were fixed. The shining suits of armour standing like
sentinels on each side of the fireplace were not more rigid than he.

There came a slight sound from the other end of the hall, and instantly
and very sharply Sir Beverley turned his head.

"Piers!"

Cheerily Piers' voice made answer. He shut the door behind him and came
forward as he spoke. "Here I am, sir! I'm sorry I'm late. You shouldn't
have waited. You never ought to wait. I'm never in at the right time."

"Confound you, why aren't you then?" burst forth Sir Beverley. "It's easy
to say you're sorry, isn't it?"

"Not always," said Piers.

He came to the old man, bent down over him, slid a boyish arm around
the bent shoulders. "Don't be waxy!" he coaxed. "I couldn't help it
this time."

"Get away, do!" said Sir Beverley, jerking himself irritably from him. "I
detest being pawed about, as you very well know. In Heaven's name, have
your tea, if you want it! I shan't touch any. It's past my time."

"Oh, rot!" said Piers. "If you don't, I shan't."

"Yes, you will." Sir Beverley pointed an imperious hand towards a table
on the other side of the fire. "Go and get it and don't be a fool!"

"I'm not a fool," said Piers.

"Yes, you are--a damn fool!" Sir Beverley returned to his newspaper with
the words. "And you'll never be anything else!" he growled into the
silence that succeeded them.

Piers clattered the tea-things and said nothing. There was no resentment
visible upon his sensitive, olive face, however. He looked perfectly
contented. He turned round after a few seconds with a cup of steaming tea
in his hand. He crossed the hearth and set it on the table at Sir
Beverley's elbow.

"That's just as you like it, sir," he urged. "Have it--just to
please me!"

"Take it away!" said Sir Beverley, without raising his eyes.

"It's only ten minutes late after all," said Piers, with all meekness. "I
wish you hadn't waited, though it was jolly decent of you. You weren't
anxious of course? You know I always turn up some time."

"Anxious!" echoed Sir Beverley. "About a cub like you! You flatter
yourself, my good Piers."

Piers laughed a little and stooped over the blaze. Sir Beverley read on
for a few moments, then very suddenly and not without violence crumpled
his paper and flung it on the ground.

"Of all the infernal, ridiculous twaddle!" he exclaimed. "Now what the
devil have you done to yourself? Been taking a water-jump?"

Piers turned round. "No, si