ed much for him, but the reward reaped for his devotion was
the knowledge that of their friendship was woven a curtain of infinite
beauty that helped to shut away the tragedy of Aymer's life.

CHAPTER III

The question that chiefly occupied Mr. Aston's mind during the first
days of Christopher's advent was whether Aymer had gathered in those
ten long years of captivity sufficient strength of purpose to set
aside once and for all the sharp emotions and memories the boy's
presence must inevitably awake.

When Aymer had first approached him on the subject of adopting a boy
he had consented willingly enough, but when, coincident with this,
Fate--or Providence--had pointed out to them the person of Christopher
Hibbault, he, Mr. Aston, though he agreed it was impossible to
disregard the amazing chance, had sighed to himself and trembled lest
the carefully erected edifice of control and endurance that hedged in
his son should be unequal to the strain.

But after the first evening Aymer Aston betrayed by no sign whatever
that the past had any power to harm him through the medium of little
Christopher, and his father grew daily more satisfied and content over
the wisdom of their joint action. They stayed in town all that summer.
Mr. Aston was acting as Secretary to a rather important Commission and
even when it was not sitting he was employed in gathering in
information which could only be obtained in London. Nothing would
induce Aymer to go away without his father. He hated the publicity of
a railway journey even after ten years of helplessness, and the long
drive to Marden Court could not be undertaken lightly. So they stayed
where they were, a proceeding which seemed less strange to Christopher
than to such part of the outside world who chose to interest itself in
Mr. Aston's doings.

The August sun dealt gently with the beautiful garden, and not a few
hardworking men, tied, like Mr. Aston, to town, congratulated
themselves on his presence, when they shared its restful beauty in the
hot summer evenings.

Christopher meanwhile adapted himself to his new life with amazing
ease. He accepted his surroundings without question, but with quiet
appreciation, and if certain customs, such as a perpetual changing of
clothes and washing of hands were irksome, he took the good with the
bad, and accommodated himself to the ways of his new friends
resignedly. But he was haunted with the idea that the present state of
things