fulfilled.

The sun shone powerfully as they left the country station and went down
a road set with bare hedges on either side. A week ago there had been
frost. Now there was a grateful odour from the millions and millions of
little spear-heads of grass that were pushing above the ground. On the
banks by the side of the road there were primroses and violets, while
there was yet a drift of last week's snow in the sheltered copses.

They found an inn by the side of the road. To the back of it lay a belt
of woods. In front was a great stretch of cornfield and pasturage. In
the distance a church-spire and yet other woods.

There was no village in sight. The village was, as a matter of fact,
lying about its green and velvety common just a little way down the
road. The place was full of the singing of the birds, and of another
sound as sweet, the rushing of waters. A little river ran down from the
higher country and passed through the inn-garden, turning a water-wheel
as it went. The picture on the old sign was of a water-wheel. The inn
was called the Water-Wheel.

"What a name to think upon!" said Mary, with a sigh, "in a torrid London
August! it sounds full of refreshment."

"Its patrons would no doubt prefer the Beer-Keg," said Mrs. Morres, and
was reproached for being cynical on such a day.

While they waited for a meal they explored the delightful inn-garden. It
was not Sir Robin's first visit, and he was able to point out to them
the lions of the place. There was the landlord's aviary of canary-birds,
so hardy that they lived in the open air all the year round. There were
the ferrets in a cage. Not far off, in a proximity which must have
profoundly interested the ferrets, there was an enclosure of white
rabbits. There was a wild duck which had been picked up injured in the
leg one cold winter, and had become tame and followed them about now
from place to place. There were a peacock and a peahen, a sty full of
tiny, squeaking black piglets, hives of bees, all manner of pleasant
country things. A lordly St. Bernard, with deep eyes of affection,
followed Sir Robin as a well-remembered friend.

"Out in the woods," Sir Robin said, "there is a pond which later will be
covered with water-lilies. The nightingales will have begun now. The
wood is a grove of them. The landlord owned up handsomely when I came
here first that 'they dratted things kept one awake at night.' I was
only sorry they did not keep me. But after the