THE STRAW TOO MUCH.
The crunching of wheels was heard distinctly on the gravel, and the
next moment the wagonette swept into view. The horses drew up with a
nourish at the front door of the pretty Rectory, and the five little
Dolmans rushed forward.
"Stand back, children, and allow your cousins to get comfortably out
of the carriage," called out Mrs. Dolman. "No excitement, I beg, from
any of you--I have had quite enough of that already. Stand quietly
just where you are. Lucy, where is Miss Ramsay?"
"Up in her room, I think, mamma. Shall I call her?"
"Not at present, although she ought to have been here. Now, Iris, get
out quietly--quietly, my dear. Apollo, give me your hand, you come
next; now, Diana--easy, little girl, easy--you will fall, if you jump
like that."
"I think nothing of a little easy hop like that, aunt," replied Diana.
She sprang from the carriage, disdaining the use of the steps. When
she found herself on the gravel sweep she stood very firmly on her two
fat legs and looked her five cousins all over.
"You aren't none of you much to boast," she said; "I'd wather have the
animals." Then she turned her back and gazed around her at the view.
Meanwhile, Orion was being helped out of the carriage. He was also
very sturdy and independent, and felt half inclined to follow Diana's
spirited example; but Mrs. Dolman would not permit this. She took the
youngest of the little heathen gods firmly into her arms and deposited
him on the gravel.
"There you are, little boy," she said, giving him a slight shake as
she did so, "and I do trust you will behave yourself."
Orion ran up to Diana and took hold of her hand. Diana took no notice
of him, but continued to admire the view.
Mrs. Dolman's face was quite red. She was very tired after her long
journey, and she had found the little Delaneys not the easiest
traveling companions in the world. It is true that Iris had been as
good as possible, but between whiles she had cried a good deal, and
her sad face, and somewhat reproachful expression, seemed to hurt Mrs.
Dolman even more than the really obstreperous, and at times violent,
behavior of her brothers and sister; for the fact is, the other three
little Delaneys had not yet got the slightest idea into their heads
that they were bound to obey Mrs. Dolman. Far from this; a sudden and
extreme naughtiness had taken possession of their unruly little
hearts. Even Iris' gentle words had no effect on them. They hated Aunt
Jane; considering her, in their heart of hearts, extremely cruel and
unworthy of affection. Had she not parted them at one blow from their
father, their home, their lovely garden, even from poor Fortune, who
was better than nobody, and, above all, from their darling, precious
pets? They had none of them been broken-hearted children when their
mother died, but they all, even Iris, felt broken-hearted now. But
this fact did not prevent their being extremely naughty and
rebellious, and when Diana felt Orion's hand clutching hers, she
whispered to him in an indignant voice:
"Come 'long, 'Rion, let's have a wun--my legs is so stiff; and, Orion,
I has got the box, and we can open it when we is away by our own two
selves."
"What are you talking about, little children?" questioned Mary Dolman.
"You mean to run away all by yourselves. But you must do nothing of
the sort. This is not the hour for running about in the open air.
There is supper ready for us all in the dining room, but I think mamma
would like you first to go upstairs and have your faces and hands
washed. If you will follow me, I'll show you where to go."
"Thank you, Mary," said Mrs. Dolman, who had overheard her daughter.
"Ann, my dear, what are you staring at me for? Go and help your
cousins. Now, you four children, follow Lucy and Ann to your rooms,
where my servant, Simpson, will attend upon you. Go, children, at
once. If there is any naughtiness, remember I shall have to punish you
severely."
"What do she mean by that?" said Diana, fixing her eyes on Mary's
face. "I never did like aunts. Is she your aunt?"
"No; she is my mother," said Mary, "and you must not speak in that
tone of mamma."
"I'll speak in any tone I p'ease," replied Diana. "Ise not going to be
fwightened. But what do she mean by punish? Who will she punish?"
"She will punish you," replied Mary. "Were you never punished?"
"Never. I don't know what it means. Is it nasty?"
"Oh, isn't it!" said Philip, who came up at that moment. "What a lark
it will be to see you punished, Diana. I wonder when your first time
will come? I expect rather soon. You had best obey mamma, I can tell
you, and papa too; if you don't, you'll just catch it hot."
"Boo!" replied Diana, "you is a silly boy." Then she turned to Mary.
"I is awfu' tired and s'eepy," she said. "I'd like to go stwaight to
bed."
"You must have supper first. Did you not hear mamma say so? Now, come
along with me."
Mary held out her hand, which Diana, after a momentary hesitation,
condescended to take.
Meanwhile, Ann had gone up to Iris.
"Would you not like me to show you your room, cousin?" she said; "and
please, I want to say how very glad I am that you have come."
A faint tinge of delicate color came into Iris' sweet little face at
these words--they were the first attempt at a real welcome she had
received. She held out her hand to Ann without a word, and the
Delaneys and Dolmans entered the cheerful Rectory in a body. The four
little strangers, accompanied by Mary and Ann, went upstairs, where
Simpson was waiting for them. Simpson was feeling very cross at the
arrival of four additional children, but when she saw Diana's tired
face, and the tears on Iris' pale cheeks, and the defiant, and yet
baby look in Orion's bright eyes, something came over her which she
could not quite account for, and she suddenly became kind and
agreeable.
