"You are too good and kind to me, dear Mrs. Winans, for you surely cannot know how dreadfully I behaved to your son, or you would not wish me to live under the same roof with him. You would despise me as much as he does if you knew how silly I am, and that I threw his love away just to show my power over a dozen grinning idiots that I disliked in my heart. I was a wicked little flirt, so happy and careless that I did not know how badly I was behaving until Earle's scorn stung me into a realization of the truth. Now I repent, but it is too late. I know he can never forgive me, so how could I dare become an inmate of your home? I know that the sight of me would be hateful to him, perhaps drive him from his home. "I have thought it all over and decided that it is best to stay where I am, although these people are harsh and unloving. But, after all the past, it would not be right for me to come to you. Though I adore you all, I am rightly punished for my faults by being forced to remain here. So leave me to my fate, and trouble yourself no more over the misfortunes of unhappy LADYBIRD." Perhaps it was treason to her impulsive young correspondent, but when Earle arrived the next day Mamma Winans lost no time in showing him the letter. When she saw the glow of joy in his dark eyes she knew that her boy's love was still faithful to his willful little sweetheart, who had suffered so much for her girl's romance. "You will forgive her, Earle?" she cried anxiously, and his smile answered her without word. "Darling, I knew you would!" she cried joyously, running her slender fingers through his crown of dark curls and bending his head back against her arm to kiss the noble white brow. Then they talked together over the possibility of seeing Ladybird. They agreed that it must be done by strategy. There would be no use to write to her, for the jealous Aura would be sure to intercept the letter. Earle was boyishly happy and hopeful. "So you would advise me to marry Ladybird, as her only means of escape from her wicked guardian?" he laughed. "Very well, little mamma, we will see what we can do to deliver the princess from prison! Leave it all to me. I will take Lord Chester into my confidence, and between us we will try to outwit the Stanleys in their game of revenge!" The week succeeding Lord Chester's return passed in a whirl of receptions, cotillions, and opera parties, and at each one he saw Precious the center of attraction, her smiles eagerly competed for, her words listened to as though each one was a jewel dropped from her lovely lips. He did not wonder that they almost fought for the prize of that fair little hand. It seemed to him, in the madness of his hopeless, silent love, that he would have been willing to lay down his life for the pleasure of calling her his own even one short hour. In his heart was all the passion of the poet's plaint: