had made the year of his marriage—the year in which, at the suggestion of his late Colonel, Sir Ian Hereward, Mr. Forestier had taken Barnard on as a farmer in the home farm of Riding Wood. That same year Tom and Rose, his wife, had planted grape-vines and honeysuckle and clematis to climb over the arbour, and all had flourished as if they were glad to encourage the young couple. Now, the happiness and the creepers were seven years old together; the creepers gave a deep green shade to the arbour, and the happiness gave sunshine to the whole farm.
Poppet was a year younger than the arbour, and it was her favourite seat, as well as her mother's. The farmhouse standing on a hill, and the embowered pergola leading out from the front door, those sitting on the sheltered rustic seats could see wagons stop or pass at the gate. They could also see any one coming up the path; and for a view they could look across a dip up to deep masses of forest. Over the tops of trees rose the crown of a stone tower, built by the late Mr. Forestier's father as a viewpoint. From the balcony of the tower, reached by a winding stairway which ran outside, several counties could be seen, and an ocean of waving blue, with a silver glitter on the horizon that meant the sea: a famous view; but Mrs. Barnard much preferred her own homelike outlook from the arbour. In the early days of her marriage, any one was allowed to go up into the tower; but tramps
