CHAPTER XIV SOME LETTERS
As the weeks and months went on, life at Primrose Hall adjusted itself tothe new conditions made necessary by the addition of a child and a dog toits hitherto unrippled routine.
Miss Priscilla lived with her usual energy; Miss Dorinda existed a littlemore calmly, and Ladybird lived and moved and had her excited being withall sorts of variations, from grave to gay, from lively to severe, _adlibitum_.
The winter passed much in its usual way, and after that the spring came,laughing. April tumbled into May, and May danced into June, bringingecstasy to one little heart, for with late June days came the summervacation from school.
"My aunties," said Ladybird, looking up from a lesson she was studying,"who is the governor of this State?"
"Hyde," replied her Aunt Priscilla. "Governor Horace E. Hyde."
"Is he a nice man?" asked Ladybird, drumming on the table with bothhands, and on the floor with both feet.
"Do stop that fearful noise, Lavinia. Yes, he is a fine, capablegovernor, and a true gentleman. Why?"
"Are you studying your history lesson, dear?" asked Aunt Dorinda. "Is itabout the governor?"
"I'm studying my history lesson, but it isn't about the governor,"answered Ladybird, truthfully. "I only asked because I wanted to know."
"That is right, Lavinia," said Miss Priscilla, approvingly. "It is wiseto inquire often concerning such matters of general information; by suchmeans one may acquire much valuable knowledge."
"Yes, 'm," said Ladybird. "Where is his office?"
"Whose, the governor's? Oh, in the State House, I suppose, though hewould doubtless have a private office at home."
"Yes, 'm," said Ladybird.
That same afternoon Ladybird collected some apples and cookies, and witha pad of paper and a pencil in her hand, and Cloppy hanging over her arm,she remarked that she was going down to the orchard, and went.
"You see, Cloppy," she said as they walked along, "we've just got to helpStella,--my pretty Stella; she has no one to help her but you and me.She's a damsel in distress, and we're a brave knight. Of course we can'tfight for her with spears and lancets; but we can do better than that.The pen is mightier than the sword, and, Cloppy, I've got the veryelegantest scheme. I'm going to write to the governor--the governor ofthe State, you know. He can do anything, and if I write him a niceletter, I'm sure he'll send a duke, or a belted earl, or something that'snicer than Charley Hayes, anyway. But oh, Cloppy-dog, how I do hate towrite a letter! I can't write very good, and I can't spell very good, andI'm scared to death of the governor. You know he's an awful big man,Cloppy, a great man, with a white wig and a cocked hat; but I'm going todo it, and I won't tell my aunties, because I'm 'most sure they wouldn'tlet me. But I must do something to rescue my beautiful Stella from diredismay."
Ladybird climbed one of her favorite apple-trees, settled Cloppycomfortably in her lap, and placing her paper pad on him as on a desk,prepared to write. A puckered brow was for a long time the only outwardand visible sign of her inward and spiritual resolve to help her friend.
"Oh," she said at last, "it is harder even than I thought it would be;but I'll do it for my Stella."
"Of course," she thought, "'Dear Mr. Governor' must be the way to beginit, because there isn't any other way."
After writing the three words, she paused again, trying to remember whather language lessons had taught her. "I only remember one rule," she saidto herself, talking aloud, as she was in the habit of doing, "and thatis: 'Never use a preposition to end a sentence with.' But goodness me! ifI can't begin a sentence, it doesn't make much difference what I use toend it with; does it, Clops?"
She poked the dog with her pencil, to which he responded by a series ofwriggles.
"Do keep still, Cloppy, or I'll never get my letter done. Now let me see.I think another rule was something like, 'If you have a story to tell,state it clearly, and in as few words as you can't get along without.'Now I'm not going to tell any story; it's the solemn truth; but I supposethe rule's the same for that."
