Lucas, supporting himself on one side with a crutch, stood by the fire and waited for him.
As Bertie drew near he took him gently by the shoulder. "May I know what you were going to say to Miss Waring just now?" he asked.
Bertie threw back his head. "I was going to ask her to overlook that cad's vile insinuations—and marry me."
"And that was the very thing she didn't want you to do," Lucas said.
"I can't help it." There was a stubborn note in Bertie's voice. "She shan't think I'm a blackguard like Nap."
"We will leave Nap out of it," Lucas said quietly.
"Why?" demanded Bertie hotly. "He was responsible. He insulted a guest under your roof. Are you going to put up with that? Because I'm not!"
"My dear fellow, it is I, not you, who must deal with that."
Bertie stamped furiously. "That's all very well, but—dash it, Lucas, you're always holding me back. And I can't knock under to you in this. I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm going to have it out with Nap. Whatever you may say, it is more my business than yours."
He would have flung round with the words, but his brother's hand was still upon him, restraining him.