"I wish, Susan, you would not talk of mother as dead," answered Iris.
"I don't think of her like that a bit. She is in Heaven; she has gone
up the golden stairs, and she is quite well and ever so happy, and she
won't mind my wearing a white dress, more particular if I want to
comfort father. Please help me on with it and then brush out my hair."

Iris had lovely hair--it was of a deep, rich chestnut, and it curled
and curled, and waved and waved in rich profusion down her back. When
Susan had brushed it, and taken the tangles out, it shone like
burnished gold. Her pretty white frock was speedily put on, and she
ran out of her little room to join Apollo, who, in his black velvet
suit, looked very picturesque and handsome.

Not long afterwards the little pair, taking each other's hands, ran
down the broad, white marble stairs and entered the big dining room.
They looked almost lost in the distance when they first appeared, for
the table at which Mr. Delaney and Mrs. Dolman sat was far away in a
bay window at the other end of the stately apartment.

"Hullo, children! so there you are!" called their father's voice to
them. He had never been better pleased to see them in all his life,
and the note of welcome in his tones found an answering echo in Iris'
loving little heart.

They both tripped eagerly up the room and placed themselves one on
each side of him, while Iris slipped her hand into his.

"Well, my chicks, I am right glad to see you," he said.