"They warned me that you were a terrible flirt, And bade me beware of your wiles, But rashly I thought to escape any hurt 'Neath the charms of your treacherous smiles. No doubt it is sport honest love to betray-- And I dare say it adds to your fame; Some day you'll repent and own that to play With men's hearts is a dangerous game." --J. ASHBY STERRY. While Lord Chester was fighting his hopeless passion alone out in the dusk and dew of the summer night, his friend Earle was undergoing in the village an experience not entirely dissimilar. Aura Stanley was peeping through the parlor blinds, watching to see if her saucy rival next door had any callers. She murmured curiously: "Ladybird must be having a party to-night, there are so many people going in--only they all seem to be men." Curiosity overcame Aura's prudence, and stealing into the Conways' gate she hid herself in the screen of vines over the pretty bay window looking into the parlor. She peered curiously through the lace curtains, and barely escaped betraying herself by a loud cry. She beheld in the pretty little parlor thirteen young men--Ladybird's "baker's dozen" of lovers--some sitting, some standing, some conversing, but all with an uneasy air of expectancy. "What can they want, all together?" she mused curiously. At that moment Ladybird entered and stood smiling among her guests. Never had the bewitching little fairy looked more charming. She wore a soft white gown in the empire style, her exquisite neck and arms half-bared and gleaming through ruffles of fine white lace. At her waist was a bunch of white and purple lilacs, breathing the sweetness and freshness of the spring. Her only ornament was a light gold chain with a small heart-shaped locket. Aura's jealous gaze, devouring her lovely, piquant rival, saw in the dainty dimpled hand a bundle of letters, at which she glanced smilingly as she spoke: "How good and sweet of you all to come as my messenger asked you. But I know you're all wondering why I asked you to come at the same time." A husky murmur came from several throats, and Aura saw that they were all getting secretly uneasy. Ladybird continued in a demure little voice that trembled with repressed laughter, like the music of an unseen brook in leafy June: "I am the laziest girl in the world, gentlemen--that is part of the explanation. To-day I received thirteen letters--one from each of you--and each begging for the favor of an immediate reply. Only think of the labor of writing so many answers on a warm spring day! So I thought it would be easier to reply to them personally." Oh, the tremor of the demure voice, with its ripple of hushed laughter, the childish _diablerie_ of the amber eyes beneath their long curling lashes of golden brown! But there seemed to be a general uneasiness among her guests as they stood about, listening to the little siren.