Bertie is her boy, too, as well as the Squire’s; and when love is the law of households there is no clashing of interests and no divided duty. The Squire walks into Uncle Fred’s study as freely as if it were his own, or puts his head into Mrs. Arbuthnot’s morning-room to nod “Good-morning,” or strays up into the nursery to play with the babies, just as if the house were his own; whilst Bertie’s mother is as much at home in the Manor House as in her own domain, and is Mrs. Pritchard’s general referee for any little matter about which she feels any doubt. If the Squire grew old in a single week of his life now nearly twenty years ago, it has certainly seemed to the good people of Arlingham that he has grown younger and more hale and hearty during the later portion of that time. “He’s been a new man since Master Bertie came,” is a common saying in the village; and certainly they ought to know, since he has been born and grown old amongst them. Certainly the grey-headed yet upright and vigorous man so often to be seen riding through the village with his son at his side, visiting those houses he once thought never to enter again, and playing in the garden with Mrs. Arbuthnot’s pretty curly-headed babies, is strangely different from the heavy-browed, bowed-down Squire of five years ago; and the many tenants and servants who have loved him and served him for so many years rejoice at the change in one who has always been to them a true friend as well as a just and watchful master. David has been promoted to the post of the “young Squire’s groom.” For Bertie is often called that now, and accepts a position he understands the Squire wishes him to occupy with the ready willingness and obedience that has characterized his conduct throughout. David may be his groom, but he is also his friend; for Bertie is tenacious of first impressions, and never forgets that he owes to David the first gleam of real happiness that seemed to gild his once lonely lot. Bertie has quite a circle of friends now, and he studies regularly with his pastor, who takes pupils from several of the houses round about; but he is still quite as fond of a quiet chat with David by the sea-shore, where they talk over old times together, and lay plans for the future. A good many boyish yet very earnest resolves are exchanged between those two at such times, and they both find it helpful to talk together of their faults and failures as well as of their aspirations and hopes. They do not kneel down at the turn of the tide to ask God’s special blessing, or to call themselves to His remembrance, for they know well now that He is always watching over them, and that to Him all times and seasons are alike; yet they often think of those days when they were struggling out of the darkness into the light, and I think nothing would ever make either of these two lads ashamed to say his prayers.