But the plan which Mr. Hollys without further debate determined to carry out did not prove so happy a one as he deemed it.
The express for Plymouth had started an hour earlier, and the train by which he was obliged to travel was a slow one, stopping at every station. Mr. Hollys thought he had never made so tedious a journey, and his patience was severely tried, for, as it was market-day at almost every town on the line, the train was continually delayed, and when it reached Plymouth, half an hour after the appointed time, he found to his vexation that the last train by which he could proceed to Egloshayle had already gone.
Mr. Hollys thought that his plan had been a foolish one, when he learned that there was not another train that would answer his purpose till noon on the following day. He went to the nearest hotel, and finding comfortable quarters there, tried to solace himself with the anticipation of how amusing it would be to see Beryl's astonishment when he suddenly and unexpectedly presented himself at home in the middle of Sunday afternoon.
Mr. Hollys had ceased to feel any annoyance at the tiresome delay by the time he reached Egloshayle the next day.
He was in excellent spirits as he alighted from the train at the little country station. There was no conveyance to take him home, but he did not wish for one. He felt that he should enjoy the long walk on this bright summer day. He chose the longest path, which skirted the cliffs, that he might enjoy the strong sea air to be breathed on those heights. He thought, too, that by going this way he might perhaps surprise the children in some nook on the beach. But as he climbed the steep hill from the station he saw that the tide was high, and the waves breaking turbulently at the foot of the cliff. Not a strip of beach was visible.
"Ah, well, I shall find them in the garden," he said to himself, as he hurried on, eager to embrace his little Beryl.
Mr. Hollys had some news for Beryl, and he felt rather doubtful how she would receive it. He had found a governess for her at last, a highly-educated and accomplished young lady, whom his friend Mrs. Everard could highly recommend. He believed he was doing the right thing for his child in engaging this governess for her, yet in his foolish fondness, he felt sorry to think how Beryl's freedom would be curtailed and her actions restrained.
"Naughty little puss, she will not like it, I fear," he said to himself with a smile. "After running wild like a young gipsy for so long, it will be hard to settle down to regular lessons, and submit to rules and regulations. But it is high time some one took her in hand. I ought to have seen to it before; that letter was disgraceful."
Soon Mr. Hollys was within sight of his home. He looked about for the children, but they were not visible. The house appeared quiet and sleepy, as it stood with every blind closely drawn, in the glare of the afternoon sun.
He walked round the garden, hoping to find Beryl there; but the place seemed deserted. Then he entered the house by the glass-door leading into the garden. The Sunday peace of the house was perfect. Not a sound broke the stillness as he stood in the empty hall, and listened for the children's voices.