The Staying Guest

“How many?” said Ladybird.

“Not more than twelve, including yourself; because everything is in dozens, and I don’t want to get out the extras.”

“That’s eleven besides me. Why, Aunt Priscilla, I don’t like that many children in the whole school!”

“I’m ashamed of you, Lavinia; you should feel more kindly toward all your fellow-creatures.”

“Oh, I feel kindly enough about them, and I like them well enough, but I just don’t want to make a party of them. A party ought to be a few people that you can really enjoy.”

“That’s a very selfish way to look at it,” said Miss Flint; “a party is intended to give your guests pleasure.”

“And it ought to give you pleasure,” put in Aunt Dorinda, in her gentle way, “to know that your guests are enjoying themselves. Wouldn’t that please you, Ladybird?”

“Oh, yes, I’d be awful glad to have them enjoy themselves; but I don’t see why I couldn’t be enjoying myself at the same time. Why not let the party come, and you and Aunt Priscilla give them their supper, and let Edith and Cloppy and me go down by the brook and have some fun?”

“Don’t be absurd, Lavinia,” said Miss Priscilla. “It is quite right that you should give a party to your young friends, and I think you will enjoy it quite as much as they do. It will be a very nice party; your Aunt Dorinda and I will provide a pretty supper, and the young people can stroll about the lawn, or, if the day is chilly, you can play at games in the house.”

“It doesn’t sound a bit nice,” said Ladybird; “but I suppose the other children will like it, and so I don’t mind. When shall we have it?”

“To-morrow is Saturday,” said Miss Priscilla, “and I think to-morrow afternoon from three to six will be a good time for it. You can go out in the morning and invite your friends, while we make the cakes and jellies.”

“All right,” said Ladybird, with an air of resignation. “Who shall I ask?”

“Oh, I don’t care,” said Miss Flint, who was already looking into her recipe-book; “ask any one you choose. But be sure to get eleven; I like to have just twelve at the table.”

“I’ll help you make out a list, dearie, if you want me to,” said Aunt Dorinda.

“No, thank you,” said Ladybird; “the list will be easy enough. I like Edith Fairchild and Bob Sheldon the best, and then I’ll ask the Smith girls and Tom Cooper, – it will be easy enough to get eleven, and they’ll be awfully glad to come.”

“That’s a good child,” said Aunt Dorinda, patting her head; “and if you’re undecided, give the preference to those who will enjoy it most.”

“Yes, ’m,” said Ladybird, a trifle absent-mindedly, for she was trying to make Cloppy stand on his head.

The next morning all of the Flint household, except Ladybird, were busily engaged in preparations for the party, and that light-hearted damsel started out in high spirits to deliver her invitations.

“It seems to me,” she said to herself as she went along, “that my aunts are very good people. I know it’s a trouble to them to have this party, and yet they do it just out of kindness to me, and kindness to these other children that I’m going to invite. I wish I had a kinder heart. Somehow I never think of doing good to people until somebody puts me up to it. But now I’ve got a chance, and I’m in the notion, and I’m just going to invite those that it will do the most good to. I believe I’ll ask Jim Blake; he’s the poorest boy in school, and he’s awful dirty, but I know he’d like to come, and I think that’s what aunty meant. Anyway, she said to invite those who would enjoy it most, and I know Jim would enjoy it like a house afire. I’ll go right to his house and ask him first.”

Arriving at the Blakes’ small and exceedingly unattractive residence, Ladybird entered and seated herself with her most conventional calling manner.

“I’d like to have your son Jim attend my party this afternoon, Mrs. Blake,” she said; and her hostess responded:

“Laws, miss, are you in earnest now? Does your aunts know you’re askin’ him?”

“I’m inviting any one I choose,” said Ladybird; “and I want Jim to come if he’ll enjoy it.”

“Oh, he’ll enjoy it tiptop, miss, and I’m terrible glad to have him go.”

“Then that’s all right,” said Ladybird, joyously. “And I must go now, as I have to invite the others.” But as she reached the door she turned, and added, with a smile that entirely cleared the words of any rude effect, “My aunts are very particular about people’s personal appearance.”

“Oh, never fear,” said Mrs. Blake, comprehendingly, “I’ll redd Jim up until nobody’ll know him.”

