"THE WINDS OF FATE BLOW EVER."

The days fled fast, and brought the balm of hope to aching hearts.

Contrary to the surgeon's verdict, and in spite of a very dangerous wound, Earle Winans was on the road to recovery.

Youth, health, and a superb constitution had triumphed over the circumstances that threatened the close of his young, promising life.

But it was quite three weeks, and far into the middle of June, before he was able to be removed from the Conway cottage up to Rosemont.

In the meantime something had happened that caused Ladybird's exile from the scene of her mischievous triumphs and coquetries.

The story of her novel lottery the night after the picnic had become public property in the village and shared usual notoriety with the duel.

Nothing was talked of but the rivalry between Aura and Ladybird that had been the primary cause of the duel. It became the sensation of the hour. The gaping of the villagers when either of the rival beauties appeared on the streets was so unendurable that even the bold-eyed Aura shrank with dismay, and was fain to remain indoors, although the giving up of her designs on Earle Winans was succeeded by the vaulting ambition to become Lady Chester.

Arthur did indeed call once on the lawyer's daughter, but she made no impression on the heart that already held a fairer image. But he was curious to know the girl who had been the cause of the duel. When he had satisfied his curiosity and laughed in his sleeve over her wasted airs and graces, he retreated from the field, and none of her efforts could inveigle him inside her doors again.

The story of Ladybird's flirtations was well known to everybody else before it reached her father and the Winans family.

Bruce Conway was one of the proudest of men, and although he had been an accomplished flirt in his own day he could not tolerate it in his daughter. The truth horrified him.

If it had been any other girl than Ladybird, his own lovely daughter, he would have laughed in his idle, graceful way at her novel method of doing justice to her lovers, the "heroes," as she termed them—but this came home too nearly.

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.

"I should like to run away. I can never meet him again, cold and altered, loving me no longer," she sobbed on her pillow that night.

And as if in answer to her longing wish a letter came next morning.

It was the next day after her father had declared to Miss Prue that he would place her in a convent school for three years.

She went to him with a smile, her heart beating with hope, and placed the letter in his hand.

"What is it, Ladybird?"

"A letter, papa, from my old schoolmistress, Madame Hartman. She and her husband are going abroad in a week for a summer tour, and they take with them our whole graduated class of last year—ten girls, you know, counting me. She has written to ask if you will permit me to join her party. Will you, papa, dearest?" clinging fondly round his neck. "She chaperoned ten girls abroad last year, and they had such a lovely time—lovely! And if I go I must join madame in Richmond this week."

"You take my breath away, Ladybird, this is so sudden."

"But you will let me go. My heart is quite set on it, papa."

"But, my dear, I had hoped to have you for my guest this summer," said Mrs. Winans, who happened to be present.

"I thank you, but—I would not like to disappoint Madame Hartman," Ladybird murmured, with a break in her voice.

"Then you must be my guest in Washington this winter. I should like to present you to Washington society at the time that Precious comes out. Will you consent, Mr. Conway?"

"Gladly," he answered, and Ladybird went over to kiss the lovely, gentle face, and left a tear on Mrs. Winans' cheek. She did not guess it was for her son's sake.

Bruce Conway was too much pleased with Madame Hartman's opportune offer to decline it, so it was accepted by telegraph, and her father took her to Richmond next day to join her kind teacher. The Winans family saw her go, with loving regrets and confident hopes of a meeting next fall, forgetting how adversely the winds of fate too often blow.