DIANA'S REVENGE.

Diana had quite a nice time for the rest of the morning. Uncle William had not the least idea of sending her back to the schoolroom.

"It's very hot," he said, "and I feel sleepy. I dare say you do also."

"I do awfu'," answered Diana. "You isn't a bad old man, not at all,"

she continued. Here she raised her fat hand and stroked his flabby cheek. "You hates writing sermons, don't you?"

"Diana," he answered, "I would rather you did not speak about it."

"Oh, I can keep secrets," replied Diana.

"Well, in that case, to be quite frank with you, I do not care for writing sermons."

"And I don't care for learning lessons. You didn't mean to sting me so bad with that howid wod, did you, Uncle William?"

Mr. Dolman made no reply with his lips, for he did not like to defy his wife's authority, but Diana read his thoughts in his rather dull blue eyes.

"You is a kind old man," she said; "that is, when you isn't tempted by that naughty, howid woman. You is a kind old man by yourself, and you shan't be shotted."

"What do you mean by being shotted, Diana?"

But here Diana pursed up her rosy lips and looked rather solemn.

"That's a secret," she answered. "Uncle William, may I have a whole holiday to-day?"

"I think so, my dear little girl. I really think that can be managed.

It is too hot to work--at least, I find it so."

"Then course I does also," answered Diana, clapping her hands. "Shall we go out into the garding--what you say?"

"Would you like to?" he asked.

"Yes, more particular in fruit garding. We can eat cherries and strawberries, and pelt each other. What you say?"

Mr. Dolman looked out of the open window. He was pretty certain that his wife by this time was absent in the village. The clock on the mantelpiece pointed to half-past eleven; the early dinner would not be ready until one o'clock. It would be cool and pleasant in the fruit garden, and it would please poor little Diana, who, in his opinion, had been very harshly treated.

"All right," he answered, "but, you know, your aunt is not to be told."

He rose from his chair as he spoke, and, stretching out his long hand, allowed Diana to curl her fingers round one of his.

"I should wather think Aunt Jane isn't to know," replied Diana, beginning to skip in her rapture. "I don't like aunts; I always said so. I like uncles; they isn't half bad. You isn't bad, for an old man.

You is awfu' old, isn't you?"

"Not so very old, Diana. I'm not forty yet."

"Forty! What a ter'ble age!" said Diana. "You must 'member all the kings and queens of England; don't you, Uncle William?"

"Not quite all, Diana. Now, I'll just take you through the garden, for I think a little fresh air will do you good."

"And if I pop cherries into your mouf it 'll do you good," answered Diana. "Oh, we'll have a lovely time!"

So they did, and Mr. Dolman devoutly hoped that there was no one there to see. For Diana rapidly recovered her spirits, and picked cherries in quant.i.ties and pelted her uncle; and then she ran races and incited him to follow her, and she picked strawberries, heaps and heaps, and got him to sit down on a little bench near the strawberry beds, and popped the delicious ripe berries into his mouth; and although he had never played before in such a fashion with any little girl, he quite enjoyed it, and presently entered the house with his lips suspiciously red, and a confession deep down in his heart that he had spent quite a pleasant morning.

At dinner-time Diana and her uncle walked into the room, side by side.

"Well, William," said Mrs. Dolman, "I hope you have finished your sermon."

"Not quite, my dear," he answered.

"Not kite, my dear," echoed Diana.

Mr. Dolman gave her a half-terrified glance, but she was stanch enough, and had not the least idea of betraying the happy morning they had spent together.

Towards the end of the meal, her clear little voice might have been heard calling to her uncle.

"Uncle William, you wishes me to have a whole holiday; doesn't you?

You pwomised I is to have a whole holiday to-day."

Now, Mrs. Dolman had felt very uncomfortable about Diana during her hot walk to the village that morning. She had not at all minded punishing her, but when she saw her lying white and unconscious in her arms, she had certainly gone through a terrible moment, and had, perhaps, in the whole course of her life, never felt so thankful as when the black eyes opened wide, and the little voice sounded once again. The look, too, that Diana had given her on this occasion she could not quite efface from her recollection. On the whole, therefore, she felt inclined to be gentle to the little girl, and when she pleaded for a holiday Mrs. Dolman did not say a word to interfere.

"It is a very hot day, and Diana was not quite well this morning,"

said Mr. Dolman, glancing first at his wife and then at Miss Ramsay, "so, all things considered, perhaps--"

"Thank you, uncle," interrupted Diana, "it's kite settled, and you isn't half a bad sort of old man. And now, p'ease, I want Orion to have a holiday too."

"Oh, that's another matter!" interrupted Miss Ramsay. "Orion is in perfect health to-day, and as he is extremely backward for his age--"

"But the heat of the day, and the child being so young," put in Mr.

Dolman.

"I'd be much happier if I had Orion with me," continued Diana, "and it's 'portant my being happy; isn't it, Uncle William? P'ease, Uncle William, say that Orion may have a holiday."

"I will give leave if your aunt and Miss Ramsay will," he replied.

"Oh, don't ask me!" said Mrs. Dolman, rising hastily as she spoke. "I wash my hands of the pair."

"She washes her hands of the pair, so she don't count," said Diana.

"Is we to have a holiday, Uncle William? I is, but is Orion, too?

That's the 'portant part," she added.

"I have no objection," said Miss Ramsay, who thought it best to close this scene as quickly as possible.

Orion uttered a shout of rapture, Diana rushed up to him, clutched him round the neck, and pulled him from the room.

Nearly wild with glee, they both ran helter-skelter out of the house, into the cool shrubbery beyond.