"On his way to Australia."
"Poor lamb! poor stricken lamb!"—the tears would not keep back, and something like a sob came from Stephen as he rose to his feet to go.
"Stay, stay," said Mrs. Colston, putting a detaining hand upon him, "the shepherd would be sure to give some particulars as to the lamb's whereabouts and what help it needed. Tell me how it is she is in difficulties about money, and what you would advise her to do."
"You can guess how it is she is in difficulties; the worst reason you can think of will be the right one. What I want her to do is to accept my help, but that she refuses to do. If no other way opens up she will accept her sister's help, but she is rather afraid that would anger her father."
"Yes, he has rather close ways. How much does she require?"
"Three hundred pounds with care would set her upon her feet."
In another five minutes the two had parted company outside in the road—Stephen to go home to the lonely farmhouse; Mrs. Colston to go and do shepherd-work.