“Now we must be very quick,” she said. “If you don’t mind, we will run all the way.”
“Where is we going?” asked Ralph.
“We are going to have a jolly time,” replied Harriet. “Now, Ralph, you clearly understand; you are going to be put on your honour.”
“Yes,” said Ralph, looking important; “Father says that sometimes.”
”‘Your honour’ means this,” continued Harriet: “You will never tell anybody what we are doing.”
“Course not,” replied Ralph. “I aren’t a tell-tale.”
“He isn’t, either,” said Harriet, looking at Pattie. “He is quite a good little boy, when he chooses. Well, then, we are ready, and I hope, Pattie, you are prepared to give us a very good time.”
Pattie answered at once that she was. In her heart of hearts, however, she was doubtful. Her father and mother were poor. Dr Pyke’s practice was not a large one, and he found it difficult to make both ends meet. Then, there were numerous little Pykes at home—Pykes of all ages, from Pattie, whose years numbered twelve, to the baby, who was only three months old. It seemed to Pattie that the children swarmed everywhere. Still, she had a whole shilling stowed away in her purse in the corner of a drawer in her bedroom, that could be spent at the fair, and it was grand and delightful to bring a girl from Mrs Burton’s to tea with her, and she also felt sure that little Ralph would have a welcome.
When they reached the house, an ivy-covered house of old-fashioned make, which stood a little back from the village street, she found the hall door open.
“Now, then, Harriet, come in,” she said, and Harriet and Ralph entered.