"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