"
Lisbeth rose from her knees and began to pat her rebellious hair
into order. Now, as she raised her arms, her shawl very naturally
slipped to the ground; and standing there, with her eyes laughing
up at me beneath their dark lashes, with the moonlight in her hair,
and gleaming upon the snow of her neck and shoulders, she had never
seemed quite so bewilderingly, temptingly beautiful before.
"Dick," she said, "I must go back at once - before they miss me."
"Go back!" I repeated, "never - that is, not yet."
"But suppose any one saw us!" she said, with a hairpin in her mouth.
"They shan't," I answered; "you will see to that, won't you, Imp?"
"'Course I will, Uncle Dick!"
"Then go you, Sir Knight, and keep faithful ward behind yon apple
tree, and let no base varlet hither come; that is, if you see any
one, be sure to tell me." 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.
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