Innocent Her Fancy and His Fact

ge than the funeral of "the last of the Jocelyns,"-impressive

wherever he went. On the coffin itself was laid a simple wreath of the "Glory" roses gathered from the porch and walls of Briar Farm, and offered, as pencilled faintly on a little scroll-"With a life's love and sorrow from Innocent." A long train of mourners, including labourers, farm-lads, shepherds, cowherds, stable-men and villagers generally, followed the corpse to the grave,-Robin Clifford, as chief mourner and next-of-kin to the dead man, walking behind the waggon with head down-bent and a face on which intense grief had stamped such an impress as to make it look far older than his years warranted. Gr

ly believe it, but I have already been told how wicked it was of me to be dressed in white when the clergyman called to see me the morning after Dad's death-well, I had no other colour to wear till Priscilla got me this sad black gown-it made me shudder to put it on-it is like the darkne

ing looks and suggestive nods. And when Robin, with tears thick in his eyes, flung the first handfuls of earth rattling down on the coffin lid, his heart ached to see the lovely fragrant blossoms crushed under the heavy scattered mould,

he Reverend Mr. Medwin, assisted by his young curate, had performed the ceremony, and before retiring to the vestry to ta

," he said. "I suppose"-this tentatively

looking him steadily in the face, "Bri

him a little a

is an historical possession. Something would be lacking in the neighbourhood if it were not kept up to its old tradition and-er-r

an with kind eyes and intelligent feat

the fine old place as his uncle did-but is there not Miss Jocelyn?-the d

blood rushing to his brows. Yet he resolved that the tru

pted her when she was an infant-and she was as dear to him as if she had been his

ed his eyes and

murmured. "Then-ther

ured. But he ans

no Miss

anding too long by the open grave in his surplice-he, therefore, retired, his curate following him,-whereupon the sexton

th and leaned upon it,-"it's a black day, forbye the summer sun! I never thort I'd a' thr

sadly-"I know the place can never be the

tch, though there's Jocelyn blood in ye by ye'r mother's side. Howsomever it's not the same as the male line, do what we will an' say what we like

acquiescence was more

a little deeper int

' been the right thing," he went on-"He might a' had a fine s

t Wixton mention Innocent? Did he know she was

el as was left with 'im the night o' the great storm nigh eighteen ye

laimed Clifford, ea

celyn was a-walkin' with the baby in the fields I said to 'im, secret-like-'That ain't your child!' an' he sez-'Ow do you know it ain't?' An' I sez-' Because I saw it come with a stranger'-an' he lau

asked, half

ive me that I should be chitterin' 'ere about marryin' over a buryin'!-but that's the trouble-an' it's the trouble all the world over, wimmin wantin' a man, an' mad for their lives when they thinks another woman's arter 'im! Eh, eh! We should all get al

mind. He could no longer deny the fact that her position was difficult-almost untenable. Nameless, and seemingly deserted by her kindred, if any such kindred still existe

his breath, as he walked home slowly from th

night of his life,-and what a futile bargain it was, after all!-for was not Jenny of the Mill-Dykes fully informed of the reason why the bargain was made?-and she, the vilest-tongued woman in the whole neighbourhood, would take delight in spreading the story far and wide. Five Hundred Pounds paid down as "hush-money"!-so she woul

e ye mighty partikler, an' there ain't no one to say nothin' to 'em, for the dear little Innocent, she's come back from the cold churchyard like a little image o' marble, an' she's gone an' shut 'erself up in 'er own room, sayin' 'Ask Mister Robin

her with straine

d, huskily-"Death i

into the world at all for no special reason 'cept to take us out of it again just as folks 'ave learned to know us a bit and find us useful. Howsomever, there's n

familiar to the village, but fairly well known to him, such as corn and cattle dealers from the neighbouring town who had for many years done business with Jocelyn i

said one, a miller,-"We don't like changes after all these years. But wh

e worked on the same methods which my uncle practised and approved-and there will be no chan

no farm like Briar Farm in the whole country-that's my opinion!-it gives the finest soil and the soundest crops to be got anywhere-

anly way creating a good impression among them, and making more friends than he himself was aware of. Presently Mr. Bayliss,

e's no hurry-no hurry!-better wait till the guests have gone, as what I have to say concerns only yourself-and-er-yes-er, the young lady before mentioned. And also a-a"-here he pulled ou

ekeeper," said Robin-"

thing it is to have a devoted friend, Mr. Clifford! Your uncle was a careful man!-ver

ng the good things Priscilla had provided for the "honour of the farm"-and then, on a sudden impulse he slipped out of the hall and upstairs to Innocent's room, where h

nstairs in a few minutes-Mr. Bayliss wishes you

le gesture of p

hear it," she said

r with anxiety

orning; you look so pale and weak-let

s me to hear all those voices in the great hall!-men eating and drinking there, as if he w

