A Little Mother to the Others, L. T. Meade [readict .txt] 📗

at the little fellow. "I intend to wring a confession out of you."

"What's to wring?" asked Orion.

"I am going to get you to tell me where you got the lollipops and ginger-beer."

"I promised not to tell, and I aren't going to," answered Orion.

"But you must. I insist."

"Perhaps, Aunt Jane," said Iris, "I could get him to tell. You see he is not accustomed to—not accustomed to——" Her little face turned crimson.

"What do you mean, Iris? Do you object to the way I speak to this child?"

"Mother never spoke to him like that," said Iris.[135]

"And oh! it is so hot, and he is not well, and I think I can manage him. I may get him to tell me."

"Yes, I'll tell you," said Orion, "'cos you'll be faithful."

"Well, really," said Mrs. Dolman, "I am absolutely perplexed. I suppose I must give in on this occasion, or that child will be really ill, and I by no means wish to have the expense of a doctor. Miss Ramsay, you and I had better leave that little pair together. You can remain with Orion until dinner-time, Iris."

"Thank you very much indeed, Aunt Jane," replied Iris.

That day at dinner Iris looked very grave. Orion was better, but was not present. Mrs. Dolman waited until the meal had come to an end, then she called the little girl to her side.

"Now, my dear Iris, what is all this mystery?" she asked.

"Orion has told me all about it, Aunt Jane, but I don't think I'll tell. Please don't ask me."

"My dear. I insist upon knowing."

"It was not his fault, Aunt Jane, and I am almost sure he will never do it again; he is very sorry indeed. I think he will try to be good in future."

Mrs. Dolman was about to reply angrily, when a sudden memory came over her. She recalled words her brother had used.

"I will give you the children," he had said, "but you must try to be gentle with them."

She looked at Iris now, and did not speak for nearly a minute.

"Very well," she said then; "you are a queer child, but I am inclined to trust you. Only please under[136]stand that if ever there is any misconduct in the future, I shall insist on knowing everything."

"I am greatly obliged to you, Aunt Jane. I could love you for being so kind. I will promise that Orion never does anything of that sort again."

The children all filed out of the dining room. They had now, according to the rule of the day, to return to the schoolroom and lie down for an hour. This part of the daily programme was intensely distasteful to the little Dolmans, and certainly the Delaneys did not appreciate it a bit better, but at long last the wearisome lessons were over, and the little people were free.

The moment they got into the garden Philip and Conrad might have been seen scudding away as fast as their little feet could carry them. Iris, however, had watched them disappearing.

"I want to speak to the boys," she said to Ann.

"Why?" asked Ann.

"Please ask them to come to me, Ann; I have something most particular to say to them."

"I know what you mean," answered Ann, turning crimson; "it was Philip and Conrad who got poor little Orion into mischief. Oh, Iris! it was brave of you, and it was brave of Orion not to tell. I wondered how you had the courage to defy mamma."

"I did not defy her," answered Iris. "But please, Ann, I must speak to the boys. Send them to me at once."

"They are frightened, and are going to hide," said Ann; "but I'll soon get them," she answered. "I know their ways."

After a minute or two she returned, leading Philip and Conrad by the hands.

"Iris wants to talk to you," she said to them.[137]

"Yes," said Iris, "I want to say something to you by yourselves."

Ann disappeared.

"I love Iris," whispered little Ann Dolman to herself. "I think she is beautiful; and how brave she is! I wish I were like her."

"What do you want with us, Iris?" asked Philip, when he found himself alone with his cousin. He raised defiant eyes, and put on an ugly little scowl.

"I want to tell you, Phil," said Iris, "that I know everything. Poor little Orion would not confess, because you got him to promise not to tell; but, of course, he told me the truth. Don't you think you behaved very badly indeed?"

"We don't want you to lecture us," said Conrad.

"All right," replied Iris with spirit. "But please remember that I promised Orion I would not tell, only so long as you make me a promise that you will not tempt him again. If ever I hear that you have led Orion into mischief, I will tell everything."

"I thought you looked like a tell-tale," said Conrad.

"No, I am not, nor is Orion; you know better, both of you. Now, please understand that I will not have Orion made miserable nor tempted to do naughty things. Aunt Jane thinks you are good boys, and she thinks Diana and Orion very bad little children; but neither Orion nor Diana would do the sort of thing you both did yesterday. Neither of them would think of that sort of naughtiness. I call it mean."

Iris walked away with her head in the air. The boys gazed after her with a queer sinking of heart.

[138]

CHAPTER XIII. BIRCH ROD.

Orion speedily recovered from his bad fit of indigestion, and matters began to shake down a little in the schoolroom and nursery. No one meant to be unkind to the little Delaneys; and although all things were changed for them, in some ways both Iris and Apollo were all the better for the strict and vigorous discipline they were now undergoing. Iris really enjoyed her lessons, and when Apollo found that he had no chance of going to school, and of being with "fellows," as he expressed it, until he had conquered certain difficult tasks which Miss Ramsay set him, he began, for his own sake, to apply himself to his lessons. He was a bright, clever little chap, and when he tried to understand his governess' method of teaching, he did his work fairly well. But Diana and Orion were much too young for the somewhat severe transplantation which had taken place in their little lives. Had Iris been allowed to be with them matters might not have grown quite so bad, but she was much occupied with her lessons, and the younger children spent the greater part of their time alone.

