“Hospitality is all very well, but it does not mean inviting a parcel of paupers to come in and make themselves at home in one’s house.”
“No,” said Stella, soothingly; “but since Ladybird has asked these people, and apparently from good and honest motives, is it not your duty to uphold your niece, at least before strangers?”
“No, it is not!” said Miss Priscilla, angrily. “My niece can bear the consequences of her own rash act. I’m going to order those people out of my house at once! Where is Dorinda? Does she know of this outrage?”
Just then Miss Dorinda appeared from the dining-room. She was flushed, but smiling, and her face wore a satisfied expression which betokened that all was well in the commissariat department.
Her smile faded as she caught sight of Miss Priscilla’s face; but before that irate lady could say a word, Ladybird came in from the front hall, marshaling her guests in a decorous line to be presented.
The widow Taylor came first, and she held a twin on either arm. The Taylor children were about a year old and of strenuous disposition.
Ladybird’s eyes were dancing with excitement, but with a demure politeness that had in it a charming touch of gentle courtesy she introduced Mrs. Taylor to her aunts.
“Ladybird marshaling her guests”
The widow was of the affably helpless type, and encumbered as she was with fidgety impedimenta, found herself unable to offer the hand of fellowship.