“What I mean I generally manage to do,” was Harriet’s response.
“You do, as a rule,” replied Jane.
“If I get the pony,” said Harriet, “I will let you ride him pretty often. You shall come over to our place, and you shall use my beautiful side-saddle; of course, my habit won’t fit you, you are such a round podge of a girl, but you can wear any old skirt. Shan’t I make that pony fly! I’ll give him beans! Oh, yes; I mean to have him.”
“But, after all,” said Jane, “that depends upon whether Ralph chooses you as his school-mother or not.”
“You leave that to me,” said Harriet.
“I am sure he won’t choose you,” said Jane. “He will choose Robina; he loves her now like anything.”
“He will choose me,” said Harriet. “I have a plan in my head, and he’s certain to.”
“But he hated you to-day,” said Jane. “If you really meant to win his heart, you shouldn’t have been so horridly cross to Curly Pate, and you shouldn’t have slapped him on the face.”
“I know,” said Harriet, in a contrite voice; “my passion got the better of me, but you may be certain I will be on my guard on Saturday. And look here, Jane: you have not the remotest chance on your own account of winning the prize, but if you help me to get it I won’t forget you in the matter of rides, and I will try and get Father and Mother to invite you over to our place very often during the holidays. You will like that, won’t you, Jane?”
“Love it,” said Jane, who, however, was by no means certain on that point, for, although Harriet had great power over her, she was a little afraid of her.