condition as centuries of care can make it. The old housekeeper opened
the door in her very best black silk, and two or three more faithful
retainers stood in the background.

Roy spoke to them all with boyish frankness and grace, and then eagerly
demanded if tea might be on the terrace. Miss Bertram agreed and while
she went indoors for a chat with the housekeeper, the boys tore round
the place dragging Rob after them. The stables of course were visited,
and an old groom who had known the boys' fathers when boys, welcomed
them with great warmth.

"Ye must grow quicker, Master Fitz Roy. We want to see you here among
us. I'm looking to see all these stalls occupied by hunters and sich
like again. 'Tis mournful work to live year in and year out with only
two bosses for company!"

"Tell us about the old times, Ben, do!"

Ben sat down and spread his hands out on his knees reflectively.

"All the young gentlemen were born riders," he said, slowly; "I mind how
Master Randolph would tear up the avenue after a long ride. 'There, Ben'
he'd say to me, chucking me the rein, and jumpin' off as light as a
feather, 'we've worked our spirits h'off--Ruby and me!' When the old
squire were alive, he'd have all three young gentlemen up, and then he'd
mount them and bring them down to Ruddocks stream, and see them jump it.
He used to say, 'No grandson of mine is worth calling a Bertram if he
can't take that leap before he is twelve year old!' They all did it
before they was ten, and he used to stand chuckling and rubbing his
hands as he saw them do it."