For Priscilla was crying, and making no effort to hide her emotion.

“Bless ’is old ’art!” she sobbed—­“He thort of everybody, ’e did!  An’ what shall I ever want o’ Rose Cottage, as is the sweetest o’ little places, when I’ve got the kitchen o’ Briar Farm!—­an’ there I’ll ‘ope to do my work plain an’ true till I drops!—­so there!—­ an’ I’m much obliged to ye, Mr. Bayliss, an’ mebbe ye’ll tell me where to put the two ’underd pounds so as I don’t lose it, for I never ‘ad so much money in my life, an’ if any one gets to ’ear of it I’ll ’ave all the ‘alt an’ lame an’ blind round me in a jiffy.  An’ as for keepin’ money, I never could—­an’ p’raps it ’ud be best for Mr. Robin to look arter it—–­” Here she stopped, out of breath with talk and tears.

“It will be all right,” said Mr. Bayliss, soothingly, “quite all right, I assure you!  Mr. Clifford will no doubt see to any little business matter for you with great pleasure—­”

“Dear Priscilla!”—­and Innocent went to her side and put an arm round her neck—­“Don’t cry!—­you will be so happy, living always in this dear old place!—­and Robin will be so glad to have you with him.”

Priscilla took the little hand that caressed her, and kissed it.

“Ah, my lovey!” she half whispered—­“I should be ’appy enough if I thought you was a-goin’ to be ‘appy too!—­but you’re flyin’ in the face o’ fortune, lovey!—­that’s what you’re a-doin’!”

Innocent silenced her with a gesture, and stood beside her, patiently listening till Mr. Bayliss had concluded his business.

“I think, Mr. Clifford,” he then said, at last—­“there is no occasion to trouble you further.  Everything is in perfect order—­ you are the inheritor of Briar Farm and all its contents, with all its adjoining lands—­and the only condition attached to your inheritance is that you keep it maintained on the same working methods by which it has always been maintained.  You will find no difficulty in doing this—­and you have plenty of money to do it on.  There are a few minor details respecting farm stock, etc., which we can go over together at any time.  You are sole executor, of course—­and—­and—­er—­yes!—­I think that is all.”

“May I go now?” asked Innocent, lifting her serious blue-grey eyes to his face—­“Do you want me any more?”

Mr. Bayliss surveyed her curiously.

“No—­I—­er—­I think not,” he replied—­“Of course the pearls should be in your possession—­”

“I have given them away,” she said, quickly—­“to Robin.”

“But I have not accepted them,” he answered—­“I will keep them if you like—­for you.”

She gave a slight, scarcely perceptible movement of vexation, and then, taking up the sealed packet which was addressed to her personally, she left the room.

The lawyer looked after her in a little perplexity.

“I’m afraid she takes her loss rather badly,” he said—­“or—­ perhaps—­is she a little absent-minded?”