She stooped forward, and he took a lingering pleasure in putting the chain on and watching the diamonds flash against her fair skin.  She was too much moved to express any worded thanks—­it was not the value or the beauty of the gift that touched her, but its association and the way it was given.  And then, after a little more desultory conversation, he rose to go.

“Remember!” he said, taking her tenderly by both hands—­“Whenever you want a home and a father, both are ready and waiting for you!” And he kissed her lightly on the forehead.  “You are famous and independent, but the world is not always kind to a clever woman even when she is visibly known to be earning her own living.  There are always spiteful tongues wagging in the secret corners and byways, ready to assert that her work is not her own and that some man is in the background, helping to keep her!”

He then shook hands warmly with Miss Leigh.

“If she ever comes to me”—­he went on—­“you are free to come with her—­and be assured of my utmost friendship and respect.  I shall feel I am in some way doing what I know my old friend Pierce Armitage would, in his best moments, approve, if I can be of the least service to you.  You will not forget?”

Miss Leigh was too overcome by the quiet sweetness and dignity of his manner to murmur more than a few scarcely audible words of gratitude in reply—­and when at last he took his leave, she relieved her heart by throwing her arms round Innocent and having what she called “a good cry.”

“And you Pierce’s child!” she half laughed, half sobbed—­“Oh, how could he leave you at that farm!—­poor little thing!—­and yet it might have been much worse—­”

“Indeed I should think so!” and Innocent soothed her fondly with the tenderest caresses—­“Very much worse!  Why, if I had not been left at Briar Farm, I should never have known Dad!—­and he was one of the best of men—­and I should never have learned how to think, and write my thoughts, from the teaching of the Sieur Amadis de Jocelin!”

There was a little thrill of triumph in her voice—­and Miss Leigh, wiping away her tears, looked at her timidly and curiously.

“How you dwell on the memory of that French knight!” she said.  “When are you going to have your portrait painted by the modern Amadis?”

Innocent smiled.

“Very soon!” she answered—­“We are to begin our sittings next week.  I am to wear a white frock—­and I told him about my dove Cupid, and how it used to fly from the gables of the house to my hand—­and he is going to paint the bird as well as me!”

She laughed with the joy of a child.

“Fancy!  Cupid will be there!”

“Cupid?” echoed Miss Leigh, wonderingly.

“Yes—­Cupid!—­usually known as the little god of love,—­but only a dove this time!—­so much more harmless than the god!”

Miss Leigh touched the diamond pendant at the girl’s neck.