Book II Chapter 1 The Little School-Mothers by L. T. Meade
A Delightful Proposal
When Ralph Durrant’s father came for him on the day of the great break-up at the school, he found a little boy who said with emphasis that he had several school-mothers, and that he did not wish to say good-bye to any of them. This state of things rather puzzled Mr Durrant, whose one desire in life was to make Ralph intensely happy.
“How am I to manage such a lot of mothers, little man?” he said.
“You must, Father,” replied Ralph. “There is my naughty school-mother—her name is Harriet. She is both naughty and good, and I love her like anything. And there is my beautiful, good school-mother—Robina; and I want not to say good-bye to either of them. I s’pose,” continued Ralph, “that Robina must have the pony; only I wish there were two ponies—”
But here Mrs Burton interfered.
“Ralph,” she said, “I have something to say to your father. Run away for a short time and play with Curly Pate, my dear.”
Ralph, who had been excellently trained by Robina, ran immediately out of the room. Mr Durrant turned and faced Mrs Burton.
“Well,” he said, with a smile, “my little scheme seems to have answered. Ralph was fretting a good deal when I brought him here. He had been badly managed at home: none of his aunts understood him. He missed his dear mother,—who died two years ago,—more than words can say. It was not that he fretted about her, for the dear little man was too young to fret, but he just missed the mothering part of life which all little children need and cannot do without. His aunts are good, but old-fashioned people, and they failed just where they most meant to succeed. Now, I see a dear, healthy, happy little boy, with rosy cheeks and bright eyes. I have to thank you, Mrs Burton, for a great deal.
“You know that I must leave him very soon to return to South Africa. You know, too, that my work while there, leads me into very possible dangers: in fact, I think I may add into certain dangers; and if it were possible to secure a permanent home for my little man in your house, I should love to do so.”
“But this is a school for girls,” said Mrs Burton, with a smile.
“Still, one little boy—my dear friend—one little motherless boy, not six years of age—”
“He is a baby,” said Mrs Burton, “and we all love him. I will think it over.”
“Do, my dear friend. I can scarcely tell you what a weight of care will be lifted from my mind if you will allow me to send Ralph back here at the end of the holidays. But in the meantime, what is this talk about several school-mothers, and in especial about two; one naughty—one whom he loves very dearly, and one good—one whom he also seems to adore? Am I really to give two ponies, two side-saddles, two habits, and provide for the keep of two of these little animals for many years? If you can prove to me that such an action on my part is necessary, I will gladly give not two, but twenty, ponies to Ralph’s little mothers in this school.”
“You are so generous, Mr Durrant, that you would really spoil all my little girls if you were allowed to have your own way,” said the headmistress. “The fact is, this your proposal with regard to the pony was so tempting and so unlooked for, that it very nearly turned the head and the heart of one child in this school. That child—your little boy will tell you her name, so there is no use in my withholding it—is called Harriet Lane. She behaved as she ought not to have done; and although circumstances occurred—which I will also tell you later on—that so terrified her and so appealed to her conscience that she is very much improved now; nevertheless it would never do to give her a pony. You must keep to your decision, Mr Durrant, one pony for one girl, and one school-mother for little Ralph.”
“Very well,” said Mr Durrant. “But I suppose I may do something else for the would-be school-mothers.”
He talked a little longer with Mrs Burton, and the result of this conference was that just before break-up on that lovely summer’s day, the great African explorer made a proposal to the school. It was this:
“I have heard a great deal,” said Mr Durrant, standing on a platform and looking at all the eager faces, “about your goodness to my little boy. I have further heard that the girls of the third form have each in turn acted as his school-mother.”
“Oh yes—oh yes!” said Ralph, coming forward now, and speaking with great eagerness: “I has got eight mothers, and I don’t want to lose one of them. My bestest mothers are my naughty one and my goodest one. Robina is my goodest one, and Harriet is my naughtiest one: I love them best, but I love all the others too.”
“You, I think, are Robina Starling,” said Mr Durrant, fixing his eyes on Robina’s face.
“Yes, sir;” she answered.
“And you have taken good care of my little boy.”
“I love Ralph very much, sir,” said Robina simply.
