invited to this house and have been given this happy time, because in a sort of way we also are Ralph’s school-mothers. You expect a great triumph in the morning, Harriet. Well all I can say is this: look out for storms.”

“It is that horrid, horrid Robina! There is no spiteful thing she would not do against me,” said Harriet. “But Ralph loves me best. I don’t pretend that I don’t want the post: I do want it. I haven’t a happy home like most of you: and to be Ralph’s school-mother, and to live here would be of great moment to me. It would mean all my future being assured. You can’t think what it would mean; for you don’t any of you know what it is to be – oh – poor!” Harriet’s face turned very pale.

“Ralph does love me, and why should not he? and if Mr Durrant is contented to choose me, and Robina doesn’t want to be school-mother – ”

“Robina doesn’t want to be school-mother!” interrupted Patience. “You are either a goose or a liar, Harriet; for you know that in her heart of hearts, Robina is dying to be school-mother to little Ralph – and not for your horrid worldly reasons, but because she – she loves him! Oh, we did think that you repented that time at school, but your conduct since you came here has puzzled us dreadfully.”

Harriet, however, had now recovered herself. This attack on the part of her school-fellows was unexpected, and at first she was almost thrown off her usual balance of mind. Her customary self-possession very nearly deserted her, but now she recovered it.

“After all,” she said, “you may think what you please. By this time to-morrow I shall be established in my position, and I don’t think either Ralph or his father will regret it. As you, Patience, have taken it upon you to order Ralph to bed – a thing which I imagine you will never have the power to do again – I shall not disturb him to-night: but when I am his school-mother, he will do what I wish, please understand: he will have passed out of your life, Patience, and out of the lives of all the rest of you, and you need not call yourselves by the ridiculous name of school-mothers any longer. You will be back to your horrid school life, and I wish you joy of it. I shall stay here, and be happy. I wish, however, to say one thing. I think it exceedingly shabby of Robina to give up the contest at the eleventh hour. It shows that notwithstanding your high opinion of her she is a coward at heart. She is so certain that she will be beaten, that she won’t wait to witness her own discomfiture. Ralph choose Robina, indeed! There never was any chance of that.”

“No,” said Patience, “and that brings us to another thing. Dear little Ralph told me that you saved his life – ”

“Good gracious!” said Harriet: “didn’t you all see me do it?”