"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 parishioners. 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."