dis-pointed," repeated Diana. "I thought, course, you
hated her, 'cos I saw her look at you so smart like, and order you to
be k'ick this morning, and I thought, 'Miss Wamsay don't like that,
and course Miss Wamsay hates her, and if Miss Wamsay hates her, well,
she'll help me, 'cos I hates her awful.'"

"But do you know that all this is very wrong?" said Miss Ramsay.

"W'ong don't matter," answered Diana, sweeping her hand in a certain
direction, as if she were pushing wrong quite out of sight. "I hate
her, and I want to punish her. You ought to hate her, 'cos she told
you to be k'ick, and she looked at you with a kind of a fwown. Won't
you twy and begin? Do, p'ease."

"I really never heard anything like this before in the whole course of
my life," said Miss Ramsay. "Mrs. Dolman did warn me to be prepared
for much, but I never heard a Christian child speak in the way you
are doing."

"I isn't a Chwistian child," said Diana. "I is a heathen. Did you
never hear of Diana what lived long, long ago?--the beautiful, bwave
lady that shotted peoples whenever she p'eased with her bow and
arrows?"

"Do you mean the heathen goddess?" said Miss Ramsay.

"I don't know what you call her, but I is named after her, and I mean
to be like her. My beautiful mother said I was to be like her, and I'm
going to twy. See, now, here is the bow"--she held up the crooked bow
as she spoke--"and I only want the arrow. Will you help me to make the
arrow? I thought--oh, I did think--that if you hated Aunt Jane you
would help me to make the arrow. Here's the stick, and if you have a
knife in your pocket you can just sharpen it, and it will make the
most perfect arrow in all the world. I'll love you then. I'll help you
always. I'll do my lessons if you ask me, and I'll twy to be good to
you; 'cos you and me we'll both have our enemies, and p'w'aps, if I'm
not stwong enough to use the bow, p'w'aps you could use it, and we
might go about together and sting our enemies, and be weal fwiends.
Will you twy? Will you make me the little arrow, p'ease, p'ease?"

"And what are you going to do with the arrow when it is made?" asked
Miss Ramsay. "I happen," she continued, without waiting for Diana's
reply, "to have a knife in my pocket, and I don't mind sharpening that
piece of wood for you. But bows and arrows are dangerous weapons for
little girls like you."

"Course they is dangerous," said Diana. "What would be the use of
'em, if they wasn't? They i