"Well, sir, you see my aunt, Miss Flint, is a very handsome and dignified lady. She doesn't admire such frivolous things as flippy-floppy little dogs, and they seem to interfere with her nerves. My aunt, Miss Flint, is of an old family and very exclusive, and has a great deal of what they call the--the infernal feminine." "Yes, she has," said Mr. Bates, with grave acquiescence. "And your other aunt, Miss Dorinda, doesn't she like your valuable dog either?" "Oh, Aunt Dorinda is different. She's younger, you know; or at least she can't seem to let go of her youth as Aunt Priscilla does. But that doesn't matter; my aunt, Miss Flint, is head of the house, and she says the dog must go, so go it's going to! Now the thing is, will you take him, Mr. Bates? I'm sure Mrs. Bates would like him--he's a dear dog." At this Ladybird's head went down on Cloppy's back again, and Mr. Bates feared another deluge; but suddenly the child looked up with a bright smile. "I could come to see him sometimes, couldn't I, Mr. Bates?" "I haven't said I'd take him yet. I'm a business man, you know. What is your dog good for?" Ladybird considered. "Well now, do you know, I never thought of that; I don't know as he is good for anything." "Bless my soul, child, do you expect me to accept a dog that is good for nothing?" "He isn't good for nothing," said Ladybird, indignantly; "he's a wonderful comfort, and I guess that counts for a lot! Oh, and he _is_ good for something, too: he can scare burglars away." "But no well-conducted burglar would stand greatly in awe of such a small bundle of dog as that." "No," said Ladybird, earnestly; "but he would bark, you know, and rouse the family, and then they could shoo the burglar out." "Has he ever scared a burglar away from Primrose Hall?" "No, because we never had any to scare; but I know he could do it, and I just wish burglars had attacked us in the watches of the night, because I know Cloppy would have barked like fury, and so saved us all from murder and pillage; and then Aunt Priscilla would have loved him and wanted to keep him." "Oh, you think she would?" said Mr. Bates, a queer look of mischief coming into his eyes. "I'm sure of it," said Ladybird. "But burglars never could get into Primrose Hall; isn't it securely locked up every night?" "Aunty means to have it so," said Ladybird; "but old Matthew is so forgetful. Why, sometimes he leaves the parlor windows unfastened, and they open right on the front piazza." "Oh, well, there are no burglars around here," said Mr. Bates, reassuringly; but his whole big frame seemed to be shaking with suppressed laughter, for which Ladybird could see no just cause.