Lisbeth sighed and turned towards me, but as she did so I felt a tug at my coat, and, looking round, beheld the Imp.
“Uncle Dick,” he said, his eyes studiously averted, doubtless on account of the position of my arm, “here’s Mr. Selwyn!”
With a sudden exclamation Lisbeth started from me and gathered up her skirts to run.
“Whereaway, my Imp?”
“Coming across the lawn.”
“Reginald,” I said, solemnly, listen to me; you must sally out upon him with lance in rest, tell him you are a Knight-errant, wishful to uphold the glory of that faire ladye, your Auntie Lisbeth, and whatever happens you must manage to keep him away from here, do you understand?” “Yes, only I do wish I’d brought my trusty sword, you know,” he sighed.
“Never mind that now, Imp.”
“Will Auntie Lisbeth be quite - “
“She will be all right.”
“I suppose if you put your arm - “
“Never mind my arm, Imp, go!”
“Then fare thee well!” said he, and with a melodramatic flourish of his lance, trotted off.
“What did he mean about your arm, Dick?”
“Probably this!” I answered, slipping it around her again.
“But you must get away at once,” whispered Lisbeth; “if Mr. Selwyn should see you - “
“I intend that he shall. Oh, it will be quite simple; while he is talking to me you can get back to the - “
“Hush!” she whispered, laying her fingers on my lips; “listen!”
“Hallo, Mr. Selwyn!” came in the Imp’s familiar tones.
“Why, good Heavens!” exclaimed another voice, much too near to be pleasant, “what on earth are you doing here - and at this time of night?”
“Looking for base varlets!”
“Don’t you know that all little boys - all nice little boys - should have been in bed hours ago?”
“But I’m not a nice little boy; I’m a Knight-errant; would you like to get a lance, Mr. Selwyn, an’ break it with me to the glory of my Auntie Lisbeth?”
“The question is, what has become of her?” said Mr. Selwyn. We waited almost breathlessly for the answer.
“Oh! I ‘specks she’s somewhere looking at the moon; everybody looks at the moon, you know; Betty does, an’ the lady with the man with a funny name ‘bout being bald, an’-“
“I think you had better come up to the house,” said Mr. Se1wyn.
“Do you think you could get me an ice cream if I did?” asked the Imp, persuasively; “nice an’ pink, you know, with - “
“An ice!” repeated Mr. Selwyn; “I wonder how many you have had already to-night?”
The time for action was come. “Lisbeth,” I said, “we must go; such happiness as this could not last; how should it? I think it is given us to dream over in less happy days. For me it will be a memory to treasure always, and yet there might be one thing more - a little thing Lisbeth - can you guess?” She did not speak, but I saw the dimple come and go at the corner of her mouth, so I stooped and kissed her. For a moment, all too brief, we stood thus, with the glory of the moonlight about us; then I was hurrying across the lawn after Selwyn and the Imp.
“Ah, Mr. Selwyn!” I said as I overtook them, “so you have found him, have you?” Mr. Selwyn turned to regard me, surprise writ large upon him, from the points of his immaculate, patent-leather shoes, to the parting of his no less immaculate hair.
“So very good of you,” I continued; “you see he is such a difficult object to recover when once he gets mislaid; really, I’m awfully obliged.” Mr. Selwyn’s attitude was politely formal. He bowed.
“What is it to-night,” he inquired, “pirates?”
“Hardly so bad as that,” I returned; “to-night the air is full of the clash of armour and the ring of steel; if you do not hear it that is not our fault.”
“An’ the woods are full of caddish barons and caitiff knaves, you know, aren’t they, Uncle Dick?”
“Certainly,” I nodded, with lance and spear-point twinkling through the gloom, but in the silver glory of the moon, Mr. Selwyn, walk errant damozels and ladyes faire, and again, if you don’t see them, the loss is yours.” As I spoke, away upon the terrace a grey shadow paused a moment ere it was swallowed in the brilliance of the ball- room; seeing which I did not mind the slightly superior smile that curved Mr. Selwyn’s very precise moustache; after all, my rhapsody had not been altogether thrown away. As I ended, the opening bars of a waltz floated out to us. Mr. Selwyn glanced back over his shoulder.
“Ah! I suppose you can find your way out?” he inquired.
“Oh, yes, thanks.”
“Then if you will excuse me, I think I’ll leave you to - ah - to do it; the next dance is beginning, and - ah - “
“Certainly,” I said, “of course - good-night, and much obliged - really!” Mr. Selwyn bowed, and, turning away,
