"It rains," he said.

"It was not your wont to be driven to the fireside by rain. But rain or
shine 'tis ever the same. You never go abroad."

"To what end?" quoth Sir Oliver, with the same mildness, but a wrinkle
of bewilderment coming gradually between his dark brows. "Do you
suppose I love to meet lowering glances, to see heads approach one
another so that confidential curses of me may be muttered?"

"Ha!" cried Lionel, short and sharp, his sunken eyes blazing suddenly.
"It has come to this, then, that having voluntarily done this thing to
shield me you now reproach me with it."

"I?" cried Sir Oliver, aghast.

"Your very words are a reproach. D'ye think I do not read the meaning
that lies under them?"

Sir Oliver rose slowly, staring at his brother. He shook his head and
smiled.

"Lal, Lal!" he said. "Your wound has left you disordered, boy. With
what have I reproached you?" What was this hidden meaning of my words?
If you will read aright you will see it to be that to go abroad is to
involve myself in fresh quarrels, for my mood is become short, and I
will not brook sour looks and mutterings. That is all."

He advanced and set his hands upon his brother's shoulders. Holding him