old friends, and if a hundred pounds would be some help--"

"It would be a big help," said Railton, and Kit turned to the shepherd
when Mrs. Railton awkwardly began to thank him.

"About the broken dyke, Tom? What d'you think brought it down?"

"I canna tell. Dyke's good and there was nea wind."

They were all silent for a few moments, and then Kit said, "Well,
Richardson is a cunning hound." He paused and picked up his hat before
he turned to Railton. "I've a job at Ashness that must be finished
to-night. There's not much time, but if it's possible Tom and I will
find the sheep."

In the meantime, Grace walked home thinking hard. Kit was Railton's
friend, but he had used some tact, until she forced him to tell her the
truth. This, however, was not important, because she had got a jar. It
looked as if Osborn had consented to a cruel plot; a landlord ought to
help his tenants and not take advantage of their need. She tried not to
blame him; he had a bad agent, who used a dangerous influence. She must
try to protect him from the fellow and, in a way, from his own
carelessness.

After all, it was, for the most part, carelessness, because he did not
know Hayes as she knew him. Still, she had not undertaken an easy thing
and she braced herself as she went up the steps of the new terrace. Grace
hated the terrace. It was the price they, the Osborns, had taken for a
shabby deed, and for which poor people and hard-worked women paid. Grace
knew about the extra dust that peat fires caused and how often the bread