A Little Mother to the Others Part 7

"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 paris.h.i.+oners. 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, Peter tells me. I doubt if my master is pleased to see her. She will most likely go away in a day or two, so don't you fret, Miss Iris, love. Now, come along, Master Orion, and let me undress you. It is very late, and you ought to be in your little bed."

"I'm Orion," said the little boy, "and I'm stone blind." He began to strut up and down the nursery with his eyes tightly shut.

"Apollo, please, may I get on your shoulder for a bit, and will you lead me to that place where the first sunbeam rises in the east over the sea?"

"Come," said Fortune, in what Diana would call a "temperish" tone, "we can have no more of that ridiculous story-telling to-night. Miss Iris, you'll ask them to be good, won't you?"

"Yes. Children, do be good," said Iris, in her earnest voice.

Diana trotted up to her sister and took her hand.

"I has something most 'portant to tell you," she said, in a low whisper. "It's an awfu' sorrow, but you ought to know."

"What is it, Di?"

"Rub-a-Dub has got deaded."

"Rub-a-Dub?"

"Yes; it is quite true. I found him stark dead and stiff. I has put him in the dead-house."

Iris said nothing.

"And he is to have a public funeral, isn't he?" said Diana, "and a beautiful insipcron. Do say he is, and let us have the funeral to-morrow."

"I am awfully sorry," said Iris, then; "I did love Rub-a-Dub. Yes, Di; I'll think it over. We can meet after breakfast in the dead-house and settle what to do."

"There are to be a lot of funerals to-morrow--I'm so glad," said Diana, with a chuckle.

She followed Orion into the night-nursery. He was still walking with his eyes tightly shut and went bang up against his bath, a good portion of which he spilt on the floor. This put both Fortune and the under-nurse, Susan, into a temper, and they shook him and made him cry, whereupon Diana cried in concert, and poor Iris felt a great weight resting on her heart.

"It is awfully difficult to be a mother to them all," she thought.

"The usual kind of things don't seem to please them. Apollo, what is the matter? What are you thinking of?"

"I'm only wis.h.i.+ng that I might be the real Apollo," said the boy, "and that I might get quite far away from here. Things are different here now that mother has gone, Iris. I don't like Aunt Jane Dolman a bit."

"Oh, well, she is our aunt, so I suppose it is wrong not to like her,"

answered Iris.

"I can't help it," replied Apollo. "I have a feeling that she means to make mischief. Why did she come here without being asked? Iris, shall we go down to dessert to-night, or not?"

"I would much rather not," answered Iris.

"But father likes us to go. It is the only time in the day when he really sees us. I think, perhaps, we ought to get dressed and be ready to go down."

"I will if you think so, Apollo; but I am very tired and sleepy."

"Well, I really do. We must not s.h.i.+rk things if we are to be a bit what mother wants us to be; and now that Aunt Jane has come, poor father may want us worse than ever."

"I never thought of that," replied Iris. "I'll run and get dressed at once, Apollo."

She flew away into a tiny little room of her own, which opened into the night-nursery.

"Susan," she called out, "will you please help me to put on my after-dinner frock?"

"You have only a white dress to wear this evening, miss; your new black one has not come home yet."

"A white one will be all right," replied Iris.

"Oh, dear me, miss! and your poor mother only a week dead."

"I wish, Susan, you would not talk of mother as dead," answered Iris.

"I don't think of her like that a bit. She is in Heaven; she has gone up the golden stairs, and she is quite well and ever so happy, and she won't mind my wearing a white dress, more particular if I want to comfort father. Please help me on with it and then brush out my hair."

Iris had lovely hair--it was of a deep, rich chestnut, and it curled and curled, and waved and waved in rich profusion down her back. When Susan had brushed it, and taken the tangles out, it shone like burnished gold. Her pretty white frock was speedily put on, and she ran out of her little room to join Apollo, who, in his black velvet suit, looked very picturesque and handsome.

Not long afterwards the little pair, taking each other's hands, ran down the broad, white marble stairs and entered the big dining room.

They looked almost lost in the distance when they first appeared, for the table at which Mr. Delaney and Mrs. Dolman sat was far away in a bay window at the other end of the stately apartment.

"Hullo, children! so there you are!" called their father's voice to them. He had never been better pleased to see them in all his life, and the note of welcome in his tones found an answering echo in Iris'

loving little heart.

They both tripped eagerly up the room and placed themselves one on each side of him, while Iris slipped her hand into his.

"Well, my chicks, I am right glad to see you," he said.

"Perhaps, David, you will remember how disgracefully late it is," said Mrs. Dolman. "Children, I must frankly say that I am _not_ pleased to see you. What are you doing up at this hour?"