stace

btain the restoration of those jewels. Mr. Camperdown was a gentleman of about sixty, who had been lawyer to Sir Florian's father, and whose father had been lawyer to Sir Florian's grandfather. His connexion with the property and with the family was of a nature to allow him to take almost any liberty with the Eustaces. When therefore John Eustace, i

th! as trustee how are you to reconcile yourself to such a robbery? They represent ￡5

e given them away. At any ra

e a man, and hadn't yet learned to drop the name by which he had called the boy,-"we mustn't allow it. What do you think of her applying to me for an income to support her child,-a baby not yet two years old?" Mr. Camperdown had been very adverse to all the circumstances of Sir Florian's marriage, and had subjected himself to Sir Florian's displeasure for expressing his opinion. He had tried to explain that as the lady brought no money into the family she was not entitled to such a jointure as Sir Florian was determined to lavish upon her. But Sir Florian had been obstinate,-both in regard to the settlement and

been forced upon her. She had been almost given to understand that unless she submitted to it, she would not be able to draw her income from the Portray property. Messrs. Mowbray and Mopus had advised her to submit. "My husband gave me a necklace, and they want me to give it back," she had said to Mr. Mopus. "Do nothing of the kind," Mr. Mopus had replied. "If you find it necessary, refer Mr. Camperdown to us. We will answer him." The interview had taken place, during which Mr. Camperdown took the trouble to explain very plainly and more than once that the income from the Portray property belonged to Lady Eustace for her life only. It would after her death be rejoined, of necessity, to the r

klace of diamonds, which was an heirloom of the family, and which was undeniably the property of the heir, was believed to be in her custody. As such property was peculiarly subject to risks, would she have the kindness to make arrangements for handing over the necklace to the custody of the Messrs. Garne

uare, Linc

5, 1

da

yship more than once on the subject, but has not been honoured with any reply. Doubtless had there been any mistake as to the necklace being in your hands we should have been so informed. The diamonds were withdrawn from Messrs. Garnett's, the jewellers, by Sir Florian soon after his marriage, and were, no doubt, entrusted to y

rdown, Senior, on the subject, to explain to you that if attention be not paid to this letter, we sha

the hono

da

's most obedi

rdown

dy Eu

.

mperdown got the letter-book of the off

you're to get the

f showing that they have become leg

she sol

-an ample provision for a younger son. And she is to be allowed to filch it, as other widows filch china

ry unpleasant,

er that their best way out of it all would be to get the widow married to some respectable husband. She was sure to marry sooner or later,-so John Eustace said,-and any "decently decent" fellow would be ea

em valued by her old friend Mr. Benjamin-of the firm of Harter and Benjamin. Mr. Benjamin had suggested that stones of such a value should not be left to the risk of an ordinary London house; but Lizzie had felt that if Mr. Benjamin got them into his hands, Mr. Benjamin might perhaps not return them. Messrs. Camperdown and Garnett between them might form a league with Mr. Benjamin. Where would she be, should Mr. Benjamin tell her that under some legal sanction he had given the

London, had told her that they were family jewels. "That setting was done for my mother," he said, "but it is already old. When we are at home again they shall be reset." Then he had added some little husband's joke as to a future daughter-in-law who should wear them. Nevertheless she was not sure whether the fact of their being so handed to her did not make t

and Mr. Benjamin were the allies to whom she looked for guidance; but she was wise enough to know that Mowbray and Mopus, and Harter and Benjamin were not trustworthy, whereas Camperdown and Son and the Messrs. Garnett were all as firm as rocks and as respectable as the Bank of England. Circumstances,-unfortunate circumstances,-drove her to Harter and Benjamin and to Mowbray and Mopus, while she would have taken so much delight in feeling the strong honesty of the other people to be on her side! She would have talked to her friends about Mr. Camperdown and the people at Garnett's with so much satisfaction! But ease, se

minded friend, who would advise her as a matter of course to make restitution. Her uncle the dean, or her cousin Frank, or old Lady Fawn, would be sure to give h

d. She had sat down by his side, and looked into his handsome face, and read poetry to him,-because of his wealth, and because it had been indispensable to her to settle herself well. And he had been all very well,-a generous, open-hearted, chivalrous, irascible, but rather heavy-minded gentleman; but she had never been in love with him. Now she desired to be so in love that she could surrender everything t

ople did not quite trust her. The Camperdowns and Garnetts utterly distrusted her. The Mopuses and Benjamins were more familiar than they would be with a really great lady. She was sharp enough to understand all this. Should it be Lord Fawn or should it be a Corsair? The worst of Lord Fawn was the undoubted fact that he was not h

uch dependence; nor, indeed, had she endeavoured to reject it. It had come to her as a matter of course,-either that or the poor-house. As to earning her bread, except by that attendance which a poor friend gives,-the idea of any possibility that way had never entered her head. She could do nothing,-except dress like a lady with the smallest possible cost, and endeavour to be obliging. Now, at this moment, her

d blind was kept across the single window, and the folding doors of the room were nearly closed, and there was a feeling of evening in the room. The necklace during the whole day had been so heavy on Lizzie's heart, that she had been unab

ean th

s a great big thing. I had it made especia

osed it

er there's any

the house. I should have them kept where Sir Florian k

afraid of tha

will you do with it w

own care. I know that wasn't safe.

o keep such things,"

d for confidence. "I cannot trust them anywhere," she sai

a law

threw them round my neck he told me that they were my own;-so he did. How can a woman give up such a present,-from a husband,-who is dead? As to the value, I car

hey can't take them from

e way from the India Office to the House of Lords; but a Hansom cab can make it almost in the way. Of neglect of official duty Lord Fawn was never guilty; but a half hour for private business or for relaxation between one stage of duty and another,-can any Minister grudge so much to an indefatigable follower? Lady Eustace had been in tears as he was announced, but the light of the room was so low that the traces o

answer him?" asked Mi

way in which Lord Fawn made love, and thought that from him it was as good as any other way. If she were to marry a second time simply with the view of being a peeress, of having a respected husband, and making good her footing in the world, she would as lief listen to parliamentary details and the prospects

intense interest, feeling that, had it been his lot to perform that task before he

other good gifts that of economy had not been bestowed upon him. He owed a little money, and though he owed it, he went on spending his earnings. He wanted just such a lift in the world as a wife with an income would give him. As for looking about for a girl whom he could honestly love, and who should have a fortune of her own as well as beauty, birth, and all the other things,-that was out of his reach. If he talked to himself of love, if he were ever to acknowledge to himself that love was to have sway over him, then must Lucy Morris be the mis

had certain Corsair propensities. He was bold and dashing, unscrupulous and clever, a man to make a name for himself, and one to whom a woman could endure to be obedient. There could be no question as to choice between him and Lord Fawn, if s

Fawn went. He perhaps remembered that the Hansom cab was at the door,-costing sixpence every fifteen minutes,-and that he wished to show himself in the Hou

soli

ardly

give him permission to console all her sorrows, when there came a clattering double-knock at the door. "They know I shall be at home to nobody else now," said Lady Eustace. But Fr