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Updated: June 28, 2025
Then he sat down in the snow while Tom counted the sheep. "They're aw here," said the shepherd. "A better job than I thowt we'd mak! Weel, let's gan on." Kit was tired, and bruised by his fall, but he went forward behind the dogs. His troubles were over, for a broad smooth path led along the hill-foot to Mireside.
The morning was dark, and although the gale had dropped, a raw, cold wind blew up the valley past Mireside farm, where three or four farmers' traps and some rusty bicycles stood beneath the projecting roof of a barn. The bleating of sheep rose from a boggy pasture by the beck, and lights twinkled as men with lanterns moved about in the gloom.
The lambs, now grown large and fat, gave less trouble, and when they sometimes stopped irresolutely while the ewes tried to break away Kit understood their hesitation. Two instincts were at work: it was natural to follow their dams, but Mireside was their native heath and they knew they were going to be taken home. Now they had gone some distance, Kit had to make a choice.
Kit made a sign of agreement and Grace asked: "But do you think Hayes would break the lease and turn him out?" "It's possible," Kit answered cautiously. Grace gave him a sharp glance. "What do you really think, Mr. Askew? I want to know." "Then, my notion is Hayes would like to get Mireside for Jim Richardson." "Richardson is his nephew." "Just so," said Kit, with some dryness.
A few minutes afterwards he scrambled over a pile of fallen stones, shouted to Tom, and began to run, for he understood what had happened. The broken wall marked the boundary of the Mireside heaf and the sheep were now on familiar ground. It was his business to drive them to the farm, but they were trying to turn off to look for shelter among the crags.
Kit was, of course, a farmer's son, but he was plucky and generous; besides, she approved his steady look, well-balanced, muscular figure, and clean brown skin. Then she blushed and began to wonder what she would say about her visit to Mireside when she went home. In the meantime, Kit ate his breakfast, and soon afterwards Peter Askew came in and began to talk to Railton.
"T' lass has a good heart, but talking to Osborn will be o' nea use. Hayes is real master and he wants Mireside for Jim Richardson." Kit made a sign of agreement. "The fellow's getting dangerous and must be stopped. I suspect he's backing Bell and now he means to use his nephew; it's not altogether for Richardson's sake he wants to break your lease.
Now it looked as if her household treasures must be sold, and to leave Mireside would mean the tearing up of roots that had struck deep. Besides, while she would suffer it would hurt her husband worse. When Kit came in she gave him a keen glance. "Weel, what had Miss Osborn to say?" "She didn't say much; I think she means to talk to Osborn." Railton looked up gloomily.
"I would like; I've lived at Mireside sin' I was born. There's another thing: it's none too good a time for a sale o' farming stock, and when I've paid Osborn, I'll need some money to mak' anither start. Then may-happen a dry spring wold put me straight." "It ought to; you're not much behind," Peter agreed.
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