He recalled with a groan his pleasant hopes and fancies built on his daughter's preference for Earle Winans. Then he muttered: "Engaged to a fellow I never saw! A village lawyer's clerk! That Jack Tennant! Won in a lottery--my daughter! Good heavens! how careless and thoughtless I have been, taking my own way and letting Ladybird take hers. Otherwise this never could have happened." For the most of his life Bruce Conway had taken things easily, and life had gone easy with him, but here was something that shook him up, as it were. He had a long talk with Miss Prudence Primrose, during which she said so often, "I told thee so, Bruce, I told thee so," that it almost drove him mad. "But what can I do with her? How restrain her in the future, even if she ever lives down the notoriety of this ridiculous prank?" he groaned. Miss Prue sighed helplessly, then a bright thought came to her, and she suggested: "Why not consult my good friend, Mrs. Winans? She has raised up two gentle daughters very properly." "No, Prue, I cannot consult Mrs. Winans. You forget how shamefully Ladybird has treated her son. If it comes to her ears, as it must, she will resent the indignity to her son, who inherits all his father's pride and nobility. The affection she cherishes for Ladybird now will perhaps change into disgust. I cannot tell what to do with the little madcap, but I can tell you, Aunt Prue, a widower with a coquettish daughter on his hands is an object to be pitied." Miss Prue did not pity him much. She thought he had neglected his pretty, motherless child all along, and valued his own ease too highly. Now he was reaping the fit reward for his carelessness. "I will send her to a convent school till she's twenty, that's what I'll do," he declared irritably. But suddenly Ladybird took the matter into her own hands. The little beauty had been secretly very unhappy ever since the night when her willful prank had so deeply offended Earle's proud heart and reared that wall of ice between them. Up at Rosemont every one believed her perfectly happy, and none dreamed of her love and sorrow over Earle, who might die and never forgive her for the wrong she had done him. Everyone loved and petted her, from the stately senator and his lovely daughters down to the lowest menial on the grand estate. As for gentle Mrs. Winans, she had a deep and silent love, maternal in its strength, for the winsome child of her dear dead friend, bonny Lulu. Ladybird knew well how they loved her, and her heart thrilled with love for them, but always there was the haunting thought that when Earle should tell them of her coquettish wiles they would despise her ever after. "And that would break my heart," she sighed tearfully. So when Earle was declared out of danger she began to shrink at the very thought of meeting him again. The memory of his last proud look of resentful scorn remained always in her thoughts.