I have upon several occasions ridden with Lisbeth--she is a good horsewoman--frequently danced with her, but never before had I been with her in a boat. The novelty of it was therefore decidedly pleasing, the more so as she sat so close that by furtively reaching out a foot I could just touch the hem of her dress. "Uncle Dick," said Dorothy, looking up at me with her big grey eyes, "where is the Land of Heart's Delight?" "It lies beyond the River of Dreams," I answered. "Is it far away?" "I afraid it is, Dorothy." "Oh!--and hard to get to?" "Yes though it depends altogether upon who is at the helm." Lisbeth very slowly began to tie a knot in the rudder-line. "Well, Auntie's steering now. Could she get us there?" "Yes, she could get us there, if she would." "Oh!" cried Dorothy, "do--do steer for the Land of Heart's Delight, Auntie Lisbeth; it sounds so pretty, and I'm sure Louise would like it ever so much." But Lisbeth only laughed, and tied another knot in the rudder-line. "The Land of Heart's Delight!" repeated Dorothy. "It sounds rather like Auntie's tale of the Fairy Prince. His name was Trueheart." "And what was Prince Trueheart like?" I inquired. "Fine!" broke in the Imp. "He used to fight dragons, you know." "And he lived in a palace of crystal," continued Dorothy, "and he was so good and kind that the birds used to make friends with him!" "An' he wore gold armour, an' a big feather in his helmet!" supplemented the Imp. "And of course he loved the beautiful princess," I ended. "Yes," nodded Dorothy; "but how did you know there was a beautiful princess?" "Uncle Dick knows everything, of course," returned the Imp sententiously. "Do you think the beautiful princess loved the prince, Dorothy?" I asked, glancing at Lisbeth's averted face. "Well," answered Dorothy, pursing her mouth thoughtfully, "I don't know, Uncle Dick; you see, Auntie hasn't got to that yet, but everybody loves somebody sometime, you know. Betty--she's our cook, you know--Betty says all nice tales end up in marrying and living happy ever after." "Not a doubt of it," said I, resting on my oars. "What do you think, Lisbeth?" She leaned back and regarded me demurely beneath her long lashes for a moment. "I think," she answered, "that it would be much nicer if you would go on rowing." "One more question," I said. "Tell me, has this Prince Trueheart got a moustache?" "Like Mr. Selwyn?" cried the Imp; "should think not. The prince was a fine chap, an' used to kill dragons, you know." "Ah! I'm glad of that," I murmured, passing my fingers across my shaven upper lip; "very glad indeed." Lisbeth laughed, but I saw her colour deepen and she looked away. "Oh, it must be lovely to kill a dragon!" sighed the Imp. Now, as he spoke, chancing to look round, I saw in the distance a man in a boat, who rowed most lustily--and the man wore a Panama.