“You would not let a little girl be beated?” said Diana.

“Be beaten?” replied the woman.  “No, that I wouldn’t; it would be downright cruel.”

“I was beated to-day,” said Diana; “it was an enemy did it, and I’m going to have her shotted.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that!” said the woman.  “You might be hanged up for that.”

“What’s being hanged up?” asked Diana.

“It’s something very bad—­I need not tell you now; but there are laws in this country, and if you shoot your enemies you are hanged up for it.  You are not allowed to do those sort of things in this country.”

“Yes, I are,” answered Diana, “’cos I are the gweat Diana.  You underland, don’t you?”

“I don’t know that I do; but, anyhow, I have no time to stand talking now.  Come along, and you can tell me afterwards.  I have got such a nice supper—­plenty of strawberries and cream, plenty of milk and cake.”

“Oh, my tumtum,” said Orion, pressing his hand to that part of his little body with great solemnity.

“How soon will the supper be over? and how soon can we get back home?” asked Diana.

“That depends on where your home is, my pretty little dear,” said Mother Rodesia.

“It’s at Wectory, stoopid woman.”

“I don’t know that place, miss.”

“Don’t you know my Uncle William Dolman?”

“What! the rector?” said the woman.  “And so you come from the Rectory?” She looked frightened for a moment, and her manner became hesitating.  “Are you one of the rector’s children, my little love?” she asked.

“No; he’s only an uncle; he belongs to an aunt.  I hate aunts.  He’s not a bad sort his own self; but I hate aunts!”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if you was to leave her?”

“No.  But I can’t leave Uncle William, and I can’t leave Iris, and I can’t leave Apollo.  We would like some supper ’cos we is hung’y, and it’s past our tea hour; but then we must go stwaight home.”

“All right, my little love; everything can be managed to your satisfaction.  My son has got a pony and cart, and he’ll drive you over to the Rectory in a twinkling, after your appetites are satisfied.  I can’t abear to see little children real hungry.  You come along with me this minute or the supper will be eat up.”

Diana hesitated no longer.  She carried her broken bow on one arm, and she slung her arrow, by a string, round her neck; then, taking one of Mother Rodesia’s large brown hands, and Orion taking the other, the two children trotted deeper into the dark wood.  They all three walked for over a mile, and the wood seemed to get darker and denser, and the children’s little feet more and more tired.  Orion also began to complain that the hole inside him was getting bigger and bigger; but Mother Rodesia, now that she had got them to go with her, said very few words, and did not take the least notice of their complaints.  At last, when they suddenly felt that they could not