my seemed far
more beautiful than the very grandest apartment in Aunt Gregory's grand
house.

"If I could only stay here always, Aunt Amy, how happy I should be!" he
had said a dozen times during his stay; and each time, though her heart
echoed his wish, she cheered him with loving smiles, encouraged him with
hopeful words, begging of him to try and make the best of his Uncle
Gregory's home, and be as happy and contented as he could. Eddie often
wished that he had such a magnificent residence, for he made no secret
of his contempt for the shabby and somewhat dingy comfort of Uncle
Clair's house and its dreary surroundings. He thought artists should
have everything beautiful and graceful about them, and looked very much
astonished when his uncle said, in his sweet low voice, that beauty and
grace were certainly essential, but they should be in the artist
himself, and then he would see them reflected everywhere. Both Bertie
and Agnes endorsed that statement, for they loved the old house, and
were quite happy there. Eddie, still longing for something out of his
reach, instead of making the most of what was at his hand, grumbled and
shook his head; but Uncle Clair only smiled, and said, "You'll be wiser
when you are older, my boy. Knowledge comes with years."

Mrs. Gregory's presents caused Mrs. Clair to think that she was sorry
for her neglect of Bertie, and meant to be kinder to him in future;
besides, Uncle Gregory had said there might be other arrangements when
he returned, so that it was with a very hopeful heart that Bertie
entered the office punctually at nine o'clock on the 2nd of January, and
was taking his old corner to await the arrival of his uncle, when the
head clerk conducted him into the inner room, and pointed out a seat at
a desk near a window looking into a narrow court.

"Go through all those letters," the clerk said, pointing to a huge heap;
"select the circulars, open them, and place them on that stand; arrange
all the English and foreign letters on Mr. Gregory's table, and then
address those envelopes from that book on your desk."

"Yes, sir," Bertie replied cheerfully. It certainly was much pleasanter
in that warm room, with its clear blazing fire, soft carpet,
leather-covered chairs, and draughtless windows, than in the large, and
often chilly, outer office, but when Mr. Gregory entered with his
compressed lips and keen piercing glance all round, Bertie began to
think it would not be pleasant to