"It does seem, Priscilla, as if Ladybird could not be Lavinia's child. But that does not matter. In any event she is _our_ child." "Yes," said Miss Priscilla, in a tone which seemed to Ladybird almost solemn. "Well, then," said Ladybird, quivering with excitement, "what are you going to do about it? Because I've written to this girl, whoever she is, to come here." "You have!" said Miss Priscilla; and Miss Dorinda said: "Well, perhaps it's just as well. Now we can straighten this thing out at once and forever. And it always has bothered me why Ladybird should have black eyes and hair." That afternoon, down under her own apple-tree, Ladybird told the whole story to Chester Humphreys. "I don't know, child," he said, "but it seems to me this Lavinia must be the Flint heiress and not you; but don't mind that, for you belong to Stella and me, and always will so long as we three shall live." "That's all right," said Ladybird, "and that's satisfactory as far as you and Stella are concerned: but I just guess I don't want some other girl taking my place with my aunts." "Of course you don't," said young Humphreys; "but still, if she is the rightful niece, and you're not, what are you going to do about it?" "I'll kill her!" said Ladybird, passionately. "I'll hang her! I'll drown her!" "There, there," said Chester Humphreys, soothingly; "there, there, baby, what's the use of talking nonsense? Those threats don't mean anything and you know it. Now if Miss Lovell is your aunt's niece and heiress, it is she who is the legal inheritor of Primrose Hall, and you--are nothing; that is, nothing to the Flint ladies." "Indeed I am," said Ladybird; "I just guess you'll find that my aunts, or whatever they are, love me for myself alone, and not because I'm the daughter of anybody." Chester Humphreys smiled uncertainly as he said: "Well, I don't know, Ladybird; but anyway, we'll go now and talk to the Flint ladies, and see what they have to say." The interview with the Misses Flint resulted in long and earnest arguments by each of the four concerned; but Miss Priscilla wound up by saying: "It may all be so; I don't say it isn't. There may be another child named Lavinia Lovell who is really the daughter of our sister; but this child, the one we call Ladybird, and who has lived with us for nearly a year, shall be our heir, the inheritor of our estates, and to all intents and purposes our grandniece, Lavinia Lovell." "Hooray for you, aunty!" cried Ladybird, and flying across the room, she wrapped her arms around Miss Priscilla's shoulders and buried her face in the old lady's neck. "You do love me, don't you?" "Yes, Ladybird," said Miss Priscilla, with a dignity that seemed possibly more than the occasion called for. "Yes, we do love you, and no other shall succeed in winning our love away from the little girl who has fought for and gained it."