"Would you," he asked insistently, "would you rather we went away, Uncle Rad?"
The old man shifted about uneasily in his chair. He would not meet Luke's eyes any more than he would take his hand just now.
"Jim and Edie," he said curtly, "are very ill-mannered, and Philip feels——"
He passed his tongue over his lips which were parched and dry. A look—it was a mere flash—almost of appeal passed from his eyes to Luke.
"Then," said Luke simply, "it is this—this Philip whom Jim and Edie have offended? Not you, Uncle Rad?"
"Philip is your uncle Arthur's son," rejoined Lord Radclyffe, speaking like a fretful child in a thin voice that cracked now and again. "He will be the head of the family presently——"
"Not," interposed Luke earnestly, "before many years are past, I trust and pray for all our sakes, Uncle Rad——"
"The sooner," continued the old man, not heeding the interruption, "those young jackanapes learn to respect him, the better it will be for them."
"Jim and Edie have been a little spoiled by your kindness, sir. They are finding the lesson a little hard to learn. Perhaps they had better go and study elsewhere."
Lord Radclyffe made no reply. Silence was full of potent meaning; of submission to another's more dominant personality, of indifference to everything save to peace and quiet.