“And you, too, love him,” said Mr Durrant, turning his eyes by a sort of instinct in the direction where Harriet stood, Harriet still looking pale and lanky and different from the rest of her school-fellows.
“Yes,” said Harriet, with a sort of choke in her voice; “I care for Ralph.”
Little Ralph himself looked full at her. He ran up to her now and took her hand.
“Don’t think about your naughtiness,” he whispered to her. “You is forgived, you know.”
Harriet squeezed the little hand and then let it go. There was a lump in her throat. She could not imagine why Ralph Durrant—a little, little boy—had such power over her.
“And the rest of you are mothers too,” said Mr Durrant, looking from one to the other.
“We all love Ralph,” they answered.
“Well now: I have a proposal to make. I am taking a house at the seaside—a very nice country house for the holidays; and I want to know if all the school-mothers can come and stay with Ralph and me in my house. You are all invited. Will you come? There will be the pony for the special school-mother—for you, Robina. The pony which will be your property, and which you can ride as much as you like, and as long as you like, and lend to your companions when you wish to be good-natured, will be with you. And there will be donkeys—excellent donkeys for the rest of you, and also bicycles, and also a waggonette, and a governess cart; so I think there will be no difficulty in your getting about; and I can promise you beforehand that I am a first-rate person for managing picnics; and that my cook-housekeeper, Mrs Joseph, is famous for her cakes, pies, and puddings; and that my other housekeeper, Mrs Scott, will see to your wardrobes and look after your other comforts. But I wish to warn you beforehand, that there will be no lady in the house. There will be no grown-up lady-woman in my house, so you children will have to look out for storms; for I can be, when I like, a very fierce man, and if there are really naughty children, I can make it unpleasant for them. There, my dear little girls, I am only joking—”
“Father’s awful at his jokes,” interrupted Ralph at that moment. “You is silly, father; you know that you is never cross.”
“Perhaps,” said Mr Durrant, “you had better, girls, take Ralph’s estimate of my character. Anyhow, come those of you who wish to try me, and stay away, those of you who are afraid. The house will be ready to receive you in a fortnight from now. During that time, Ralph and I will enjoy ourselves together. This day fortnight, we shall both be prepared to welcome you at Sunshine Lodge. I am calling the house by that name in advance, for I mean to have the sunshine in it day and night; and by the special sort of sun that I allude to, I mean Kindness, Charity, Unselfishness, Forbearance; and last, but not least, Love. I mean, too, that Pleasure should enter the house—nice, jolly Pleasure—and that Care should keep her wrinkled old face out-of-doors. I mean, in order to secure these things, to have a certain amount of discipline in the house, but that I shall exercise myself, and in my own way. Now, all those who wish to come to Sunshine Lodge, have the kindness to hold up their hands. Those who do not wish to come can keep their hands down.”
“In course you will all come!” said Ralph. “It’s Father’s way to talk like that; but he’s awfu’ jolly, is Father!”
“Yes: I believe I am jolly,” said Mr Durrant. “You had best take Ralph’s estimate of me: it is fair, on the whole. Now girls: who’ll come? who’ll stay?”
Was there an instant’s hesitation? Every hand was raised: every eye said “Yes.” Every mouth shouted, “I am going!” Every little heart quivered with excitement.
“Then you will all come: you will all trust me,” said Mr Durrant. “Now you need not trouble any more about the matter. Get ready for the fun; for fun it will be, I assure you—fun, fast and furious; fun from morning till night, and in a certain sense from night till morning. I will get the addresses of your parents from Mrs Burton, and will write to them individually, and I think I can promise that there won’t be one refusal. The eight little mothers shall join Ralph and me at Sunshine Lodge in a fortnight. And now, my dears, good-bye for the present.”
Mr Durrant took Ralph’s hand as he spoke. Ralph turned, however, as they were leaving that sunny part of the grounds where this animated and exciting scene had just taken place.
“Good-bye, mothers: good-bye, all of you!” shouted Ralph, kissing his hand frantically to the eight little girls.
He disappeared round the corner, a proud little figure in his pretty costume, and the school-girls looked one at the other.