"You must be pretty tired yourself, sir," he remarked.
"Time you trotted to bed too." He moved round to the back of the settle and paused, looking down at the thick white hair with a curious expression of hesitancy in his eyes.
"Oh, go on! Go on!" said Sir Beverley irritably.

"What are you waiting for ?" Piers stooped impulsively in response, his hand on the old man's shoulder, and kissed him on the forehead.
"Good-night, sir!" he said softly.
The action was purely boyish.

It pleaded for tolerance.

Sir Beverley jerked his head impatiently, but he did not repulse him.
"There! Be off with you!" he said.

"Go to bed and behave yourself! Good-night, you scamp! Good-night!" And Piers went from him lightfooted, a smile upon his lips.