The Staying Guest

“You can go,” said Miss Priscilla, “as soon as we can find any one to take you. You’re enough to drive any one distracted, the way you worry and fret about going back home.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” cried Ladybird. “I didn’t mean only to draw up the deeds at once: I mean, why can’t Chester and Stella be married right away? What’s the use of waiting?”

“Ladybird,” said Miss Priscilla, sternly, “you promised me you’d stop meddling with Stella’s affairs.”

“Yes, I know, aunty, and so I will after she’s married. Chester can do it then; can’t you, Chester?”

“I can, indeed,” said the young man, heartily.

“And you’d like to begin right away, wouldn’t you?”

“I would, indeed,” he replied.

“Then that’s what I say,” went on Ladybird. “You two get married now and go to Europe on your wedding-trip, and you can take Lavinia over with you and leave her at her grandmother’s.”

“I don’t think that’s at all a bad scheme,” said Chester, looking at Stella.

“Ridiculous nonsense!” replied the girl. “We’re to be married next spring. That’s my ultimatum, and you can’t over-rule it this time, Ladybird!”

“Can’t I?” said Ladybird. “Well, maybe I can’t. But if I were you, Stella Russell, and a beautiful young man wanted me to marry him, I wouldn’t keep him waiting a thousand years. And if I were you, Mr. Chester Humphreys, and wanted to marry a dear, beautiful, lovely angel like Stella, I’d just do it – that’s what I’d do!”

Nothing more was said then on the subject; but the ridiculous remark of the absurd child so affected Mr. Humphreys that that evening, alone with his betrothed, he said a little diffidently:

“Ladybird’s arguments seem to me at least worthy of consideration.”

“Then let us consider them,” said Stella, promptly; and before the consideration was concluded, those two foolish young people had decided that Ladybird’s advice was wisdom, and that the only possible date for their marriage was not later than the following month.

“Of course,” said Ladybird, when told of this decision – “of course I knew you’d do it. There isn’t anything else to do; and we’ll have the wedding out in the orchard, under the apple-trees, and Lavinia and I will be bridesmaids, and oh, it will be perfectly lovely!”

It was perfectly lovely. The pretty outdoor wedding did full justice to all the traditions of Primrose Hall in the matter of festivities.

Stella in white muslin and blue ribbons was a lovely country bride, and Lavinia and Ladybird, in more white muslin and more blue ribbons, were lovely country bridesmaids. Their rôles, however, were decidedly different, for while Lavinia was quietly sweet and amiably indifferent, Ladybird was the mainspring of the whole affair. She was more than ever like a will-o’-the-wisp. She attended to everything, and flew here and there with sparkling eyes and burning cheeks, in a wild state of excitement.

“Isn’t it just perfect?” she cried, tumbling into Aunt Priscilla’s arms as the carriage drove away with the bride and groom. “Now they’ll go off on their honeymoon, but they won’t stay more than a fortnight. Chester promised me that. And then they’ll come back, and we’ll see them again, and then they’ll go to England and take Lavinia. Of course I like Lavinia; she’s very, very nice; but she wants so much to go to England that I can’t help being glad to have her go. No, that isn’t true,” she said as her aunt looked at her inquiringly; “I do like her, but I don’t want her here, and the real reason I’m glad she’s going is because I want to live here at Primrose Hall alone with you and Aunt Dorinda. Isn’t that what you want, aunty?”

Miss Priscilla Flint hesitated. The child Lavinia was the daughter of her own sister, and yet —

“Say true, aunty!” said Ladybird.

So Miss Priscilla Flint said “true.”

“It is what I want, dearie,” she said. “They say blood is thicker than water, but I don’t know about that. If we had known Lavinia first, we probably would have cared more for her than for you. But after you came and twined your foolish, ridiculous little self around our old hearts, we wanted no one else. I don’t know exactly what it is myself: there must be some reason.”

“It is because I love you,” said Ladybird, simply.