ther laughed. "But seriously!
This room never appealed to me as does the one below. Anne couldn't
have been very comfortable up here. If she was tall, she could hardly
have stood up straight because of the slanting roof."

So laughingly, they went downstairs and toward the patch of bright
yellow sun-flowers in the farthest corner of the garden. The young
girl followed them. "Shall I point out the different flowers?" she
timidly inquired.

They were duly shown the "rosemary for remembrance," the "pansies for
thoughts," and a great many others of Shakespeare's loved flowers. The
view of the cottage from the group of tall sun-flowers is most
charming. There is surely nothing in the world more picturesque than a
thatched-roof.

Arrived once again at the Red Horse, they all packed up their
belongings, and Mrs. Pitt went over to the station with a boy, who
wheeled the luggage. When the suit-cases were duly labeled
"Leamington," and the station-master had received his tip of a
shilling, to insure his remembering them, Mrs. Pitt returned to the
hotel, where she found five bicycles lined up. At sight of her, the
rest came running out. "This is great!" cried John, already astride
one of the bicycles, and impatient for the start.

"Yes," answered Mrs. Pitt, much pleased by the enthusiasm. "I thought
this would be rather better than driving out to Charlecote and back,
and then taking the train to Leamington. I know the roads, and am
delighted at riding once more! I had my divided-skirt with me, you
see, in case of this very emergency. You girls will manage somehow;
your skirts are fairly short." This was to Barbara and Betty, and then
they were off.

The ride of about four miles to Charlecote seemed all too short, for,
as Betty expressed it, "the roads are so smooth and level that I can't
stop. My wheel just goes of itself!" They first came in sight of
Charlecote Park, where there are still great numbers of deer. As the
party passed, the graceful creatures rose from the tall grass, making
an extremely pretty picture. They tried in vain to coax them to the
fence.

"Deer in Shakespeare's time must have been tamer, or he couldn't have
stolen one," observed John knowingly.

"Isn't the 'Tumble-down Stile' near here, Mother?" Barbara questioned.

"Yes, it's just beyond this turn in the road. There it is now! So long
as we are believing all we see to-day, I feel quite justified in
telling you that when the youthful Shakespeare