She had such a pitiful, fragile and fair appearance, standing half in
shadow and half in the mystic radiance of the moon, that Robin
Clifford's heart ached with love and longing for her.
"Sin!" he echoed--"Sin and you have never met each other! You are like
your name, innocent of all evil! Oh, Innocent! If you could only care
for me as I care for you!"
She gave a shivering sigh.
"Do you--can you care?--NOW?" she asked.
"Of course! What is there in all this story that can change my love for
you? That you are not my cousin?--that my uncle is not your own father?
What does that matter to me? You are someone else's child, and if we
never know who that someone is, why should we vex ourselves about it?
You are you!--you are Innocent!--the sweetest, dearest little girl that
ever lived, and I adore you! What difference does it make that you are
not Uncle Hugo's daughter?"
"It makes a great difference to me," she answered, sadly--"I do not
belong any more to the Sieur Amadis de Jocelin!"
Robin stared, amazed--then smiled.
"Why, Innocent!" he exclaimed--"Surely you're not worrying your mind
over that old knight, dead and gone more than three hundred years ago!
Dear little goose! How on earth does he come into this trouble of
yours?"
"He comes in everywhere!" she replied, clasping and unclasping her
hands nervously as she spoke. "You don't know, Robin!--you would never
understand! But I have loved the Sieur Amadis ever since I can
remember;--I have talked to him and studied with him!--I have read his
old books, and all the poems he wrote--and he seemed to be my friend! I
thought I was born of his kindred--and I was proud of it--and I felt it
would be my duty to live at Briar Farm always because he would wish his
line quite unbroken--and I think--perhaps--yes, I think I might have
married you and been a good wife to you just for his sake!--and now it
is all spoiled!--because though you will be the master of Briar Farm,
you will not be the lineal descendant of the Sieur Amadis! No,--it is
finished!--all finished with your Uncle Hugo!--and the doctors say he
can only live a year!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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