THE ARRIVAL OF THE EARL
At half-past three Thursday afternoon Ladybird was in the plum-orchard.
It had never occurred to her to doubt the arrival of Chester Humphreys,
or that he could experience any difficulty in finding her at her somewhat
indefinite address.
And being a fairly clever and up-to-date young man, Chester Humphreys did
not experience any difficulties, or, if he did, he overcame them; for
promptly at the appointed hour he stood before Ladybird, and bowed
politely, saying, "Miss Ladybird Lovell?"
"Yes," said Ladybird, rising from her seat on the grass, and suddenly
acquiring a new dignity as she heard her name pronounced in such a formal
tone. Then she looked at him steadily, without a touch of impertinence,
but with an air of gravest criticism.
She saw a tall, well-built young man with broad, strong shoulders, and a
frank, honest face which showed both perception and responsiveness.
"You're not an earl," she said; and though her tone showed
disappointment, it was more in sorrow than in anger.
"How do you know I'm not?" he said, smiling a little.
"By your clothes," said Ladybird, simply. "Of course I know you wouldn't
wear your coronet and robes; but you'd wear something prettier than blue
serge."
"I am not an earl," said her visitor; "but if I were, I would wear on
this occasion these very same clothes. And now, tell me all about it."
With a smile that seemed to compel a comfortable confidence, he motioned
Ladybird back to her grassy seat under the plum-tree, and then sat down
by her side.
"First of all, who are you?" he said.
"No; first of all, who are you?" said Ladybird.
"Quite right," said the young man; "I accept the rebuke. My name you
already know; my home is New York. Just now I'm on my vacation, and in
vagrant mood I'm enjoying this part of our country."
"Are you a good man?" said Ladybird.
"I am a good man," said Humphreys, "though very few people know it;
still, I'm prepared to prove it whenever it may be necessary."
"Are you accomplished?" said Ladybird.
"I can play a few things, work at a few more, and I can sing."
"I'm glad you can sing," said Ladybird; "Stella is very fond of music."
"But, my dear child," said Humphreys, "I told you I didn't come down here
in the interest of that philanthropic scheme of yours; I came only to see
you. And now it's your turn to tell me who _you_ are."
"Me? Oh, I'm just Ladybird."
"Is that your real name?"
"No, I suppose not," with a slight frown; "my aunties say it is Lavinia;
but I never knew that till I came here. They say, too, I'm fourteen years
old; but I know I'm twelve. And they say I used to have yellow hair and
blue eyes; but I can't think I ever did, can you?"
"It is hard to think so," said Humphreys, looking at the little brown
face with its big dark eyes and elfish wisps of straight black hair. "At
the same time, I dislike to doubt your aunts' word. Why do they have such
apparently contradictory notions?"
"I don't know," said Ladybird; "I've only lived here a little while, you
know. My mama was my aunts' younger sister, and she ran away with my
papa, and they lived in India. And I lived there, too, until papa died;
and then I was sent here to aunties'. And at first my aunties didn't like
me a bit, and didn't want me to stay; but I had to stay, so of course
they had to like me. You can't live with people without liking them, you
know."
"Can't you?" said Humphreys. "And do you like them?"
"Yes," said Ladybird, "I _love_ them. I love Aunt Dorinda best; but I
love Aunt Priscilla most."
"I should like to know them," said Humphreys. "Can't you take me in and
introduce me to them?"
"I will pretty soon," said Ladybird; "but first I want to settle about
Stella."
"What is this Stella story, anyhow, you ridiculous child? Do your aunts
know you wrote that letter to Governor Hyde?"
"No," said Ladybird, seriously, "they don't. If they had they wouldn't
have let me write it. You see, everything I've tried to do to help Stella
they scolded me about it, and told me I mustn't do it, and that it was
none of my affair. Now it _is_ my affair, for Stella is my friend; and
what can be more your affair than your friend?"
"Nothing," said Humphreys, seeing that an answer was demanded of him.
"No, of course not. And so I thought, and I thought; and I decided this
was the only way to do it; and I was sure the governor would send
somebody nice, because my aunties say he is such a nice man."
"But tell me about Stella; I don't understand it all yet."
"Well, you see," said Ladybird, "Stella is the beautifulest, loveliest,
angelest girl in the whole world, and she has a horrid old grandfather
and grandmother who want her to marry Charley Hayes, and Charley Hayes is
horrid too. And Stella doesn't love him, but she doesn't hate him as much
as I do."
"I should hope not, if she's going to marry him," said Humphreys.
"But she thinks she's got to marry him," went on Ladybird, "because her
grandparents say she must, and because there isn't anybody else in
Plainville that would be any better."
"And must she marry somebody?"
