girl, halting distressfully
to call the truant, chanced to turn her face so that the strong morning
light fell full upon it. Why, it was the violinist! Or was he deceived
by some chance resemblance? Sydney did not think so, but it behoved him
instantly to go and see.

Indeed, before he reached the stream, his help seemed to be needed. The
boy, shouting and dancing, had missed his footing and fallen headlong in
the stream, which, fortunately, was very shallow and not very swift.
Sydney quickened his pace to a run, and the girl did the same; but
before either of them reached its bank the boy had scrambled out again,
and was sitting on the further side with a sobered countenance and in a
very drenched condition.

"Oh, Jack!" said the girl reproachfully, "how _could_ you?"

"I want some mushrooms. I said I would get them," Jack answered,
sturdily.

"You must come back at once. But--how are you to get over?" she said,
contemplating the slippery stones with some dismay. For Jack's fall had
displaced more than one of them, and there was now a great gap between
the stones in the deepest part of the little stream.

"Can I be of any assistance?" said Sydney, availing himself of his
opportunity to come forward.

She turned and looked at him inquiringly, the color deepening a little
in her pale face.

"I am staying at Culverley," he said, in an explanatory tone. "I had the
pleasure of hearing you play last night."

"You are Mr. Campion, I think?" she said. "Yes, I shall be very glad of
your help. I need not introduce myself, I see. Jack has been very
naughty: he ran away from his nurse this morning, and I said that I
would bring him back. And now he has fallen into the brook."

"We must get him back," said Sydney, rather amused at her matter-of-fact
tone. "I will go over for him."

"No, I am afraid you must not do that," she answered. "There is a plank
a little further down the stream; we will go there."

But Sydney was across the water by this time. He lifted the child
lightly in his arms and strode back across the stones, scarcely wetting
himself at all. Then he set the boy down at her side.

"There!" he said, "that is better than going down to the plank. Now,
young man, you must run home again as fast as you can, or you will catch
cold."

"I am very much obliged to you," said the young lady, looking at him, as
he thought, rather earnestly, but without a smile. "Jack, you know, is
Sir John Pynsent's eldest son."