Ladybird went away thrilling with an exalted sense of having done a most meritorious act, and eager to let the good work go on.

“It seems to me,” she thought, “that people like Jim Blake will enjoy the party heaps more than the Smiths and Fairchilds, and I’m going to ask all the poor ones I know first, and then fill up with the others. Why, it says in the Bible, when ye make a feast to scoop in the halt and the blind and the maimed and the lamed; and that reminds me, Dick Harris is lame, and so is his grandfather, for that matter. I believe I’ll ask them both; Aunt Priscilla didn’t say I had to have only children. And Mr. Harris got lame in the war, so I’m sure he’ll enjoy it; he’s a veteran G. A. R., and I just know Aunt Priscilla will like him.”

The Harris gentlemen were delighted to accept; and Ladybird gracefully apologized for not inviting the other members of the family by saying, “I’d love to ask you all, but I can only have eleven, and there are so many who seem to need invitations.”

As Ladybird proceeded, her charity grew wider, and finally acknowledged no bounds either social or ethical.

She invited old Miss Leech, who had lost most of her physical and many of her mental faculties; and whose acceptance was unduly delayed because for a long time she could not make out what her excited visitor was driving at.

Next, Ladybird invited two firemen. This she did with mixed motives: partly because she happened to meet them, and their red shirts and shiny helmets attracted her color-loving eye, and partly because she had a vague impression that it was always wise to keep on good terms with firemen. But to her surprise, though evidently highly appreciating the invitation, they positively declined.

This experience moved Ladybird to confine her invitations to younger guests, and she succeeded in securing Sam Scott, an idiot boy, and the widow Taylor’s two small twins. The widow Taylor frankly announced that she would have to accompany the twins, as they were imps of mischief and would destroy everything in sight; but as she seemed so anxious to come, Ladybird concluded she was a most desirable guest.

The Tuckermans, a family of ten, were all clamorous to come, but Ladybird was obliged to select two, as that made her number ten, and she was determined to invite Stella Russell.

Her errands all accomplished, she went home with a light heart, and found her aunts just putting the finishing touches to a daintily set table.

Although buoyed up during the morning by a firm conviction that she was following out her aunts’ wishes in spirit, if not in letter, the incongruity between the pretty table and the forlorn-looking specimens of humanity she had invited to sit at it suddenly came home to her, and she began to doubt whether she had acted wisely after all. So grave was this doubt that she could not bring herself to tell her aunts what she had done.

“Did you invite eleven?” asked Miss Priscilla, who was placing the chairs which Martha brought from other rooms.

“Yes, ’m,” said Ladybird; “and Stella Russell is one of them.”

“Very well,” said Miss Flint; “she seems somewhat old for your party, but she can help entertain the children. Now we will eat our luncheon at the side-table, for I don’t want this one disturbed, and then after that you can dress for the party. You may wear your white cashmere frock with red ribbons, and see that your hair is smooth and tidy. I want you to look as neat as any of your guests.”

“Yes, ’m,” said Ladybird, with a growing conviction that her aunts would not care to practise what they preached, so radically as she had arranged.

“Aunt Priscilla,” she said at luncheon, “perhaps you won’t like some of the people I have invited; but you know you told me to invite those who would enjoy it most.”

“For the land’s sake, Ladybird, what have you been doing now? If you’ve done anything ridiculous, you may as well out with it first as last.”

Like a flash, Ladybird realized that what she had done was ridiculous. Right it might be, charitable it might be, even according to Scripture it might be, but none the less it certainly was ridiculous.

“What is it, dearie?” said Aunt Dorinda, noticing Ladybird’s dismayed countenance. “Whom have you invited?”

“I asked Jim Blake,” said Ladybird, thinking it wise to begin with the least objectionable one.

“Jim Blake!” exclaimed Miss Priscilla. “Why, Lavinia Lovell, whatever possessed you to ask that ragamuffin! I shall send him home as soon as he appears.”

“Why, Aunt Priscilla, he’s perfectly crazy to come, and you said to ask those who would enjoy it most.”

Miss Flint looked utterly exasperated.

“Of course I meant within the bounds of decent society,” she said; “I didn’t suppose you intended to disgrace yourself and your relatives and your home! But never mind now. Go to your room and get dressed, and I will attend to Jim Blake when he arrives.”

“But, aunty – ”