"Fine!" broke in the Imp. "He used to fight dragons, you know."
"And he lived in a palace of crystal," continued Dorothy, "and he was so good and kind that the birds used to make friends with him!"
"An' he wore gold armour, an' a big feather in his helmet!" supplemented the Imp.
"And of course he loved the beautiful princess," I ended.
"Yes," nodded Dorothy; "but how did you know there was a beautiful princess?"
"Uncle Dick knows everything, of course," returned the Imp sententiously.
"Do you think the beautiful princess loved the prince, Dorothy?" I asked, glancing at Lisbeth's averted face.
"Well," answered Dorothy, pursing her mouth thoughtfully, "I don't know, Uncle Dick; you see, Auntie hasn't got to that yet, but everybody loves somebody sometime, you know. Betty—she's our cook, you know—Betty says all nice tales end up in marrying and living happy ever after."
"Not a doubt of it," said I, resting on my oars. "What do you think, Lisbeth?" She leaned back and regarded me demurely beneath her long lashes for a moment.
"I think," she answered, "that it would be much nicer if you would go on rowing."