Innocent : her fancy and his fact Part 26

She pa.s.sed her hand over her forehead with a weary gesture.

"It is wrong to talk of ourselves at all when Dad is only just buried,"

she continued. "You say Mr. Bayliss wants to see me--very well!--in a few minutes I will come."

She stepped back inside her little room and shut the door. Clifford walked away, resentful and despairing. There was something in her manner that struck him as new and foreign to her usual sweet and equable nature,--a grave composure, a kind of intellectual hardness that he had never before seen in her. And he wondered what such a change might portend.

Downstairs, the funeral party had broken up--many of the mourners had gone, and others were going. Some lingered to the last possible moment that their intimacy or friendship with the deceased would allow, curious to hear something of the will--what the amount of the net cash was that had been left, and 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 parlour," and sat there with his chair pulled well up to the table and one or two legal-looking doc.u.ments in front of him. Robin Clifford joined him there, taking a seat opposite to him--and both men waited in more or less silence till the door opened softly to admit Innocent, who came in with Priscilla.

Mr. Bayliss rose.

"I'm sorry to have to disturb you, Miss--er--Miss Innocent," he said, with some awkwardness--"on this sad occasion--"

"It is no trouble," she answered, gently--"if I can be of any use--"

Mr. Bayliss waited till she sat down,--then again seated himself.

"Well, there is really no occasion to go over legal formalities," he said, opening one of the doc.u.ments before him--"Your uncle, Mr.

Clifford, was a business man, and made his will in a business-like way.

Briefly, I may tell you that Briar Farm, its lands, buildings, and all its contents are left to you--who are identified thus--'to my nephew, Robin Clifford, only son of my only 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 furniture, pewter, plate, china, gla.s.s, or other effects belonging to Briar Farm House,--but shall carefully preserve the same and hand them down to his lawful heirs in succession on the same terms as heretofore'--etc., etc.,--yes!--well!--that is the gist of the business, and we need not go over the details. With the farm and lands aforesaid he leaves the sum of Twenty Thousand Pounds--"

"Twenty Thousand Pounds!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Robin, amazed--"Surely my uncle was never so rich--!"

"He was a saving man and a careful one," said Mr. Bayliss, calmly,--"You may take it for granted, Mr. Clifford, that his money was made through the course of his long life, in a thoroughly honest and straightforward manner!"

"Oh--that, of course!--but--Twenty Thousand Pounds!"

"It is a nice little fortune," said Mr. Bayliss--"and you come into it at a time of life when you will be able to make good use of it.

Especially if you should be inclined to marry--"

His eyes twinkled meaningly as they glanced from Clifford's face to that of Innocent--the young man's expression was absorbed and earnest, but the girl looked lost and far away in a dream of her own.

"I shall not marry," said Robin, slowly--"I shall use the money entirely for the good of the farm and the work-people--"

"Then, if you do not marry, you allow the tradition of heritage to lapse?" suggested Mr. Bayliss.

"It has lapsed already," he replied--"I am not a real descendant of the Jocelyns--"

"By the mother's side you are," said Mr. Bayliss--"and your mother being dead, it is open to you to take the name of Jocelyn by law, and continue the lineage. It would be entirely fair and reasonable."

Robin made no answer. Mr. Bayliss settled his gla.s.ses more firmly on his nose, and went on with his doc.u.ments.

"Mr. Jocelyn speaks in his Last Will and Testament of the 'great love'

he entertained for his adopted child, known as 'Innocent'--and he gives to her all that is contained in the small oak chest in the best parlour--this is the best parlour, I presume?"--looking round--"Can you point out the oak chest mentioned?"

Innocent rose, and moved to a corner, where she lifted out of a recess a small quaintly made oaken casket, bra.s.s-bound, with a heavy lock.

Mr. Bayliss looked at it with a certain amount of curiosity.

"The key?" he suggested--"I believe the late Mr. Jocelyn always wore it on his watch-chain."

Robin got up and went to the mantelpiece.

"Here is my uncle's watch and chain," he said, in a hushed voice--"The watch has stopped. I do not intend that it shall ever go again--I shall keep it put by with the precious treasures of the house."

Mr. Bayliss made no remark on this utterance, which to him was one of mere sentiment--and taking the watch and chain in his hand, detached therefrom a small key. With this he opened the oak casket--and looked carefully inside. Taking out a sealed packet, he handed it to Innocent.

"This is for you," he said--"and this also"--here he lifted from the bottom of the casket a flat jewel-case of antique leather embossed in gold.

"This," he continued, "Mr. Jocelyn explained to me, is a necklet of pearls--traditionally believed to have been given by the founder of the house, Amadis de Jocelin, to his wife on their wedding-day. It has been worn by every bride of the house since. I hope--yes--I very much hope--it will be worn by the young lady who now inherits it."

And he pa.s.sed the jewel-case over the table to Innocent, who sat silent, with the sealed packet she had just received lying before her.

She took it pa.s.sively, and opened it--a beautiful row of pearls, not very large, but wonderfully perfect, lay within--clasped by a small, curiously designed diamond snap. She looked at them with half-wondering, half-indifferent eyes--then closed the case and gave it to Robin Clifford.

"They are for your wife when you marry," she said--"Please keep them."

Mr. Bayliss coughed--a cough of remonstrance.

"Pardon me, my dear young lady, but Mr. Jocelyn was particularly anxious the pearls should be yours--"

She looked at him, gravely.

"Yes--I am sure he was," she said--"He was always good--too good and generous--but if they are mine, I give them to Mr. Clifford. There is nothing more to be said about them."

Mr. Bayliss coughed again.

"Well--that is all that is contained in this casket, with the exception of a paper unsealed--shall I read it?"

She bent her head.

"The paper is written in Mr. Jocelyn's own hand, and is as follows,"

continued the lawyer: "I desire that my adopted child, known as 'Innocent,' shall receive 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, placed in this casket with the pearls afore-said, contains a letter for her own personal and private perusal, and other matter which concerns herself alone."

Mr. Bayliss here looked up, and addressed her.

"From these words it is evident that the sealed packet you have there is an affair of confidence."

She laid her hand upon it.

"I quite understand!"

He adjusted his gla.s.ses, and turned over his doc.u.ments once more.

"Then I think there is nothing more we need trouble you with--oh yes!--one thing--Miss--er--Miss Priday--?"

Priscilla, who during the whole conversation had sat bolt upright on a chair in the corner of the room, neither moving nor speaking, here rose and curtsied.

The lawyer looked at her attentively.

"Priday-Miss Priscilla Priday?"