Mrs. Cameron was silent again for a space; but when as the time went on the girl seemed to abandon herself more and more to her grief, she rose to her feet and drew the sobbing figure up also.
'There is a hard task before you, dear one,' she said, 'but I know you will do it.'
Hermie gazed at her helplessly.
'His poor old father does not know yet, for Bart tells me his man Barnes is still drinking in Wilgandra. I want you to go up to Coolooli and break it to him.'
'Me?' gasped Hermie. 'Me?'
'Yes, you, my dear. You cared for his son; it will establish a bond between you, and make it a little easier for him.'
'Oh, I couldn't!' cried the girl, shrinking back, actual alarm on her face. 'Oh, it is cruel of you to even ask me, mother! Why should I do such a thing? Surely it is hard enough already for me!'
'Because you are a woman, my dear, and must always think of yourself last,' the mother said quietly. 'How soon can you be ready to start?'
One glance the girl gave at her mother's face that was so quietly expectant that she would do the right thing. Her head lifted a little, and her mouth tried to compose itself.
'I have only my skirt to put on,' she said; 'I can do it while Bart saddles Tramby for me.'