Part 30 (1/2)
”You, too, think me incompetent to look after myself?”
”It is not a matter of competence either, is it? I mean, one can easily understand that Mr. Wyatt is proud of being your....” He stopped lamely.
”Finish your sentence, you tantalising boy.”
”Your caretaker, then,” he concluded defiantly.
”Delicious,” she clapped her hands softly. ”I thought you were going to say 'proprietor.'”
”It is you who are the proprietor of the caretaker, isn't it?”
”The new cadet is worthy his commission,” she p.r.o.nounced with mock gravity.
”It is a great honour, especially since I am not one of the family.”
He never forgot this in her presence. It was as if an overscrupulous remembrance of hard days forced him to disclaim kins.h.i.+p with anything so finely feminine as Constantia Wyatt; as if he found no right of way from his own world of concrete fact into that delicate gracious world of illusions in which he placed her. Such barriers did not exist for her, however, and thence it came that it was to Constantia that Christopher spoke most easily of his relations.h.i.+p to the Aston family.
She put aside his disclaimer now, almost indignantly.
”You belong to Aymer. How can you say you do not belong to us, when you have been so good for him?”
His main claim on them all lay in that, that he was and had been good _for_ the idolised Aymer Aston. He recognised it as she spoke and was content, for the proud generosity of his nature was built on a humility that had no underprops of petty pride.
”That was quite unpremeditated on my part,” he protested whimsically; ”you are all far too good to me. I can never explain it to myself, but I accept it, and realise I am a real millionaire.”
Constantia Wyatt started slightly. Christopher noticed the diamonds on her hair sparkle as she leant forward.
”How did you discover that?” she asked in a low voice.
”My fortune? I was only ten when I came to Caesar, but I must have been a very dense child indeed if I had not known even then that the luck of the G.o.ds was mine--if I had not been sensible of the kindness----”
His voice was low also and he fell into his old bad habit of leaving his sentence unfinished--hardly knowing he had expressed so much.
Constantia gave a sigh of relief, and Christopher again was only aware of the twinkling diamonds, of melting lines of soft velvet and fur, a presence friendly but una.n.a.lysable. They pa.s.sed at that moment a mansion of a prince of the world of money, and she indicated it with a wave of her fan.
”Supposing, Christopher, you could realise some of your imaginary fortune for _his_?”
”Heaven forbid. Think how it was made.”
”The world forgets that.”
”You do not forget,” he answered quickly; ”besides it's much nicer to be adopted than to fight other people for fortune.”
”I thought all boys liked fighting.”
”Not if there's anything better to be done. A Punch and Judy show or a funeral will stop the most violent set-to. I've seen it times, when I was a boy in the street. Sam and I raised a cry one day of 'soldiers'
to stop a chum being knocked down. Then we ran.”
”Oh. Christopher, Christopher, can't you forget it?”
He shook his head.
”I don't want to. It wouldn't be fair to Caesar. Also I couldn't.”