you. You know what
Patricia is, poor child. I thought it might not fit in with your
plans. She hasn't a penny of her own, though, of course, Renata and I
will see to that." He knotted the handkerchief at the four corners and
swung it to and fro to the astonishment of the imprisoned kitten.

"Christopher has nothing either," said Aymer almost sharply, "and I
shall see to that, with your permission, Nevil. That unfortunate
kitten!"

Nevil released it. It scampered over the floor, hid under a chair and
then rushed back at him and scrambled up his leg.

"Indeed, if things turn out as I hope, I shall have to provide for
him," went on Aymer steadily, "indeed I wish to do so anyway. It will
mean less for Max, but----"

"What a beastly ugly kitten," remarked Nevil suddenly with great
emphasis, placing the animal very gently on the floor again.

"Don't swear, Nevil," retorted Aymer with a little ghost of a smile.

"Very well," answered his brother meekly, "but it is. Aymer, don't be
an ass, old fellow--Max won't want anything."

He lounged out presently before Aymer could make up his mind to vex
him further with the question of Max's inheritance.

The property set aside for the use of the son and heir of the Astons
provided a very handsome income, the original capital of which could
not be touched. In early days Aymer had found the income barely
sufficient for his wants. He spent it freely now--the Astons were no
misers, but his father and he managed to nearly double the original
capital and this was Aymer's to do with as he would. Apparently he
meant it for Christopher. It was one of Nevil's little weaknesses that
he could not endure any reminder of the fact that to him and his small
son would the line descend, and that his brother's was but a life
interest, and his position as his father's heir a merely formal matter
of no actual value. Poor Nevil, who was the least self-seeking of men,
could not endure any reminder of his elder brother's real condition of
life.

CHAPTER X

There was a certain princely building in Birmingham where all the
business connected with the name of Peter Masters was transacted. On
each floor were long rooms full of clerks bending over rows of desks,
carrying on with automatic regularity the affairs of each separate
concern. Thus on the ground floor the Lack Vale Coal Company worked
out its grimy history, on the second floor the Brunt Rubber Company
had command, on the fifth the gr