“I did not know that mother would choose that train,” said Barbara. “As that is the case, Dick, I will go to Exeter by train, for I can just fit things in, and return in time to join mother at Haversham station. We will then drive home together.” “Very well, dear, as you like.” “I shall buy quite a cartload of things,” said Barbara, laughing as she spoke. “I want this Christmas tree to be the best the children have ever seen. You may as well select a fir tree for the purpose when you take your rounds this morning, Dick.” “All right,” he answered. Barbara having finished her breakfast went to the window. “How lovely things are looking!” she said. “But it is cold. I should not be surprised if we had a fall of snow.” Pelham joined his wife at the window. A fairer scene could scarcely be found in the length and breadth of England. The place was covered with hoar frost, the rolling lawns were skirted by great forest trees, there was a lake in the distance, and a range of low-lying hills stood out against the horizon. The high road wound like a white ribbon through the heart of the landscape. There was a peace and a great silence over the scene. A robin was hopping about on a bough near by looking for his breakfast. Barbara opened the window and threw out some crumbs. “It is all lovely, lovely,” she said. “Don’t forget about the tree this morning, Dick. Let it be a right royal one for the sake of dear little Piers. I am going to give the Christmas tree in his memory, and I mean to talk about him to the children.” Pelham said nothing, and a thoughtful look passed over his face. For a moment his eyes became full of gloom, but Barbara was too happy in her own reflections to notice this. “Good-by, dear,” she said. “I must hurry off. I have to give some directions about mother’s room, and I shall try to catch the 11.10 train.” She ran out of the room singing a light song under her breath. Dick Pelham stood for a moment where she had left him. Then, whistling to his dogs, he went out. For the rest of the morning many duties kept him busy, for he was an ideal landlord, and looked into the smallest details himself, but he found time to see Barbara off on her expedition to Exeter. She was to drive to the station, about four miles away. “God bless her!” said Pelham as he watched the ponies, with their ringing bells, trot down the avenue and then disappear from view. His dogs still following him, he sauntered down the avenue. He was to meet his steward within an hour, but there was still plenty of time. He had gone about a hundred yards when an old man was seen hobbling up the drive. “Well, Crayshaw, and what do you want?” said Dick, pausing in his walk. The old man gazed up at him with bleared and red eyes. “You’ve got over it, and I’m glad,” he remarked. “Got over it! Got over what? What do you mean, my good fellow?” “It’s nigh upon the blessed Christmas, the birth of Christ, and I want to unburden my soul. I listened when I ought not.”