"'Fraid there's something wrong with her," he said at last, shaking his head; "she's always getting angry with everybody 'bout something--you an' me an' Mr. Selwyn." "Mr. Selwyn!" I exclaimed. "Imp, what do you mean?" "'Well, she got cross with me first--an' over such a little thing, too! We were in the orchard, an' I spilt some lemonade on her gown--only about half a glass, you know, an' when she went to wipe it off she hadn't a handkerchief, an' 'course I had none. So she told me to fetch one, an' I was just going when Mr. Selwyn came, so I said, 'Would he lend Auntie Lisbeth his handkerchief, 'cause she wanted one to wipe her dress?' an' he said, 'Delighted!' Then auntie frowned at me an' shook her head when he wasn't looking. But Mr. Selwyn took out his handkerchief, an' got down on his knees, an' began to wipe off the lemonade, telling her something 'bout his 'heart,' an' wishing he could 'kneel at her feet forever!' Auntie got awfull' red, an' told him to stand up, but he wouldn't; an' then she looked at me so awfull' cross that I thought I'd better leave, so while she was saying, 'Rise, Mr. Selwyn--do!' I ran away, only I could tell she was awfull' angry with Mr. Selwyn--an' that's all!" I rose to my knees and caught the Imp by the shoulders. "Imp," I cried, "are you sure--quite sure that she was angry with Mr. Selwyn yesterday morning?" "'Course I am. I always know when Auntie Lisbeth's angry. An' now let's go an' play at 'Blasted Oaks.'" "Anything you like, Imp, so long as we find her." "You're forgetting your fishing rod an'--" "Fishing rod be--blowed!" I exclaimed, and set oft hurriedly in the direction Lisbeth had taken. The Imp trotted beside me, stumbling frequently over his "trusty sword" and issuing numberless commands in a hoarse, fierce voice to an imaginary "band of outlaws." As for me, I strode on unheeding, for my mind was filled with a fast-growing suspicion that I had judged Lisbeth like a hasty fool. In this manner we scoured the neighbourhood very thoroughly, but with no success. However, we continued our search with unabated ardour--along the river path to the water stairs and from thence by way of the gardens to the orchard; but not a sign of Lisbeth. The shrubbery and paddock yielded a like result, and having interrogated Peter in the harness-room, he informed us that "Miss Helezabeth was hout along with Miss Dorothy." At last, after more than an hour of this sort of thing, even the Imp grew discouraged and suggested "turning pirates." Our wanderings had led by devious paths, and now, as luck would have it, we found ourselves beneath "the blasted oak." We sat down very solemnly side by side, and for a long time there was silence. "It's fine to make 'tyrants tremble,' isn't it Uncle Dick?" said the Imp at last. "Assuredly." I nodded. "But I should have liked to kiss Auntie Lisbeth good-bye first, an' Dorothy, an' Louise--" "What do you mean, my Imp?"