He walked towards the door, then paused on the threshold to fire a parting shot. He loved "chipping" people, as he called it, but he would have cut off his right hand rather than wilfully hurt anyone's feelings. "If the butcher _does_ call to-day by any chance, Summers, there are no orders, you know," he said with a grave face, then raced off into his study before the enraged but complacent housekeeper could reply. "What a boy it is!" she said to herself as she cleared away, "always laughin' and having a joke about something, bless his heart! I'm sure I'd rather see him like that a thousand times, than sitting so quiet as he does sometimes, looking straight in front of him at nothing like, though _I_ know well enough what he sees, and who he's thinking about, poor, lonely boy. I wonder if he'll ever marry that Miss Gay Lawless, whose photograph he looks at so often? If only she'll make him half as happy as he deserves to be," she concluded, as she left the room with her tray. Curiously enough, that was the very question that Chris was asking himself, as he stood in his study gazing at Gay's photograph, though it was not of his own happiness he was thinking at that moment, but of hers--for that was Chris's way. CHAPTER V TWO GIRLS Gay Lawless looked particularly bewitching the while she entertained her visitors that afternoon. She seemed more charming than usual to both Chris and Carlton Mackrell, while even the Professor, who usually noticed nothing, patted her approvingly on the head, and remarked, "You look very well, my dear." Gay was gifted (for no one can acquire it) with perfect taste in clothes, and her tea-gown was cut with that attention to detail which results in simplicity itself. Although one could be with Gay for quite a long time, and have the pleasing assurance that she was the best style in the world, there was always a great difficulty in remembering exactly what she had worn. "What had she on?" envious girls used to ask the men who admired her, and the answer usually was, "I don't know, but it was quite simple, and _such_ good style." To-day she appeared to both men more lovable than ever, and Chris thought what a shame it would be to bury such a bright creature in a place like Epsom, with no one to amuse or to admire her except himself. He took short hold of his fancy before it carried him to further flights, however, as he dropped into a chair by her side, while, much to Carlton's disgust, the latter was button-holed by the Professor. "What's the latest about your Trotters?" inquired Chris, breaking into a smile that accentuated the crow's-feet round his young eyes.