* * * * *
One question may be asked. Did they ever hear of Diana again? Yes,
though not till Tim had grown into a strapping young fellow, and the
twins were tall and thin, and had long since left off talking of "us."
There came along the lanes one summer's day a covered van hung over at
the back with baskets, such as the children well remembered. A
good-humoured looking man was walking by the horse, a handsome woman was
sitting by the door plaiting straw.
"Gipsies," cried the children, who were on their way to the village,
and, big as they were, they were a little frightened when, with a cry,
the woman jumped down and flew towards them.
"Master and missy, don't you know me? I'm Diana!" she exclaimed.
And Diana it was, though very much changed for the better. She had
married one of her own tribe, but a very good specimen, and the husband
and wife travelled about on their own account making their living
"honestly," as she took care to tell. "For there's good and there's bad
of us, and it's been my luck to get a good one. Thank God for it," she
added, "for I've never forgot master and missy's pretty telling me even
poor Diana might think God cared for her."
She was taken to see Grandpapa and Grandmamma of course, and they would
have helped her and her husband to a settled life had they wished it.
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