"
Slowly she gathered up her things and took her way home, while the
evening of blue and pearl fell around her, while the glow died on the
fells, and Venus came out in a sky that was still too full of light to
let any lesser stars appear.
She crossed the stepping stones, and in a river field on the farther side
she came across an old shepherd, carrying a wounded ewe across his
shoulders, and with his dog beside him. At sight of him she paused in
astonishment. He was an old friend of hers, but he belonged to a
village--the village of Mainstairs--some three miles away in the lowland
toward Pengarth. She had first come across him when sketching among some
distant fells where he had been a shepherd for more than forty years.
The old man's russet face, sharp-lined and strong, lit up as he saw her
approaching.
"Why I thowt I med coom across yer!" he said smiling. And he explained
that he had been paying a visit to a married daughter under Naddle Fell,
and had volunteered to carry an injured sheep down to a valley farm,
whence it had strayed on his way home.
They stopped to talk while he rested a few minutes, under his burden,
propped against a rock. Lydia asked him after a sick grand-daughter. Her
question showed knowledge--no perfunctory kindness.
He shook his head sadly, and her grave, soft look, as she fell silent a
little, beside him, said more than words.
"Anything been done to your cottage?" she asked him presently.
"Noa--nowt.
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