With a deprecatory shake of her head, and a faint smile, Innocent turned away, and passed through the curious tortuous little corridor that led to her own room. Once safely inside that quiet sanctum where the Sieur Amadis of long ago had "found peace," she set her candle down on the oak table and remained standing by it for some moments, lost in thought. The pale glimmer of the single light was scarcely sufficient to disperse the shadows around her, but the lattice window was open and admitted a shaft of moonlight which shed a pearly radiance on her little figure, clothed in its simple white gown. Had any artist seen her thus, alone and absorbed in sorrowful musing, he might have taken her as a model of Psyche after her god had flown. She was weary and anxious--life had suddenly assumed for her a tragic aspect. Old Jocelyn's manner had puzzled her--he was unlike himself, and she instinctively felt that he had some secret trouble on his mind. What could it be? she wondered. Not about herself and Robin--for were he as keen on "putting up the banns" as he had been in the morning he would not have allowed the matter to rest. He would have asked straight questions, and he would have expected plain answers,--and they would, in accordance with the secret understanding they had made with each other, have deceived him. Now there was no deception necessary--he seemed to have forgotten--at least for the present--his own dearest desire. With a sigh, half of pain, half of relief, she seated herself at the table, and opening its one deep drawer with a little key which she always wore round her neck, she began to turn over her beloved pile of manuscript, and this occupied her for several minutes. Presently she looked up, her eyes growing brilliant with thought, and a smile on her lips. "I really think it might do!" she said, aloud--"I should not be afraid to try! Who knows what might happen? I can but fail--or succeed. If I fail, I shall have had my lesson--if I succeed--" She leaned her head on her two hands, ruffling up her pretty hair into soft golden-brown rings. "If I succeed!--ah!--if I do! Then I'll pay back everything I owe to Dad and Briar Farm!--oh, no! I can never pay back my debt to Briar Farm!--that would be impossible! Why, the very fields and trees and flowers and birds have made me happy!--happier than I shall ever be after I have said good-bye to them all!--good-bye even to the Sieur Amadis!" Quick tears sprang to her eyes--and the tapering light of the candle looked blurred and dim.