d.

"You need not say Aunt Jane Dolman," replied the lady; "that is a very
stiff way of speaking. Say Aunt Jane. You can kiss me, little boy."

Apollo raised his lips and bestowed a very chaste salute upon Aunt
Jane's fat cheek.

"What is your name?" said Aunt Jane, taking one of his small, hard
hands in hers.

"Apollo," he replied, flinging his head back.

"Apollo! Heaven preserve us! Why, that is the name of one of the
heathen deities--positively impious. What could my poor sister-in-law
and your father have been thinking of? At one time I considered your
father a man of sense."

Apollo flushed a beautiful rosy red.

"Please, Aunt Jane," he said, "I like my name very much indeed, and I
would rather you did not say a word against it, because mother gave it
to me."

"It is a name with a beautiful meaning," said Iris, coming forward at
last. "How are you Aunt Jane? My name is Iris, and this is Diana, and
this is Orion--both Diana and Orion are very good children indeed,
and"--here her lips quivered, her earnest, brown eyes were fixed with
great solicitude on her aunt's face--"I ought to know," she said, "for
I am a mother to the others, and, I think, please, Aunt Jane, Orion
and Diana should be going to bed now."

"I have not the slightest objection, my dear. I simply wished to see
you children. I will say good-night now; we can have a further talk
to-morrow. But first, before I go, let me repeat over your names, or
rather you--Apollo, I think you call yourself--had better say them for
me."

"That is Iris," said Apollo, pointing to his elder sister, "and I am
Apollo, and that is Diana, and that is Orion."

"All four names taken from the heathen mythology," replied Aunt Jane,
"and I, the wife of a good honest clergyman of the Church of England,
have to listen to this nonsense. I declare it may be inconvenient--it
may frighten the parishioners. I must think it well over. I have, of
course, heard before of girls being called Diana, and also of girls
being called Iris--but Apollo and Orion! My poor children, I am sorry
for you; you are burdened for life. Good-night, good-night! You will
see me again to-morrow."

The great dinner-gong sounded through the house, and Aunt Jane sailed
away from the day-nursery.

"Fortune, who is she?" asked Iris, raising a pair of almost frightened
eyes to the old nurse's face.

"She is your father's sister, my darling," said Fortune. "She has come
on a visit, and uninvited,