“Now,” said Diana, going up to Mother Bridget, “I are vedy obliged to you; you has been kind; you has gived us good supper.  We’ll ’scuse ’bout the stwawberries and k’eam and the milk and cake, ’cos you didn’t know that the other big woman told lots of lies.  And now, p’ease, we are going home.  We isn’t glad to go home, but we is going.  P’ease tell the man to put pony to cart, and dwive us home as fast as he can.”

“Yes, indeed, my little dear,” said Mother Bridget; “there aint one moment to be lost.  You just come inside the tent, though, first for a minute.”

“I don’t want to go inside that dirty tent,” said Diana; “I don’t like dirt.  You had best not twy to take lib’ties.  I is Diana, and this is Orion, and we is both very big peoples indeed.”

At that moment Mother Rodesia came forward.

“They need not go into the tent,” she said to the old woman; “I can manage better than that.  Just you help lift ’em into the cart; it’s a dark night, and there’ll be no stars, and we can get off as far as——­” Here she dropped her voice, and Diana could not hear the next words.

“I’m going with them,” she continued, “and Jack will drive.  They are exactly the kind of children Ben wants.  Now then, little missy, jump in.  Ah, here you are!  You’ll be glad of the drive, won’t you?”

“When will we get back to Wectory?” asked Diana.

“In about an hour, missy.”

“Come ’long, Orion,” said Diana, “you sit next me.  Hold my hand, poor little boy, case you is fwightened.  Diana never was fwightened; that isn’t her.”

Orion scrambled also into the cart, and the two children huddled up close together.  Mother Rodesia got in with them, and sat down at the opposite side, with her knees huddled up close to her chin.  The man called Jack mounted the driver’s seat, whacked the pony with two or three hard touches of his whip and away they bounded.

The night was very dark, and the cart rattled roughly, and jolted and banged the children about, but Orion felt comforted and contented after his good supper, and Diana’s fat little arm felt warm round his neck, and soon his head rested on her shoulder and he was sound asleep.  Not so little Diana.  She sat wide awake and gazed hard at the woman, whose dark eyes were seen to flash now and then as the party jolted over the roads.

“Tell him to go k’icker,” said Diana.  “I must get home afore Uncle William goes to bed.  Aunt Jane might beat me again, and I don’t want to be beated.  Tell him to go k’icker, Mother ’Odesia.”

CHAPTER XVI.

UNCLE BEN.

Mother Rodesia was most kind and obliging.  The pony was whipped up, and now it seemed to Diana’s excited fancy that they quite flew over the road.  She felt for her broken bow, which she had laid by her side, then she cuddled up closer to Orion, and whispered to herself: