"Why, Auntie Prue, of course I intend to get married some time; I don't want to be an old maid like you; but I mean to marry the man that loves me best."
"The one that loves thee best? But, child, how can thee guess that out of thirteen lovers?"
"Oh, I have a grand plan to test all my lovers—at the picnic to-morrow!" and the fair face dimpled all over with mischievous laughter.
"Are they all going—the thirteen? Thee will not have any peace, child, and the other girls will be jealous."
"I don't care. It's such fun to have so many admirers showing me attention at the same time," laughed the little incarnation of sunny beauty and unconscious cruelty.
"But it's cruel to make the young men suffer so!" hazarded the kind-hearted old lady, and again the girl laughed archly:
"Suffer? Oh, pshaw! they need to have the conceit taken out of them," and Ladybird began to run over the category of the faults and foibles of her admirers, making such sarcastic hits that the old Quakeress shook with silent laughter and gave up her futile lecture on coquetry.
But when the girl paused for breath, all rosy and laughing, Aunt Prue exclaimed:
"Thee hasn't said a word about thy last lover—about Earle Winans."
"My thirteenth lover. Oh, no, I have no fault to find with him. He is simply perfect," cried Ladybird, as innocently as if she had not guessed that Aura Stanley was listening behind her parlor blinds to every word.