Aymer saw the children and called to them. Patricia greeted him with the air of a young princess and drew herself up when he said she had grown, and would soon be a child instead of a baby. Then he faced Christopher round towards Renata, who had suddenly become grave and shy. "Here is Christopher, so you can approve or condemn Nevil by your own judgment, Renata. Christopher, shake hands with Mrs. Aston." Christopher did as he was told, but he realised they had been speaking of him and felt on the defensive. However, he sat down as near to Caesar as he could. They talked of all manner of people and things of which he knew nothing, traditional jokes cropped up, and Aymer's propensity for teasing asserted itself in a prominent manner. Renata never failed to respond and never failed to claim Nevil's protection and to look delightfully shy and dignified and feminine. Presently the children were sent for. To Christopher's indignant amazement they were plumped down on Aymer and allowed to treat him much as if he was a new species of giant plaything. Charlotte, in her efforts to burrow under Aymer's arm, rolled off the edge of the sofa and was deftly caught by Christopher, who deposited her on the floor. She immediately tried to clamber up again, but Aymer could not second her efforts with his left arm. "Put her up again, Christopher," he said. But Christopher apparently did not hear, and Mr. Aston, who had been watching, came to the rescue. Christopher slipped away to the window. "A question of a third baby, I think," said Mr. Aston softly as he rearranged Charlotte, and Aymer, looking sharply at Christopher, laughed. When Christopher went to bid him good-night, he found Caesar alone, looking tired and doing nothing, not even reading. Christopher said good-night gravely. "It's not very late," remarked Aymer. "Stay with me a bit." He patted the chair beside him. Christopher with rather a hot face obeyed. "How do you like Marden?" "I--I don't know yet. There seems to be a lot of people here." "It's home, you see. We all come home when we want to see each other and have people round." "Yes, I suppose everyone wants to see their people sometimes." "Don't you like seeing people?" "I haven't any of my own," said Christopher, without looking at him. "That's unkind. You have us." Christopher changed the subject. "Do those--those little children live here?" "Yes. It's their home. They are rather jolly little kids. What's the matter, Christopher?" Christopher assured him nothing was the matter. Aymer continued in his most matter-of-fact voice.