“Well, you poor little children, then.  Now, young master, if you’ll take my advice, you’ll do exactly what I tell you.  I’m going to be a friend to you and to your little sister.  I’ll give you, by hook or by crook, the very best food I can get, and the prettiest dresses to wear, and I’ll see that my husband, Ben Holt, aint rough to you, and I’ll see, also, that Molly and Kitty and Susan, the circus girls, are kind to you, and that Tom, the clown, behaves as he ought; but I can do nothing if you won’t obey me.  And if you begin by angering Uncle Ben, why, it’ll be all up with you, my little dears.”

“I don’t know what you mean by all up,” answered Diana, her eyes sparkling brightly; “and what’s more, I don’t care.  But I’d like to know if you has a weal live clown about, ’cos I like clowns and I love pant’mimes.  I went to a pant’mime ’fore mother was took to the angels.”

“Our show is something like a pantomime, and yet it’s different,” replied Aunt Sarah.  “Now then, missy, stop talking, for we has no time to waste.  Come over here and let me put this nice stuff on your face.  It won’t hurt you one little bit—­it’s just to make you look a little browner than you do now, you and little master.  Now, come along here, and let me do it at once.  Afterwards, I’ll dress you in real pretty things.  You, little missy, shall wear some of my own child’s clothes—­the little Rachel what died.  My heart broke when she died, missy, and if I didn’t mean to be real kind to you I wouldn’t put her pretty little dress on you, that I wouldn’t.”

Orion stepped back in some alarm when he saw the woman stirring something very brown and ugly in a tin can.

“I don’t want that horrid stuff on my face,” he said.

“But you must have it, master; if you don’t, Uncle Ben will use you dreadful,” said the woman.  “Now, missy, tell your little brother to be guided by me.  If he don’t do what I tell ’im he’ll suffer, and I won’t be able to help either of you.”

“Don’t be silly, Orion,” said Diana.  “What do a little bwown stuff matter?  And Aunt Sawah’s wather a nice sort of woman.  I’ll do what you wish, Aunt Sawah.”  She came up as she spoke, pushed her black, tangled hair away from her charming little face, and allowed Aunt Sarah to cover it with the walnut juice.  “It’s sort of sticky, and it don’t smell nice,” said the little girl; “but I spects you can’t help it.  I spects you is kind about your heart; isn’t you?”

“Yes, my little dear; I try to be,” said the woman.  “Now, call your brother over, and let me dye his face and neck and little hands.”

“Come ’long, Orion,” said Diana; “don’t be silly.”

“You do look so ugly, Diana,” answered Orion.

“Well, what do it matter?” said Diana.  “I has to p’ease Aunt Sawah; she’s a nice sort of a woman.  I wather like her.”

Orion, who had always submitted to Diana, submitted again now as a matter of course.  The walnut dye was not pleasant; he felt quite sticky and uncomfortable, but he allowed it to cover his little face and his white neck and hands.