“I’m awfull’ fond of worms, too,” said the Imp.

“Indeed?”

“Yes. I got a pocketful yesterday, only Aunty found out an’ made me let them all go again.”

“Ah-yes,” I said sympathetically; “that was the woman of it.”

“I’ve only got one left now,” continued the Imp; and thrusting a hand into the pocket of his knickerbockers he drew forth six inches or so of slimy worm and held it out to me upon his small, grimy palm.

“He’s nice and fat!” I said.

“Yes,” nodded the Imp; “I caught him under the gooseberry bushes;” and dropping it back into his pocket he proceeded to don his shoes and stockings.

“Fraid I’m a bit muddy,” he said suddenly.

“Oh, you might be worse,” I answered reassuringly.

“Do you think they’ll notice it?” he inquired, contorting himself horribly in order to view the small of his back.

“Well,” I hesitated, “it all depends, you know.”

“I don’t mind Dorothy, or Betty the cook, or the governess - it’s Auntie Lisbeth I’m thinking about.”

“Auntie - who?” I exclaimed, regardless of grammar.

” Auntie Lisbeth,” repeated the Imp.

“What is she like?”

“Oh, she’s grown up big, only she’s nice. She came to take care of Dorothy an’ me while mother goes away to get nice an strong - oh Auntie Lisbeth’s jolly, you know.”

“With black hair and blue eyes?”

The Imp nodded.

“And a dimple at the corner of her mouth?” I went on dreamily - ” a dimple that would lead a man to the - Old Gentleman himself.”

“What old gentleman?”

“Oh, a rather disreputable old gentleman,” I answered evasively.

“An’ do you know my Auntie Lisbeth?”

“I think it extremely probable - in fact, I’m sure of it.”

“Then you might end me your handkerchief, please; I tied mine to a bush for a flag, you know, an’ it blew away.”

“You’d better come here and I’ll give you a rub-down my Imp.” He obeyed, with many profuse expressions of gratitude.

Hay you got any Aunties?” he inquired, as I laboured upon his miry person.

“No,” I answered, shaking my head; “unfortunately mine are all Aunts and that is vastly different.”

“Oh,” said the Imp, regarding me with a puzzled expression; “are they nice - I mean do they ever read to out of the history book, and help you to sail boats, an’ paddle?”

“Paddle?” I repeated

“Yes. My Auntie Lisbeth does. The other day we got up awfull’ early an’ went for a walk an’ we came to the river, so we took off our shoes an’ stockings an’ we paddled; it was ever so jolly, you know. An’ when Auntie wasn’t looking I found a frog an’ put it in her stocking.”

“Highly strategic, my Imp! Well?”

“It was awful funny,” he said, smiling dreamily. “When she went to put it on she gave a little high-up scream like Dorothy does when I pinch her a bit - an’ then she throwed them both away, ‘cause she was afraid there was frogs in both of them. Then she put on her shoes without any stockings at all, so I hid them.”

“Where?” I cried eagerly.

“Reggie!” called a voice some distance away - a voice I recognised with a thrill. “Reggie!”

“Imp, would you like half a crown?”

“‘Course I would; but you might clean my back, please,” and he began rubbing himself feverishly with his cap, after the fashion of a scrubbing brush.

“Look here,” I said, pulling out the coin, “tell me where you hid them - quick - and I’ll give you this.” The Imp held out his hand, but even as he did so the bushes parted and Lisbeth stood before us. She gave a little, low cry of surprise at sight of me, and then frowned.

“You?” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” I answered, raising my cap. And there I stopped, trying frantically to remember the speech I had so carefully prepared - the greeting which was to have explained my conduct and disarmed her resentment at the very outset. But rack my brain as I would, I could think of nothing but the reproach in her eyes - her disdainful mouth and chin - and that one haunting phrase:

“‘I suppose I am become the object of your bitterest scorn by now?’” I found myself saying.

“My aunt informed me of - of everything, and naturally - “

“Let me explain,” I began.

“Really, it is not at all necessary.”

“But, Lisbeth, I must - I insist - “

“Reginald,” she said, turning toward the Imp, who was still busy with his cap, “it’s nearly tea-time, and - why, whatever have you been doing to yourself?”

“For the last half hour,” I interposed, “we have been exchanging our opinions on the sex.”

“An’ talking ‘bout worms,” added the Imp. “This man is fond of worms, too, Auntie Lisbeth - I like him.”

