“You may have it your way, Iris,” said Aunt Jane.  “I interfered once, and I believe I did wrong; now you shall have it your own way.”

“Thank you, Aunt Jane,” answered Iris.  She scarcely looked at her aunt; all her thoughts were centered on the mission which she had taken in hand.  When the carriage drew up at the humble door, the child ran straight into the house.

“Who may you be, little miss?” said Bessie Darling, who had never seen her before.

“I am the sister of Diana; I am a mother to the others,” said Iris.

“Sakes alive!” exclaimed the woman.  “You a mother?  Why, you poor little mite, you look as if you wanted a deal of mothering yourself.”

“Please tell me what room my sister is in,” said Iris, removing her hat as she spoke.

Bessie Darling stared at her for a moment, then she pointed to a door.  Iris turned the handle and entered the room.

It was a hot day, and the window was wide open; a green blind was down to keep out the glare of the sun; there was a quantity of ice in a great pail in one corner of the room, and, as Iris softly entered, Fortune was in the act of putting a fresh cold cloth on the sick child’s forehead.

Little Diana was murmuring her ceaseless refrain: 

    “You’ll never know fear,
    Any more, little dear. 
        Good-by.”

“Why, Diana!” said Iris.

Iris’s voice was quite fresh.  It had a different note in it from all the voices which for weeks had sounded in little Diana’s ears.  She was lying in a partial stupor, but now she opened her eyes very wide.

“Iris,” she said; “Iris.”  And a smile broke all over her face.

Iris ran up to the bedside.  She was always quiet in her manner; great excitement only accentuated her quiet.  She knelt down at once by the sick child, and took both her hot hands in hers.

“Darling,” she said, “I am your little mother, and I have come back to you.”

“That’s beautiful,” answered Diana.  She uttered a very deep sigh.  She had been tossing restlessly about, but now her hot hands lay quiet in Iris’.

As to Fortune, she was so amazed that she did not utter a word.

“Go to sleep, Di,” said Iris, in a voice of authority; “I am your little mother, and I wish you to go to sleep.”

“It’s awfu’ nice to be mothered again,” said Diana.  She opened her eyes languidly, fixed them on Iris, smiled once more, and then the thick lashes fell over the pale cheeks.  In about five minutes she was sound asleep.

Little Diana had often slept during the past fortnight, but during all that time she had had no sleep like this—­so quiet, so restful.  Iris, kneeling by her side, never moved.

“Let me give you a chair or you’ll faint, my love,” said Fortune, in a low whisper.

Iris shook her head.

Soon afterwards Fortune softly left the room, and then there fell a deep and solemn silence over the little house.