on Sundays; but
Eddie was never invited to Gore House, and Uncle Clair was never
mentioned without contempt. But to Bertie, the hours spent in the dingy
old house in Fitzroy Square were the pleasantest of his life. He was too
happy when he got there to notice that Eddie looked gloomy sometimes,
but little Agnes was always sweet and happy, and Aunt Amy's welcome was
worth anything.

"How I do wish I could come and live here!" Bertie cried one wet
afternoon, when they were all gathered round the fire in Mrs. Clair's
old-fashioned parlour. "I should not mind being in the office a bit if I
could see you all in the evenings; but it is dull at home!"

"It's dull everywhere at times, dear," Aunt Amy said gently, remembering
how very gloomy Eddie often looked. "You must try and make the best of
it."

"I do, auntie," Bertie replied; "and I suppose I won't have to live with
Uncle Gregory always."

"Gore House is pleasanter than Fitzroy Square, I think," Eddie said, a
little crossly.

"And Fitzroy Square is ever so much pleasanter than Mincing Lane,"
Bertie replied. "Why, if you were in our office, Eddie, I don't know
what would become of you! You would have to sit on a high stool all day,
copying things into big books, or else copying things out of them. Then
you have to add up columns of figures till your eyes ache, and if you
are even one wrong, Mr. Wilson seems to know just by instinct. I
wonder," Bertie added suddenly, "how many columns I shall have to add
up, and how many ledgers fill with entries, before I begin to grow
rich?"

"I wonder how many pictures I'll have to paint before I begin to grow
famous?" Eddie replied; and then, as Aunt Amy left the room, he jumped
up impatiently. "I'll never be an artist, Bert, if Uncle Clair keeps me
drawing lines and triangles and cubes. Any one can do them; I want to
begin to paint!"

"Then why don't you do just as Uncle Harry says; he knows best!" Bertie
replied gravely. "I always do exactly as Uncle Gregory says, no matter
what it is; and now it's time for me to go back. Oh, I forgot to tell
you something: our cousins, Dick and Harry, are coming home in a few
weeks; I'll bring them to see you. It won't be so bad when they come,
but it is dull at home these long evenings."

"It does me good to see Bertie: he's always so happy and cheerful," Aunt
Amy said, after she had kissed him, and watched him a little way down
the street. "I wish, Eddie dear, you would try to be content