and from the mills? A little brown house, with turf up to the
door-stone, and only a hundred dollars a year? Mayn't I tell you how
much I've saved up, and how I like being a real working man with a
salary, just as you liked being one of the Other Girls?"

"Yes; you may tell me that; that last," said Sylvie, softly. "You
may tell me anything you like about yourself."

"Then I must tell you that I never should have been good for
anything if it hadn't been for you."

"O, dear!" said Sylvie. "I don't see how we _can_ talk. It keeps
coming back again. I've had all those plants kept safe that you sent
me, Rodney," she began, briskly, upon a fresh tack.

"Those very ivies? Ah, the little three-windowed room!"

"Rodney! I didn't think you were so unprincipled!" said Sylvie,
getting up. "I wouldn't have come down here, if I had known there
was a promise! I shall certainly help you keep it. I shall go away."

She turned round, and met a gentleman coming down along the slope of
the smooth, broad rock.

"Mr. Sherrett!--Rodney!"

Rodney sprang to his feet.

"My boy! How are you?"

"Father! When--how--did you come?"

"I came to Tillington by the late train last night, and have just
driven over. I went to Arlesbury yesterday."

"But the steamer! She wasn't due till Sunday. You sailed the
_ninth_?"

"No. I exchanged passages with a friend who was detained in London.
I came by the Palmyra. But you don't let me speak to Sylvie."

He pronounced her name with a kind emphasis; he had turned and taken
her hand, after the first grasp of Rodney's.

"Father, I've broken my promise; but I don't think anybody could
have helped it. You couldn't have helped it yourself."

"I've seen Aunt Euphrasia. I've been here almost an hour. I have
thanked God that nothing is broken _but_ the promise, Rodney; and I
think the term of that was broken only because the intent had been
so faithfully kept. I'm satisfied with _one_ year. I believe all the
rest of your years will be safer and better for having this little
lady to promise to, and to help you keep your word."

And he bent down his splendid gray head, with the dark eyes looking
softly at her, and kissed Sylvie on the forehead.

Sylvie stood still a moment, with a very lovely, happy, shy look
upon her downcast face; then she lifted it up quickly, with a clear,
earnest expression.

"I hope you think, Mr. Sherrett,--I hope you feel sure,"--she said,
"that I wouldn't have been engage