Christopher Hibbault, Roadmaker Part 29

Christopher read and studied, but did nothing definite, and the New Year slipped along with rapid, silent foot. It was Caesar who at length broke up the pleasant drifting interlude and he did it as deliberately as he did everything else, urged by his haunting desire to see Christopher finally committed to the future he had chosen.

"Why don't you go and see those road experiments they are trying in Kent?" Aymer asked one day.

"Frost-proof roads? They are no good. It was tried in Germany. What I would like is to run down to Cornwall and see how the Atlantic 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 partners.h.i.+p 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, pa.s.sionate, 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 a.s.sisting 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 nave 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, s.h.i.+fting his position a little, whereby a cus.h.i.+on fell to the ground.

With a gust of petulance he pitched another after it, and then in rather a shamed way, told Christopher to ring for Vespasian to put the confounded things right.

But Christopher did no such thing. He put his strong arm round Caesar, raised him, and rearranged the refractory cus.h.i.+ons, talking the while to divert attention from this unheard-of proceeding.

"I shall go to London to-morrow and study Sam in order to oust him from your fickle affections," he announced. "Seriously, Caesar. I ought to be running round seeing things a bit."

And Caesar, having brought him to the conclusion he wished, signified his entire approval.

The following morning when Christopher came in to bid Caesar good-bye, he found Mr. Aston also there, standing by the fire with a humorous smile on his face in evident appreciation of some joke.

"Christopher," said Aymer severely, "I have something important to say to you."

Christopher drew himself up to attention as he had learnt to do when under rebuke as a boy.

"If you are going to make a habit of running up and down to town and the ends of the earth on ridiculous business and worrying everyone's life out with time-tables (it was notorious Christopher never consulted anyone about his comings and goings), you must understand you cannot use Renata's carriage and pair for your station work. Max's pony is not up to your weight, neither is the station fly. I find on inquiry my father occasionally requires his motor for his own use; anyhow, it is not supposed to get muddy. So you had better buy one for yourself."

He held out a blank signed cheque.

Christopher looked from one to the other. It was the dream of his life to possess a motor, but this free gift of one was overwhelming.

"Of course," went on Caesar hastily, "I shan't give you a birthday present too. It's to get out of that, you understand. You are twenty-one, aren't you? And it's only half mine, the other half is from St. Michael. I don't know where your manners are, Christopher; I thought I had brought you up to be polite. Go and thank the gentleman nicely."

Christopher turned to Mr. Aston, but he was beyond words. He could only look his overwhelming grat.i.tude.

"It's not I," said that gentleman, hastily. "I only told Caesar I'd like to go shares--the lamps or bells or something. Get a good horn with a good rich tone."

Christopher took the cheque with shaking fingers.

"I can't thank you, Caesar, it's too big. Why didn't you let me earn it?"

"I wanted to prove to you the justice of Sam's opinion of me. Hurry up; you'll miss your train if there is one at this hour at all."

"You've not filled up the cheque."

"Not I. From what I know of your business methods you'll get what you want at half the price I should. I'm not going to let St. Michael fling away good money."

In his excitement Christopher forgot to wait for Patricia, who had promised to walk to the station with him. (Caesar's complaint anent the horse vehicles was even more unfounded than his grievance over the time-table.) But seeing him start, she ran after him and made some candid and sisterly remarks on his behaviour and was only mollified by a full explanation of his unwonted state of elation. The rest of the walk was spent in discussing the merits of various species of motors.

CHAPTER XIV

Christopher spent the whole of the day inspecting possible motors, perfectly aware all the time of the one he meant to purchase, but in no wise prepared to forego the pleasures of inspection. Sam was not free that evening, so he dined with Constantia Wyatt, whose elusive personality continued to remove her in his eyes far from relations.h.i.+p with ordinary women. She was going to a "first night" at His Majesty's Theatre as a preliminary to her evening's amus.e.m.e.nt, and her husband, honestly engrossed in work, seized on Christopher at once as an adequate subst.i.tute for his own personal escort. He would meet her with the carriage after and go with her to the d.u.c.h.ess of Z----, but it would be a great help to him to have a few early evening hours for his book; so he explained with elaborate care.

"Basil is so deliciously mediaeval and quaint," Constantia confided to her young cavalier as the carriage drove off; "he quite seriously believes women cannot go to a theatre or anywhere without an escort, even in our enlightened age. I a.s.sure you it is quite remarkable the number of parties we attend together; people are beginning to talk about it. If it's impossible for him to come himself he always seems to have hosts of cousins or relations ready to take his place. Oh, charming people; but quite a family corps, a sort of 'Guard of Honour,' as if I were Royalty--and really, at my time of life."

She turned her radiantly beautiful face to Christopher. She was indeed one of those beloved of time and it seemed to Christopher as he saw her in the crude flas.h.i.+ng glare from the streets without, that the past ten years which had made of him a man had left her a girl still, but since he was as yet no adept at pretty speeches he kept the thought to himself and said shyly:

"It is not a question of age at all."