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.