"And what do you think?"
"Oh, I agree with her, of course; his family dates back ages and ages
before the Conqueror, and he has two or three estates besides Selwyn
Park, and one in Scotland."
"Do you know, Lisbeth, that reminds me of another house--not at all big
or splendid, but of great age; a house which stands not far from the
village of Down, in Kent; a house which is going to rack and ruin for
want of a mistress. Sometimes, just as evening comes on, I think it
must dream of the light feet and gentle hands it has known so many
years ago, and feels its loneliness more than ever."
"Poor old house!" said Lisbeth softly.
"Yes, a house is very human, Lisbeth, especially an old one, and feels
the need of that loving care which only a woman can bestow, just as we
do ourselves."
"Dear old house!" said Lisbeth, more softly than before.
"How much longer must it wait--when will you come and care for it,
Lisbeth?"
She started, and I thought her cheeks seemed a trifle pinker than usual
as her eyes met mine.
"Dick," she said wistfully, "I do wish you would get the ladder; it's
horribly uncomfortable to sit in a tree for hours and--"
"First of all, Lisbeth, you will forgive the Imp--full and freely,
won't you?"
"He shall go to bed without any tea whatever."
"That will be rank cruelty, Lisbeth; remember he is a growing boy."
"And I have been perched up here--between heaven and earth--all the
afternoon."
"Then why not come down?" I inquired.
"If you will only get the ladder--"
"If you will just put your right foot in my--"
"I won't!" said Lisbeth.
"As you please," I nodded, and sitting down, mechanically took out my
pipe and began to fill it, while she opened her book, frowning. And
after she had read very studiously for perhaps two minutes, she drew
out and consulted her watch. I did the same.
"A quarter to five!" I said.
Lisbeth glanced down at me with the air of one who is deliberating upon
two courses of action, and when at length she spoke, every trace of
irritation had vanished completely.
"Dick, I'm awfully hungry."
"So am I," I nodded.
"It would be nice to have tea here under the trees, wouldn't it?"
"It would be positively idyllic!" I said.
"Then if you will please find that ladder--"
"If you will promise to forgive the Imp--"
"Certainly not!" she retorted.
"So be it!" I sighed, and sat down again. As I did so she launched her
book at me.
"Beast!" she exclaimed.
"Which means that you are ready to descend?" I inquired, rising and
depositing the maltreated volume side by side with my pipe on a rustic
table near-by; "very good. Place your right foot in--"
"Oh, all right," she said quite pettishly, and next moment I had her in
my arms.
"Dick! put me down-at once!"
"One moment, Lisbeth; that boy is a growing boy--"
"And shall go to bed without any tea!" she broke in.
"Very well, then," I said, and reading the purpose in my eyes, she
attempted, quite vainly, to turn her head aside.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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