“And why not, pray?” asked Harriet, turning very red.
“Because they are going too far away, and he would not be back in time for bed, so you are to stay at home to look after him.”
“Well, I like that,” said Harriet. “I won’t do anything of the kind.”
“Oh, you needn’t stay, really, Harriet,” interrupted Ralph, who gave up all thought of the gipsies on the spot. “Do please go, Harriet. I don’t mind being left.”
Harriet looked eagerly at him.
“Don’t you?” she said. “Oh, I am sure you don’t; you are a very good little boy.”
“But, I am afraid,” said Miss Ford, “that is not the question. Ralph’s school-mother accepts certain duties, which she must perform, and you can’t go to the picnic, Harriet, for Mrs Burton forbids it. She says you are to stay at home and look after Ralph, and make him as happy as possible.”
Harriet, who never denied herself, was suddenly forced to do so, and in the most disagreeable, unexpected way. She almost hated Ralph at that moment. His brown eyes did not in the least appeal to her, and when he snuggled to her side, and tried to take her hand, she pushed him almost roughly away.
“I hate being pawed!” said Harriet. “You must understand that, Ralph, if you are to be with me always. Very well, Miss Ford,” she continued, turning to the teacher. “I must do what is right, of course.”
“Of course, you must,” said Miss Ford, and she marched away, saying to herself that she pitied Ralph, and wondering—as, indeed, everyone else was wondering—why Harriet had been chosen as his school-mother.