The Imp Disposes
He shut the watch and took an elaborate fishing-rod from a corner of the piazza.
"Come on," he said, holding out his hand, "we'll start, for I shouldn't wonder if you'd be in demand, a little later."
They struck out into the wood, hand in hand.
"I trust you left your friend the Countess in good health?" inquired the man.
There was in his question no apparent rudeness, but the Imp recognized the tone perfectly. His Uncle Stanley employed that tone very frequently.
"She was asleep," he returned briefly, and fingered the rod with deep admiration.
"Indeed! Is she as popular as ever? She is reported to have been very attractive to the men—like her namesake!" he added quickly. "Do they hover about her and paint her portrait and write waltzes for her? Poor men—what fools they are!"
"That's what she says," the Imp agreed.
The man stared at him.
"Oh, she does!" he said. "Well, she ought to know, I'm sure. And yet it seems rather unjust to make a man a fool and then laugh at
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