tic Road
stands the winter, only it's such a beastly way down by train."

"It would certainly interfere with golf?" returned Caesar drily.

"I'm beginning to play. Leverson says if I work really hard I may do
something in a few years. Patricia says I shan't even if I live to be
as old as Methuselah; so I must stick to it to prove her wrong."

"That's highly desirable, of course. All the same she might leave you
a little leisure to play round with your hobby. You mustn't work too
hard or Sam will beat you yet."

"How is Sam?"

"He came to see me before I left town. He is doing well. They will
take him in as junior partner in a year or two. I always said he'd do
better than you." He sighed profoundly.

"What a pity you didn't adopt him instead of me," retorted Christopher
teasingly. "Is it too late to exchange? Buy him a senior partnership
and leave me a free lance."

And because Aymer did not reply at once to his familiar nonsense, he
turned quickly and surprised a strange look in the blue eyes, a
fleeting, shadowy love, passionate, fierce, jealous. It lost itself
almost as he caught it and Aymer drawled out in his indifferent tone:

"It really might be worth considering. For then I could go back to
London and he could come home every night. Besides, Sam really
appreciates me."

But it was Christopher who had no answer ready this time.

The look he had surprised gripped his heart. It revealed something
hitherto unguessed by him. He came and sat on the edge of the sofa,
and though he spoke lightly as was his manner, his voice and eyes
belied his words.

"On the contrary, Sam does not appreciate you at all. He regards you
as an erratic philanthropist with a crank for assisting deserving
boys."

"A just estimate."

"Not at all. It is wrong in every particular."

"Prove it."

"You are not erratic; you are methodical to a fault. You are not a
crank; therefore not a philanthropist. And you show a lamentable
disregard to the moral qualities of those to whom you extend a helping
hand."

"Jealousy."

"Jealousy of whom, please?"

"Of Sam."

Christopher considered thoughtfully.

"I believe you are right," he returned at last in a tone of naive
surprise. "How stupid of me not to have guessed before. I had always
tried to think you helped him to gratify me. It was a great strain on
my credulity. Now I understand."

"It had nothing to do with you at all," retorted Caesar irritably,
shifting his position