sconces, I often wish I could see a little fair head shining like
a cameo against the dark oak panelling--a vision of grace and hope
and comfort!--but as this cannot be, I read old books--even some
of those belonging to your favourite French Knight Amadis!--and
try to add to the little learning I gained at Oxford. I am sending
for your book!--when it comes I shall read every word of it with
an interest too deep to be expressed to you in my poor language.
'Cupid' is well--he flies to my hand, surprised, I think, to find
it of so rough a texture as compared with the little rose-velvet
palm to which he was accustomed. Will you ever come to Briar Farm
again? God bless you! ROBIN."

She shed some tears over this letter--then, moved by a sudden
impulse, sat down and answered it at once, giving a full account
of her meeting and acquaintance with another Amadis de Jocelyn--
"the real last descendant," she wrote, "of the real old family of
the very Amadis of Briar Farm!" She described his appearance and
manners,--descanted on his genius as a painter, and all
unconsciously poured out her ardent, enthusiastic soul on this
wonderful discovery of the Real in the Ideal. She said nothing of
her own work or success, save that she was glad to be able to earn
her living. And when Robin read the simple outflow of her thoughts
his heart grew cold within him. He, with the keen instinct of a
lover, guessed at once all that might happen,--saw the hidden fire
smouldering, and became conscious of an inexplicable dread, as
though a note of alarm had sounded mystically in his brain. What
would happen to Innocent, if she, with her romantic, old-world
fancies, should allow a possible traitor to intrude within the
crystal-pure sphere where her sweet soul dwelt unsullied and
serene? He told Priscilla the strange story--and she in her