Part 17 (1/2)
”Let me see. I was to have seen Tomlands. He's ceding his rights in the Lodal Valley Affair and his figure goes up each day.” He considered again. ”Three thousand,” he answered with a wide grin.
”I am abashed at my value,” said Aymer gravely. ”I daren't ask you to come again now.”
”Oh, I'll have an extravagant fit again, some day. Where's the boy?”
His hand was in his pocket and Aymer heard the c.h.i.n.k of coin.
”At work, or should be. Don't tip him, please, Peter. He has as much as he needs.”
”How do you know? A boy needs as much as he can get. Well, don't forget my advice. Don't educate him.”
He was gone at last. Presumably to gather in the Lodal Rights before their value further increased.
Charles Aston did not betray any particular sorrow at missing the visitor.
”It's rather odd his turning up again now after forgetting our existence so long,” he remarked, frowning. ”Of course we've had correspondence--not very agreeable either.”
”I can hardly wonder at his not coming to see me, at all events. It's nearly twelve years since we met, and I wasn't very polite to him that time,” said Aymer wearily.
”There was a reasonable excuse for you.”
”I'm afraid I did not consider reason much in those days, sir. If he'd been a saint in disguise I should have behaved like a brute just the same.”
Charles Aston came and stood looking down with a kind, quiet, satisfied smile. The att.i.tude was the same as Peter Masters' and Aymer, remembering it, smiled too.
”What did he really want, Aymer? He never came for nothing.”
”To induce me to go on the Stock-Exchange in partners.h.i.+p with him, I think. Thought it would be less boring than lying here all day with nothing to do.”
Charles Aston opened his mouth to protest and shut it resolutely, turned and walked down the room ruffling his hair, so that when he went back to Aymer, his iron-grey thatch was more picturesque than neat.
Aymer laughed.
”Who's lost his temper now?” he demanded.
His father looked in a gla.s.s and, perceiving the devastation, attempted to remedy it.
”I'm awfully sorry,” he said with much contrition, ”but I can't keep my temper over Peter. Has he improved?”
”Not a bit. He doesn't hurt, father, he's too big,” he paused a moment, ”he saw Christopher.”
Mr. Aston gave Aymer a scrutinising glance.
”It was unavoidable, I suppose.”
”I did not try to stop it.”
”And the result?”
”There was no result except he appeared impressed with his mental capacity.”