Her face clouded as she looked at the children.
"Crying again! Oh missie," she said reproachfully, "that's not good of
you. You'll cry yourself ill, and then----" Diana in turn looked round
and lowered her voice, "have you forgotten the secret I told you? You'll
never get away where you'd like to be if you make yourself ill. And
scarce a bite of dinner have you touched," she went on, looking at the
bits of meat reposing beside the overturned plate.
Pamela lifted up her tear-swollen face and drew herself out of Duke's
arms, to fling herself into Diana's.
"If us is going to die, it's no good eating," she said.
"Who said you was a-going to die?" exclaimed the gipsy girl.
"Duke and I was talking, and us thought p'raps heaven was the nice place
you said us'd go to if us was good," replied Pamela.
Diana gave a little laugh, half sad and half bitter.
"It isn't here you'll learn much about going to _that_ place," she said.
"But that wasn't what I meant. Listen, master and missy; but, mind you,
never you say one word,--now hush and listen," and in a very low voice
she went on: "To-night we'll get to a big town where there's a fair.
Mick's got it all settled to give you to a--a gentleman there, who'd
dress you up fine and teach you to sing and to dance.
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