and very lucky in that one--extremely
fortunate. Now, years ago, when I was a boy, I had three, and all of
them blanks, so to speak. I mean none of them ever read to me out of
the history book, or helped me to sail boats, or paddled and lost
their--No, mine used to lecture me about my hair and nails, I remember,
and glare at me over the big tea urn until I choked into my teacup. A
truly desolate childhood mine. I had no big-fisted uncle to thump me
persuasively when I needed it; had fortune granted me one I might have
been a very different man, Lisbeth. You behold in me a horrible
example of what one may become whose boyhood has been denuded of
uncles."

"If you will be so very obliging as to return my--my property."

"My dear Lisbeth," I sighed, "be reasonable; suppose we talk of
something else;" and I attempted, though quite vainly, to direct her
attention to the glories of the sunset.

A fallen tree lay near by, upon which Lisbeth seated herself with a
certain determined set of her little, round chin that I knew well.

"And how long do you intend keeping me here?" she asked in a resigned
tone.

"Always, if I had my way."

"Really?" she said, and whole volumes could never describe all the
scorn she managed to put into that single word. "You see," she
continued, "after what Aunt Agatha wrote and told me--"

"Lisbeth," I broke in, "if you'll only--"

"I naturally supposed--"

"If you'll only let me explain--"

"That you would abide by the promise you made her and wait--"

"Until you knew your own heart," I put in. "The question is, how long
will it take you? Probably, if you would allow me to teach you--"

"Your presence here now stamps you as--as horribly deceitful!"

"Undoubtedly," I nodded; "but you see when I was foolish enough to give
that promise your very excellent Aunt made no reference to her
intentions regarding a certain Mr. Selwyn."

"Oh!" exclaimed Lisbeth. And feeling that I had made a point, I
continued with redoubled ardour:

"She gave me to understand that she merely wished you to have time to
know your own heart in the matter. Now, as I said before, how long
will it take you to find out, Lisbeth?"

She sat chin in hand staring straight before her, and her black brows
were still drawn together in a frown. But I watched her mouth--just
where the scarlet underlip curved up to meet its fellow.

Lisbeth's mouth is a trifle wide, perhaps, and rather full-lipped, and
somewhere