But Lucas Errol stepped calmly into the breach.  “This young brother of mine has a way of turning things topsy-turvy,” he said in his easy drawl.  “We just make allowances for him when we can, and kick him when we can’t.  It is I who have wanted to know you, Miss Waring—­it is Miss Waring, I think?—­for some time past.  Won’t you get in beside me and give me the pleasure of making your acquaintance?”

He pulled off his glove and offered her his hand.

Dot instantly took it, but when he would have helped her in she drew back.  “I had better not, really.  Look at my boots!”

“Jump in!” urged Bertie.  “Who cares?”

He sprang suddenly down and seized her impulsively by the waist.  In another second he would have bundled her in without ceremony, but quietly, with no change of countenance, his brother intervened.

“Bertie, behave yourself!  Miss Waring, I beg you will do exactly as you like, but please believe that the state of your boots doesn’t matter a cent.  I should say the same with absolute honesty if I had to clean the car myself.”

“I am quite sure I shouldn’t in your place,” said Dot as she climbed into the car.

Lucas smiled and fished out a spare rug.  “Put it round your shoulders and fold it well over.  You will find it cold when we begin to move.  Are your feet quite warm?  There is a foot-warmer here.  Tuck her in well, Bertie.  That’s the way.”

“You will never get out again,” laughed Bertie, as he shut the door upon her.  “Now, where are we going?  To Baronmead?”

His merry eyes besought her for an instant; then, as she began to shake her head, “Can’t you persuade her, Luke?” he said.

“I think so,” Lucas answered.  “Drive on slowly while I try.  You know there is a friend of yours there, Miss Waring?”

“Lady Carfax?” said Dot quickly.

He bent his head.  “I think she would like you to visit her.  She has so few friends.”

“I would love to, of course,” Dot said impetuously.  “But—­you know, I’ve never visited her before, though I have often longed to.  People don’t call at the Manor.  Not even Dad goes there.  And in any case, I am hardly grown up enough to pay calls.  Wouldn’t she—­are you sure she wouldn’t think it very presumptuous of me to go and see her?”

“That is the last thing I should expect from her,” Lucas answered, with quiet conviction.

“She is very proud,” Dot began.

“She is very miserable,” he said.

Dot’s eyes softened.  “Oh, poor Lady Carfax!” she said.  “So you know that, too!”

“I have seen her only twice,” he said.  “Yes, I know it.”

Dot’s eyes widened.  “Only twice!  Why, surely it must be three weeks nearly since her accident.”

“I believe it is.  But it was serious, you know, and she has made a very slow recovery.  The doctor has only just allowed her to be removed to another room.”