Sir Eustace was standing by the window of the little boudoir when his brother entered, and Scott joined him there. He also lighted a cigarette, and they smoked together in silence for several seconds.
Finally Eustace turned with his faint, supercilious smile. "What's the matter, Stumpy? Something on your mind?"
Scott met his look. "Something I've got to say to you anyway, old chap, that rather sticks in my gullet."
Sir Eustace laughed. "You carry conscience enough for the two of us. What is it? Fire away!"
Scott puffed at his cigarette. "You won't like it," he observed. "But it's got to be said. Look here, Eustace! It's all very well to be in love. But you're carrying it too far. The child's downright afraid of you."
"Has she told you so?" demanded Eustace. A hot gleam suddenly shone in his blue eyes. He looked down at Scott with a frown.
Scott shook his head. "If she had, I shouldn't tell you so. But the fact remains. You're a bit of an ogre, you know, always have been. Slack off a bit, there's a good fellow! You'll find it's worth it."
He spoke with the utmost gentleness, but there was determination in his quiet eyes. Having spoken, he turned them upon the garden again and resumed his cigarette.
There fell a brief silence between them. Sir Eustace was no longer smoking. His frown had deepened. Suddenly he laid his hand upon Scott's shoulder.
"It's my turn now," he said. "I've something to say to you."