The next morning, at half-past seven, Anna was in the garden-doorway of the Priory. The sun had just risen, the air was cold; roof and pavement were damp; rain had fallen, and more was to fall. A door opened higher up the street, and Willie Price came out, carrying a small bag. He turned to speak to some person within the house, and then stepped forward. As he passed Anna she sprang .  
'Oh!' she cried, 'I had just come up here to see if the workmen had locked up properly. We have some of our new furniture in the house, you know.' She was as red as the sun over Hillport.
 
He glanced at her. 'Have you heard?' he asked simply.
 
'About what?' she whispered.
 
'About my poor old father.'
 
'Yes. I was hoping—hoping you would never know.'
 
By a common impulse they went into the garden of the Priory, and he shut the door.
 
'Never know?' he repeated. 'Oh! they took care to tell me.'
 
A silence followed.
 
'Is that your luggage?' she inquired. He lifted up the handbag, and nodded.
 
'All of it?'
 
'Yes,' he said. 'I'm only an .'
 
'I've got a note here for you,' she said. 'I should have posted it to the steamer; but now you can take it yourself. I want you not to read it till you get to Melbourne.'
 
'Very well,' he said, and the envelope into his pocket. He was not thinking of the note at all. Presently he asked: 'Why didn't you tell me about my father? If I had to hear it, I'd sooner have heard it from you.'
 
'You must try to forget it,' she urged him. 'You are not your father.'
 
'I wish I had never been born,' he said. 'I wish I'd gone to prison.'
 
Now was the moment when, if ever, the mother's influence should be exerted.
 
'Be a man,' she said softly. 'I did the best I could for you. I shall always think............