Part 4 (2/2)

”She knows how to keep her head in an emergency, anyhow,” remarked Piers.

”Feline instinct,” jeered Sir Beverley.

Piers looked across with a laugh in his dark eyes. ”And feline pluck, sir,” he maintained.

Sir Beverley scowled at him. He could never brook an argument. ”Oh, get away, Piers!” he said. ”You talk like a fool.”

Piers turned his whole attention to devouring crumpets, and there fell a lengthy silence. He rose finally to set down his empty plate and help himself to some more tea.

”That stuff is poisonous by now,” said Sir Beverley.

”It won't poison me,” said Piers.

He drank it, and returned to the hearth-rug. ”I suppose I may smoke?” he said, with a touch of restraint.

Sir Beverley was lying back in his chair, gazing straight up at him.

Suddenly he reached out a trembling hand.

”You're a good boy, Piers,” he said. ”You may do any d.a.m.n thing you like.”

Piers' eyes kindled in swift response. He gripped the extended hand. ”You're a brick, sir!” he said. ”Look here! Come along to the billiard-room and have a hundred up! It'll give you an appet.i.te for dinner.”

He hoisted the old man out of his chair before he could begin to protest.

They stood together before the great fire, and Sir Beverley straightened his stiff limbs. He was half a head taller than his grandson.

”What a fellow it is!” he said half laughing. ”Why can't you sit still and be quiet? Don't you want to read the paper? I've done with it.”

”So have I,” said Piers. He swept it up with one hand as he spoke and tossed it recklessly on to the blaze. ”Come along, sir! We haven't much time.”

”Now what did you do that for?” demanded Sir Beverley, pausing. ”Do you want to set the house on fire? What did you do it for, Piers?”

”Because I was a fool,” said Piers with sudden, curious vehemence. ”A d.a.m.n fool sir, if you want to know. But it's done now. Let it burn!”

The paper flared fiercely and crumbled to ashes. Sir Beverley suffered himself to be drawn away.

”You're a queer fellow, Piers,” he said. ”But, taking 'em altogether, I should say there are a good many bigger fools in the world than you.”

”Thank you, sir,” said Piers.

CHAPTER III

DISCIPLINE

”Mrs. Denys, may I come in?” Jeanie Lorimer's small, delicate face peeped round the door. ”I've brought my French exercise to do,” she said half-apologetically. ”I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind.”

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