They were in London and it was an evening in early spring. There was a faint primrose glow in the sky and a blackbird was whistling at the end of the garden. The hum of the great town was as part of the silence of the room. Now at last must come the moment when Christopher must speak plainly of his darling purpose that had been striving for expression these many months, that purpose which had grown out of a childish fancy in the long ago days when his mother and he toiled along the muddy wearisome roads, or wended painfully through choking white dust under a blazing sun---- * * * * * "Mother, how does roads get made here in the country, are they made like in London?" "Yes, Jim, they were made somewhere by men, not over well, I think, for walkers such as we are." "I'll make roads when I'm big," announced Jim, "real good ones that you can walk on easily." * * * * * So Christopher broke his purpose to Caesar abruptly. "I want to be a Road Engineer." "A what?" "A Roadmaker. To make high roads,--not in towns, but across countries. Roads that will be easy to travel on and will last." Again he stopped, embarrassed, for the vision before him which he only half saw, made him hot and confused. Yet it was a good vision, perhaps that was why--a picture of countless toiling human beings travelling on his roads all down the coming ages, knowing them for good roads, and praising the maker. But he was a boy and was abashed at the vision and hoped Caesar did not guess at it. Caesar, however, saw it all more clearly than Christopher himself and was not abashed but well content. The boy went back to Caesar's side. The thing was done, spoken of, made alive, and now he could plead for it, work to gain his end,--also there was a glow in his face and a new eagerness in his manner. "Oh, Caesar, do say it's possible. I always wanted to do it, even when I was a little chap, and watched men breaking stones on the road." "It's quite possible, only it will want working out. You must go abroad--France--Germany--I must see where to place you." "Yes, I must learn how they are made everywhere, and then--then there must be roads to be made somewhere--in new countries if not here." They talked it out earnestly; Caesar himself caught the boy's enthusiasm, and the moment Mr. Aston came in he too was drawn into the discussion and offered good advice. Thus Christopher's future was decided upon as something to be worked out quite independent of Peter Masters and his millions. Perhaps because he had seen the vision which covered Christopher with shy confusion, Aymer became very prosaic and practical over the details, and Mr. Aston was the only one of the trio who gave any more thought to the boy's dream on its sentimental side. He used to sit in the evenings watching the two poring over maps, letters and guidebooks, thinking far thoughts for them both, occasionally uttering them.