Details were the delight of Miss Priscilla Flint's heart, and she prepared to attend to the details of Ladybird's life with a great and large gusto; but in her planning she reckoned without her niece, who proved a not unimportant factor in the case. Although Miss Flint's indomitable will could unflinchingly face battle, murder, and sudden death, the will of her young relative was of the sort that jumped right over such obstacles and came down smiling on the other side. One of the first of these Greek tugs of war was in reference to Ladybird's dog. "Of course, Lavinia," Miss Priscilla said, "you must see that it will be impossible for you to keep that beast here." There was no reply from Ladybird, who sat with a happy, beaming countenance, swaying back and forth in a tiny, old-fashioned rocker, with her blinking terrier closely clasped in her arms. Miss Priscilla had effectually learned that to get any answer from her niece she must call her Ladybird. But the good lady compromised by using the more dignified title when making a statement which required no answer. "I say you cannot keep that dog here. What are you going to do about it--Ladybird?" Ladybird smiled at her aunt in a bewitching way. "_I_ don't know, aunty," she said. "Where _could_ I keep him?" "You can't keep him at all, Lavinia. You know both your Aunt Dorinda and I detest dogs, and so you must either sell him or give him away." Ladybird gazed at her aunt with great, serious eyes. "I won't sell him," she said slowly; "but I will give him away." "That's a good girl," said her aunt, approvingly. "And will you do it to-day?" "Yes; right away," said Ladybird, rising, with Cloppy still cuddled in her arms. "Ah!" said Miss Priscilla, uncertain how to account for such docility. "And to whom will you give him?" "To you," cried Ladybird, and depositing the moppy mass in her aunt's lap, she ran laughing from the room. Miss Priscilla rang a furious peal on the bell, and when Ladybird, who was dancing through the hall, saw Martha appear and answer to the summons, she sauntered leisurely into the room behind the rustling maid. "Martha," said Miss Priscilla, pointing to the dog, which she had slid from her lap to the floor, "take that animal and dispose of it somehow. You may give it away or sell it, or take it to the pound; but never let me see it in or near this house again." "Yes, ma'am," said Martha, picking up Cloppy, while Ladybird burst into a peal of ringing laughter. "Such a funny aunty!" she cried, dancing over to Miss Flint, and putting one little thin arm round the old lady's neck. "Martha, of course aunty is only joking. Please put Cloppy in his basket in my room; I'm sure he wants a nap." "Yes, miss," said Martha, glancing furtively at Miss Priscilla. But whether it was the touch of the child's tiny fingers on her old cheek, or whether her will bowed perforce to a superior one, Miss Priscilla's face expressed no contrary orders.