dered vi

at all if death must separate them for ever. It seems only a cruelty and wicke

mewhat bitterly-"yet, you have never kno

ghed,

now. What love I had in my heart is all buried-with Dad and the roses. I

areful and considerate of the feelings of others-yet now!-well!-are you not so much absorbed in your own grief as to be forgetful of mine? For mine is a double grief-a

s with a direct, ha

ink me

Innocen

o you, and to Dad's last wish. You would expect me to spoi

hing about love!" he int

in the world you desire to see the beloved one well and prosperous and full of gladness. You cannot love me or you would not wish me to do a thing that would make me miserable. If I loved you,

over her forehead

ly just buried," she continued. "You say Mr. Bayliss wa

something in her manner that struck him as new and foreign to her usual sweet and equable nature,-a grave composure,

d how it had been disposed. But Mr. Bayliss, the lawyer, was a cautious man, and never gave himself away at any point. To all suggestive hints and speculative theories he maintained a dignified reserve-and it was not until the last of the guests had departed that he made his way to the vacant "best p

aylis

ss-er-Miss Innocent," he said, with s

e answered, gently-"if

ll she sat down,-then

y sister, the late Elizabeth Jocelyn, widow of John Clifford, wholesale trader in French wines, and formerly resident in the City of London, on condition that the said Robin Clifford shall keep and maintain the farm and house as they have always been kept and maintained. He shall not sell any part of the land for building purposes, nor shall he dispose of any of the furnitur

culated Robin, amazed-"Surely

y take it for granted, Mr. Clifford, that his money was made through the c

rse!-but-Twenty

e into it at a time of life when you will be able to make go

o that of Innocent-the young man's expression was absorbed and ear

-"I shall use the money entirely for th

allow the tradition of heritage

" he replied-"I am not

ely

being dead, it is open to you to take the name of Jocelyn by law,

ttled his glasses more firmly on his

hild, known as 'Innocent'-and he gives to her all that is contained in the small oak chest in the best

e lifted out of a recess a small quaintly made

t it with a certain

ieve the late Mr. Jocelyn alwa

and went to t

The watch has stopped. I do not intend that it shall ever go again

ing the watch and chain in his hand, detached therefrom a small key. With this he opened the

he lifted from the bottom of the casket a flat

given by the founder of the house, Amadis de Jocelin, to his wife on their wedding-day. It has been worn by eve

took it passively, and opened it-a beautiful row of pearls, not very large, but wonderfully perfect, lay within-clasped by a small, curiou

when you marry," she s

ughed-a cough

ut Mr. Jocelyn was particularly a

d at him,

good and generous-but if they are mine, I give them to Mr

iss coug

in this casket, with the exception o

nt her

ive into her own possession the Jocelyn pearls, valued by experts at L2,500, and that she shall wear the same on her marriage-morning. The sealed packet, p

e looked up, an

that the sealed packet you have

her han

e under

es, and turned over h

re we need trouble you with-oh ye

bolt upright on a chair in the corner of the room,

ooked at her

ss Priscil

s me," said Pri

Hundred Pounds for her own personal use, and I desire that she shall remain at Briar Farm for the rest of her life. And that, if she shall find it necessary to resign her duties in the farm house, she shall possess th

ng, and making no effo

n an' true till I drops!-so there!-an' I'm much obliged to ye, Mr. Bayliss, an' mebbe ye'll tell me where to put the two 'underd pounds so as I don't lose it, for I never 'ad so much money in my life, an' if any one gets to '

te all right, I assure you! Mr. Clifford will no doubt see

nd her neck-"Don't cry!-you will be so happy, living always in thi

ttle hand that caress

if I thought you was a-goin' to be 'appy too!-but you're flyi

stood beside her, patiently listening ti

ands-and the only condition attached to your inheritance is that you keep it maintained on the same working methods by which it has always been maintained. You will find no difficulty in doing this-and you

ting her serious blue-grey eyes to

surveyed h

plied-"Of course the pearls

away," she said,

em," he answered-"I will ke

vexation, and then, taking up the sealed packet whic

after her in a l

ather badly," he said-"or-perhap

fford smi

the death of my uncle deeply-she adored him-and t

ng his head, sagaciously-"Yes-I am aware that such was his dearest wis

ly-"and I cannot compel her to marry me aga

hat he was obliged to take of

eed most unexpected and distressing! There is-there is nothi

his shoulders

tter to her," he said-"Let

ked from one

s ago-we must give 'er time to think a bit an' settle. 'Tis an awful blow to 'er to lose 'er Dad, as she allus called Farmer Jocelyn-she's like a little bird fallen out o' the nest with no strength to use 'er wings an' not knowin' where to go. Let 'er settle a bit!-that's what I sez-an' yo

elf to smile, as he took h

speak-er-most sensibly! I'm sure I hope, for the young

oes not!" ech

bodingly-"A girl alone in the world-with no relatives!-ah, dear, dear me! A sad look-out!