"Come, my dears," she said; "why, you must all be dead tired, you poor
little mites. Come now--come in here. And what are your names?"
"I am Iris," replied the eldest little girl in a sweet voice.
"Iris!" repeated Simpson; "and what's your name, young master?"
"Apollo," answered the little boy, flinging back his dark head and
fixing his handsome eyes upon the woman.
"My word! that's a queer sort of name--outlandish, I call it!"
ejaculated Simpson. "And now, missy, I expect you are called Baby?"
"No, I aren't," replied Diana. "I is the gweat Diana; I has got a bow
and arrow, and I'll shoot you if you is not kind."
"Oh, lor'! Now, missy, you would not be so cruel as that?"
"Yes, I would," replied Diana. "See this box in my hand? It's an awfu'
pwecious box--it has got spiders in it and two beetles. May I put the
poor darlin's loose in my room?"
Now, if Simpson had a horror, it was of spiders and beetles.
"You keep that box shut, miss," she said, "for if you dare to open it
in your bedroom I'll just go straight down and tell my mistress."
"And then you'll get punished, Diana," said Mary, in her most annoying
voice.
"Is you a cousin?" asked Diana, by way of reply.
"Certainly I am." Mary opened her round eyes in some astonishment.
"Is you my cousin?"
"Yes; I am your first cousin."
"First cousin," repeated Diana. She flung off her hat and threw it on
the floor.
"Orion," she said, turning to her little brother, "you take good care
of our pwecious box. And what is you?" she continued, raising her eyes
to Simpson's face.
"Well, my dear, at the present moment I am the nurse, and ready to
wash you and look after you, and make you comfortable."
"Then I wishes to say something," remarked Diana. "I wishes to say it
bold, and I wishes to say it soon. I hate cousins, more 'specially
first, and I hate nurses. There, now, you can go downstairs, first
cousin, and tell aunt, and she can punish me. I don't care. You can
tell your mamma just what you p'ease."
Diana strutted across the room, deposited her box on the
washhand-stand, and then, turning round once again, began to view the
company. What might have happened at that moment there is no saying,
if Iris had not come to the rescue.
"Please don't mind her," she said; "she is only a very little child
and she has gone through great trouble, for our mother--our own
mother--she has left us, you know. Diana does not really mean to be
rude. Please let me talk to her. Di, darling, come to me, come to
Iris."
It was impossible to resist Iris when she spoke in that tone, and when
she looked at Diana with her speaking dark eyes, and that gentle,
beautiful expression on her little face, it seemed to Diana then as if
the hard journey, and the pain of all the partings had never taken
place at all. She rushed up to her sister, clasped her fat arms round
her neck, and began to sob.
"Poor little thing, she is dreadfully tired!" said Iris. "If I might
have a little bread and milk to give her, and then if she might be put
to bed, I know she would fall asleep immediately and be quite herself
in the morning."
"Indeed, miss, I think you are right," said Simpson, who could not
help gazing at Iris with admiration. "I see you are a very kind little
sister, and of course no one ought to mind the words of a mere baby.
I'll take it upon me, miss, to do what you suggest, even though my
missus may be angry. Oh, my word! there's the supper gong. You must go
down at once, Miss Iris, you really must. I cannot answer for two of
you being absent, but I will speak to Mrs. Dolman afterwards, and tell
her that I just put Miss Diana straight to bed, for she was much too
sleepy to go downstairs again."
"But I won't let you leave me, Iris," almost screamed Diana,
tightening her arms round her sister's neck.
"Please let me stay here," said Iris. "I do not really want any
supper, and I know how to manage her. She has gone through a great
deal."
"Well, miss, do you dare?"
"Oh, I dare anything! I am quite positive certain Aunt Jane won't mind
when I tell her my own self what I have done."
"I will tell mamma; she shan't mind," said little Ann suddenly.
Iris looked up at her and smiled--Ann smiled back at her. The hearts
of the two little cousins were knit together in real love from that
moment.
The gong sounded again downstairs, and this time in a distinctly angry
manner. The three Dolman girls and the two Delaney boys had to hurry
off as fast as they could, and then Iris undressed Diana and put her
into her snug little white bed.
"I is drefful unhappy, Iris," said Diana, as she laid her head on her
pillow.
"But you won't be in the morning, Diana. You'll feel brave and strong
and bright in the morning, just like the dear name mother gave you."
"Oh, p'ease, p'ease, will you see that the spiders and beetles has
somethin' to eat? They is so far from home, poor darlin's, and they
has come a drefful long journey, and they may be deaded in the morning
if nothing's not done for 'em. P'ease see to 'em; won't you, Iris?"
"Yes," replied Iris.
"Very well. Now, I'll say my pwayers and go stwaight off to s'eep.
P'ease, God, b'ess Di, make her good girl. Amen. Good-night, Iris."
The next moment the little girl had gone away into the world of happy
slumber and innocent dreams. She knew nothing whatever about what poor
Iris, to her dismay, soon discovered, namely, that Simpson had marched
off with the box which contained the spiders and beetles. That box,
with its contents, was never found again. It was the straw too much,
as Simpson expressed it afterwards.