Philip and Conrad were afraid to make any further advances to Orion. In consequence, he had no companion near his own age, except Diana, and Diana's little heart, day by day, was growing fuller of insubordinate and angry feelings. She was not at all by[139] nature an unforgiving little child, but the want of petting and the severe life which she was obliged to lead began to tell on her high spirits. She became defiant, and was always looking out for an opportunity to vent her wrath upon the people whom she termed her enemies. Had Iris only had a chance of talking to the little girl, she would soon have got to the bottom of the matter, and things might not have turned out as they did; but Iris did not even sleep in the room with Diana, and in her sister's presence the little girl made a valiant effort to appear as happy as usual. As a matter of fact, however, she and Orion spent most of their playtime in perfecting their little scheme of revenge, and on a certain hot day matters came to a crisis.

It had been much more trying than usual in the schoolroom; the sun seemed to beat in with fiercer rays; there were more flies on the window-panes, and the air seemed more charged with that terrible sleepiness which poor little Diana could not quite conquer. At last she dropped so sound asleep that Miss Ramsay took pity on her, and told her she might go and have a run in the garden.

"Go into the Filbert walk," said the governess; "don't on any account play where the sun is shining. You may stay out for half an hour. There is a clock just by the stables, which you can see when you come to the end of the walk; you will know then when the half-hour is out. Run off now and enjoy yourself."

Diana scarcely wasted any time in thanking Miss Ramsay. She flew from the schoolroom as though she were herself a little arrow shot from a bow, she tumbled rather than walked downstairs, and with no hat over her thick, black curls, careered out wildly,[140] shouting as she did so. The prospect of the walk and the look of the sunshine were making the little girl very happy, and she might not have thought of any special revenge had not Mrs. Dolman at that moment caught sight of her.

Mrs. Dolman was coming out of the kitchen garden. She had on her invariable mushroom hat, her face was much flushed with exercise, and she was by no means in the best of humors.

"Diana," she said, "what are you doing? Come here this minute."

"No, I won't," answered Diana. She backed before the good lady, dancing and skipping and flinging her fat arms over her head. "Oh, it's 'licious out!" she said: "I won't come. I has only got half an hour; I hasn't any time; I won't come."

Mrs. Dolman began to run after her, which fact excited the little girl very much. She instantly raced away, and the stout lady had to follow her, panting and puffing.

"Diana, you are a dreadfully naughty little girl; if I catch you up, won't I punish you!" panted Mrs. Dolman.

"I don't care," called back Diana. "You can't catch me up; you is fat; you can't wun. See, let's have a wace—let's find out who'll be at the end of the walk first. Now then, one, two, three, and away! Go it, Aunt Jane! Now, then, k'ick, Aunt Jane; k'ick!"

Mrs. Dolman's rage at this great impertinence made her almost speechless. She flew after Diana, but would have had little or no chance of catching her, if the child had not suddenly tripped up against a stone and measured her full length on the ground. Before she[141] could rise again Mrs. Dolman had caught her by the shoulder, and, as a preliminary measure, began to shake her violently.

"You are a bad little thing," she said. "Why didn't you come to me when I called you?"

"'Cos I didn't want to, Aunt Jane."

"But do you know that you have got to obey me, miss? What would your mother say?"

"You isn't to dare to talk of mother to me," answered Diana.

"Highty-tighty! I'm not to dare. Do you suppose, Diana, that I will allow a little child like you to defy me in my own house?"

"What's defy?" asked Diana.

"You are defying me now; you are a very naughty little girl, and I shall punish you."

"I don't care," said Diana, tossing her head. "I was sent out by Miss Wamsay 'cos I found the schoolroom too hot and I was sleepy. I can't obey you and Miss Wamsay both at the same time, can I? I did not come to you 'cos I don't like you."

"That's a pretty thing to say to your own aunt. Come, miss, I shall punish you immediately."

"Oh, you's going to lock me up in the punishment woom. I don't care one bit for that," said Diana. "I'll just lie on the floor and curl up like a puppy and go to s'eep. I dweam beautiful when I s'eep. I dweam that you is shotted, and that I is back again in the dear old garden at home with all the pets; and that Rub-a-Dub is alive again. I dweam that you is shotted down dead, and you can do no more harm, and——"

But Diana could not proceed any further. Mrs. Dolman, in her wild indignation, had lifted her in her[142] arms, clapped her hand over her mouth, and carried her bodily into the study, where Mr. Dolman was preparing his sermon.

"William," said his wife, "I am really very sorry to disturb you, but I must ask you to come to my assistance."

"In what way, Jane?" he said. He pushed his spectacles, as his invariable habit was, high up on the middle of his forehead, and looked from his wife to Diana, and from Diana back again to his wife.

"Hi, Diana! is that you? Why, what is the