Mrs. Dolman left the room as she spoke, and Iris found herself alone with her sister.
"You isn't much of a mother," repeated Diana. She went over to the window, and stood with her back to Iris. Her little bosom was heaving up and down; she felt very forlorn, but still she hugged her misery to her as a cloak.
Iris gazed at her in perplexity.
"Di," she said, "I never saw you like this before. What are you turning away from me for? Come to me, Di; do come to me."
Diana's little breast heaved more than ever, tears came into her eyes, but she blinked them furiously away.
"You can come to me, if you want; I shan't come to you. You isn't much of a mother," she repeated.
"But I did not know you were in trouble, darling. Do, do come to your own Iris. Do tell me what is the matter."
"Oh, Iris!" sobbed Diana.
The first kind note utterly melted her little heart; she rushed to her sister, flung herself upon her, and sobbed as if she would never stop crying.
"We can't stay in this howid place, Iris," she said; "all my darlin's has gone and got deaded. That howid old woman upstairs said they was wermin. She has killed 'em all. I can't stay here; I won't stay here. Take me back to the beautiful garden. Do, Iris; do. I'se just so mis'ble."