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"It all apends," she repeated. "Wife, can you understand her?" questioned the man. "I think she means that it all depends, Ben." "Oh, depends on what now, my dear?" "On whether you is good to my bwother or not." "Oh, is that all? Well, I'll be good to 'im." "He's awfu' fwightened of you." "Well, he needn't be. If you'll manage him I won't say a word." "Won't you twuly?
Then I love you," said Diana. "Now, listen to me I has been a-talking to him." "That's right, missy. Have a sip of my stout, won't you?" "No; I don't like it; it's black, nasty stuff. Put it away; I won't touch it. Well, now, listen to me, Uncle Ben. It apends altogether on whether you is good to Orion to-morrow or not whether he wides well, or whether he wides badly, and what I think is this "
"'Member, Orion, you has pwomised, and it all apends," said Diana, in a low, but very clear, voice. The little fellow looked at her. Her spirited action, the splendid color in her cheeks, the glow of excitement in her great big eyes, inspired him.
"Come here this minute, you little romp, and get on my knee." Diana flew up to him, climbed on his knee, put her arms round his neck, and kissed him. "You's sort o' fond of me, I'm thinking," she said. "Yes, that I be, missy," he answered; "you are the 'cutest little gal I ever seed, and you are fond of poor Uncle Ben, eh?" "It all apends," replied Diana. "Now what do you mean by that, missy?"
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