As time went by, Iris grew whiter and whiter.  Often she wandered away by herself, and flinging herself on the ground, would moan out her distress.

“Mother, mother,” she used to sob, “I have not done what you told me; I have not been a little mother.  Can you ever forgive me?  Oh, if Diana dies, I am certain that I shall never forgive myself.”

At last, when a fortnight had passed by, Iris had a dream.  She never told her dream to anyone, but she got up that morning with a very determined expression on her small face.  After breakfast she went straight downstairs to the library, and spoke to Uncle William.

“Uncle William,” she said, “I want to say that I am going to see Diana.”

“My dear,” said Uncle William, who was furtively at that moment wiping a tear from his eye, “I greatly fear that you cannot do so; we have had bad news of little Diana this morning.  I greatly fear, Iris, that she will not be long with us; her strength is going, and there is little chance of the fever abating.  The doctor has but a small hope of her recovery—­in fact, I may almost say that he has no hope.”

“It is a fortnight since Diana was found, and you have never let me see her yet,” continued Iris; “but I am going to her to-day.  I had a dream last night,” she continued, “and in my dream I—­But I’m not going to say anything more, only I must see Diana to-day.”

“I am afraid you cannot do so, Iris,” replied Uncle William.

“And why not, if the child has the wish?” remarked Aunt Jane suddenly.

Until that moment Iris had no idea that Aunt Jane was in the room.  She started now when she heard her voice; but reading the expression on her face, she ran up to her eagerly.

“If you are for it, Aunt Jane, it will be all right,” she cried.  “Please have a carriage ordered this minute and let me go.”

“I would not, if I were you, wife,” said Uncle William.  “You see how delicate Iris is already, and the sight of her little sister would shock her dreadfully.”

“She may just as well go,” said Aunt Jane.  “In my opinion, it would be wrong to leave any stone unturned, and Iris always had a remarkable influence over the other children.  Besides, my dear William, when David comes back, I should not like Iris to have to tell him that I refused what, after all, is a very natural request.”

“Aunt Jane, I love you for those words,” said Iris.

Aunt Jane’s face quite flushed when Iris said she loved her.  She went across the room and rang the bell.

“Desire the pony carriage to be sent round directly,” was her order to the servant when he appeared.

Accordingly, in less than half an hour, Iris and Aunt Jane were driving into Madersley.  They went straight to the humble house where the Darlings lived.  The greater part of the house was given up to little Diana and her nurse.

“Please, Aunt Jane,” said Iris, as they approached the door; “may I go into Diana’s room by myself?  I don’t want anyone to be with me when I see her.”