“Has you found out what is wrong with Robin?”
“There is nothing whatever wrong with her: don’t be a goose, Ralph,” said Harriet.
But Ralph’s longing brown eyes went straight to the sorrowful girl seated by herself in the distant corner. His little child fancy returned to her in her trouble. Harriet, however, who felt now quite sure of her own position, was not going to permit Ralph to forsake her. She sat down in a chair and called him to her side.
“Who allowed you to sit up to supper?”
“Why, you, in course, Harriet.”
“Which of the school-mothers do you love best?”
“Harriet,” said Ralph, glancing again at Robina’s bowed head: “I has said it so often.”
“All right, say it once more, or you go to bed.”
“I love you,” said the child.
“Put your arms tight around me, and kiss me, as you did round Robina just now.”