"Iris is the name of the eldest girl," said Ann. "Then comes Apollo--he is a boy."
"I'll never be able to get hold of that name," said Philip. "Apollo! how queer."
"But it is not queer, really," said Ann, delighted at having roused his real interest at last. "Of course, Apollo is very well known indeed. He was a sort of beautiful god long ago."
"But this boy is not a god--horrid little beggar," said Philip. "Well, what are the names of the others?"
"Diana," repeated Philip. "There's nothing in that name. That name is in the Bible. Miss Ramsay read the whole story aloud to us last Sunday when the beastly rain kept dropping and dropping all day long. 'Great is Diana of the Ephesians.' I rather like the sound, but there's nothing at all in a name of that sort, Ann."
"Well, I didn't say there was," answered Ann. "I only think it awfully pretty."
"I don't think much of it for an ordinary girl. Well, now, what is the other name? I'll call Conrad back, if you are not quick."
"I'll tell it to you. Look here, Phil, I bet you never heard a name like it."
"You bet?" said Philip. "Oh, if mamma only heard you!"
"For goodness' sake, don't tell her," said Ann. "I can't help letting out sometimes, and it does relieve me so. The name of the other boy is Orion, and he is called after a cluster of stars. I do know that much. And oh, Phil! Phil! Phil! they are coming! they are coming!"
The crunching of wheels was heard distinctly on the gravel, and the next moment the wagonette swept into view. The horses drew up with a nourish at the front door of the pretty Rectory, and the five little Dolmans rushed forward.
"Stand back, children, and allow your cousins to get comfortably out of the carriage," called out Mrs. Dolman. "No excitement, I beg, from any of you--I have had quite enough of that already. Stand quietly just where you are. Lucy, where is Miss Ramsay?"
"Up in her room, I think, mamma. Shall I call her?"
"Not at present, although she ought to have been here. Now, Iris, get out quietly--quietly, my dear. Apollo, give me your hand, you come next; now, Diana--easy, little girl, easy--you will fall, if you jump like that."
"I think nothing of a little easy hop like that, aunt," replied Diana. She sprang from the carriage, disdaining the use of the steps. When she found herself on the gravel sweep she stood very firmly on her two fat legs and looked her five cousins all over.