"Shall we go away, Lucy?" he asked, almost eagerly. "Shall we shut up this house, and leave High Fold?" "I'm not tired of it if you are," she said lightly. She did not want to go away now that Joel was coming back. Yet she was afraid to meet him. Ever since she had written in answer to his letter she had lived in daily dread and daily hope of seeing him again. She wondered how he would greet her. CHAPTER XV MORNING AT THE SHEPHERDS' MEET Flames leaped up the chimney at Greystones, and filled the kitchen with a ruddy glow. The shutters had been taken down, but the night seemed still to hug the window-panes, and a black wind moaned in the sycamores. Barbara, cloaked and hooded, and Tom the hind, sat with porringers on their knees, eating their breakfast of hasty pudding and milk, while the sheep dogs eyed them intelligently, now and then thumping the flags with their tails--the stark cold dawn, that was yet night, and the shepherd staves propped against the wall, were signs which quickened their canine hearts. Twice a year the Shepherds' Meet was held in Girdlestone Pass, at the back of Thundergay, when the sheep that had strayed into other flocks, were brought to be claimed by their owners. A wether was missing from the Greystones' heaf, and three strange ewes had been found, which were now penned at Ketel's Parlour, where Barbara and the hind would pick them up on their way. They had to start while it was still dark in order to reach the place of the Meet at a reasonably early hour. Clatter went the clogs of the servant-lass, who tramped in and out with the sleep still in her eyes. "You'll mind what I've told you, Jess," said Barbara, giving the dogs her empty porringer to lick. The wench came to a standstill, then tossed her head confidently. "Oh, aye!" she replied. "I'll not forget. I'll tie the legs o' the white coo, for fear she kicks over the pail--she's a spiteful creature, yon coo! And I'll give thy great-granny her tea at seven o'clock." "The green tea, remember, Jess. And be sure the water is boiling." "Oh, aye." Jess swung her head from side to side, and winked, when Barbara's back was turned, at the hind. She knew what to expect from Mistress Lynn if the old woman was not pleased with her ministrations. "I'll speak soft and go quiet," she replied, tip-toeing into the dairy with no very light tread. Barbara drew back the curtains of the four-poster, and looked in; she knew that Mistress Lynn was awake. "I'm just off," she said, "Lucy will be up some time during the morning. Jess will look after you till then." The old woman raised herself upon her pillows. "Joel Hart comes back to-day," she remarked, her eyes brightening with pleasure. "He should arrive about now if he caught the coach." "I shouldn't wonder if he paid me a visit before long--eh?" "Very likely, great-granny." "Fetch me my best cap--the one that's rucked and trimmed with Valenciennes, and the white shawl that Peter--the wastrel--gave me."