n to say--" began Lisbeth.

"Fed him regularly twice a day," I went on, "and nearly famished
himself in the doing of it--you remember the dry-bread incident?"

"Imp!" cried Lisbeth; "Imp!" And she had him next moment in her arms.

"But Uncle Dick gave him a whole sovereign, you know," he began; "an'--"

"I sent him to a certain house, Lisbeth," I said, as her eyes met mine;
"an old house that stands not far from the village of Down, in Kent, to
prune the roses and things. I should like it to be looking its best
when we get there; and--"

"An' my outlaw kissed Uncle Dick's hand," pursued the Imp. "Don't you
think he must love him an awful lot?"

"I gave him a month to do it in," I went on; "but a month seems much
too long when one comes to consider--what do you think, Lisbeth?"

"I think that I hear the wheels of the dog-cart!" she cried. Sure
enough, a moment later Peter hove in view, and great was his
astonishment at sight of "Master Reginald."

"Peter," I said, "Miss Elizabeth has changed her mind, and will walk
back with us; and--er--by the way, I understand that Master Reginald
purchased a coat, a shirt, and a pair of trousers of you, for which he
has already paid a deposit of sixpence. Now, if you will let me know
their value--"

"That's hall right, Mr. Brent, sir. Betwixt you and me, sir, they
wasn't up to much, nohow, the coat being tightish, sir--tightish--and
the trousis uncommon short in the leg for a man o' my hinches, sir."

"Nevertheless," said I, "a coat's a coat, and a pair of trousers are
indubitably a pair of trousers, and nothing can alter the fact; so if
you will send me in a bill some time I shall be glad."

"Very good, Mr. Brent, sir." Saying which Peter touched his hat and
turning, drove away.

"Now," I said as I rejoined Lisbeth and the Imp, "I shall be glad if
you will tell me how long it should take for my garden to look fair
enough to welcome you?"

"Oh, well, it depends upon the gardener, and the weather, and--and
heaps of things," she answered, flashing her dimple at me.

"On the contrary," I retorted, shaking my head, "it depends altogether
upon the whim of the most beautiful, tempting--"

"Supposing," sighed Lisbeth, "supposing we talk of fish!"

"You haven't been fishing lately, Uncle Dick," put in the Imp.

"I've had no cause to," I answered; "you see, I am guilty of such
things only when life assumes a grey monotony of hue and everything is
a flat, dreary deso