The surgeon had pronounced that life still lingered, although he believed the wound to be a fatal one. But he added that to remove the young man to Rosemont, two miles away, would destroy the last lingering spark of life. He must be carried on a stretcher to the nearest house, then medical skill would do all that was possible. While he talked he had extracted the bullet from Earle's breast and stanched the flow of blood. He looked up and saw a stranger by his side, a dark, elegant-looking man past middle age. "Doctor Holdsworth, I am Bruce Conway, an old friend of the Winans family. My home is less than half a mile away, and almost the nearest to this spot. He can be taken there if you please," he said. "Very well," the surgeon answered briefly, and accordingly Earle was carried gently to the cottage and installed in Bruce Conway's own room. Ladybird was still asleep, or she would have gone wild with the horror of seeing Earle carried into the house on a stretcher, and apparently dead. She slept on through all the subdued noise and bustle, for she had been wakeful last night and sobbed herself to sleep at last, poor, willful child, so that when she awoke the sun rode high in the heavens, and Aunt Prue was tiptoeing about with a very important air. She came to the bed, took Ladybird's little hands in hers and said, seriously and anxiously: "Ladybird, I have bad news for thee, but thee must not scream out; thee must bear it very bravely and gently. A man lies wounded in thy father's chamber, and his life hangs on the slenderest thread. There was a duel at sunrise this morning between two of thy lovers, Jack Tennant and Earle Winans. One fired into the air, the other at his enemy's breast; one fled, the other your father brought here." "Earle!" moaned the girl's white lips, and the brown eyes shut heavily, while the rose-tint fled the dimpled cheek. Aunt Prue thought she had fainted, but presently the girlish bosom began to heave beneath its soft white robe, and Ladybird sobbed: "My heart is broken!" "Dear, tell me, did thee have aught to do with this sad affair? Was it thy fault?" "Oh, I don't know. I can't tell. Don't ask me anything, Auntie Prue. Let me lie here and die of remorse as I deserve!" sobbed Ladybird hysterically, for she knew nothing of the cause of the duel and feared that her own coquetry was at the bottom of it all. No coaxing could prevail on her to rise, so presently Aunt Prue had to leave her there sobbing forlornly on her pillow. "Perhaps her father can comfort her," thought the distressed old lady, and went in search of him. But Bruce Conway had already gone on a mission of comfort. Lord Chester asked him to carry the sad news up to Rosemont. Conway performed his task as gently as he could, but Precious of course was greatly shocked.