And he passed 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 passively, 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 glasses, and turned over his documents 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?”

“Yes, sir—­that’s me,” said Priscilla, briefly.

“Mr. Jocelyn thought very highly of you, Miss Friday,” he said—­ “he mentions you in the following paragraph of his will—­’I give and bequeath to my faithful housekeeper and good friend, Priscilla Priday, the sum of Two 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 that cottage on my estate known as Rose Cottage, free of all charges, and be allowed to live there and be suitably and comfortably maintained till the end of her days.  And,—­er—­pray don’t distress yourself, Miss Priday!”