A MADCAP'S PRANK.

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.

She went on calmly, with lowered lids and a rising flush:

"I have here thirteen proposals of marriage—one from each of you. It is most flattering to me, for I esteem you all. You are all heroes except Mr. Winans," with a naughty bow in Earle's direction. "I like you all, but there is only one Ladybird, so twelve of you must be disappointed."

Aura Stanley, from her ambush, heard twelve distinct sighs, and shook with envious rage.

"The simpletons!" she muttered. "Why don't they go home? Can't they see that she is just turning them into ridicule to please her wicked vanity?"

But surprise and curiosity combined kept Ladybird's lovers standing like statues awaiting the end.

"I wish now that only one of you had jumped in the river to save me yesterday!" cried Ladybird wistfully. "Then I would have accepted the hero's offer. Now there's only one way out of my dilemma."

At their surprised looks the willful girl smiled entrancingly and murmured:

"You shall all draw lots for me. Mr. Gray, your hat, please. See, here are thirteen slips of paper—one with my name, and twelve blank. You may each draw one slip. Marriage is a lottery, I've often heard, so this may turn out as well as any."

It was ridiculous, farcical, but the mischievous elf seemed in such positive earnest that twelve of her adorers entered smilingly into the spirit of the novel lottery.

Not so with Earle Winans. He stood aloof, amazed, insulted, his eyes flashing.

"There remains only one slip," Ladybird said in a tremulous voice, and she looked at him.

Earle had drawn near to the door. He turned his angry eyes on her fair wistful face, and his glance expressed cold contempt.

"I beg your pardon. I decline," he said haughtily.

"As you please," she answered coolly, and turned over the remaining strip.

It bore her own name!

When Earle saw that he started forward as though to retract his rash words and win her yet.

But Ladybird had already turned her back on him, and shrugging her willful shoulders she laughed:

"The prize is left in the bottom, like the evils in Pandora's box."

"Ah, but the lottery wasn't fair, since Mr. Winans refused to draw. Let us try it over again!" cried Mark Gwinn eagerly.

"Very well," she answered lightly, but the mirth had gone out of her voice. It was low and tremulous, for Ladybird knew now she was vanquished by those grim sisters, the Fates.

They tried again, and the slip with her name fell to Jack Tennant.

"I am the most fortunate man in the whole world!" cried the winner with beaming eyes.

Ladybird laughed merrily and cried out quickly:

"But there is a condition attached to the prize that I forgot to mention at first. It is that you will have to wait ten years for me!"

"Ten years is an eternity!" he exclaimed remonstratingly.

"You think so?" she cried saucily. "Then I will not hold you bound to marry me."

"But I shall hold your promise, Ladybird, for I would wait twenty years for such a prize!" protested the young man gallantly.

Every one laughed except Earle Winans. He bowed coldly to his hostess and withdrew from the room.

The others followed quickly, and the last sound they heard was Ladybird's gay laughter as she cried out mockingly:

"I invite you all to my wedding with Mr. Tennant ten years hence!"

They were gone, but Aura lingered, waiting to see what the whimsical little madcap would do next; no doubt, though, she would laugh at her victims.

But Ladybird staggered to a sofa and fell upon it with her face hidden on her arm. Then a low grieved sob broke the stillness of the room that had so lately echoed her mocking laughter.

She had humiliated Earle Winans, punished him as she had vowed to do in her childish resentment. But was the triumph sweet?

Aura thought not as she saw the white shoulders heaving with a storm of smothered sobs.

"She threw Earle's heart away, and now she is sorry," thought Aura, and fled back to her home somewhat comforted by the thought that all was over between Earle and Miss Conway. She would try to win him now herself while he was angry with the pretty coquette.

Earle was indeed very angry as he walked slowly toward his own home, leaving the twinkling village lights behind him in the distance.

He had received such a cruel shock that he could not tell whether he loved or hated Ladybird most.

With a heart full of love he had written to her that morning, asking leave to call that evening for the answer she had promised when he asked her to wear his ring.

She had answered with one simple little word: "Come."

"And I went for—what?" he growled furiously to himself; "to be made a fool of with a dozen other idiots—puppets that she pulled with a string!" and he gnashed his white teeth in rage.

But he knew that he had had his triumph, too. He had seen her quail momentarily at his proud refusal. He knew that she was wounded.

"She could not bend Earle Winans' proud spirit, and that will be a thorn in her pillow to-night," he laughed harshly.

He sat down inside the Rosemont grounds and bared his feverish brow to the cool, fragrant night. In the stillness a whip-poor-will called from a thicket in its eerie voice, and another replied so near at hand that he started with an uncanny thrill.

"I shall get the dismals if I stay here," rising impatiently. "Heigho! I wish I had never come to Rosemont, never met this romantic little maiden with her silly love-tests and her abominable coquetries! Well, I am done with her forever. But what would my friends all say if they knew that Earle Winans had been vanquished by a little village beauty? And how am I to keep it from Lord Chester?"

He flushed hotly out there in the dark, for he detested ridicule.

"I must swear Chester to secrecy," he decided. "Ah, how I wish I had never come down to Virginia! I'll leave here to-morrow, and go abroad again in a week. That is," with a start, "if I am alive to-morrow."

For he had suddenly remembered that at sunrise to-morrow he was to fight a duel with pistols with Jack Tennant, who had declined to apologize for his hasty blow at the picnic.