only true!"

Once again the sound came to me, low and restrained, but a sob
unmistakably.

On the other side of the giant tree I beheld a figure half sitting,
half lying. The shadow was deep here, but as I stooped the kindly moon
sent down a shaft of silver light, and I saw a lovely, startled face,
with great, tear-dimmed eyes.

"Lisbeth!" I exclaimed; then, prompted by a sudden thought, I glanced
hastily around.

"I am alone," she said, interpreting my thought aright.

"But--here--and--and at such an hour!" I stammered foolishly. She
seemed to be upon her feet in one movement, fronting me with flashing
eyes.

"I came to look for the Imp. I found this on his pillow. Perhaps you
will explain?" and she handed me a crumpled paper.

DEAR AUNTIE LISBATH: (I read)

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 o