“That’s a very selfish way to look at it,” said Miss Flint; “a party is intended to give your guests pleasure.”
“And it ought to give you pleasure,” put in Aunt Dorinda, in her gentle way, “to know that your guests are enjoying themselves. Wouldn’t that please you, Ladybird?”
“Oh, yes, I’d be awful glad to have them enjoy themselves; but I don’t see why I couldn’t be enjoying myself at the same time. Why not let the party come, and you and Aunt Priscilla give them their supper, and let Edith and Cloppy and me go down by the brook and have some fun?”
“Don’t be absurd, Lavinia,” said Miss Priscilla. “It is quite right that you should give a party to your young friends, and I think you will enjoy it quite as much as they do. It will be a very nice party; your Aunt Dorinda and I will provide a pretty supper, and the young people can stroll about the lawn, or, if the day is chilly, you can play at games in the house.”
“It doesn’t sound a bit nice,” said Ladybird; “but I suppose the other children will like it, and so I don’t mind. When shall we have it?”
“To-morrow is Saturday,” said Miss Priscilla, “and I think to-morrow afternoon from three to six will be a good time for it. You can go out in the morning and invite your friends, while we make the cakes and jellies.”
“All right,” said Ladybird, with an air of resignation. “Who shall I ask?”
“Oh, I don’t care,” said Miss Flint, who was already looking into her recipe-book; “ask any one you choose. But be sure to get eleven; I like to have just twelve at the table.”
“I’ll help you make out a list, dearie, if you want me to,” said Aunt Dorinda.
“No, thank you,” said Ladybird; “the list will be easy enough. I like Edith Fairchild and Bob Sheldon the best, and then I’ll ask the Smith girls and Tom Cooper,—it will be easy enough to get eleven, and they’ll be awfully glad to come.”