some time; it's very fashionable at present. Mamma did and
so shall I when I grow up, I suppose."

"Goodness gracious, child!" exclaimed Lady Warburton.

"I s'pose you're angry 'bout it, Aunt," pursued the Imp. "I was at
first--just a weeny bit; but you see Uncle Dick has a wonderful house
with swords an' armour, but empty, an' he wanted to keep somebody in it
to see that everything was nice, I s'pose, an' sing, you know, an' take
care of his life. Auntie Lisbeth can sing, an' she wanted to go, so I
forgave them."

"Oh, indeed, Reginald?" said Lady Warburton in a rather queer voice,
and I saw the corners of her high, thin nose quiver strangely.

"Beggin' your pardon, ma' am," said Peter at this moment, touching his
cap, "I don't know much about boats, my line bein' 'osses, but I do
think as this 'ere boat is a-goin' to sink."

"Then row for the shore instantly," said Lady Warburton firmly, "and
should I never reach it alive"--here she brought her lorgnette to bear
on Lisbeth--"I say if I do meet a watery grave this day, my epitaph
shall be, 'Drowned by the Ingratitude of a Niece.'"

However, this gloomy tragedy being happily averted, and Lady Warburton
safely landed, I, at a nod from Lisbeth, rowed to the bank likewise and
we all disembarked together.

Now, as kind Fortune would have it, and Fortune was very kind that
morning, the place where we stood was within a stone's throw of The
Three Jolly Anglers, and wafted to us on the warm, still air there came
a wondrous fragrance, far sweeter and more alluring than the breath of
roses or honeysuckle--the delightful aroma of frying bacon.

Lady Warburton faced us, her parasol tucked beneath her arm, looking
very much like a military officer on parade.

"Dorothy and Reginald," she said in a short, sharp voice of command,
"bid good-bye to your Auntie Lisbeth and accompany me home at once."

"No, no," cried Lisbeth, with hands stretched out appealingly, "you
will not leave us like this, Aunt--for the sake of the love I shall
always bear you, and--and--"

"Elizabeth, I cared for you from your babyhood up. Ingratitude is my
return. I watched you grow from child to woman. I planned out a
future for you; you broke those plans. I might tell you that I am a
lonely, disappointed old woman, who loved you much more than she
thought, but I won't!"

"Dear, dear Aunt Agatha, did you love me so much, and I never guessed;
you wouldn't let me, you see. Ah! do not think m