it would be next
time--_dreadfully_ naughty."

Charlotte opened her eyes very wide.

"Would you be dreffly angry?"

"Yes, and very unhappy. I shouldn't let you come to see me any more."

At that Miss Charlotte flung her arms round his neck, protesting she
wasn't naughty and Uncle Aymer must love her. Peace was at last
restored and Aymer drew pictures of innumerable mice carrying off
golden pennies and only sent the children away when Christopher came
in.

He gave no hint to Christopher that he had solved the problem of the
lost money and discovered the boy's own compromise between truth and
dishonesty. He was anxious to see whether Christopher's moral standard
was really satisfied with the same compromise or not. So he treated
him as far as he could in his natural manner during the next few days,
but found it a little difficult. Fond of Christopher as he was, this
was just one of those points where the enormous difference between the
child of one's own self,--of self plus the unknown--and the adopted
child of others, became visible. The fault was so inexplicable to
Aymer, so utterly foreign to his whole understanding, that he had
nothing but contempt for it, whereas, had Christopher been his own
son, love would have overridden contempt with fear.

Christopher, with his uncanny, quick intuition of Aymer's innermost
mind, was not deceived by his ordinary casual manner, and became, to
Aymer's secret satisfaction, a little suppressed and thoughtful.

It was at this point the boy had his first introduction to poor little
Patricia's temper.

The two children had been riding and returned home by way of the brook
over which their ambitious dreams had already built a bridge.
Patricia, who was in rather a petulant mood, reproached Christopher
rather sharply for having got rid of his last month's pocket money so
prematurely. "Just like a boy," she said, wrinkling her nose
contemptuously. She had five whole shillings left of her money and
when Christopher could double that they were to go to the brick-yard
and bargain.

"Haven't you any at all?" she questioned impatiently.

Christopher, who was examining the proposed site, did not answer at
once, and she repeated her question.

"I have some," he confessed unwillingly.

"Well, can't we start with that. You said you hadn't any on Monday.
How much is it?"

But Christopher declined to answer.

Patricia persisted in her point. If Christopher had _any money_ they
coul