h an
uncle, who remained at home, assisting his father in the management of
the property, they comprised the household, and the three apparently
conspired to do their best to spoil Master Bert during that summer. Bert
took very kindly to the spoiling, too, and under the circumstances it
was a wonder he did not return to Halifax quite demoralised, as regards
domestic discipline. But of this further.

They were a merry party sitting down to tea that evening, and Bert,
having appeased his hunger and found his tongue, amused them all very
much by his account of what he had seen from the coach top. The narrow
escape they had had at Brown's Gully was of course much discussed.
Squire Stewart had nothing but censure for the driver.

"The man had no business to go out with anything likely to break. Better
for you to have waited a day than run any such risks. I shall certainly
bring the matter to the attention of Mr. Lindsay," he said.

Nobody ventured to say anything to the contrary; but Bert, who was
sitting by his mother, turned an anxious face up to hers, and whispered:
"Grandpapa won't hurt Mr. Davis, will he? He was so good to me, and he
asked God to save us; and He did."

"It will be all right, dear," his mother whispered back. "Don't worry
yourself about it." And Bert, reassured, said nothing more.

Bedtime for him soon came, and then, to his great delight, he found that
instead of being banished to a room somewhere away upstairs, he was to
be put in a curious bed, that filled a corner of the parlour in which
the family sat. Bert had never seen anything like that bed before. It
looked just like a closet, but when you opened the closet door, behold,
there was a bed, and a very comfortable one, too. Just behind the
parlour, with a door between, was the best bedroom, which his mother
would have, and there Bert undressed, returning in his night-gown to say
goodnight to all before tumbling into bed.

With the closet door wide open, he could see everything that went on in
the room; and it was so delightful to lie there watching the family
reading or talking, until at last, sleep came to claim him.

"Now, if you're a good boy, and don't attempt to talk after your head's
on the pillow, I'll leave the door open, so you can see us all," said
Aunt Sarah, as she tucked Bert snugly in; and he had sense enough to be
a good boy, so that not a sound came from him ere his brown eyes closed
for the night.

Many a night after that