hought, that his mother was at moments so apparently
elaborate. He felt her elaboration the more when it was contrasted with
the transparent simplicity of Rosamund. Even Robin, he fancied, was
at moments rather astonished by it, and perhaps pushed on towards a
criticism at present beyond the range of his powers. But Mrs. Leith's
complete self-possession, even when immersed in the intricacies of a
baby-language totally unintelligible to her son, made it impossible to
give her a hint to be a little less--well, like herself when at No.
5. So he resigned himself to a faint discomfort which he felt sure was
shared by Rosamund, although neither of them ever spoke of it. But they
never discussed his mother, and always assumed that she was ideal both
as mother-in-law and grandmother. She was Robin's godmother and had
given him delightful presents. Bruce Evelin and Daventry were his
godfathers.

Bruce Evelin now lived alone in the large house in Great Cumberland
Place. He made no complaint of his solitude, which indeed he might be
said to have helped to bring about by his effective, though speechless,
advocacy of Daventry's desire. But it was obvious to affectionate eyes
that he sometimes felt rather homeless, and that he was happy to be in
the little Westminster home where such a tranquil domesticity reigned.
Dion sometimes felt as if Bruce Evelin were watching over that home in
a wise old man's way, rather as Rosamund watched over Robin, with a
deep and still concentration. Bruce Evelin had, he confessed, "a
great feeling" for Robin, whom he treated with quiet common sense as
a responsible entity, bearing, with a matchless wisdom, that entity's
occasional lapses from decorum. Once, for instance, Robin chose Bruce
Evelin's arms unexpectedly as a suitable place to be sick in, without
drawing down upon himself any greater condemnation than a quiet, "How
lucky he selected a godfather as his receptacle!"

And Mr. Thrush of John's Court? One evening, when he returned home, Dion
found that old phenomenon in the house paying his respects to Robin. He
was quite neatly dressed, and wore beneath a comparatively clean collar
a wisp of black tie that was highly respectable, though his top hat,
deposited in the hall, was still as the terror that walketh in darkness.
His poor old gray eyes were pathetic, and his long, battered old face
was gently benign; but his nose, fiery and tremendous as ever, still
made proclamation of his "failing." D