"Send the telegram, father," she said.

"That's right, Olive," said John Castlemaine as he left the room.

"I can't realise it, I can't realise it," she said when he was gone. "It is all so strange, so terribly strange. Even now I can't feel that he is dead."

Later, however, her doubts were removed. Papers came containing the reports of the inquest, and then of the funeral. 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 brought news of Leicester's death also brought him the letter telling him that Vale Linden was still for sale, and as he watched the good effect that the place was having upon her, he rejoiced that he was a rich man, and thus able to obtain what would have been impossible to one who was poor. Not that John Castlemaine was blind to the sense of his responsibilities as a rich man. He used his money wisely and well, and while he did not appear before the public gaze as a philanthropist, few men worked harder to use his money in order to minister to the needs of humanity than he. He never advertised himself in the newspapers, nevertheless he regarded himself as a steward of the Almighty, and used his money accordingly. In buying Vale Linden, therefore, while he was anxious to please and help his daughter, he was not forgetful of his duties towards those who lived on the estate. Indeed, he felt sure that it would not only be in the new scenes, but in the new duties which would appear to Olive, that she would find that healing which she needed.

Nevertheless for the first few weeks he rejoiced to see her revelling in the beauties of the countryside. Often he accompanied her on her walks, and went with her into the farmhouses, where she chatted with the farmers' wives. He climbed with her to Linden Tor, from which they could see the wide expanse of the moors; he sat with her in wooded dells, and listened to the song of the birds, and the rill of the river.

"You are pleased with Vale Linden, Olive?" he said to her one day.

"You know, father," she replied.

"And you can be happy here?"

"I think so; I hope so--presently," she replied.

"But not yet?"

She was silent.

"We must get some friends down here, Olive. You must have girls of your own age to stay here. It must be a bit lonely for you only having me."

"No," she said, "I am not lonely, and I want no friends--yet. I want to be quiet for a little while--presently----"

"Presently you will want them?"

"No, I think not, father, and yet I don't know. Yes, perhaps I shall.

Besides, I think we ought. But it was not of that I was thinking."

"I daresay the people around here will be calling soon."

"No, I do not think so."

"Why?"

"Well, you see, the farmers will not dare to call; they will think it presumptuous. As for the county people, they will not think it inc.u.mbent upon them to do so."

"No?"

"Two things will stand in the way of their doing so. First, you are what they call a dissenter, and that would be sufficient to ostracise us; and, second, they would regard us as of the _nouveau riche_ order, because you have made your wealth by commerce."

John Castlemaine laughed.

"I do not imagine we shall be much poorer because of their lack of courtesy, Olive; still, I hope you are mistaken."

"Why, do you long for their society?"

"Oh, no; I was only hoping that broader and healthier ideas were coming into the community."

"I am afraid it is a vain hope," said Olive. "Why, just think. When the vicar called the other day he was simply stunned when you told him you were a Nonconformist, while when you told him that you intended building a chapel, I thought he was going to faint."

"Yes, he did seem overwhelmed," said John Castlemaine.

"Before you told him these things, he spoke of his wife and daughters calling, but not afterwards. Neither, as a matter of fact, have they called."

"Ah, but that is because of pure chagrin, I imagine. Besides, Mr.

Lestrange is noted for his bigotry, and is not therefore a fair sample."

"Of course there is an utterly different atmosphere here," said Olive.

"Not that it troubles me. The people whose intellectual outlook is so limited that the question of religious opinion influences social courtesies, are not very desirable companions. Still, we will have to bear it in mind in considering our future. As for--by the way, are you very rich, father?"

"Yes," said John Castlemaine quietly; "I suppose I am."

"That question will be inquired into, no doubt," said Olive, "and it may be that in time the minor county families will overlook our other failings on account of your being a wealthy man."

"Aren't you a bit cynical, Olive?"

"I was only wondering whether these people were worth considering, father. As you know, I don't care a little bit about what is called society, and I have been thinking about other plans for the future."

"What plans?"

"I have been trying to think what I shall do with my life."

"Yes?" said John Castlemaine eagerly.

"Yes. We cannot live here for ever idly; at least, I cannot. Besides, it would not be right. Even if we were to take part in the social life of the county, I could not content myself to be a mere b.u.t.terfly. Following the hounds, going to dances, paying calls, and the rest of it, is not a very interesting programme."