--well, I'm afraid he's a difficult youngster to
manage, but he's all right at the bottom. I have no doubt he will
stand the test too; and the sooner we get poor Bertie out of his
difficulties the better it will be for him."

CHAPTER XV.--BAD NEWS FROM BRIGHTON.

When Mr. Murray left the dining-room at Gore House, Mr. Gregory
followed him as far as the hall door, then he returned for a moment,
and looked at Bertie angrily. It seemed as if he were going to say
something of importance, but suddenly checked himself with a hasty
stamp of his foot; then he said, more quietly, "Get to bed as soon as
possible, and be down in good time in the morning, and see that you
don't fall asleep out of doors again," and left the dining-room.

Bertie was not very long after him, and though he felt much better
for his supper, he was still so stiff and chilled that the warm bath
was a real luxury. His head was scarcely on the pillow before he was
sound asleep, but he was troubled and restless, and awoke in the
morning feeling dull and unrefreshed, and with the uncomfortable
sense of something having happened that he vainly tried to recall.
However, he got up and was downstairs before his uncle.

Mr. Gregory spoke to him coldly, without looking up from his pile of
letters, and Bertie ate his breakfast in silence: that is, he drank
his coffee, but food seemed to hurt his throat strangely, and in
spite of the brilliant sunshine, he shivered nervously once or twice.
Just as breakfast was finished there came a telegram for Mr. Gregory,
which, when he had read it, he handed over to Bertie.

The message was from Aunt Amy, saying that Uncle Clair was ill, and
wished to see Bertie, if his Uncle Gregory would permit him to go.
The paper fell from his trembling fingers as he looked at the
unconcerned features of his uncle, and he gasped, rather than asked,
"May I go, sir?"

"Certainly, if you wish it," was the cold reply, "though I fail to
see what possible good you can do. You can come into the City with
me, and go down by the noon express; telegraph to that effect when
you reach the office."

"Thank you, Uncle Gregory; and if you please, will you let me have
some money?" Bertie faltered, blushing, and looking very much
confused. "I'm afraid it would take me too long to get my own out of
the savings' bank."

Mr. Gregory took a sovereign from his pocket. "That will be
sufficient for your expenses. Watts shall get your ticket;" and Mr.
Gre