ever imagined there would be any difficulty in this
interview, yet he found himself unaccountably at a loss before these
two men. The absurdly inadequate idea that they might consider it
unjustifiable greed in him to grasp so great a prize as Patricia
Connell when they had already given him so much assailed him.

Both men were aware of his unusual embarrassment and neither of them
made the slightest attempt to help him out, for Mr. Aston had a very
fair idea of what had happened, and had conveyed his suspicions to
Aymer. They both found a certain amusing fascination in seeing how he
would deal with the situation, and it was a situation so pleasing to
them both that they failed to realise it might present real
difficulties to him.

He faced them suddenly, and plunged into the matter in his usual
direct way.

"Caesar and St. Michael, I've something to tell you both. I am not sure
if it will be news to you or not, but Patricia has said she will marry
me."

He came to an abrupt stop, and turned away again towards the fire.

"It's very good news," said Mr. Aston quietly, "if in no way
surprising."

"You don't think I'm asking too much when I've had so much given me? I
feel abominably greedy."

"You might think of me in the matter," protested Aymer, plaintively.
"What on earth does it matter if you are greedy so long as you provide
me with a real interest in life. I began to think you meant to defraud
me of my clear rights."

A very grateful Christopher crossed the room and took his usual seat
on the sofa.

"I've been a blind idiot," he admitted, "or rather an idle one. I've
known for years it must be Patricia, and left it at that."

"Why?" demanded Aymer.

But that he could not or would not tell them.

Mr. Aston then suggested Christopher should explain what he meant to
do concerning his inheritance.

"Which you have treated so far with scandalous disrespect," put in
Aymer.

"I can't touch it. It would be treason to--to my mother. And I don't
want it. I hate it, the way it's done, the caring for it."

There was something so foreign to Christopher's usual finality of
statement in this, that the two older men looked at each other with
sudden apprehension and then avoided the other's eye. For in their
secret hearts they both knew that Christopher must presently arrive at
the unconfessed certainty that had come to them, that this was not a
matter in which he was free to act as he would. The call had come for