“Come, children; what’s all this noise about?” said a voice in their ears.

They turned abruptly, forgetting on the instant their own cause of quarrel, and saw a tall, swarthy-looking woman coming towards them.  By this time it was beginning to get dark in the wood, but they could see the figure of the woman quite distinctly.  She came close to them, and then, putting her arms akimbo, surveyed them both with a certain queer expression on her face.

“Well, my little dears,” she said, “and what may you two be doing in this part of the wood?”

“We is pweparing to have our enemies shotted,” answered Diana, in a calm, but sturdy, voice.  “What’s your name, gweat big woman?”

“Mother Rodesia Lee,” replied the woman, “and I’m fond of little children.  I like to meet them in the wood.  I often come into the wood, and when I see little strange children I love ’em at once.  I’m a sort of mother to all little strangers who get into the woods without leave.”  Here she flashed a pair of black eyes full into Diana’s face.  But Diana met their gaze without a vestige of shrinking, with eyes as black.

“We has not come without leave,” she said; “you is naughty to talk that way.  We has got a whole holiday to-day from our Uncle William.  He didn’t say nothing ’bout not going into the woods, and we has been here for lots of hours.  We is going home now ’cos we is hung’y, and ‘cos my bow has got bwoke.  We is awfu’ unhappy—­we is mis’ble, but we is going home.  Good-night, woman; don’t keep us talkin’ any longer.”

“I aint going to keep you,” said the woman; “only, p’r’aps, if you two are so hungry, p’r’aps I could give you a bit of supper.”

“Oh, yes, Diana!  Do let her,” said Orion.

“What sort of supper?” asked Diana, who never allowed herself to be taken unawares.  “Would it be stwawberries and k’eam, or would it be cake and milk?”

“Strawberries and cream, and milk and cake, plenty and plenty,” said the woman.  “And what do you say to delicious soup and honey, p’r’aps?  Oh, come along, my little loves; I’ll give you something fine to eat.”

“Do let’s go,” said Orion; “my tumtum’s so empty it feels like a big hole.”

“I know,” said the woman, in a very sympathetic voice.  “I have had it myself like that at times.  It’s sort of painful when it’s like that; aint it?”

“Yes,” answered Orion.  He went up to his sister, and took her hand.  “Come along, Di,” he said.  “Do let this nice woman give us our supper.”

“You may be sure I won’t give it,” said the woman, “unless both you little children ask me in a very perlite voice.  You must say, ’Please, Mother Rodesia.’”

“I can’t say that keer sort of name,” said Diana.

“Well, then, call me mother without anything else.  They often does that at home—­often and often.  All the little kids is desp’ate fond of me.  I dote so on little children.  My heart runs over with love to ’em.”