atified; and yet he sat
silent, drumming with his fingers on the window of the carriage, while
the others chatted and laughed, and seemed as if they could not keep
still for very enjoyment.

"Oh, auntie, how lovely it is!" Agnes cried, "Look how the sun shines on
the trees, and the brook looks like summer lightning. It is good to get
away from London, and see the country once more; and such a sky, Bertie!
you don't have anything like that in Mincing Lane!"

"No; but though our skies may be somewhat inky, Miss Agnes, they have a
silver or a golden lining," Bertie replied, with the air of a judge. "We
don't want sunshine in the City, because we have no time to look at it;
and besides, we have plenty of gas and electric light."

Eddie frowned, and was going to say something about his brother's want
of artistic taste, when Uncle Clair interrupted him by a hearty laugh.

"Really, Master Bertie, you are becoming quite a philosopher as well as
a capitalist and man of business. Now then, youngsters, gather up your
parcels; we shall be in Brighton in about five minutes, and then for a
glimpse of the glorious sea."

"Why, Uncle Harry, I've never seen it!" Bertie exclaimed, as if he were
very much surprised at not having given the matter a thought before.
"All the way down I never seemed to think we were going to the sea-side:
I was so glad to get away from London. Will you let us have a boat,
Uncle Harry?"

"That depends, Bertie; if the weather keeps fine we may go for a sail
some day."

"Bertie fancies we could pull about in a little punt on the ocean as we
did on the river at home," Eddie said, rather scornfully. "He has no
idea what the sea is like."

"Well, well, he will know better presently, for here we are," Uncle
Harry said gently; and in a few minutes more they were all in a shabby,
shaky, but roomy old carriage, driving along the Parade.

"Oh!" Agnes whispered, catching Aunt Amy's hand. "Oh, how beautiful! I
feel as if I can't breathe, auntie."

"It is jolly!" Bertie cried, in his hearty, downright way. "What a place
for a swim, Eddie!"

"The idea of thinking the sea only a place for swimming!" Eddie replied
contemptuously. "I----"

"You can't swim a bit: that's the reason you don't care about it,"
Bertie cried merrily. "But Eddie can pull better than I can, Uncle
Harry, so you will hear him say presently, 'What a lovely place for a
row!' and I do believe it's not a bit rougher than our little river."