Innocent : her fancy and his fact

terested in the doings of some particular man or woman than in the latest and most money-milking scheme of Government finance. In this way it happened that about a year after Innocent had, like a sma

what they were talking about, that such a book should have been written at all in these modern days. The "style" of it was exquisite and scholarly-quaint, expressive, and all-sufficing in its artistic simplicity,-thoughts true for all time were presented afresh with an admirable point and delicacy that made them seem new and singularly imperative,-and the story which, like a silken thread, held all the choice jewels of language together in even and brilliant order, was pure and idyllic,-warm with a penetrating romance, yet most sincerely human. When this extraordinary piece of work was published, it slipped from the press in quite a modest way without much preliminary announcement, and for two or three weeks after its appearance nobody knew anything about it. The publishers themselves were evidently in doubt as to its reception, and signified their caution by economy in the way of advertisement-it was not placarded in the newspaper columns as "A Book of the Century" or "A New L

ed nor recommended. One of our readers was immensely taken with it and advised us to accept it. The author gave no name, and merely requested all communications to be made through his secretary, a M

gton, with an amused twinkle in his eyes-"I suppose s

accurate in her secretarial work-I mean as regards business letters and attention to detail. But at her age she could not have had the scholarship to produce such a book. The author shows a close familiarity with sixteenth-cen

live?" asked Har

oked up the addr

want to write to the author she

o London more than a year ago had gone, as it seemed, out of his sight. Every little incident connected with her came freshly back to his mind-how she had spoken of the books she loved in "old French" and "Elizabethan Eng

d he

verley' and the 'Great Unknown'! I suppose you'll

odded emphatically-"We have a

Miss Ar

ough Miss

gton l

every day in the form of novels alone! Many of them are worse than the worst weak fiction by women. I tell you I've lived long enough to know that a woman's brain can beat a man's if she cares to test it, so long as she does not fall in love. When once that disaster happens it's all over with her! It's the one drawback to a woman's career; if she would only ke

isher wa

n royalties on the present book, and we have agreed to give two thousand in

Armitage?" put

ough Miss

will also express herself as perfectly satisfied after I

cerning her employer? It's hardly fair to her!-and of course it's only your way of joking, but your idea that she

too old a hand to get myself or anybody else into trouble! But I'

office of his big newspaper and wro

MISS A

ur name, but I kept a note of the address you gave through me to your taxi-driver, and through that address I have just by chance heard that you and

HARRI

or the answer, but none

imple and courteous "pu

R. HARR

I ask you not to call. I am living as a paying guest with an old lady whose health is not very strong and who does not like me t

sinc

ARMI

e note and put

ho is it says a woman cannot keep a secret? She can, and will, and does!-when it suits her to

the silent harpsichord. For she in her turn had discovered Miss Lavinia's secret,-how the dear lady's heart had been devoted to Pierce Armitage all her life, and how when she knew he had been drawn away from her and captivated by another woman her happiness had been struck down and withered like a flowering rose in a hard gale of wind. For this romance, and the disillusion she had suffered, Innocent loved her. The two had become fast friends, almost like devoted mother and daughter. Miss Leigh was, as she had stated in her "Morning Post" advertisement, well-connected, and she did much for the girl who had by chance brought a new and thrilling interest into her life-more than Innocent could possibly have done for herself. The history of the child,-as much as she was told of it,-who ha

that name might waken his memory and lead him to identify you. And I like it-it is

n Clifford, and how he had aired his

n's name, isn't

Leigh. "You can always call yourself 'Ena' for sho

h the name was finally bestowed and sanctified. Innocent herself was peacefully glad o

feel that you are one of those kind people in a fairy-tale, br

e had ever dreamed of, and her one idea was to keep up the mystery of its authorship as long as possible, but every day made this more difficult. And when John Harrington wrote to her, she felt that disclosure was imminent. She had always kept the visiting-card he had given her when they had travelled to London together, and she knew he belonged to the staff of a great and leading newspaper,-he was a man not likely to be baffled in any sort of enquiry he might choose to make. She thought about this as she sat in her quiet little room, working at the last few chapters of her second book which the publishers were eagerly waiting for. What a magical change had been wrought in her life since she left Briar Farm more than a year, aye,-nearly eighteen months ago! For one thing, all fears of financial difficulty were at an end. Her first book had brought her more money than she had ever had in her life, and the publisher's offer for her second outweighed her most ambitious desires. She was independent-she could earn sufficient, and more than sufficient to keep herself in positive luxury if she chose,-but for this she had no taste. Her little room

hey know it at Briar Farm!" she tho

at of Jocelyn. But Priscilla could not write, and contented herself with sending her "dear love and duty and do come back soon," through Robin, who answered for both in letters that were carefully cold and restrained. Now that he

criticise your actions. You are in a strange place and you have taken a strange name,-I cannot feel that you are Innocent,-the Inno

t have been said she was even "pretty"-but in her slight figure and intelligent face with its large blue-grey eyes half veiled under dreamy, drooping lids and long lashes, there was a magnetic charm which was both sweet and powerful. Moreover, she dressed well,-in quiet taste, with a careful avoidance of anything foolish or eccentric in fashion, and wherever she went she made her effect as a graceful young presence expressive of repose and harmony. She spoke delightfully,-in a delicious voice, attuned to the most melodious inflections, and her constant study of the finer literature of the pa

r hundred pounds he left me to 'buy pretties' with I could not have done anyt

id" falling like a snowflake from the roof to her caressing hand. All the old life of country sights and sounds passed before her like a fair mirage, giving place to dark days of sorrow, disillusion and loss,-the fleeting glimpse of her self-confessed "mother," Lady Maude Blythe,-and the knowledge she had so unexpected

