“In the interests of my client,” he said, “I am obliged to press the claims of Lavinia Lovell, the oldest daughter of John Lovell, against the claims of Ladybird, a younger daughter of the same man.”
“But I make no claims,” said Ladybird, who was cuddling in Miss Priscilla’s arms. “If that other Lavinia wants my place, and if she has claims and papers and things to prove she has a right to it, why, let her come and take it, that’s all.”
“That’s all,” said Miss Priscilla.
“Well, she has,” said Mr. Ward,
“Yes,” said Miss Dorinda; “go on.”
“There is only this,” said Mr. Ward: “my papers, which I have shown to you ladies, prove conclusively that Lavinia Lovell, whom I have just brought to you, is your niece; and this other child, whom you have accepted as your niece, is not such, although she is the daughter of your sister’s husband by his second wife.”
“Yes,” said Miss Priscilla Flint, holding Ladybird closer.
“Yes,” said Ladybird, in a contented tone.
“And so,” said Mr. Ward, going on with some difficulty—“and so, Lavinia Lovell, the child I have brought to you, is your niece, and consequently dependent upon you.”
“Yes,” said Miss Priscilla Flint, still holding Ladybird close.