ever, amen!'

There was no irreverence in his tone--only triumphant assurance; and
his uncle was silenced.

'And so I'm just expecking,' went on the small boy; 'and he may come
to-morrow while you're here.'

'That would be first-rate. Now, where shall I find you when I want a
game of hide and seek? Where's your nursery?'

Bobby pointed to the window, which was plainly in sight from the
orchard.

'But how do I get to it?'

'Through the green door.'

'Of course I do. Now I come to think of it, that is our old nursery.
We were shut away from the rest of the house by the baize door. Here's
your nurse looking for you. Good-bye for the present. I'm going out
with your grandmother.'

He left Bobby looking after him with wistful eyes.

'He's just my sort,' he announced to his nurse in his old-fashioned
way. 'Me and Nobbles and him will like each other very much.'

'Who are you talking about?' asked Nurse. And Bobby answered, 'Master
Mortimer.'

It was two or three days before he saw his uncle again, for he went up
to London on business. Then he entranced the child by taking him down
to the river to fish. That was a red-letter day to Bobby; his tongue
never stopped until he was told he would frighten the fish away, and
then he sat on a fence and gazed at his uncle with adoring eyes. As he
trotted home very tired, but very happy, insisting upon carrying two
good-sized trout, he said, 'I shall do this every day with father, and
we'll cook our brekfus ourselves.'

'May he never disappoint you!'

Mr. Mortimer murmured the words, and happily Bobby did not hear them.
That evening he and Nobbles were too excited to sleep. In rehearsing
his day to himself, Bobby began to think of many such blissful times in
the future; he pictured them to Nobbles, his father being the
centre-piece. And then he stopped talking and began to listen for the
knock that was to come. There was great silence in the nursery. Nurse
had gone downstairs to her supper, leaving the night-light as usual
upon the washing-stand in the corner of the room. Suddenly Bobby
sprang up, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson, his little heart
galloping wildly, There was no possible mistake this time. A sharp
rat-tat on his door.

'Come in!'

How often he had rehearsed his answer to the knock! Why was it that
his voice was so husky? Why were his knees trembling so? He was out
of his bed now, standing in the middle of the room, a pathetic lit