y to
her as a cloak.

Iris gazed at her in perplexity.

"Di," she said, "I never saw you like this before. What are you
turning away from me for? Come to me, Di; do come to me."

Diana's little breast heaved more than ever, tears came into her eyes,
but she blinked them furiously away.

"You can come to me, if you want; I shan't come to you. You isn't much
of a mother," she repeated.

"But I did not know you were in trouble, darling. Do, do come to your
own Iris. Do tell me what is the matter."

"Oh, Iris!" sobbed Diana.

The first kind note utterly melted her little heart; she rushed to
her sister, flung herself upon her, and sobbed as if she would never
stop crying.

"We can't stay in this howid place, Iris," she said; "all my darlin's
has gone and got deaded. That howid old woman upstairs said they was
wermin. She has killed 'em all. I can't stay here; I won't stay here.
Take me back to the beautiful garden. Do, Iris; do. I'se just so
mis'ble."

Iris sat down on one of the hard-backed chairs.

"Look here, Di," she said, "I have no time now to talk things over
with you. Of course, everything is altered, and our lives are
completely changed. When mother was dying, when I last saw her, she
told me that I must expect this. She said she knew that, when she went
away to the angels, we four children would have to go out into the
world and fight our battles. She said that everybody in the world has
got a battle to fight, and even little children have to fight theirs.
She said, too, that if we were brave and the kind of children she
wants us to be, we would follow the names she gave us and conquer our
enemies. Now, Di, you are called after Diana, the great Diana, who was
supposed to be a sort of goddess. Do you think she would have given
in? Don't you think she would have been brave?"

"Yes, course," said the little nineteenth-century Diana. "She would
have shotted people down dead with her bow and arrows--I know kite
well she was a bwave sort of a lady. All wight, Iris, I'll copy her if
you wishes."

"Indeed I do wish, darling. I think it would be splendid of you."

"She was a very bwave lady," repeated Diana. "She had her bow and her
arrows; she was a gweat huntwess, and she shotted people. I don't
mind copying her one little bit."

Diana dried away her tears and looked fixedly at her sister.

"Then you really mean to be good and brave, Di?"

"Certain sure, Iris."

"And you won't call Aunt Jane any m