Phil’s eyes lighted with satisfaction. “Do you think the Squire would mind?” “No, I don’t think he would a bit. He’s very kind always.” “Why, so he is. I think I’ll come. I should like some breakfast awfully.” Mrs. Pritchard knew “Master Phil” well by sight; and, though surprised at his sudden appearance, received him hospitably enough, and added a dish of fried bacon to Bertie’s simple meal, which was greatly enjoyed by both boys. Whilst they sat at breakfast, the Squire happened to look in, as he sometimes did when Bertie was at his meals. Phil of course had to explain his presence there, which he did with so much spirit and boyish fun, that, although the Squire drew his thick eyebrows together and shook his head, he could not help giving vent to a gruff laugh; and when the part played by the monkey was told, Bertie could not restrain his delight, but broke into such a laugh as had not been heard from him since his arrival. “And so Bertie persuaded you to give up your plan and speak out, did he?” quoth the Squire, when Phil had got to the end of his tale. “Yes, sir,” answered Phil. “I’d never thought it could be wrong before, or cowardly, or anything like that; I only meant it for fun; but I guess the little chap is right.” The Squire’s hand rested for a moment upon Bertie’s shoulder. “What made you think of all that, my boy?” he asked. Bertie got very red. “I didn’t want him to be afraid,” he said; “I liked him, and I wanted him to tell the truth and not mind being punished.” The Squire was not a man of many words, and he soon left the boys to themselves, but Bertie felt by a sort of instinct that he had pleased the old man by the part he had taken, and that made him feel glad and happy. He enjoyed his hour’s talk with Phil, though he hardly spoke a word, for the schoolboy was a tremendous talker, and delighted to find so attentive a listener. To be sure, Bertie was only quite a little boy, but then he had proved that he had some sense and some pluck in him, and Phil was always ready to believe the best and not the worst of everybody he came across. At nine o’clock he jumped up and said he must go, as his parents would be having breakfast soon. He promised to come back later and tell Bertie how he had fared, and he went off whistling gaily. Phil possessed an amount of quiet assurance that stood him in good stead on occasions such as the present. If he felt any trepidation or anxiety as to his reception, he did not show it in the least, as he strolled into the dining-room with his hands in his pockets, and he confronted his astonished parents with his broadest and sunniest smile. Lady Arbuthnot uttered a little shriek and fell back in her chair speechless; Sir Walter looked quickly up from his paper and drew his brows together darkly.