“Thanks,” I said; “but let me beg of you to drop your very distant mode of address, Call me Uncle Dick,”

“But you’re not my Uncle Dick, you know,” he demurred.

“Not yet, perhaps; but there’s no knowing what may happen some day if your Auntie thinks us worthy - so take time by the forelock, my Imp, and call me Uncle Dick.”

Whatever Lisbeth might or might not have said was checked by the patter of footsteps, and a little girl tripped into view, with a small, fluffy kitten cuddled in her arms.

“Oh, Auntie Lisbeth,”she began, but stopped to stare at me over the back of the fluffy kitten. “Hallo, Dorothy!” cried the imp; “this is Uncle Dick. You can come an’ shake hands with him if you like.”

“I didn’t know I had an Uncle Dick,” said Dorothy, hesitating.

“Oh, yes; it’s all right,” answered the Imp reassuringly. “I found him, you know, an’ he likes worms, too!”

“How do you do, Uncle Dick?” she said in a quaint, old-fashioned way. “Reginald is always finding things, you know, an’ he likes worms, too!” Dorothy gave me her hand demurely.

>From somewhere near by there came the silvery chime of a bell.

“Why, there’s the tea-bell!” exclaimed Lisbeth; “and, Reginald, you have to change those muddy clothes. Say good-bye to Mr. Brent, children, and come along.”

“Imp,” I whispered as the others turned away, “where did you hide those stockings?” And I slipped the half crown into his ready palm.

“Along the river there’s a tree - very big an’ awfull’ fat, you know, with a lot of stickie-out branches, an’ a hole in its stomach - they’re in there.”

“Reginald!” called Lisbeth.

“Up stream or down?”

“That way,” he answered, pointing vaguely down stream; and with a nod that brought the yellow curls over his eyes he scampered off.

“Along the river,” I repeated, “in a big, fat tree with a lot of stickie-out branches!” It sounded a trifle indefinite, I thought - still I could but try. So having packed up my rod I set out upon the search.

It was strange, perhaps, but nearly every tree I saw seemed to be either “big” or “fat” - and all of them had “stickie-out” branches.

Thus the sun was already low in the west, and I was lighting my fifth pipe when I at length observed the tree in question.

A great pollard oak it was, standing upon the very edge of the stream, easily distinguishable by its unusual size and the fact that at some time or another it had been riven by lightning. After all, the Imp’s description had been in the main correct; it was “fat,” immensely fat: and I hurried joyfully forward.

I was still some way off when I saw the distant flutter of a white skirt, and - yes, sure enough, there was Lisbeth, walking quickly too, and she was a great deal nearer the tree than I.

Prompted by a sudden conviction, I dropped my rod and began to run. Immediately Lisbeth began running, too. I threw away my creel and sprinted for all I was worth. I had earned some small fame at this sort of thing in my university days, yet I arrived at the tree with only a very few yards to spare. Throwing myself upon my knees, I commenced a feverish search, and presently - more by good fortune than any thing else - my random fingers encountered a soft, silken bundle. When Lisbeth came up, flushed and panting, I held them in my hands.

“Give them to me!” she cried.

“I’m sorry - “

“Please,” she begged.

“I’m very sorry - “

“Mr. Brent.” said Lisbeth, drawing her self up, “I’ll trouble you for my - them.”

“Pardon me, Lisbeth,” I answered, “but if I remember anything of the law of ‘treasure-trove’ one of these should go to the Crown, and one belongs to me.

Lisbeth grew quite angry - one of her few bad traits.

“You will give them up at once - immediately?

“On the contrary,” I said very gently, “seeing the Crown can have no use for one, I shall keep them both to dream over when the nights are long and lonely.”

Lisbeth actually stamped her foot at me, and I tucked “them” into my pocket.

“How did you know they - they were here?” she inquired after a pause.

“I was directed to a tree with ‘stickie-out’ branches,” I answered.

“Oh, that Imp!” she exclaimed, and stamped her foot again.

“Do you know, I’ve grown quite attached to that nephew of mine already?” I said.

“He’s not a nephew of yours,” cried Lisbeth quite hotly.

“Not legally, perhaps; that is where you might be of such assistance to us Lisbeth. A boy with only an aunt here and there is unbalanced, so to speak; be requires the stronger influence of an uncle. Not,” I continued hastily, “that I would depreciate aunts - by the way, he has but one, I believe?” Lisbeth nodded coldly.

“Of course,” I nodded; “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.”