“Oh, Dick! is there nothing you can do?” she asked, with a brave attempt to steady the quiver in her voice.

“With your permission, I’ll smoke, Lisbeth.”

“But the weir!” she cried; “have you forgotten the weir?”

“No,” I answered, shaking my head; “it has a way of obtruding itself on one’s notice - “

“Oh, it sounds hateful - hateful!” she said with a shiver.

“Like a strong wind among trees!” I nodded, as I filled my pipe. We were approaching a part of the river where it makes a sharp bend to the right; and well I knew what lay beyond - the row of posts, painted white, with the foam and bubble of seething water below. We should round that bend in about ten minutes, I judged; long before then we might see a boat, to be sure; if not - well, if the worst happened, I could but do my best; in the meantime I would smoke a pipe; but I will admit my fingers trembled as I struck a match.

“It sounds horribly close!” said Lisbeth.

“Sound is very deceptive, you know,” I answered.

“Only last month a boat went over, and the man was drowned!” shuddered Lisbeth,

“Poor chap!” I said. “Of course it’s different at night - the river is awfully deserted then, you know, and - “

“But it happened in broad day light!” said Lisbeth, almost in a whisper. She was sitting half turned from me, her gaze fixed on the bend of the river, and by chance her restless hand had found and begun to fumble with the severed painter.

So we drifted on, watching the gliding banks, while every moment the roar of the weir grew louder and more threatening.

“Dick,” she said suddenly, “we can never pass that awful place without oars!” and she began to tie knots in, the rope with fingers that shook pitifully.

“Oh, I don’t know!” I returned, with an assumption of ease I was very far from feeling; “and then, of course, we are bound to meet a boat or something - “

“But suppose we don’t?”

“Oh, well, we aren’t there yet - and er - let’s talk of fish.”

“Ah, Dick,” she cried, “how can you treat the matter so lightly when we may be tossing down there in that awful water so very soon! We can never pass that weir without oars, and you know it, and - and - oh, Dick, why did you do it - how could you have been so mad ?”

“Do what?” I inquired, staring.

With a sudden gesture she rose to her knees and fronted me.

“This!” she cried, and held up the severed painter. “It has been cut! Oh, Dick! Dick! how could you be so mad.”

“Lisbeth !” I exclaimed, “do you mean to say that you think - “

“I know!” she broke in, and turning away, hid her face in her hands. We were not so very far from the bend now, and seeing this, a sudden inspiration came upon me, by means of which I might prove her mind towards me once and for all; and as she kneeled before me with averted face, I leaned forward and took her hands in mine.

“Lisbeth,” I said, “supposing I did cut the boat adrift like a - a fool - endangering your life for a mad, thoughtless whim - could you forgive me?”

For a long moment she remained without answering, then very slowly she raised her head:

“Oh. Dick!” was all she said, but in her eyes I read the wonder of wonders.

“But, Lisbeth,” I stammered, “could you still love me - even - even if, through my folly, the worst should happen and we - we - “

“I don’t think I shall be so very much afraid, Dick, if you will hold me close like this,” she whispered.

The voice of the weir had swelled into a roar by now, yet I paid little heed; for me all fear was swallowed up in a great wondering happiness.

Dick,” she whispered, “you will hold me tight, you w ill not let me go when - when - “

“Never,” I answered; “nothing could ever take you from me now.” As I spoke I raised my eyes, and glancing about beheld something which altered the whole aspect of affairs - something which changed tragedy into comedy all in a moment - a boat was coming slowly round the bend.

“Lisbeth, look up!” With a sigh she obeyed, her clasp tightening on mine, and a dreadful expectation in her eyes. Then all at once it was gone, her pale cheeks grew suddenly scarlet, and she slipped from my arms; and thereafter I noticed how very carefully her eyes avoided mine.

The boat came slowly into view, impelled by one who rowed with exactly that amount of splashing which speaks the true-born Cockney. By dint of much exertion and more splashing, he presently ranged alongside in answer to my hail.

