ill and presently said something to
Christopher that Nevil did not catch, but he saw the boy free her and
Patricia remained silently looking out of the window. Christopher
turned to pick up his book, and for the first time remembered Nevil
was present and grew rather red. Nevil had watched them both with a
speculative eye, for the moment an historian of the future rather than
of the past. He said nothing, however, but having discoursed a while
on the possibility of skating next day, sauntered away.

He came to anchor eventually in Aymer's room, and sat smoking by the
fire, his long legs crossed and the contemplative mood in the
ascendency. His brother knew from experience that Nevil had something
to say, and would say it in his own inimitable way if left alone.

"Christopher's a remarkable youth," he said presently.

"Have you just discovered it?" said Aymer drily.

"He is no respecter of persons," pursued Nevil quietly; "by the way,
has it ever struck you, Aymer, that he'll marry some day?"

"There's time before us, yet. I hope. He isn't quite sixteen, Nevil."

"Yes, but there it is," he waved his hand vaguely. "I think of it for
myself when I look at Max sometimes."

Aymer wanted to laugh out loud, which would have reduced his brother's
communicative mood to mere frivolity, and he wished to get at what lay
behind, so he remained grave.

"There's Patricia, too," went on Nevil in the same vague way. "She,
too, will do it some day. It's lamentable, but unavoidable. And
talking of Patricia brings me back to Christopher's remarkableness."

He related the little scene he had just witnessed in his slow, clear
way, made no comment thereon, but poked the fire meditatively, when he
had finished.

Aymer, too, was silent.

"You are her sole guardian, are you not?" he asked presently.

"With Renata. I wonder, Aymer, if anyone could have controlled that
unhappy Connell?"

Aymer ignored the irrelevant remark.

"Renata does not count. Nevil, would you have any objections--as her
guardian?"

Nevil strolled across to his brother and sat on the edge of his couch.
He took up a sandy kitten, descendant of one of Christopher's early
pets, and began playing with it, attempting to wrap it up in his
handkerchief.

"If you would mind, we will guard against the remote contingency at
which you hint, by keeping Christopher away when he is a bit older,"
said Aymer steadily.

"My dear Caesar, it's not I who might object--it's