honour had fooled him, and forestalled him
in this matter of his son with deliberate intent to frustrate any
advances he might make, it would go hard with them in the end, cousins
or no cousins. Such was his first thought; but he had yet to prove
they were not simply waiting for a sign to deliver back his son to
him, in which case Peter was not unprepared to be grateful, for his
heart--and he had one--had gone out to the plucky, determined young
man who had lied so bravely. Peter determined, therefore, he would
give Charles Aston a chance and see what happened. In a blindly,
inarticulate way he felt it was impossible to play with Aymer, he was
even conscious it was a matter of great moment to him, though he could
not in any manner see why it was so.

"Nevil will survive if we put him off a little longer," said Peter as
they crossed the hall, "I want to see you on a private matter, Cousin
Charles."

Mr. Aston led the way without a word to his own room. He made no doubt
as to what the matter was. Perhaps the shadow of the expected
interview had lain too heavily on him of late to leave room for
suspicion of other affairs.

It was a long, cheerful room, lined with books, and the furniture was
solid and shabby with long service. There was an indefinite atmosphere
of peace and repose about it, of leisured days haunted by no grey
thoughts, very typical of the owner. The window stood open, though a
fire burned clearly on the plain brick hearth, beneath a big hooded
chimney-piece.

Mr. Aston indicated a big easy chair to his visitor and seated himself
at his writing table, from whence he could see, behind Peter, on the
far wall, a portrait of Aymer painted in the pride of his life and
youth, so wonderfully like even now in its strong colour and forcible
power, and so full of subtle differences and fine distinctions.

"I don't know even if you'll listen to me," began Peter, who knew very
well Charles Aston would refuse to listen to no man; "fifteen years
ago you told me you'd said your last word on the subject."

"I beg your pardon, Peter, it was you who said the subject was closed
between us."

"Ah, yes. So I did. May I reopen it?"

"If it can serve any good purpose, but you know my opinions."

"I thought perhaps they might have altered with the changing years,"
said Peter blandly.

"Not one bit, I assure you."

"Really. It never strikes you that I was justified in attending to
Elizabeth's very plainly expressed