"Where away, my Imp?"
"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.