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."