"Hello, Martha," she cried gaily, "did you think I was lost? I've been calling on my aunt; it's such a lovely morning for visiting, you know. But I'm as hungry as a bear, and now I think I'll get dressed and go to breakfast." She jumped into the room, and with Martha's assistance her toilette was soon made; then she seized her dog and went dancing down-stairs. After wandering through several of the large rooms she came to the dining-room, where the breakfast-table was laid; seeing nothing to eat, she went on to the kitchen. Bridget looked at her with no kindly eye, for she resented any intrusion on the quiet of Primrose Hall as much as Miss Priscilla did. But when Ladybird said wistfully, "I'm very hungry," the good-hearted old cook fell a victim at once to the irresistible charm of the strange child. "Are ye that, miss? And what would ye like now?" "Oh, anything!--I don't care what; and if I go and sit at the table will you bring me something?" "I will indeed, miss. Run along, thin, and set at the place forninst the side-board." And so that's how it happened that when, a few minutes later, Miss Priscilla and Miss Dorinda came into the dining-room they found their guest ensconced at their table and apparently enjoying herself very much. "Good morning, aunties," she said smilingly. "I ought to have waited for you, I know, but truly, I was so hungry I just couldn't. And Bridget brought me such lovely things! I never had strawberries and cream before. Do you always use these beautiful blue-and-white dishes? For if you don't, you needn't get them out just because I've come." "We always use them," said Miss Priscilla; "we have used them for forty years, and not a piece has ever been broken." "Is that so?" said Ladybird, with great interest, quite unconscious that the remark was intended for a warning to herself, as her quick motions and unexpected gestures seemed to threaten the safety of anything in her vicinity. Having finished her strawberries, she sat back, and throwing her little thin arms above her head, grasped the carved knobs of the high, old-fashioned chair. "Why, you're just like me, aunty," she said; "I think that's the right way to do--to use your best things every day. It's such a comfort to see them around; and you needn't break china or glass just because you use it. Why, I'll show you what can be done with them, and there's not the slightest danger if you're careful." As the child spoke, she pushed away her plate, and ranged her cup, saucer, and glass in a row in front of her, and seized a spoon in one hand and a fork in the other. Then in a sweet, crooning voice she began to sing: "Should _auld_ acquaintance _be_ forgot, And _never_ brought to _mind_?" striking her glass lightly with her spoon at the accented notes, and beating an accompaniment alternately on her cup and saucer.