Little Diana, in her deep sleep, was not at all disturbed when stout hands lifted her away from Orion, and when she lay stretched out flat on a large lap.  One by one her clothes were untied and slipped off her pretty little body, and some very ugly, sack-like garments substituted in their place.  Diana had only a dim feeling in her dreams that mother was back again, and was undressing her, and that she was very glad to get into bed.  And when the same process of undressing took place on little Orion, he was still sounder asleep and still more indifferent to the fact that he was turned sometimes over on his face, and sometimes on his back, and that his pretty, dainty clothes, which his own mother had bought for him, were removed, never to be worn by him again.

“Now, then,” said Mother Rodesia, when she had laid the two children back again upon the straw, “when they awake, and if Ben is not there, we must dye their faces with walnut juice; but we can’t begin that now, for they are sure to howl a good bit, and if folks are near, they will hear them and come to the rescue.  Jack, have you got that spade ’andy?”

The man, without a word, lifted a portion of the straw in the cart, and took out a spade.

“That’s right,” said the woman.  “You make a deep hole under that tree, and put all the clothes in.  Bury ’em well.  I’ll rescue ’em and pawn ’em myself when we go to the West of England in the winter, but for the present they must stay under ground.  See, I’ll wrap ’em up in this good piece of stout brown paper, and then perhaps they won’t get much spoiled.”

Jack took the little bundle (there were the soft, pretty socks, the neat little shoes, even the ribbon with which Diana’s hair was tied), and twisted them all up into a bundle.  Then his mother wrapped the bundle in the piece of brown paper, and gave it to him to bury.

This being done the pony was once more whipped up, and the cart proceeded at a rapid rate.  They were now on the highroad, and going in the direction of a large town.  The town was called Maplehurst.  It was fifteen miles away from the Rectory of Super-Ashton.

Little Diana slept on and on, and the sun was beginning to send faint rays of light into the eastern sky, when at last she opened her eyes.

“Where is I?” she said with a gasp.

“With me, my little dear; you are as safe as child can be,” said Mother Rodesia.  “Don’t you stir, my love; you are just as good as you was in your little bed.  See, let me lay this rug over you.”

She threw a piece of heavy tarpaulin, lined with cloth, over the child as she spoke.

Diana yawned in a comfortable manner.

“Isn’t we at Wectory yet?” she asked.

“No, dear; the pony went lame, and we had to stop for a good bit on the road; but if you like to go to sleep again, you’ll be there when next you wake.”

“I isn’t s’eepy any longer,” said Diana, sitting bolt upright in the cart.  “Oh, what a funny dwess I has on.  Where is my nice b’ack dwess, and my pinafore, and my shoes and socks?”