ith
as much fortitude as he could command.

Whatever might be the weather outside, it seemed always warm and sunny
indoors at Bert's home. The Lloyds lived in an atmosphere of love, both
human and Divine. They loved one another dearly, but they loved God
still more, and lived close to Him. Religion was not so much expressed
as implied in their life. It was not in the least obtrusive, yet one
could never mistake their point of view. Next to its sincerity, the
strongest characteristic of their religion was its cheeriness. They saw
no reason why the children of the King should go mourning all their
days; on the contrary, was it not rather their duty, as well as their
privilege, to establish the joy of service?

Brought up amid such influences, Bert was, as a natural consequence,
entirely free from those strange misconceptions of the true character of
religion which keep so many of the young out of the kingdom. He saw
nothing gloomy or repellent in religion. That he should love and serve
God seemed as natural to him as that he should love and serve his
parents. Of their love and care he had a thousand tokens daily. Of the
Divine love and care he learned from them, and that they should believe
in it was all the reason he required for his doing the same. He asked no
further evidence.

There were, of course, times when the spirit of evil stirred within him,
and moved him to rebel against authority, and to wish, as he put it
himself one day when reminded of the text, "Thou God seest me," that
"God would let him alone for a while, and not be always looking at him."
But then he wasn't an angel by any means, but simply a hearty, healthy,
happy boy, with a fair share of temper, and as much fondness for having
his own way as the average boy of his age.

His parents were very proud of him. They would have been queer parents
if they were not. Yet they were careful to disguise it from him as far
as possible. If there was one thing more than another that Mr. Lloyd
disliked in children, and, therefore, dreaded for his boy, it was that
forward, conscious air which comes of too much attention being paid them
in the presence of their elders. "Little folks should be seen and not
heard," he would say kindly but firmly to Bert, when that young person
was disposed to unduly assert himself, and Bert rarely failed to take
the hint.

One trait of Bert's nature which gave his father great gratification was
his fondness for reading. He never h