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Christopher, however, was undaunted, and the few hours he did not spend in Aymer's company, he spent toiling round the links points behind Patricia, play she never so badly.

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.

"And so," quoth the earl, taking up the tale "so mare and horse were brought by Aymer's squires to his English hall; and Aymer's son, Sir Reginald, bore the cross, and bestrode the fatal steed, without fear and without scathe.

From time to time he paused and heard Aymer's sharp, unreasonable remarks to his brother. A memory of the old bad days came so forcibly to Mr. Aston that he laid aside his pen at last and sat listening with an aching heart. He knew those quick flashes of temper were a sign of irritation brought to a white heat.

Aston knew as well as Aymer that neither of them would move from their position, and if they had acted wrongly in following the wishes of the dead woman in preference to the material instincts of the living man, they must accept the result, and Christopher must accept it, too. But he felt keenly Aymer's failure to present an unbiassed face to the turn of circumstances.

Only, Christopher, remember Aston is my name, and I am only lending it to you, and you must take very great care of it." "Isn't it his name too?" The child edged a little nearer his friend, and looked at Aymer. "Yes, it's Aymer's name too.

Christopher, with his uncanny, quick intuition of Aymer's innermost mind, was not deceived by his ordinary casual manner, and became, to Aymer's secret satisfaction, a little suppressed and thoughtful. It was at this point the boy had his first introduction to poor little Patricia's temper.

Also it was Vespasian who explained to him woodenly, in answer to his direct question, that the scar on Mr. Aymer's forehead was the result of a shooting accident. His revolver had gone off as he was cleaning it, said Vespasian, had nearly killed him, had left him paralysed on one side, so he'd never be better. He added, Mr. Aymer didn't like it talked about.

'To the rescue! cried bold King Richard, and on rushed the crusaders to Aymer's help; when lo! and suddenly the ranks severed, and the black steed emerged! Aymer still on the selle, but motionless, and his helm battered and plumeless, his brand broken, his arm drooping. On came man and horse, on, charging on, not against Infidel but Christian.

Constantia nodded, still gazing at the fire. "Aymer's training on the top of that," she mused, "I suppose you are accounted for." He grew red and looked a boy again. "I should have much to account for if I failed them." "Them?" She swung round. "Cæsar and my mother." There was a pause. "And so you will go to Belgium and think?" she said lightly. "No, I shall go to Belgium and work."