not to remind her he'd never possessed a shetland pony from
birth as she had, also he rose at an unconscionable early hour and
rode in the cold winter's dawn round and round the exercising yard
with the young grooms, while Patricia was warm and fast asleep in bed.
But he had his reward when Mr. Aston, who had heard of his doings from
the stud-groom, took him out with him on one of his rounds of
inspection to outlying farms.

"The boy's got a good seat, and pluck, Aymer," reported Mr. Aston.
"It's more creditable to him because he has had to learn. It's not
second nature to him."

It took him less trouble to learn how to handle a gun, and when "off
duty" to Patricia, spent a vast amount of time in the electric plant
house, learning the A B C of a big dynamo.

Aymer knew all this and made no mention of lessons, for Christopher
was backward in more matters than booklearning and the life on a big
estate, the infinite variety of interests was all good food for the
boy's hungry brain and soul.

He grew apace. Mr. Aston declared he was a changeling and not the thin
little urchin he had first encountered by the mile-stone on the Great
Road. They never alluded to his life before that, though they all knew
of it, and made their own private comparisons and observations.

Christopher became quite attached to the babies so long as they did
not intrude on his own particular hours with Caesar, but he did not get
over a certain shy reserve towards Renata.

"She slips into empty places," he said to Caesar once, and Caesar
laughed at him and told Renata, who coloured and wrinkled her little
forehead.

"He is a nice boy," she said, "and I love him for being so good to
Patricia. There hasn't been a storm since he came."

One day, when it was too wet for even Christopher to be out, the two
children amused themselves by turning out a cupboard in a disused
room. It was a perfect stronghold of treasures. Old riding whips,
Badminton Magazines (marked Aymer Aston, Christopher noticed), tennis
balls, cricket pads, a pair of fencing foils and mask and gloves, a
host of sporting trophies from a hare's pad to a wolf's ear labelled
"Kronigratz," and last of all a box full of photographs.

Patricia was called away before they could investigate this last
treasure trove, and Christopher, not to be alone in the glory of
discovery, carried it off to Caesar's room and lay on the hearth-rug
enjoying it till Caesar, busy working out estate account