“Wo’t - a haccident then?” he inquired.

“Something of the sort,” I nodded. “Will you be so kind as to tow us to the bank yonder?”

“Hanythink to hoblige!” he grinned, and having made fast the painter, proceeded to splash us to terra-firma. Which done, he grinned again, waved his hat, and splashed upon his way. I made the boat secure and turned to Lisbeth. She was staring away towards the weir.

“Lisbeth,” I began.

“I thought just now that - that it was the end!” she said, and shivered.

“And at such times,” I added, “one sometimes says things one would not have said under ordinary circumstances. My dear, I quite understand-quite, and I’ll try to forget - you needn’t fear.”

“Do you think you can?” she asked, turning to look at me.

“I can but try,” I answered. Now as I spoke I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw the pale ghost of the dimple by her mouth.

We walked back side by side along the river-path, very silently, for the most part, yet more than once I caught her regarding me covertly and with a puzzled air.

“Well?” I said at last, tentatively.

“I was wondering why you did it, Dick? Oh, ii was mean! cruel! wicked! How could you ?”

“Oh, well”-and I shrugged my shoulders, anathematising the Imp mentally the while.

“If I hadn’t noticed that the rope was freshly cut, I should have thought it an accident,” she went on.”

“Naturally!” I said.”

“And then, again, how came you in the boat?””

“To be sure!” I nodded.”

Still, I can scarcely believe that you would willfully jeopardise both our lives - my life!”

“A man who would do such a thing,” I exclaimed, carried away by the heat of the moment, “would be a - a - “

“Yes,” said Lisbeth quickly, “he would.”

” -And utterly beyond the pale of all forgiveness!”

“Yes,” said Lisbeth, “of course.”

“And,” I was beginning again, but meeting her searching glance, stopped. “And you forgave me, Lisbeth,” I ended.

“Did I?” she said, with raised brows.

“Didn’t you?”

“Not that I remember.”

“In the boat?”

“I never said so?”

“Not in words, perhaps, but you implied as much.” Lisbeth had the grace to blush.

“Do I understand that I am not forgiven after all?”

“Not until I know why you did such a mad, thoughtless trick,” she answered, with that determined set of her chin which I knew so well.

That I should thus shoulder the responsibility for the Imp’s misdeeds was ridiculous, and wrong as it was unjust, for if ever boy deserved punishment that boy was the Imp. And yet, probably because he was the Imp, or because of that school-boy honour which forbids “sneaking,” and which I carried with me still, I held my peace; seeing which, Lisbeth turned and left me.

I stood where I was, with head bent in an attitude suggestive of innocence, broken hopes, and gentle resignation, but in vain; she never once looked back. Still, martyr though I was, the knowledge that I had immolated myself upon the altar of friendship filled me with a sense of conscious virtue that I found not ill-pleasing. Howbeit, seeing I am but human after all, I sat down and refilling my pipe, fell once more anathematising the Imp.

“Hist!”

A small shape flittered from behind an adjacent tree, and lo! the subject of my thoughts stood before me.

Imp’ I said “come here.” He obeyed readily. “When you cut that rope and set your Auntie Lisbeth adrift, you didn’t remember the man who was drowned in the weir last month, did you?”

“No!” he answered, staring.

“Of course not,” I nodded; “but all the same it is not your fault that your Auntie Lisbeth is not drowned - just as he was,”

“Oh!” exclaimed the Imp, and his beloved bow slipped from his nerveless fingers.

“Imp,” I went on, “it was a wicked thing to cut that rope, a mean, cruel trick, Don’t you think so?”

“I ‘specks it was, Uncle Dick.”

“Don’t you think you ought to be punished?” He nodded. “Very well,” I answered, “I’ll punish you myself. Go and cut me a nice, straight switch,” and I handed him my open penknife. Round-eyed, the Imp obeyed, and for a space there was a prodigious cracking and snapping of sticks. In a little while he returned with three, also the blade of my knife was broken, for which he was profusely apologetic.

