Aston House, and Aymer and Christopher continued to
lead a peaceful and uninterrupted existence there.

Christopher continued to occupy his leisure with a prodigious number
of pets and the construction of mechanical contrivances for their
convenience, in which he showed no little ingenuity. There were
occasionally tragedies in connection with the pets which were turned
to good account by the master of their fate even at the expense of his
own feelings--and fingers--as on the occasion when he cremated a
puppy-dog who had come to an untimely end. Caesar objected to this
experiment, and when the next catastrophe occurred, which was to a
guinea-pig, a more commonplace funeral had to be organised.

But this tragedy became curiously enough linked with a new memory in
Christopher's mind, of more lasting importance than the demise of "Sir
Joshua Reynolds" of the brown spots.

It happened this-wise. Sir Joshua having stolen a joyous but unsafe
hour of liberty fell a victim to the cunning of the feline race.
Christopher rescued the corpse and heaped tearful threats of vengeance
on the murderess, and then tore into Caesar's room to find sympathy and
comfort. He tumbled in at the window with Sir Joshua in his arms, and
flung himself on Caesar before he had observed the presence of a
visitor--a stranger, too. He was a big, florid man, with a
good-natured face and great square chin, and he was standing with his
back to the fire, looking very much at home. He gave a slight start as
Christopher tumbled in, and a queer little cynical smile dawned on his
face as he watched the two.

"Hallo, Aymer, I didn't know you had----"

"Go and get ready for tea, Christopher," interrupted Aymer
peremptorily, "and take out that animal. Don't you see I have a
visitor?"

Christopher, who had just perceived the stranger, hardly disguised his
lack of appreciation of so inopportune a caller, and went out to see
what consolation could be got out of Vespasian. When he returned,
tidy and clean, even to Vespasian's satisfaction, he found the two men
talking hard and slipped quietly into his seat behind the little
tea-table hoping to be unobserved; but Caesar called him out of it.

"Peter," he said, "let me present my adopted son to you. Christopher,
shake hands with Mr. Masters."

The big man and the small boy looked at each other gravely, and then
Christopher extended his hand. Aymer looked out of the window and
apparently took no notice of them.