. For a moment he stood looking from one to the other of us, then
he turned to Lisbeth.

"Won't you forgive me, too, Auntie Lisbeth, please?" he said.

"Forgive you!" she cried, and falling on her knees, gathered him in her
arms.

"I'm glad I didn't go to Persia, after all, Uncle Dick," he said over
her shoulder.

"Persia!" repeated Lisbeth, wonderingly.

"Oh, yes; you were so angry with Uncle Dick an' me--so frightfull'
angry, you know, that I was going to try to find the 'wonderful lamp'
so I could wish everything all right again an' all of us 'live happy
ever after'; but the blasted oak did just as well, an' was nicer,
somehow, wasn't it?"

"Infinitely nicer," I answered.

"An' you will never be angry with Uncle Dick or me any more, will you,
auntie--that is, not frightfull' angry, you know?"

"Never any more, dear."

"On your honour?"

"On my honour!"

"So help you Sam?"

"So help me Sam!" she repeated, smiling, but there were tears in her
voice.

Very gravely the Imp drew his "trusty sword," which she, following his
instructions, obediently kissed.

"And now," cried he, "we are all happy again, aren't we?"

"More happy than I ever hoped or dreamed to be," answered Lisbeth,
still upon her knees; "and oh, Imp--dear little Imp, come and kiss me."

VIII

THE LAND OF HEART'S DELIGHT

Surely there never was and never could be such another morning as this!
Ever since the first peep of dawn a blackbird had been singing to me
from the fragrant syringa-bush that blossomed just beneath my window.
Each morning I had wakened to the joyous melody of his golden song.
But to-day the order was reversed. I had sat there at my open
casement, breathing the sweet purity of the morning, watching the
eastern sky turn slowly from pearl-grey to saffron and from saffron to
deepest crimson, until at last the new-risen sun had filled all the
world with his glory. And then this blackbird of mine had begun--very
hoarse at first, trying a note now and then in a tentative sort of
fashion, as though still drowsy and not quite sure of himself, but
little by little his notes had grown longer, richer, mellower, until
here he was pouring out his soul in an ecstasy.

Ah! surely there never was, there never could be, such another morning
as this!

Out of the green twilight of the woods a gentle wind was blowing, laden
with the scent of earth and hidden flowers. Dewdrops twinkled in the
grass and hung glistening from