proceeded to show him feather boas of all descriptions and qualities.
Christopher was adamant.

"I want a blue thing that's hanging up in the window, last but one on
the top row," he insisted, disdaining to look at the fluffy
abominations spread around him. He was sure they were not like the
thing Constantia wore now, but it was too late to retreat.

The young woman showed him one she declared was identical.

"I want the one in the window," he persisted doggedly.

In the end he got it, paid for it, saw it packed up and addressed, and
quenching sundry misgivings in his heart, marched out of the shop and
treated himself to a bus homeward.

It is perhaps not out of place to mention here that Jessie had no
misgivings as to the real beauty of the present. She had sighed long
for such a possession, and having never seen Mrs. Wyatt's delicate
costly wrap, was perfectly content with her own and applauded
Christopher's taste loudly.

CHAPTER IX

Christopher continued to visit the Sartins and to find considerable
pleasure in Sam's companionship, who on his few holidays was only too
glad to explore the grey river and its innumerable wharfs with
Christopher. Sam was already a fair waterman; he at least spent all
his scant leisure and scantier pennies in learning that arduous
profession.

Once Mr. Aston visited Block D. with Christopher, and lingered behind
gossiping to Mrs. Sartin while the boy went to meet Sam, expected home
to tea. Sam got nothing out of his mother anent that conversation
except the information that Mr. Aston was "a real Christian gentleman,
who knew what trouble was, and don't you make any mistake, but as 'ow
Mr. Christopher was a lucky young gentleman."

Mr. Aston also found time to visit Sam's master, though on this
occasion he was not accompanied by Christopher, who, indeed, chanced
to be on the river with Sam Sartin that afternoon.

It must not be imagined that Christopher had no other friends than the
humble Sartins. Besides the Wyatt household, half a dozen families
with boys of his age welcomed him gladly enough, but though he was on
good terms with these and though not one of the boys could afford to
despise him as an antagonist in any sport, yet none of them contrived
to have more than a very superficial idea of Christopher Aston. They
took to him at once, but he remained just the good-natured, jolly
acquaintance of the first day, never more, if never less. Christopher,
indeed, th