t!" she said, and laid her hand upon my lips, which I
immediately imprisoned there, but for a moment only; the next it was
snatched away as there came the unmistakable sound of some one
approaching.

"Come along, Auntie Lisbeth," whispered the Imp, "fear not, we'll
rescue you."

Oh! surely there was magic in the air to-night; for, with a swift,
dexterous movement, Lisbeth had swept her long train across her arm,
and we were running hand in hand, all three of us, running across lawns
and down winding paths between yew hedges, sometimes so close together
that I could feel a tress of her fragrant hair brushing my face with a
touch almost like a caress. Surely, surely, there was magic in the air
to-night!

Suddenly Lisbeth stopped, flushed and panting.

"Well!" she exclaimed, staring from me to the Imp, and back again, "was
ever anything so mad!"

"Everything is mad to-night," I said; "it's the moon!"

"To think of my running away like this with two--two--"

"Interlopers," I suggested.

"I really ought to be very, very angry with you--both of you, she said,
trying to frown.

"No, don't be angry with us, Auntie Lisbeth," pleaded the Imp, "'cause
you are a lovely lady in a castle grim, an' we are two gallant knights,
so we had to come an' rescue you; an' you never came to kiss me
good-night, an' I'm awfull' sorry 'bout painting Dorothy's
face--really!"

"Imp," cried Lisbeth, falling on her knees regardless of her silks and
laces, "Imp, come and kiss me." The Imp drew out a decidedly grubby
handkerchief, and, having rubbed his lips with it, obeyed.

"Now, Uncle Dick!" he said, and offered me the grubby handkerchief.
Lisbeth actually blushed.

"Reginald!" she exclaimed, "whatever put such an idea into your head?"

"Oh! everybody's always kissing somebody you know," he nodded; "an'
it's Uncle Dick's turn now."

Lisbeth rose from her knees and began to pat her rebellious hair into
order. Now, as she raised her arms, her shawl very naturally slipped
to the ground; and standing there, with her eyes laughing up at me
beneath their dark lashes, with the moonlight in her hair, and gleaming
upon the snow of her neck and shoulders, she had never seemed quite so
bewilderingly, temptingly beautiful before.

"Dick," she said, "I must go back at once--before they miss me."

"Go back!" I repeated, "never--that is, not yet."

"But suppose any one saw us!" she said, with a hairpin in her mouth.

"They shan't," I answ