And Blythe, in a low quiet voice, thrilled in its every accent by the affection and sympathy of his honest spirit, told him the whole story of Innocent—­of her sweetness and prettiness—­of her grace and genius—­of the sudden and brilliant fame she had won as “Ena Armitage”—­of the brief and bitter knowledge she had been given of her mother—­of her strange chance in going straight to the house of Miss Leigh when she travelled alone and unguided from the country to London—­and lastly of his own admiration for her courage and independence, and his desire to adopt her as a daughter in order to leave her his fortune.

“But now you have turned up, Pierce, I resign my hopes in that direction!” he concluded, with a smile.  “You are her father!—­and you may well be proud of such a daughter!  And there is a duty staring you in the face—­a duty towards her which, when once performed, will release her from a good deal of pain and perplexity—­you know what it is?”

“Rather!” and Armitage rose and began pacing to and fro—­“To acknowledge and legalise her as my child!  I can do this now—­and I will!  I can declare she was born in wedlock, now Maude is dead—­ for no one will ever know.  The real identity of her mother”—­he paused and came up to Blythe, resting his hands on his shoulders—­ “the real identity of her mother is and shall ever be our secret!”

There was a pause.  Then Armitage’s mellow musical voice again broke the silence.

“I can never thank you, Blythe!” he said—­“You blessed old man as you are!  You seem to me like a god disguised in a tweed suit!  You have changed life for me altogether!  I must cease to be a wandering scamp on the face of the earth!—­I must try to be worthy of my fair and famous daughter!  How strange it seems!  Little Innocent!—­the poor baby I left to the mercies of a farm-yard training!—­for her I must become respectable!  I think I’ll even try to paint a great picture, so that she isn’t ashamed of her Dad!  What do you say?  Will you help me?”

He laughed,—­but there were great tears in his eyes.  They clasped hands silently.

Then Lord Blythe spoke in a light tone.

“I’ll wire to Miss Leigh this morning,” he said.  “I’ll ask her to come out here with Innocent as soon as possible.  I won’t break the news of you to them yet—­it would quite overpower Miss Leigh—­it might almost kill her—­”

“Why, how?” asked Armitage.

“With joy!” answered Blythe.  “Hers is a faithful soul!”

He waited a moment—­then went on: 

“I’ll prepare the way cautiously in a letter—­it would never do to blurt the whole thing out at once.  I’ll tell Innocent I have a very great and delightful surprise awaiting her—­”

“Oh, very great and delightful indeed!” echoed Armitage with a sad little laugh.  “The discovery of a tramp father with only a couple of shirts to his back and a handful of francs in his pocket!”