al. Radford Leicester was
dead, and thus gone out of her life for ever.

"I am glad I've been able to buy that place," said John Castlemaine to
himself as he watched her face. "She'll be able to forget him amidst new
scenes; besides, she's eager to work among the poor in the village."

A few days later they started for their new home.

CHAPTER XVIII

OLIVE'S LIFE IN DEVONSHIRE

By the middle of May John Castlemaine and his daughter had settled at
Vale Linden, an old family mansion situated amidst beautiful and
romantic scenery. Even Devonshire, the garden of England, had no more
attractive place to offer. From the front of the house Olive could see a
wide panorama of beautiful country. Immediately beyond the lawns
stretched the park, dotted with giant trees, such as can be seen only in
the southern and western counties of England. Beyond the park was a fine
undulating country of wooded dells and rich pasture land. Here and there
she could see the farmsteads nestling amongst the trees, while still
beyond was the vast stretch of the moors, fast becoming a great blaze of
golden and purple glory. Everywhere the birds sang gaily, while the air
was filled with the perfume of flowers.

Spring comes early in Devonshire. Ofttimes when the air is cold and
biting in the more northern counties it is balmy and caressing there.
Not that it lacks the crisp vitalising elements which are supposed to
belong to the north. There is no air in England more invigorating than
that which sweeps across Dartmoor, and yet you feel that all nature is
generous and kind there. During the first few weeks of Olive's
residence in her new home, it was a constant revelation of new wonders.
Day by day she wandered along the lanes, and through the fields, almost
unconsciously revelling in the unfolding life around her. Primroses
simply bedecked the hedges, while the whole countryside was ablaze with
wild-flowers. She heard the ploughboys singing in the fields, and
watched the lambs sporting in the meadows; she listened to the River
Linden singing its way into the sea, and breathed the air of healthful
restfulness which pervaded the whole countryside.

John Castlemaine had acted wisely in buying Vale Linden. Knowing his
daughter's beauty-loving nature, he had been right in believing that if
anything could divert Olive's mind from her sorrow, it would be to place
her in surroundings like these. It seemed almost providential that the
post which