That had not been Lionel's reason, but he held his peace. The actual fact was he had feared to tell the truth lest his grandfather should seek to discover the cause of his quarrel with Dick, when he knew he would be blamed. Mrs. Compton looked from one to the other with a puzzled expression.
"What could you boys have had to fall out about?" she said plaintively, in the tone she usually adopted on the rare occasions when she rebuked her children, "and so early in your acquaintance too!"
"Oh, we shan't fall out again!" Dick told her earnestly. "I—I'm awfully ashamed of myself, I am indeed! Do please forgive me for hitting Lionel! He's not really hurt; but I'm afraid he won't be able to wear his collar again before it has been washed! I hope it was not a clean one!"
"Never mind that," Sir Richard broke in, a grim smile crossing his face. "Your aunt and I won't press you to explain your quarrel, Dick! I daresay the cause of it was not so very serious! Lionel, never tell me a deliberate lie again, even to shield another!"
"I will not, grandfather," Lionel responded in a low, shamed voice, hanging his head.
"Now, you children can run away and amuse yourselves till luncheon. Don't get into mischief, and try to agree."
Sir Richard watched the three young figures thoughtfully as they disappeared from sight around the corner of the house.
"I wonder what they could have quarrelled about, Arabella!" he exclaimed; then, as his daughter shook her head, he gave a short laugh, and added: "Dick has plenty of spirit! He is his father over again! The idea of his striking a boy so much bigger than himself! What do you think of your nephew, eh?"
"He seems a bright, attractive little fellow. I marvel more than ever how his mother could have parted with him!"
"He appears very fond of her; and she has evidently brought him up well."