Part 16 (2/2)
Peter grinned.
”Ah, but I was a genius. I couldn't help it. It would have been the same had I been born in the gutter. No, I believe in the rough-and-tumble school to make hard-headed men.”
”Well, for all you know, Christopher may be a genius, or be born with a golden spoon in his mouth.”
The other looked up sharply.
”Nevil has a boy of his own, hasn't he?”
”Don't be a fool if you can help it, Peter. Other people have golden spoons besides the gilded Aston family.”
Peter shrugged his shoulders. ”It's no business of mine, of course, but the boy looks sharp. Pity to spoil him. Ha, Ha. I don't spoil mine.”
He got up yawning and sauntered over to the fireplace and so did not see Aymer's rigid face go white and then red.
”I've got a boy--I think it's a boy--somewhere. Daresay you've forgotten. You weren't very sociable, poor old chap, when it happened.
About a year after your accident. He's about somewhere or other. Oh, I back my own theories! I don't suppose he's a genius, so the rough-and-tumble school for _him_.”
”You know the school?”
”I can put my hand on him when I want to--that's not yet. The world can educate him till I'm ready to step in.”
”If he'll have you.”
Peter chuckled. ”He won't be a fool--even if he's not a genius. Well, you think of my proposition, I'll go halves.”
”How you have disappointed me, Peter. I thought you called from a disinterested desire to see me after all these years.”
”Twelve years, isn't it? Well, you look better than you did then. I didn't think you would come through--didn't think you meant to. I'm sorry to miss Cousin Charles. He doesn't approve of me, but he's too polite to say so, even in a letter. How does he wear?”
”Well, on the whole. He works too hard.”
The other spread out his hands.
”Works. And to what end? I'm glad to have seen you again. It's like old times, if you weren't on that beastly sofa, poor old chap.”
”Perhaps you will call again when father is in,” said Aymer steadily, with a mute wonder if a square inch of him was left unbruised.
”To tell the truth, I'm rarely in London. I work from Birmingham and New York, and calling is an expensive amus.e.m.e.nt to a busy man.”
”Produces nothing?”
”Yes, a good deal of pleasure. It's worth it occasionally.”
He stood over his cousin, looking down at him with quite genuine concern and liking in his eyes. His size, his aggressiveness, his blundering disregard of decency towards trouble, everything about him was on such a gigantic scale that one could not weigh him by any accepted standard. Aymer knew it, and notwithstanding Peter's unique powers of hurting him to the soul, he made no attempt to scale him, but met him on his own ground and ignored the torture.
”What has it cost you exactly, this visit?”
Peter considered quite gravely.
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