"But, Auntie Prue, he's my lover now. Doesn't he call on me three times a week, and send me flowers and books and candy? And hasn't he promised to escort me to the picnic to-morrow?"
"He asked me first, but I refused," cried Aura triumphantly, and added spitefully: "I wouldn't take what another girl refused."
"Neither would I!" flashed Ladybird, with such sarcastic emphasis that Aura flushed burning red at the intimation that she had told a falsehood.
"Girls, girls, don't thee quarrel over nothing!" cried the old Quakeress anxiously, but Aura was furious.
"Ladybird Conway, I'll never speak to you again," she cried, and flew down the graveled path, shutting the front gate with a vicious slam.
Aunt Prue cried out reprovingly:
"Thee has lost thy young friend forever, Ladybird, and thee ought to be ashamed of thyself, taking another girl's lover so audaciously."
"But he isn't hers—so there! I know, because I asked him. I said she claimed him, and if that was so not to come to see me any more. But he denied it. He said he had only known her two weeks when we moved here, and had no idea of being engaged to her. He lent her the ring because she asked him to, and she's only trying to claim him to vex me," and the lovely face, with its dancing hazel eyes and lilies and roses, looked quite earnest for a moment.
"But, child, thee ain't in love with this Earle Winans? Thee ain't thinking of marrying him, dear?"
Willful Ladybird smiled and blushed, and answered roguishly: