“What is the meaning of this!” cried Sir James furiously.
Dexter was speechless, and he shrank back staring.
Edgar was ready with an answer. “He’s knocking me about, pa. He has done nothing but knock me about ever since he came.”
“Oh!” cried Dexter in a voice full of indignant astonishment. “I didn’t. He begun it, and I didn’t, indeed.”
“Silence, sir!” cried Sir James, in his severest magisterial tones. “How dare you tell me such a falsehood? I saw you ill-using my son as you held him down.”
“Why, he had got hold of my hand!” cried Dexter indignantly.
“Got hold of your hand, sir? How dare you? How dare you, sir, I say? I’ve a great mind to—”
Sir James did not finish his speech, but made a gesture with the walking-cane he carried; and just then there was a loud hysterical shriek.
For Lady Danby had realised the fact that something was wrong from the part of the garden where she was promenading, parasol in hand, and she came now panting up, in the full belief that some accident had happened to her darling, and that he was drowned.
“Eddy, Eddy!” she cried, as she came up; and then as soon as she caught sight of his anything but pleasant-looking countenance, she shrieked again wildly, and flung herself upon her knees beside him. “What is it? What is it, my darling?” she sobbed, as she caught him to her heart.