"Coming across the lawn."
"Reginald," I said, solemnly, "listen to me; you must sally out upon him with lance in rest, tell him you are a Knight-errant, wishful to uphold the glory of that faire ladye, your Auntie Lisbeth, and whatever happens you must manage to keep him away from here, do you understand?"
"Yes, only I do wish I'd brought my trusty sword, you know," he sighed.
"Never mind that now, Imp."
"Will Auntie Lisbeth be quite—"
"She will be all right."
"I suppose if you put your arm—"
"Never mind my arm, Imp, go!"
"Then fare thee well!" said he, and with a melodramatic flourish of his lance, trotted off.
"What did he mean about your arm, Dick?"