"Oh, nonsense, Aunt Prue; there is no harm in being pretty, and she has always been an obedient child."
"But she is so young, Bruce, and she has lovers by the dozen. They call her the village belle. I don't like it."
"She's only amusing herself, the little wild bird. It's pleasant to be pretty and popular. I don't suppose she has an idea of marrying any of those dozen lovers," laughed Bruce carelessly.
"Yes, there's one—she says she likes him best of all; but I don't know if she means it, she is so teasing. His name is Earle Winans."
"Earle Winans!" and the languid, elegant gentleman started up, alert and eager. "Earle Winans!" he repeated.
"Yes, that is his name. His father is a great statesman, and his mother owns Rosemont. He is very rich, this young man, and very much in love with our Ladybird."
"Ah!" and he rose and crossed over to the window with his face averted. She thought him careless of the subject, but he was thinking excitedly:
"So our life-paths cross again after long years in this strange fashion! Her son in love with my daughter!"
He was stirred in a most subtle fashion.