"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."