CHAPTER II LADYBIRD Dinner at Primrose Hall was rather an elaborate meal, and was always served promptly at six o'clock. Old Josiah Flint had been very particular about his household appointments and habits, and since his death his daughters had made no changes. After dinner the ladies always went to the library and read the village newspaper, or dozed over their knitting-work until bedtime. But one evening in early June this routine was interfered with, by the arrival of a letter bearing a foreign postmark. It was addressed in what was evidently a man's hand, and the two good ladies were greatly excited. Miss Dorinda felt a pleasant flutter of anticipation, but Miss Priscilla felt a foreboding that something disagreeable was in the letter, and she hesitated before she opened it. "It's postmarked 'London,'" she said. "Do we know any one in London? Maria Peters went there once, but she came back, and anyway, she's dead." "Open it, sister," implored Miss Dorinda. And after scrutinizing it thoroughly once more, Miss Priscilla did open it. "It is signed 'Thomas J. Bond,'" she exclaimed, looking at the signature. "Now, can it be Tom Bond who was old Jonathan Bond's son? His mother was a Coriell." "Read it, sister," said Miss Dorinda. So Miss Priscilla read the letter aloud, and this is what it said: Miss Priscilla Flint, Dear Madam: During a recent visit to India I learned that a friend of mine, Jack Lovell, was living at Bombay, and I went there to see him. But it was my sad experience to reach his home the day after he had died from a sudden attack of fever. He left a little child, who told me that her mother had been dead many years, and, indeed, the poor child seemed utterly alone in the world. I tried to find out from Lovell's papers something about his effects, but as he was of a roving and careless disposition, everything was left at sixes and sevens, and I am afraid there is no provision for the child. Therefore, since Jack's wife was your sister, I think the right thing to do is to send the little girl to you at once. And if I can find any money or property belonging to her I will advise you later. My wife and I brought her from India to London with us, and I will send her to you on the next steamer. Trusting that this letter will insure her a kindly reception, I am Yours very respectfully, Thomas J. Bond. To say that after reading this remarkable letter Miss Priscilla appeared surprised, amazed, astounded, excited, irritated, angry, umbrageous, furious, or even to say that she was in a state of high dudgeon, would give but an inadequate idea of the indignation shown in her face and manner. But she only said, "She cannot come!" and snapped her teeth shut in the way she always did when very decided.