“I am sure you will; but I must first think it over, and in the morning I will confide my plans to you before we start for the picnic. And I’ll call at the carpenter’s cottage this evening. She is always on the porch with her guitar. I’ll get in her good graces so that I can monopolize her company to-morrow, and make him think he has no show with her at all. I’ll throw in some little fibs, too, that he’s engaged to you, etc., so that she will shun him.” “Yes, Otho, I see. That is a splendid idea, and easy to carry out. Oh, how I thank you for your clever help all through!” she cried, in a transport of joy and gratitude. Otho accepted the praise complacently, but he knew he was working more for himself than for her. It would be a most delightful part to play, the making love to Floy, and as for the rest, he was heart and soul in the scheme to win a millionaire for his brother-in-law. He was selfish and extravagant, and always in hot water with his father about money, so when Maybelle secured her prize he would make her pay a heavy price for his help. CHAPTER IV. WHY DID SHE DO IT? The next morning dawned gloriously, and in due time the carriages reached the picnic-grounds--just a mile past Suicide Place--a picturesque grove on the banks of a river. There was a pavilion and music for dancing, with every device for pleasure. And Floy was there with the rest, charming in a white duck suit and big hat, self-possessed as a young princess, and not one whit abashed when Otho led her to his party, and said, graciously: “You know my sister Maybelle, don’t you? She has been away a great deal lately, but she remembers little Fly-away Floy, and this is my friend, Mr. St. George Beresford.” They all bowed graciously, and then the quartet sat down together on the river-bank, for all this condescension was the plot that wicked Otho had unfolded to his sister that morning. Other couples joined them, while some danced in the pavilion, and still others swung in the hammocks under the shady trees. They talked lightly and desultory on frothy subjects, as people at picnics usually do, and barely any one but Beresford remembered afterward that it was Otho Maury who started the subject of bravery and courage, and contrasted the difference in man and woman on these qualities of mind and strength. He exclaimed, finally: “I adore courage and bravery in man or woman. Indeed, I would not marry a girl who was a coward--who ran shrieking from a mouse, or trembled at the thought of a burglar--but I could worship a fearless girl; such a one, for instance, as would dare to spend a night alone in a haunted house.” The pretty girls who heard him all shrieked and shuddered with dismay--all except Floy, who shrugged her pretty shoulders, and said, vivaciously: “Pshaw! that is not any great thing to do. I shouldn’t be afraid to stay in a haunted house all night.” “Aren’t you afraid of ghosts, like most young girls?” asked Otho, incredulously.