"Yes," answered Apollo.

He ran off, returning with a bunch in a moment or two.

"Take them into the dead-house," said Iris, "and sew them up and put
the poor innocent inside, and then take your spade and dig a hole in
the cemetery. We can't have a public funeral. I--I don't feel up to
it," she added, her lips trembling for the first time.

Diana nestled close up to Iris.

"You need not look sad, Iris," she said; "there's no cause, is there?
I don't believe that story 'bout mother, and if it is not true
there'll be nothing wrong in my laughing, will there?"

"You may laugh if you like, darling," answered Iris.

They all entered the arbor now, and Iris seated herself in the little
chair which mother had seen father make, and round which the beautiful
flowers of the iris had been carved.

"Laugh, Di," she said again; "I know mother won't mind."

For a full moment Diana stood silent, staring at her sister; then her
big black eyes, which had been full of the deepest gloom, brightened.
A butterfly passed the entrance to the summer-house, and Diana flew
after it, chasing it with a loud shout and a gay, hearty fit of
laughter.

Apollo came back with the stray cat, whose name was "Trust," in his