, "I wonder if she will care for me less or more? But I must not tell her!-She says he was so good and

pted to break silence whenever Miss Leigh reverted to the story o

uld query-"Perhaps he'll go back to the place and en

ould smile and

any fairy dreams about me! I was just a deserted baby-not want

r youthful imagination-while Miss Leigh would sigh, and listen and wonder,-she, whose simple hope and faith had been centred in a lov

ing in question the studio was full of notable people,-not uncomfortably crowded, but sufficiently so as to compose a brilliant effect of colour and movement-beautiful women in wonderful attire fluttered to and fro like gaily-plumaged birds among the conventionally dark-clothed men who stood about in that aimless fashion they so often affect when disinclined to talk or to make themselves agreeable,-and there was a pleasantly subdued murmur of voices,-cultured voices, well-attuned, and incapable of breaking into the sheep-like snigger or asinine bray. Innocent, keeping close beside her "god-mother," watched the animated scene with happy interest, unconscious that many of those present watched her in turn with a good deal of scarcely restrained curiosity. For, somehow or other, rumour had whispered a flying word or two that it was possible she-even she-that young, childlike-looking creature-might be, and probably was the actual author of the clever book everybody was talking about, and though no one had the hardihood to ask her point-blank if the report was true, people glanced at her inquisitively and murmured their "asides" of suggestion or incredulity, fin

air and a youngish face?-rather good

nodded

he had b

f him! I think I know him,-that is, I know him as much as he will let anybody know him-he is a curious fellow, b

could not credit her own hearing. Amadis de Jocelyn!-the name of her old stone Kn

... "Are you sure? ... I mean ... is that his n

mily. The Jocelyns bore arms for the Duc d'Anjou in the reign of Queen Elizabeth-and this man is a sort of la

ht up at the blue eyes that a short while since had flashed an almost compelling glance into her own. A strange sense of familiarity and recognition moved her; something of the expression of her "D

an art

iled a

ing! ... I love p

the corners of his moustache-"You're not bound to love pictures at

by the mellow and deep

hand towards their host, who had moved away,-"because he is the fashion. If he were N

y his own talk, and she

in milder accents-"a sort of elf who has lost

wered, quickly

s she? Your aunt o

w, and laughed at his quick

my fairy godmother because she is always so good

the directi

retend to be young. That white hair of hers is very picturesque! So she

of hair and looked at he

he said-"There is something on your mind!

cheeks-she was confused to f

-"I was only wondering a little about your na

s went up i

I was the only wearer of such a very mediev

Queen. He fell in love with a very beautiful Court lady, who would not care for him at all,-so, as he was unhappy and broken-hearted, he went away from London and hid himself from everybody in the far country. There he bought an old manor-house and called it Briar Farm-and he married a farmer's daughter and settled in En

n,-he knew, or thought he knew, women well enough to hold them at no higher estimate than that of sex-attraction,-yet, with all the cynicism he had attained through long experience of the world and its ways, he recognised a charm in this fair l

steel-blue eyes on hers. "But what you tell me is most curious, for your 'Sieur Amadis'

m a swift,

could it? Oh, do please let

at her e

u put it-in the days of good Queen Bess, there lived a certain Hugo de Jocelin, a nobleman of France, famed for fierce deeds of arms, and for making himself generally disagreeable to his neighbours with whom he was for ever at cross-purposes. This contentious personage had two sons,-Jeffrey and Amadis,-also knights-at-arms, inheriting the somewhat excitable nature of their father; and the younger of these, Amadis, whose name I bear, was sel

ocent, her eyes shining l

he is marked as missing. But Jeffrey stayed at home in France,-and in due course inherited his father's grim old castle and lands. He married, and had a large family,-much larger than the six olive-b

ttle hands nervously-she was shy

murmured-"I can hardly

ondon a real Jocelyn!-o

r Am

ow what the exact connection is between me and your knight-it's too difficult for me to grasp! I suppose I'm a

d up at hi

said. "It is you who ou

r Fa

amused at her ea

me was Hugo-Hugo Jocelyn-and he was a farmer, and he left all he had to his nephew, the only child of his sister who died b

quite heartily, at the ser

should never do for a farmer-I'm a painter. I had better go down and see this famous old place, and the tomb of my ever so great-

ittle fleeting,

id. "That is not wise of you! You shou

med with he

h a kind of mirthful ardour. "You are sure? Well, all honour to him! And to YOU

sh suffused

then, fearful of betraying her secret of literary authorship, she hesi

eir cheery h

intelligence, mutual comprehension! Jocelyn, will you bri

n, doubtful as to whether this w

a-but her real name is Innoc

Jocelyn looked at her w

name is Innoce

him-"I'm afraid it's

with emphasis. "Innoce

you c

e, and they mov