d feeling glad that there was so much
capacity for pure enjoyment in the world. He dragged Eddie and Agnes
with him hither and thither, till by sheer force of energy and example
he forced them to share his happiness, and brought the roses to their
cheeks too; he would have dragged Aunt Amy and Uncle Clair about in the
same way, only they drew the line at taking off shoes and paddling in
the water, and begged to be allowed to sit still on the beach and watch
them. However, one day, very much to his astonishment, he met his Aunt
Gregory and his cousins walking on the Parade, and Bertie nothing
doubted but they would be glad to join his many expeditions in search of
fun; but the boys had many other acquaintances in Brighton, and felt
half ashamed to acknowledge a relative who was only a junior clerk, and
refused very distinctly to go down on the beach, and be friendly with
Eddie and Agnes. Indeed, as soon as Mrs. Gregory understood that Mr. and
Mrs. Clair were also by the sea-side, she became very chilling to
Bertie, and asked when he was going back to his office.

"Next Monday, aunt; but the others will stay for another fortnight,"
Bertie answered brightly, without the least shade of discontent on his
face.

"And why must you return before the others, my lad?" a gentleman said,
advancing a step, and looking at Bertie steadily. "If I don't mistake, I
have met you before somewhere. Where was it?"

[Illustration: "'I REMEMBER YOU QUITE WELL,' HE SAID."]

"You have seen him at our house, perhaps, Mr. Murray," Dick Gregory said
carelessly; he had been walking with the gentleman, and discussing a
trip in Mr. Murray's yacht, and did not want to be interrupted; indeed,
he was far from being pleased at meeting Bertie. "You know, he's in
papa's office in the City," he added, seeing the gentleman still looked
puzzled.

"No, cousin; I think Mr. Murray saw me at Riversdale," Bertie said, a
little shyly, for a pair of keen dark eyes were fixed on his face. "He
used to come and see papa often; but I think he would remember Eddie
better than me: he saw him oftener."

"Oh dear me! yes, of course; why, I remember you quite well," he said.
"You are Herbert, the dreadful little boy who snow-balled me one day,
and Eddie drew caricatures of me. Dear me! Mrs. Gregory, how strange
you never mentioned the Rivers' being here. This boy's father is one of
my oldest and dearest friends. I shall be delighted to meet him."

For a moment there w