"It certainly is more pleasant out here!" he was saying.
Lisbeth came straight towards the cap--it was a moral impossibility that she could fail to see it--yet she sank into her chair without word or sign. Mr. Selwyn, on the contrary, stood with the empty ice plate in his hand, staring at it in wide-eyed astonishment.
"It's gone!" he exclaimed.
"Oh!" said Lisbeth.
"Most extraordinary!" said Mr. Selwyn, fixing his monocle and staring harder than ever; "I wonder where it can have got to?"
"Perhaps it melted!" Lisbeth suggested, "and I should so have loved an ice!" she sighed.
"Then, of course, I'll get you another, with pleasure," he said, and hurried off, eyeing the plate dubiously as he went.
No sooner was Lisbeth alone than she kicked aside the train of her dress and picked up the tell-tale cap.
"Imp!" she whispered, rising to her feet, "Imp, come here at once, sir!"
There was a moment's breathless pause, and then the Imp squirmed himself into view.