"You see, I had to explain," I answered very humbly; "I really couldn't allow this poor child to bear the blame of my fault—"
"I'm not a 'poor child,' Uncle Dick," expostulated the Imp; "I'm a gallant knight and—"
"—The blame of my fault, Lisbeth," I continued, "I alone must face your just resentment, for—"
"Hush!" she whispered, glancing hastily about.
"—For, by means of a ladder, Lisbeth, a common or garden ladder—"
"Oh, do be quiet!" 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!"