Before Rachel had finished the chapter she had made up her mind to ask Mr. Sheston about Diana of the Ephesians. She liked the name very much, and it certainly sounded as though something interesting—perhaps _exciting_ might be connected with it. Suppose it should even lead to an “adventure”? She scarcely dared to hope for this, but all the same there _was_ a little hope at the back of her mind. Anyhow, there was something, though of a different nature, to look forward to this very afternoon, for a little girl was coming to tea. “She’s the daughter of an artist I happened to meet the other day,” Aunt Hester had explained at breakfast time. “He turned out to be a friend of your father’s, and, when he heard you were here, he said he would like his little girl to meet you, so I invited her to come to-day.” “What is her name?” had been Rachel’s first question. “I don’t know. I forgot to ask. But she’s about your age. She’s coming early, so you needn’t do any lessons this afternoon.” This in itself was good news, and by three o’clock Rachel was looking out of the window for the expected visitor. But after all, when the bell rang she was too late to see who was admitted, because for the third or fourth time, she had moved across the room to the mantelpiece, to look at the watch which lay there. Aunt Hester opened the door. “Here is Diana,” she said. “I shall leave you together to amuse yourselves till tea time.” “Oh, is your name really _Diana_?” exclaimed Rachel, forgetting to shake hands. “How funny!” “Why is it funny?” enquired the little girl, not unnaturally, while Rachel swiftly looked her up and down. She scarcely knew whether to think her very pretty, or only curious-looking. She had a mop of red hair, big eyes, more green than blue, and a little pointed face which reminded Rachel of the faces of certain elves in an illustrated fairy-tale book she possessed. Certainly she was rather like an elf altogether, light and slender, with quick darting movements. “Why is it funny?” she repeated. And, when she laughed, Rachel was quite sure she was pretty, as well as curious. “Only because I was reading about Diana in the Bible this morning—and I liked the name.” “It’s the name of a goddess,” her visitor announced rather importantly. “I know. ‘Diana of the Ephesians.’” The little girl looked puzzled. “I don’t know anything about the—what did you say? Ephe—something? I was called _Diana_ because my father was painting a picture of her when I was born.” “What was it like?”