"Shut up!" I whispered savagely. Lisbeth was clad in a long, trailing gown of dove-coloured silk--one of those close-fitting garments that make the uninitiated, such as myself, wonder how they are ever got on. Also, she wore a shawl, which I was sorry for, because I have always been an admirer of beautiful things, and Lisbeth's neck and shoulders are glorious. Mr. Selwyn stood beside her with a plate of ice cream in his hand, which he handed to her, and they sat down. As I watched her and noticed her weary, bored air, and how wistfully she gazed up at the silver disc of the moon, I experienced a feeling of decided satisfaction. "Yes," said Lisbeth, toying absently with the ice cream, "he painted Dorothy's face with stripes of red and green enamel, and goodness only knows how we can ever get it all off!" Mr. Selwyn was duly shocked and murmured something about 'the efficacy of turpentine' in such an emergency. "Of course, I had to punish him," continued Lisbeth, "so I sent him to bed immediately after tea, and never went to say good-night, or tuck him up as I usually do, and it has been worrying me all the evening." Mr. Selwyn was sure that he was all right, and positively certain that at this moment he was wrapped in balmy slumber. Despite my warning grasp, the Imp chuckled, but we were saved by the band striking up. Mr. Selwyn rose, giving his arm to Lisbeth, and they re-entered the ball-room. One by one the other couples followed suit until the long terrace was deserted. Now, upon Lisbeth's deserted chair, showing wonderfully pink in the soft glow of the Chinese lanterns, was the ice cream. "Uncle Dick," said the Imp in his thoughtful way, "I think I'll be a bandit for a bit." "Anything you like," I answered rashly, "so long as we get away while we can." "All right," he whispered, "I won't be a minute," and before I could stop him he had scrambled down the steps and fallen to upon the ice cream. The wonderful celerity with which the Imp wolfed down that ice cream was positively awe-inspiring. In less time almost than it takes to tell the plate was empty. Yet scarcely had he swallowed the last mouthful when he heard Mr. Selwyn's voice close by. In his haste the Imp dropped his cap, a glaring affair of red and white, and before he could recover it Lisbeth reappeared, followed by Mr. Selwyn. --"It certainly is more pleasant out here!" he was saying. Lisbeth came straight towards the cap--it was a moral impossibility that she could fail to see it--yet she sank into her chair without word or sign. Mr. Selwyn, on the contrary, stood with the empty ice plate in his hand, staring at it in wide-eyed astonishment. "It's gone!" he exclaimed. "Oh!" said Lisbeth. "Most extraordinary!" Said Mr. Selwyn, fixing his monocle and staring harder than ever; "I wonder where it can have got to?" "Perhaps it melted!" Lisbeth suggested, "and I should so have loved an ice!" she sighed.