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Robbins still stared, astonishment and delight vying with each other in his face. “That ’ud be a different story!” he ejaculated.

“An’, you see, you could pick your own bwoy easy then—he’d be your bwoy; you could choose en for yourself, an’ send en away if he didn’t behave hisself. Would that do ye?” she asked with modest triumph.

“Do me!—ah, that it would! I did never expect so much. But master won’t hear on it, sure!”

“He will, though—I’ll see to that. ’Tis but your due, shepherd. I d’ ’low you deserve some reward; we bain’t onreasonable!”

She turned quickly, and went into the house, leaving Robbins radiant but still half incredulous.

He was forced to believe in his own good fortune, however, when at pay time Farmer Joyce announced the intended promotion of Shepherd Robbins, who, in view of his long service and failing health, was now to receive an increase of wages amounting to four shillings a week.

The shepherd bore himself with becoming modesty under the congratulations of his comrades. One or two of them were disposed to be envious, but for the most part they received the intelligence in an ungrudging spirit.