th
a sense of strange fatigue, to be sitting at Caesar's side and to find
the restless discomfort evaporate as they talked, even as his boyish
troubles had melted in that companionship. That must come later: for
the present Fate--or Patricia--made a demand on him to which he was
bound to answer. Where a weaker nature would have said "impossible,"
he simply found an ordinary action rendered difficult by his own
private view of it, therefore it behooved him to close the shutters on
that outlook if he could, and ignore the difficulty.

Renata, who came out with Patricia, protested a little indignantly at
the latter's exaction.

"It is so inconsiderate of Patricia, just as you have had such a
journey. Why do you give in to her, Christopher?"

"To-day is as good as any day," he answered her, "perhaps the visitor
will have gone when we return."

"Oh, I hope so," said Renata fervently, and then blushed at her own
inhospitality. "I mean, Caesar would rather have you to himself, I am
sure."

"And I would rather have Caesar unaccompanied. So there is some use in
Patricia's fancy."

"Of course," put in that young lady, "there always is. Please do not
waste precious time talking. Tell me where I am to sit, Christopher."

"I'll take every care of her," said Christopher, looking at Renata,
"we'll be back in time for dinner. Be kind and get rid of Mr. Masters
by then."

"Like a dear little angel," concluded Patricia, kissing her; "think
how he bores Nevil, and don't be hospitable."

Christopher settled her in the seat beside him, tucked her in with
rugs, put up the front screen and started.

For a few short minutes the joy of having her there beside him, his
sole charge for some golden hours to come, his to carry in a mad rush
if he would to the ends of the earth, obliterated for a moment the
bewildering mist.

He drove for some way in silence. Patricia was too much absorbed in
the pleasures of swift motion to talk. Her first words, however, shut
down the mists on him again.

"Geoffry must have a car," she declared. "He must get one just like
this."

"I thought Geoffry was to be left behind this afternoon?"

"Oh, I suppose he was. I don't believe you are a bit pleased about it
really, Christopher."

He clutched at the truth as a plank of safety.

"Well, you can't expect me to be glad to lose your company, can you? I
shall never make a golfer now."

She laughed at that and recommended a course at St. Andrew's un