ling and noble. Yes, mother; we all know about our
names."

"I am glad of that," said Mrs. Delaney. "I gave you the names for a
purpose. I wanted you to have names with meaning to them. I wanted you
to try to live up to them. Now, Iris, that I am really going away, I
am afraid you children will find a great many things altered. You have
hitherto lived a very sheltered life; you have just had the dear old
garden and the run of the house, and you have seen your father or me
every day. But afterwards, when I have gone, you will doubtless have
to go into the world; and, my darling, my darling, the cold world does
not always understand the meaning of names like yours, the meaning of
strength and beauty and nobleness, and of bright, sparkling, and high
ideas. In short, my little girl, if you four children are to be worthy
of your names and to fulfill the dreams, the longings, the _hopes_ I
have centered round you, there is nothing whatever for you to do but
to begin to fight your battles."

Iris was silent. She had very earnest eyes, something like her
mother's in expression. They were fixed now on Mrs. Delaney's face.

"I will not explain exactly what I mean," said the mother, giving the
little hand a loving squeeze, "only to assure you, Iris, that, as the
trial comes, strength will be given to you to meet it. Please
understand, my darling, that from first to last, to the end of life,
it is all a fight. 'The road winds uphill all the way.' If you will
remember that you will not think things half as hard, and you will be
brave and strong, and, like the rainbow, you will cheer people even in
the darkest hours. But, Iris, I want you to promise me one thing--I
want you, my little girl, to be a mother to the others."

"A mother to the others?" said Iris, half aloud. She paused and did
not speak at all for a moment, her imagination was very busy. She
thought of all the creatures to whom she was already a mother, not
only her own dear pets--the mice in their cages, the silk-worms, the
three dogs, the stray cat, the pet Persian cat, the green frogs, the
poor innocents, as the children called worms--but in addition to
these, all creatures that suffered in the animal kingdom, all flowers
that were about to fade, all sad things that seemed to need care and
comfort. But up to the present she had never thought of the other
children except as her equals. Apollo was only a year younger than
herself, and in some ways braver and stouter