As no one else seemed able to make any reply to this astounding announcement, old Matthew said: "Well, if so be 's you've come to stay, I might as well lock the door behind you." And he proceeded to do so, while the small visitor followed his movements with her laughing eyes. Then she turned, still smiling, to the four women who stood watching her with various expressions of surprise, consternation, admiration, and dismay. The mite gave a quick, comprehensive look at each one, and then, intuitively judging by the superior cap-ruffles rather than by any appearance of friendly welcome, she pointed a tiny forefinger at the two Flint ladies in turn, and said: "I think you're my aunts, and I hope you're glad to see me." Then Miss Priscilla found her voice. "Your aunts!" she almost screamed. "Who are you, child, and what are you doing here?" "I'm Ladybird," answered the mite--"Ladybird Lovell. My father is dead, and you're my aunts, you know, so I've come to live with you. Mr. Bond says my mother used to be your sister," she went on in an explanatory tone; "but she's dead too: she died long ago, so I'm all alone, except Cloppy." In the hollow of her little bent arm was what seemed to be a gray muff with a blue bow on it, but as she shook it out and held it up it proved to be a dog. "This is Cloppy," she said; "he's my dog, and he's such a dear, though he's a lot of trouble. Do you like dogs?" Now Miss Priscilla Flint did _not_ like dogs, but that was a matter of small importance compared with the dire calamity which threatened her quiet household. Her very cap-bows shook with the vehement decision of her tone as she answered: "No, I do _not_ like dogs, and still less do I like visitors. I cannot turn you from my door in the middle of the night, but nevertheless you must go away as soon as I can arrange it, for you cannot live here." Then Ladybird laughed again--such a gay, merry, mirthsome laugh. "Why, aunty," she said, "I'm not company; I'm one of the family. And I'm not visiting you; I've come to live here forever and ever. This is my home, and I haven't any other. And you'll learn to love Cloppy, too, he's so soft and cuddly. Just hold him once." She put the blinking Skye terrier into Miss Priscilla's arms, which promptly unfolded and let the dog drop to the floor. Then Ladybird laughed again. "Oh, you funny aunty," she cried, and turning to Miss Dorinda said brightly, "Don't you like dogs, either?" "Not very much," said Miss Dorinda, looking at her new-found relative with a sort of fascination. "Well, never mind," said Ladybird, cheerfully, as she took Cloppy up and threw him over her arm like a folded shawl, "I won't let him bother you any. And now shall we go to bed?" This suggestion, though timely, gave Miss Priscilla another shock. No preparations had been made for such hospitality, and at Primrose Hall nothing was ever done without preparation.