“Now,” I said as I selected the weapon fittest for the purpose, “I am going to strike you hard on either hand with this stick that is, if you think you deserve it.”

“Was Aunt Lisbeth nearly drowned - really ?” he inquired.

“Very nearly, and was only saved by a chance.”

“All right, Uncle Dick, hit me,” he said, and held out his hand. The stick whizzed and fell - once - twice. I saw his face grow scarlet and the tears leap to his eyes, but he uttered no sound.

“Did it hurt very much, my Imp?” I inquired, as I tossed the stick aside. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, while I turned to light my pipe, wasting three matches quite fruitlessly.

“Uncle Dick,” he burst out at last, struggling manfully against his sobs, “I - I’m awfull’ - sorry - “

“Oh, ifs all right now, Imp. Shake hands!” Joyfully the little, grimy fingers clasped mine, and from that moment I think there grew up between us a new understanding.

“Why, Imp, my darling, you’re crying!” exclaimed a voice, and with a rustle of skirts Lisbeth was down before him on her knees.

“I know I am - ‘cause I’m awfull’ sorry - an’ Uncle Dick’s whipped my hands - an’ I’m glad!”

“Whipped your hands?’ cried Lisbeth, clasping him closer, and glaring at me, “Whipped your hands - how dare he! What for?”

“‘Cause I cut the rope an’ let the boat go away with you, an’ you might have been drowned dead in the weir, an’ I’m awfull’ glad Uncle Dick whipped me.”

“0-h-h!” exclaimed Lisbeth, and it was a very long drawn “oh!” indeed.

“I don’t know what made me do it,” continued the imp. “I ‘specks it was my new knife - it was so nice an sharp, you know.”

“Well, it’s all right now, my Imp,” I said, fumbling for a match in a singularly clumsy manner. “If you ask me, I think we are all better friends than ever - or should be. I know I should be fonder of your Auntie Lisbeth even than before, and take greater care of her, if I were you. And - and now take her in to tea, my Imp, and - and see that she has plenty to eat,” and lifting my hat I turned away. But Lisbeth was beside me, and her hand was on my arm before I had gone a yard.

“We are having tea in the same old place - under the trees. If you would care to - to - would you?”

“Yes, do - oh do, Uncle Dick!”cried the Imp. “I’ll go and tell Jane to set a place for you,” and he bounded off.

“I didn’t hit him very hard,” I said, breaking a somewhat awkward silence; “but you see there are some things a gentleman cannot do. I think he understands now.”

“Oh, Dick!” she said very softly; “and to think I could imagine you had done such a thing - you; and to think that you should let me think you had done such a thing - and all to shield that Imp? Oh, Dick! no wonder he is so fond of you. He never talks of any one but you - I grow quite jealous sometimes. But, Dick, how did you get into that boat?”

“By means of a tree with ‘stickie-out’ branches.”

“Do you mean to say - “

“That, as I told you before, I dropped in, as it were.”

“But supposing you had slipped?”

“But I didn’t.”

“And you can’t swim a stroke!”

“Not that I know of.”

“Oh, Dick! can you ever forgive me?”

“On three conditions.” “Well?”

“First, that you let me remember everything you said to me while we were drifting down to the river.”

“That depends, Dick. And the second?”

“The second lies in the fact that not far from the village of Down, in Kent, there stands an old house - a quaint old place that is badly in want of some one to live in it - an old house that is lonely for a woman’s sweet presence and gentle, busy hands, Lisbeth!”

“And the third?” she asked very softly.

“Surely you can guess that?”

“No, I can’t, and, besides, there’s Dorothy coming - and - oh, Dick!”

“Why, Auntie,” exclaimed Dorothy, as she came up, “how red you are! I knew you’d get sunburned, lying in that old boat without a parasol! But, then, she will do it, Uncle Dick - oh, she will do it!”