CHAPTER XIX
LADYBIRD vs. LAVINIA
One day, Ladybird, watching from her window, saw a hack drive up to Primrose Hall. A middle-aged gentleman got out.
“Mr. William H. Ward,” she said to herself, serenely.
Next appeared a golden-haired, blue-eyed girl of about fourteen.
“Lavinia Flint!” said Ladybird; and putting her little black head down on Cloppy’s fat back, she cried as if her heart would break.
“We ought to be ashamed of ourselves, you and I, Clops,” she said, “because, if that isn’t the real Lavinia, there’s no use in our making a fuss; and if it is, why, then she is It, and we’re nothing, and that’s all there is about that!”
A little later Martha came to the door and said, “Miss Ladybird, you’re wanted in the parlor.”
“Martha,” said Ladybird, looking straight at the maid, “you go down and say to my Aunt Priscilla that I want that Lovell girl to come up here. And after I have seen her, we will both go down to the parlor.”
“Yes, miss,” said Martha.
She soon reappeared, bringing the visitor with her.