After long and hard work, and much scratching out and putting in again,Ladybird succeeded in producing the following epistle:
Dear Mr. Governor:
It is a traggedy! Stella is a lovly girl, and that silly Charley Hayes is not good enough; but I don't know of any other men in Plainville, except married ones, and the ragman, so what can I do? But you are noble, brave, and powerful, so please send by return mail a nice, handsum, good, young man. I mean send a letter about him, with blue eyes if possible, and anyway, an earl. Don't tell Stella right off. Send the earl to me, and I will see if he will do. Please write to
Ladybird Lovell, Primrose Hall, Plainville.
P. S. And I am much obliged. I would have said more thanks but this is a business letter.
Ladybird.
"Now, Cloppy," said Ladybird, as she finished reading her work of art, "Ido really think that's a very nice letter, and I do really believe thegovernor will send a perfectly lovely young man for my Stella, and thenCharley Hayes can go and marry somebody else."
Cloppy wagged his tail, and blinked his eyes in his usual bored fashion,and Ladybird scrambled down from the apple-tree and trotted off to thepost-office to mail the important letter. She stamped it carefully, andaddressed it to "Governor Hyde, State House."
"Now," she said, as she walked home in great satisfaction, "I just guessI've done something for my friend, and I wish the answer would comequick."
It is not remarkable that Ladybird's letter should have safely reachedits destination. It was opened among the other mail by Gilbert Knox, thegovernor's private secretary. As letters of a similar type had beenreceived before, and found no favor in the governor's eyes, not even asinteresting curiosities, young Knox was about to toss it into thewaste-basket, when his chum Chester Humphreys came into the office.
"Hello, Chester," he said; "you like odd tricks. Here's a letter that mayinterest you. Want to read it?"
Chester Humphreys read Ladybird's letter.
"You might go down to Plainville," said Gilbert Knox, "and personate theearl."
"I don't think I care for the lovely Stella," returned Humphreys;"besides, I'm not an earl. But I'd like to see the kid that wrote thatletter. I think I'll write and make an appointment with her just forfun."
"Do," said the secretary; "that is, if you see any fun in hunting up alittle freckle-faced child, who will probably be too shy to speak to youafter you get there."
"I don't see anything in this letter," said Humphreys, scanning it again,"to make me inevitably deduce freckles, nor yet shyness. In fact, themore I look at it, the more I think that baby's a genius; and anyway,I've nothing to do, and it's lovely country down there, and I'm going tochance it."
"All right," said Knox. "You'd better write her that you're coming."
"I will. Give us a pen."
And that's how it happened that in due time Ladybird received a letterwhich set her eyes and heart dancing. It caused no comment when oldMatthew handed her the precious document, for the child often hadletters--often, too, from distant cities, where she exchangedsouvenir-cards with other young collectors.
Stopping only to catch up Cloppy, she ran to the orchard and tore openthe envelope.
Over and over again she read these lines:
Miss Ladybird Lovell,
Dear Madam:
Without committing myself definitely to an offer to aid you in your project, I may say I would be glad to have an interview with you regarding the matter, and will be pleased to keep any appointment that you may make.
Yours obediently, Chester Humphreys.
"O
h," said Ladybird, with a sigh of rapturous delight, "isn't it grand! Ican't understand hardly a word of his letter, but he says he'll come tosee me about it, and that's all I want to know. Now I suppose I'll haveto write him again. It's awful hard work, but to think what it may meanto Stella!" With a little sigh, she went to fetch paper and pencil, and,returning, composed the third document in the case.
Mr. Chester Humphreys [she began],
Dear Earl:
I am glad you're coming [the letter went on] Hurry, oh, hurry, the daydraws near. I hope you are the right one, but I can tell the minute Ilook at you. I will be in the plum-orchard, at half-past three Thursdayafternoon. Come, oh, come.
Ladybird Lovell, Primrose Hall.
"He may not be an earl," she thought, "but then he may; and if he is, itwill be dreadful if I don't tell him so."