"Really, Miss Conway, I hope I am always brave enough to rescue any one in real danger, but I don't see any heroism in wetting one's self to rescue a girl from the river who threw herself in for fun, and who can swim as well as anybody!" "Fun, indeed? How dare you say it, when I was almost drowned?" sobbed the little coquette perversely. "Not a bit of danger!" laughed the young man, amused at her pretense of anger. "Ah, Ladybird, no man could love you better than I do; but, indeed, you are a vain little darling, and ought to be ashamed of your little joke that caused the ruination of twelve good flannel suits and sashes. Don't you know, you willful little flirt, that they will be shrunk to the size of bathing suits? And all to gratify a whim of yours! Ah, little one, it was cleverly done, but no one but myself guesses it was a ruse. I saw you throw yourself out of the boat. I saw you dive, and I remembered then your little hint about heroes awhile before. It was all make-believe, little Miss Mischief, even your pretense of unconsciousness, when Jack Tennant pulled you out. As you lay on the bank I saw your eyelids twitch and your lips curl with secret amusement. You can't deny it, Ladybird." But Ladybird would not meet the quizzical glance of the laughing dark eyes. Her bosom heaved with wounded pride as she thought how Aura Stanley would triumph over her defeat. Ladybird had been reared in a boarding-school, and had imbibed all sorts of romantic fancies from surreptitious novels. Earle Winans' failure to realize her ideal of a hero had almost broken her tender little heart. So she would not be laughed or coaxed into a good humor. She pouted charmingly and willfully, and at length she sobbed angrily: "You may think it very amusing to tease me so, Earle Winans, but I will make you sorry for to-day before the week is out!" and as they drew rein just then at her father's door, she sprang hastily out on the pavement and ran into the house without a word of thanks or good-by. "Whew! what a tantrum! but the dear little heart will forget and forgive by to-morrow," thought Earle, as he drove back home to tell Norah that he expected a guest in the morning--Lord Chester, who would stay at Rosemont a day or two. He did not tell her that he had telegraphed for his friend to come, much less that he wanted him to act as his second in a duel. But Jack Tennant's blow was one that Earle's fiery heart would never forgive without an apology. He had determined to challenge him, and he would not ask any of the young men in Rosemont to carry the message. He wanted Lord Chester. He believed that Ethel held the young nobleman's heart; he did not dream of danger to the fair young sister whose waist he clasped with a loving arm as she stood by him on the piazza while he told Norah to prepare the finest rooms in the house for the coming guest.