He could never endure any mention of the Southern blood in Piers.
"And--" Piers' brown fingers grew suddenly tight upon the bony hand he had drawn over his shoulder--"I like going away with you." "Oh, stow it, Piers!" growled Sir Beverley.
"The truth, sir!" protested Piers, with eyes that suddenly danced.

"It does me good to be with you.

It keeps me young." "Young!" ejaculated Sir Beverley.

"You--infant!" Piers broke into a laugh.

He looked a mere boy when he gave himself up to merriment.