"No, I won't." And slamming down the desk lid, he tried to run out of
the room, and ran right into the arms of his grandfather, who, unseen
and unsuspected, had witnessed the whole transaction from the door.

Overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and terror at having been detected by
the one person of all others whom he dreaded most, Bert sank down on the
floor, sobbing as though his heart would break. But, strange to say, the
stern old man had no harsh words for him now. On the contrary, he bent
down and lifting the little fellow gently to his feet said, in tones of
deepest tenderness:

"No tears, laddie; no tears. You've fought a grand fight, and glad am I
that I was there to see you win it. God grant you like success to the
end of your days. I'm proud of you, Bert boy; I'm proud of you."

Scarce able to believe his ears, Bert looked up through his tears into
his grandfather's face. But there was no mistaking the expression of
that rugged old countenance. It fairly beamed with love and pride, and
throwing himself into his arms, Bert for the first time realised that
his grandfather loved him.

He never forgot that scene. Many a time after it came back to him, and
helped him to decide for the right. And many a time, too, when
grandfather seemed unduly stern, did the remembrance of his face that
morning in the parlour drive away the hard feelings that had begun to
form against him.

CHAPTER IX.

LOST AND FOUND.

The summer days passed very quickly and happily for Bert at Maplebank,
especially after the surprising revelation of the love and tenderness
that underlay his grandfather's stern exterior. No one did more for his
comfort or happiness than his grandmother, and he loved her accordingly
with the whole strength of his young heart. She was so slight and frail,
and walked with such slow, gentle steps, that the thought of being her
protector and helper often came into his mind and caused him to put on a
more erect, important bearing as he walked beside her in the garden, or
through the orchard where the apples were already beginning to give
promise of the coming ripeness.

Mrs. Stewart manifested her love for her grandson in one way that made a
great impression upon Bert. She would take him over to the dairy, in its
cool place beneath the trees, and, selecting the cooler with the
thickest cream upon it, would skim off a teaspoonful into a large spoon
that was already half filled with new oatmeal, and then