"Or you'll tell me, maybe," said the old man. "Never fear—we'll have some good talks over it. Out on the moor some holiday, with nobody but the sheep and Watch to hear our fancies—that's the best time—isn't it?"
And the old shepherd whistled to the dog and disappeared round the corner of the house.
His mother met Gratian at the kitchen door.
"I was coming out to look for you," she said. "Put away your books now. You'd do no more good at them to-night."
"I wasn't sleepy, mother. I went to the door to wake myself up," he replied. But his tone was no longer fretful or cross.
"Feeling you needed waking up was something very like being sleepy," she answered smiling. "And all the lessons you have to learn are not to be found in your books, Gratian."
He did not at once understand, but he kept the words in his mind to think over.
"Good-night, mother," and he lifted his soft round face for her kiss.
"Good-night, my boy. Father has gone out to the stable to speak to one of the men. I'll say good-night to him for you. Pleasant dreams, and get up as early as you like if you want to work more."