"Oh, there you are, Iris!" said Orion. "Oh, Iris! I am so glad. Please be a mother to me--please put your arms round me--please kiss me, Iris."

Iris flew to the little fellow, clasped him in her arms, and held his hot little forehead against her cheek.

"Simpson," she said, turning to the nurse, "I know quite well how to manage him. Won't you let me do it?"

"I am sure, Miss Iris, I'd be only too thankful," said the perplexed woman. "There's Miss Ramsay and my mistress in no end of a state, and Master Orion as obstinate as a boy can be. There's something gone wrong in this house since you four children arrived, and I really don't know how I am to stand it much longer. Not that I have any special fault to find with you, Miss Iris, nor, indeed, for that matter, with Master Apollo; but it's the two younger ones. They are handfuls, and no mistake."

"I like being a handfu' 'cept when I'm sick," said Orion. "I don't want to be a handfu' to-day. Please, Iris, don't mek me take that horrid medicine."

"He must take it, Miss Iris; he won't be better till he do," said the nurse, lifting up the gla.s.s as she spoke and stirring the contents with a spoon. "Come, now, sir, be a brave boy. Just open your mouth and get it down. Then you'll drop asleep, and when you wake you will probably be quite well."

Orion pressed his lips very tightly together.

"You'll take the medicine for me, Orion?" said Iris.

"No, I can't," he moaned.

"Oh, but, darling! just try and think. Remember you are a giant--a grand, great giant, with your girdle and your sword, and this medicine is just an enemy that you have got to conquer. Here now; open your mouth and get it down. Think of mother, Orion. She would like you to take it."

Orion still kept his mouth very firmly shut, but he opened his sweet, dark eyes and looked full at his sister.

"Would mother really like it?" he said at last, in a whisper.

"Of course; it would make her ever so happy."

"And will she know about it, Iris?"

"I think she will. Maybe she is in the room with us just now."

"Oh, lor'! what awful talk to say to the child," murmured Simpson to herself.

"If I really thought mother could see, and if I really thought--"

began the little boy.

"Yes, yes, she can see!" said Iris, going on her knees and clasping both the little fellow's hands in one of hers. "She can see, she does know, and she wants her own brave giant to be a giant to the end. Now, here is the enemy; open your mouth, conquer it at one gulp."

"Well, to be sure," whispered Simpson.

Orion, however, did not glance at Simpson. He gazed solemnly round the room as if he really saw someone; then he fixed his brown eyes on his sister's face, then he opened his mouth very wide. She instantly took the cup and held it to the little lips. Orion drained off the nauseous draught and lay back, panting, on his pillow.

"It was a big thing to conquer. I am a fine giant," he said, when he returned the empty cup to Iris.

"Yes, you are a splendid old chap," she replied.

At that moment Mrs. Dolman and Miss Ramsay entered the room.

"Has Orion taken his medicine?" said Mrs. Dolman. "Iris, my dear, what are you doing here?"

"I am very sorry, Aunt Jane," replied Iris, "but I had to come. He would never have taken his medicine but for me. I had to remind him--"

"To remind him of his duty. He certainly wanted to be reminded. So he has taken the medicine. I am glad of that; but all the same, Iris, you did very wrong to leave the schoolroom."

"Please forgive me this one time, Aunt Jane."

"I really think Iris does try to be a good child," interrupted Miss Ramsay.

"And she certainly can manage her little brother, ma'am," said Simpson, speaking for the first time. "He would not touch his medicine for me--no, not for anything I could do; but he drank it off when Miss Iris talked some gibberish, all about giants and belts and swords."

"'Tisn't gibberish," said Orion, starting up from his pillow; "it's the truest thing in all the world. I am a giant, and I has got a belt and a sword. You can look up in the sky on starful nights and you can see me. 'Tisn't gibberish."

"Well, lie down now, child, and go to sleep. I am afraid he is a bit feverish, ma'am."

"No, that I aren't," said Orion. "Only I'm drefful sick," he added.

"Listen to me, Orion," said Mrs. Dolman, seating herself on the edge of the bed and gazing very sternly 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.

"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."