"Well, she doesn't want to marry anybody; but old Mr. and Mrs. Marshall
say she's got to. And I mean that I can't find anybody better for her in
Plainville, and so that's why I wrote to the governor; and I'm glad he
sent you, for you're ever so much handsomer than Charley Hayes, and I
really think you'll do very nicely."
"My dear little girl," said Humphreys, "you must get that notion out of
your head. I told you in my letter that I did not come down in the
interests of the fair Stella, but to see you."
"Why did you want to see me?" said Ladybird, her big eyes wide with
bewilderment.
"Because I wanted to know what kind of a child it was who wrote that
letter."
"And the governor didn't send you?" cried Ladybird.
"No, of course the governor didn't send me."
"Oh, well, it's all the same," she said airily; "you came because I wrote
that letter to the governor, so it doesn't make any difference. And
you'll have to marry Stella, you know, because that's what I sent for you
for. You aren't married to anybody else, are you?"
"No, of course not," said the young man.
"Then that's all right; and Stella is so sweet and beautiful you won't
mind it a bit."
"You said she was beautiful, before," observed Humphreys. "And now I
think, if you please, we will go up to the house and see your aunts. I
would like to pay my respects to them. You have a nice dog there."
"Cloppy?" said Ladybird. "Yes; he is the beautifulest dog in the world."
She was kneading him like a mass of dough as she spoke. "He's such a
comfort! He never minds what I do to him."
"And Stella, doesn't she mind what you do to her, either?"
"Stella! Oh, she doesn't know what I do for her. Of course when you do
things for your friends you don't tell them about it."
"And doesn't Stella know that you wrote to the governor in her behalf?"
"Of course _not_!" said Ladybird, with great dignity; and rising, she
gathered up Cloppy, hung him over her arm and said: "Now, if you please,
we will go to the house."
Remarking to himself that this was certainly a jolly go, Chester
Humphreys followed the picturesque figure of Ladybird as she flew through
the orchards.
Crossing the great sweep of lawn, they came to Primrose Hall, where, on
the front veranda, sat the Misses Flint, placidly knitting.
"My aunties," cried Ladybird, as she came near them, "this is a friend of
mine I have brought to see you. His name is Mr. Chester Humphreys, and he
lives in New York, and he came here to see me."
"Chester Humphreys!" exclaimed Aunt Priscilla, rising and dropping her
knitting. "Excuse me, sir, but was your mother a Stedman?"
"She was," said the young man; "and my father was Chester Humphreys of
Newburyport."
"Then you are the son of one of my dearest girlhood friends," said Miss
Priscilla, "and I am very glad to see you."
Miss Dorinda fluttered about, brought a piazza chair and cushions to make
their guest comfortable, while Ladybird seated herself on a cricket, took
her chin in her hands, and sat gazing at the young man.
"Do you know," Humphreys observed, "that, notwithstanding my interview
with your small niece here, and my subsequent introduction to you, I
don't even yet know the name of my hostesses?"
"Flint," said Miss Priscilla. "We are the daughters of Josiah Flint."
"Then," said young Humphreys, "I have always known of you; for I have
heard of the Flints all my life."
"Yes," said Miss Priscilla, "Esther Stedman was not one to forget her old
friends. And though I have not seen her for many years, I am more than
glad to welcome her son to my house."
"And I," said Miss Dorinda. "But may I ask how it came about? Were you
passing through Plainville? And how did you chance to meet Ladybird?"
"Perhaps Ladybird would prefer to tell you that herself," said Chester
Humphreys, his grave eyes looking quizzically at the child.
"Why, you know, aunties," said Ladybird, "you know very well, for I've
told you a hundred million times, that I wanted to find a nice, handsome
young man for Stella; and so you see I wrote to the governor for one,
and--and Mr. Humphreys came."
"Lavinia Lovell," exclaimed Miss Priscilla Flint, "do you mean to tell
me--"
"One moment, Miss Flint," said Chester Humphreys. "Let me assure you that
Ladybird's letter was quite decorous and proper. Every citizen is
privileged to write to his governor; that's what governors are for. And
it was a very nice, ladylike letter. But let me also assure you that I
did not come down here in response to what the letter asked for, but
merely to meet the plucky and loyal friend who wrote it."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Humphreys," said Miss Priscilla. "I beg you
will dismiss entirely from your mind this ridiculous performance of my
niece, and I will promise you that Lavinia shall not be allowed to think
of it again, or to mention it to that very estimable young lady, Miss
Stella Russell."
"Oh, no, aunty," said Ladybird; "I wouldn't say a word to Stella for
anything; but won't Mr. Humphreys be gorgeous for her?"
"Go to your room, Lavinia," said Miss Priscilla, sternly; and picking up
Cloppy, Ladybird went.