"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?"