"And shall go to bed without any tea!" she broke in. 

 "Very well, then," I said, and reading the purpose in my eyes, she attempted, quite vainly, to turn her head aside. 

 "You will find it quite useless to struggle, Lisbeth," I warned. "Your only course is to remember that he is a growing boy." 

 "And you are a brute!" she cried. 

 "Undoubtedly," I answered, bending my head nearer her petulant lips. 

 "But think of the Imp in bed, lying there, sleepless, tealess, and growing all the while as fast as he can." 

 Lisbeth surrendered, of course, but my triumph was greatly tempered with disappointment. 

 "You will then forgive him for the 'ambushes' and cherish him with much tea?" I stipulated, winking away a tress of hair that tickled most provokingly. 

 "Yes," said Lisbeth. 

 "And no bed until the usual hour?" 

 "No," she answered, quite subdued; "and now please do put me down." So I sighed and perforce obeyed. 

 She stood for a moment patting her rebellious hair into order with deft, white fingers, looking up at me meanwhile with a laugh in her eyes that seemed almost a challenge. I took a hasty step toward her, but as I did so the Imp hove into view, and the opportunity was lost. 

 "Hallo, Auntie Lisbeth!" he exclaimed, eyeing her wonderingly; then his glance wandered round as if in quest of something. 

 "How did she do it, Uncle Dick?" he inquired. 

 "Do what, my Imp?" 

 "Why, get out of the tree?"  I smiled and looked at Lisbeth. 

 "Did she climb down?" 

 "No," said I, shaking my head. 

 "Did she—jump down?" 

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