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!"
"Everything is mad to-night," I said; "it's the moon!"
"To think of my running away like this with two - two - "
"Interlopers," I suggested.
"I really ought to be very, very angry with you - both of you, she
said, trying to frown.
"No, don't be angry with us, Auntie Lisbeth," pleaded the Imp,
"'cause you are a lovely lady in a castle grim, an' we are two
gallant knights, so we had to come an' rescue you; an' you never came
to kiss me good-night, an' I'm awfull' sorry 'bout painting Dorothy's
face - really!"
"Imp," cried Lisbeth, falling on her knees regardless of her silks
and laces, "Imp, come and kiss me." The Imp drew out a decidedly
grubby handkerchief, and, having rubbed his lips with it, obeyed.
"Now, Uncle Dick!" he said, and offered me the grubby handkerchief.
Lisbeth actually blushed.
"Reginald!" she exclaimed, "whatever put such an idea into your
head?"
"Oh! everybody's always kissing somebody you know," he nodded; "an'
it's Uncle Dick's turn now.
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