“All right, come on,” said Ladybird; and she grasped Miss Priscilla’s hand in both her own, and danced along at the old lady’s side.
“‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot?’”
Miss Dorinda followed, and she and her sister took their accustomed seats in the bay-window.
Then Ladybird placed a low ottoman at Miss Priscilla’s side and sat down upon it, and laid her head against her aunt’s knee.
Although Miss Dorinda might seem to a casual observer to be a softer, kinder nature than her elder sister, yet for some unaccountable reason Ladybird felt more attracted toward Miss Priscilla; and, too, the child could already see that Miss Priscilla’s word was law at Primrose Hall, and that Miss Dorinda merely acquiesced in her sister’s decisions.
But it was no spirit of diplomacy that actuated Ladybird, and she caressed Miss Priscilla’s hand for the simple reason that she was beginning to love the stern old lady.
“Now,” said Miss Priscilla, glaring at her niece, “will you tell me what your name is?”
“Ladybird Lovell,” said the little girl, with a bewitching smile.
“I mean your real name, not that absurd nickname.”