"All right," he answered, "but, you know, your aunt is not to be
told."

He rose from his chair as he spoke, and, stretching out his long hand,
allowed Diana to curl her fingers round one of his.

"I should wather think Aunt Jane isn't to know," replied Diana,
beginning to skip in her rapture. "I don't like aunts; I always said
so. I like uncles; they isn't half bad. You isn't bad, for an old man.
You is awfu' old, isn't you?"

"Not so very old, Diana. I'm not forty yet."

"Forty! What a ter'ble age!" said Diana. "You must 'member all the
kings and queens of England; don't you, Uncle William?"

"Not quite all, Diana. Now, I'll just take you through the garden, for
I think a little fresh air will do you good."

"And if I pop cherries into your mouf it 'll do you good," answered
Diana. "Oh, we'll have a lovely time!"

So they did, and Mr. Dolman devoutly hoped that there was no one there
to see. For Diana rapidly recovered her spirits, and picked cherries
in quantities and pelted her uncle; and then she ran races and incited
him to follow her, and she picked strawberries, heaps and heaps, and
got him to sit down on a little bench near the strawberry beds, and
popped the delicious ripe berries into his mouth; and although he had
never played before in such a fashion with any little girl, he quite
enjoyed it, and presently entered the house with his lips suspiciously
red, and a confession deep down in his heart that he had spent quite a
pleasant morning.

At dinner-time Diana and her uncle walked into the room, side by side.

"Well, William," said Mrs. Dolman, "I hope you have finished your
sermon."

"Not quite, my dear," he answered.

"Not kite, my dear," echoed Diana.

Mr. Dolman gave her a half-terrified glance, but she was stanch
enough, and had not the least idea of betraying the happy morning they
had spent together.

Towards the end of the meal, her clear little voice might have been
heard calling to her uncle.

"Uncle William, you wishes me to have a whole holiday; doesn't you?
You pwomised I is to have a whole holiday to-day."

Now, Mrs. Dolman had felt very uncomfortable about Diana during her
hot walk to the village that morning. She had not at all minded
punishing her, but when she saw her lying white and unconscious in her
arms, she had certainly gone through a terrible moment, and had,
perhaps, in the whole course of her life, never felt so thankful as
when the black eyes opened wide, and