The Imp saluted and promptly disappeared behind the apple-tree in question, while I stood watching Lisbeth's dexterous fingers and striving to remember a line from Keats, descriptive of a beautiful woman in the moonlight, before I could call it to mind, however, Lisbeth interrupted me.
"Don't you think you might pick up my shawl instead of staring at me as if I was----"
"The most beautiful woman in the world!" I put in.
"Who is catching her death of cold," she laughed, yet for all her light tone her eyes drooped before mine as I obediently wrapped the shawl about her, in the doing of which, my arm being round her, very naturally stayed there, and--wonder of wonders, was not repulsed. And at this very moment, from the shadowy trees behind us, came the rich clear song of a nightingale.
Oh, most certainly the air was full of magic to-night!
"Dick," said Lisbeth very softly, as the trilling notes died away, "I thought one could only dream such a night as this is."
"And yet life might hold many such for you and me, if you would only let it, Lisbeth," I reminded her. She did not answer.
"Not far from the village of Down, in Kent," I began.
"There stands a house," she put in, staring up at the moon with dreamy eyes.
"A very old house, with twisted Tudor chimneys and pointed gables--you see, I have it all by heart, Dick--a house with wide stairways and long panelled chambers----"
"Very empty and desolate at present," I added. "And, amongst other things, there is a rose garden--they call it My Lady's Garden, Lisbeth, though no lady has trod its winding paths for years and years. But I have dreamed, many and many a time, that we stood among the roses, she and I, upon just such another night as this is. So I keep the old house ready and the gardens freshly trimmed, ready for my lady's coming; must I wait much longer, Lisbeth?" As I ended the nightingale took up the story, pleading my cause for me, filling the air with a melody now appealing, now commanding, until it gradually died away in one long note of passionate entreaty.
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!"