"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!"
With a sudden exclamation Lisbeth started from me and gathered up her
skirts to run.
"Whereaway, my Imp?"
"Coming across the lawn."
"Reginald," I said, solemnly, listen to me; you must sally out upon
him with lance in rest, tell him you are a Knight-errant, wishful
to uphold the glory of that faire ladye, your Auntie Lisbeth, and
whatever happens you must manage to keep him away from here, do you
understand?"
"Yes, only I do wish I'd brought my trusty sword, you know," he
sighed.
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