Unkel dick is going away bekors he is in luv with you and you are angry
with the Blasted oke, where I hid yore stokkings if you want to kiss me
and be kind to me again, come to me bekors I want someboddie to be nice
to me now he is gone.
yore luving sorry IMP.
P.S. He said he would like to hang himself in his sword-belt to the
arm of yonder tree and hurl himself from yon topmost pinnakel, so I no
he is in luv with you.
"Oh, blessed Imp!"
"And now where is he?" she demanded.
"Lisbeth, I don't know."
"You don't know! Then why are you here?"
For answer I held out the letter I had found, and watched while she
read the words I could not believe.
Her hat was off, and the moon made wonderful lights in the coils of her
black hair. She was wearing an indoor gown of some thin material that
clung, boldly revealing the gracious lines of her supple figure, and in
the magic of the moon she seemed some young goddess of the woods--tall
and fair and strong, yet infinitely womanly.
Now as she finished reading she turned suddenly away, yet not before I
had seen the tell-tale colour glowing in her cheeks--a slow wave which
surged over her from brow to chin, and chin to the round, white column
of her throat.
And she said, "O Dick, I want you so!" I read aloud.
"Oh," Lisbeth murmured.
"Lisbeth, is it true?"
She stood with her face averted, twisting the letter in her fingers.
"Lisbeth!" I said, and took a step nearer. Still she did not speak,
but her hands came out to me with a swift, passionate gesture, and her
eyes looked into mine; and surely none were ever more sweet, with the
new shyness in their depths and the tears glistening on their lashes.
And in that moment Doubt and Fear were swallowed up in a great joy, and
I forgot all things save that Lisbeth was before me and that I loved
her. The moon, risen now, had made a broad path of silver across the
shadowy river to our very feet, and I remembered how the Imp had once
told me that it was there for the moon fairies to come down by when
they bring us happy dreams. Surely, the air was full of moon fairies
to-night.
"O Imp, thrice blessed Imp!"
"But--but Selwyn?" I groaned at last.
"Well?"
"If you love him--"
"But I don't!"
"But if you are to marry him--"
"But I'm not! I was going to tell you so in the orchard yesterday, but
you gave me no chance; you preferred to guess, and, of course, guessed
wrong altogether. I knew it made you wretched, and I was glad of it
and meant to keep you so a long, long time; but when I looked up and
saw you standing there so very, very miserable, Dick, I couldn't keep
it up any longer, because I was so dreadfully wretched myself, you
know."
"Can you ever forgive me?"
"That depends, Dick."
"On what?"
Lisbeth stooped, and picking up her hat, began to put it on.
"Depends on what?" I repeated.
Her hat was on now, but for a while she did not answer, her eyes upon
the "fairy path." When at last she spoke her voice was very low and
tender.
"'Not far from the village of Down, in Kent, there is a house,'" she
began, "'a very old house, with pointed gables and pannelled chambers,
but empty to-night and desolate.' You see I remember it all," she
broke off.
"Yes, you remember it all," I repeated, wondering.
"Dick--I--I want you to--take me there. I've thought of it all so
often. Take me there, Dick."
"Lisbeth, do you mean it?"
"It has been the dream of my life for a long time now--to work for you
there, to take care of you, Dick--you need such a deal, such a great
deal of taking care of--to walk with you in the old rose garden; but
I'm a beggar now, you know, though I sha'n't mind a bit if--if you want
me, Dick."
"Want you!" I cried, and with the words I drew her close and kissed
her. Now, from somewhere in the tree above came a sudden crack and
mighty snapping of twigs.
"All right, Uncle Dick!" cried a voice; "it's only the branch. Don't
worry."
"Imp!" I exclaimed.
"I'm coming, Uncle Dick," he answered, and with much exertion and heavy
breathing he presently emerged into view and squirmed himself safely to
earth. For a moment he stood looking from one to the other of us, then
he turned to Lisbeth.
"Won't you forgive me, too, Auntie Lisbeth, please?" he said.
"Forgive you!" she cried, and falling on her knees, gathered him in her
arms.
"I'm glad I didn't go to Persia, after all, Uncle Dick," he said over
her shoulder.
"Persia!" repeated Lisbeth, wonderingly.
"Oh, yes; you were so angry with Uncle Dick an' me--so frightfull'
angry, you know, that I was going to try to find the 'wonderful lamp'
so I could wish everything all right again an' all of us 'live happy
ever after'; but the blasted oak did just as well, an' was nicer,
somehow, wasn't it?"
"Infinitely nicer," I answered.
"An' you will never be angry with Uncle Dick or me any more, will you,
auntie--that is, not frightfull' angry, you know?"
"Never any more, dear."
"On your honour?"
"On my honour!"
"So help you Sam?"
"So help me Sam!" she repeated, smiling, but there were tears in her
voice.
Very gravely the Imp drew his "trusty sword," which she, following his
instructions, obediently kissed.
"And now," cried he, "we are all happy again, aren't we?"
"More happy than I ever hoped or dreamed to be," answered Lisbeth,
still upon her knees; "and oh, Imp--dear little Imp, come and kiss me."