Ladybird was not familiar with the phrase “sense of humor,” or she would have used it right here.
“And so,” she went on cheerfully, “I hear you’ve had a letter from old Mrs. Lovell.”
“Your grandmother, Ladybird,” said Miss Priscilla, a little severely. “And how did you hear it?”
“Yes, my grandmother,” said Ladybird. “And I heard it by listening at the hall door.”
“You’re a naughty girl,” said Miss Dorinda.
“I am,” said Ladybird, serenely; “no nice old lady in London would want such a naughty girl as I am, would she?”
“That doesn’t matter, Ladybird,” said Miss Priscilla. “And you must stop your nonsense now; for your grandmother Lovell has really sent for you, and you must go to her.”
“Indeed!” said Ladybird, with a most derisive accent. “Indeed!”
“Be quiet, Ladybird,” went on Miss Flint; “I am in earnest now—very much in earnest. Mrs. Lovell has sent for you; for naturally she wants one of her grandchildren with her, and Lavinia, being our niece, and the rightful heir to the Flint estates, must, of course, stay with us. By the way, where is the child?”
“She’s up in her room,” said Ladybird; “and she’s crying her eyes out because she can’t go back to England and live with her grandmother Lovell. But she’ll get over it. Oh, yes, she’ll get over it! She’ll change her mind, and she’ll love to live with her Primrose aunties; and she’ll forget all about her London grandmother! Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!”