“But there is something for it,” said Patience Chetwold. “You are withdrawing because you know something, and because you won’t say it, and is that right or fair either to Mr Durrant or Ralph? Robina, before you leave us, you have got to answer one question, and to answer it truthfully.”
“Well, what is it?” said Robina.
“You have never told a lie, and you know that,” said Patience.
“I don’t think I ever have,” said Robina, thoughtfully. “No, I am sure I never have told even the tiniest little half lie.”
“Very well,” said Patience, in a voice of triumph; “you will tell the truth now.”
“Or be silent,” said Robina.
“Oh well, we will take your silence for what it is worth. Anyhow,” said Patience, “have I the permission of the rest of you girls to ask Robina a question in all our names?”
“Certainly, certainly!” they said; and they crowded round Patience, who placed herself in the middle of the group.
Patience was a tall, fair-haired girl with a great deal of quiet power and dignity in her own way.
“This is a question which appeals to all us school-mothers,” she said. “We all feel ourselves more or less responsible for little Ralph. Mr Durrant put him, as it were, under our charge when he brought him to Abbeyfield School. Ralph chose Harriet to be his favourite school-mother. Then we all know what happened, and Harriet, as we hoped, repented, and we were glad; and you, Robina, were chosen as the real school-mother, and you won the pony, and we were glad of that too. But now things are changed. Still that fact does not alter the other fact that we are still Ralph’s school-mothers, and that we are bound, if necessary, to protect him.