he
habit of filling up his spare time. Then Uncle Gregory was becoming
daily more exacting and particular, and Bertie gathered from the letters
he wrote that some of the many speculations of the great City merchant
were not going on entirely to his satisfaction. Every evening he
remained later in the library, and Bertie had more letters to write and
circulars to address, and sometimes his head ached sadly, and his eyes
were dull and heavy in the morning. But there was one unfailing source
of satisfaction--his weekly visit to the post-office savings' bank.
Bertie would not have missed that for the world: nine shillings a week,
and sometimes even ten--for nothing could tempt him to spend a penny,
except on his luncheons and in writing to them at Fitzroy Square--soon
mounted up to five pounds, and then Mr. Gregory remarked one day that if
Bertie had saved any money he would invest it for him in a company that
would pay five times as much interest as the post-office. So the money
was handed over to Uncle Gregory, and Bertie received a very large and
formal paper, which he never read, but still was proud of, and in his
next visit handed it triumphantly to Mr. Clair. He read it carefully,
and then shook his head. "This company promises too much, Bertie," he
said; "better have left your money where it was."

"As if Uncle Gregory doesn't know best!" Bertie laughed. "Why, he has
hundreds of shares himself."

CHAPTER VIII.--AN UNEXPECTED PLEASURE.

"You may go and spend a few days with your brother," Mr. Gregory said to
Bertie one Saturday at the end of July. "I am going away for a week, and
so I can spare you; but mind you are back on the Monday after next, and
in good time."

"Yes, sir; thank you, uncle," Bertie replied, with a bright smile.

[Illustration: "HE SAW SOMETHING UNUSUAL WAS ABOUT TO TAKE PLACE."]

"You may go now, if you wish. I do not require anything further;" and
Bertie fairly ran out of the office, jumped into an omnibus, and hurried
straight to Fitzroy Square, instead of going home to Kensington. The
moment the hall door opened he saw something unusual was about to take
place: there were trunks and packages and muffle straps in the hall, and
there, amidst them, stood Uncle Clair, looking quite calm, while Aunt
Amy, Agnes, and Eddie flew hither and thither in every direction. There
was a four-wheeler at the door too, so that evidently the family were
going away. For a moment Bertie felt inclined to cry.