"What does she mean?" asked Miss Dorinda, as Ladybird disappeared down the garden path. "Who can ever tell what her nonsense means?" said Miss Priscilla, feeling rather irritated at having carried her point regarding the brown frock. But the brown frock arrayed a very gay and mischievous Ladybird, who danced along through the sunshine, singing: "It was best to leave you thus, dear-- Best for you and best for me." CHAPTER VIII STELLA RUSSELL With no other intent than to put as great a distance as possible between herself and Primrose Hall, Ladybird wandered on through the last of the Flint orchards, and found herself confronted by a rail fence, over which she promptly climbed. She crossed a small brook, two fields, and another orchard, when from one of the trees she heard a pleasant, young voice say: "Hello, little girl!" Although, as a rule, not many creatures, except birds, are looked for in trees, yet Ladybird's mind was of the type which accepts without question, and looking up, she called back, "Hello!" though she could see of the person addressed only some pink muslin and a small swinging slipper. "What do you want?" said the voice again, and a pretty, smiling face appeared above the pink muslin. "I don't want anything," said Ladybird; "I'm just taking a walk." "Oh, well, if you've walked from Primrose Hall 'way over here, you must be tired. Won't you come up here and sit by me?" "Yes, thank you," said Ladybird; and she easily swung herself up the crooked old boughs of the apple-tree, and seated herself facing her hostess, who proved to be a very charming young woman indeed. "Aren't you the little girl who lives with the Flint ladies?" she said. "Yes," said Ladybird; "they're my aunts." "I am Stella Russell, and I live on this farm, which is next to Primrose Place. I live with my grandfather and grandmother." "Oh, haven't you any mother, either?" said Ladybird, quickly, and her little brown paw slid into the girl's white hand. "No," said Stella, silently accepting Ladybird's unspoken sympathy. "I haven't a friend in the world, except my grandparents." "Why, how funny!" said Ladybird. "I should think you could have lots of friends, you are so pretty and so bright. I'll be your friend." "I think I should like to have you," said Stella, but slowly, as if considering a weighty matter; "but you see, I am queer about my friends." "How?" asked Ladybird. "Well," said Stella, wearily, "of course I know all the people in Plainville,--I have lived here a great many years,--but I can't seem to persuade myself that they are the kind of people I want for my friends. Oh, of course they are nice, good people, you know--" "Yes, I know," said Ladybird, nodding her head wisely.