The Eustace Diamonds

and the intercourse for awhile was such as might be looked for between two lovers of whom one was a widow, and the other an Undersecretary of State from the India Office. They were loving, but discreetly amatory, talking chiefly of things material, each flattering the other, and each hinting now and again at certain little circumstances of which a more accurate knowledge seemed to be desirable. The one was conversant with things in general, but was slow; the other was quick as a lizard in turning hither and thither, but knew almost nothing. When she told Lord Fawn that the Ayrshire estate was “her own, to do what she liked with,” she did not know that he would certainly find out the truth from other sources before he married her. Indeed, she was not quite sure herself whether the statement was true or false, though she would not have made it so frequently had her idea of the truth been a fixed idea. It had all been explained to her;⁠—but there had been something about a second son, and there was no second son. Perhaps she might have a second son yet⁠—a future little Lord Fawn, and he might inherit it. In regard to honesty, the man was superior to the woman, because his purpose was declared, and he told no lies;⁠—but the one was as mercenary as the other. It was not love that had brought Lord Fawn to Mount Street.

“What is the name of your place in Ireland?” she asked.

“There is no house, you know.”

“But there was one, Frederic?”

“The town-land where the house used to be, is called Killeagent. The old demesne is called Killaud.”

“What pretty names! and⁠—and⁠—does it go a great many miles?” Lord Fawn explained that it did run a good many miles up into the mountains. “How beautifully romantic!” said Lizzie. “But the people live on the mountain and pay rent?”

Lord Fawn asked no such inept questions respecting the Ayrshire property, but he did inquire who was Lizzie’s solicitor. “Of course there will be things to be settled,” he said, “and my lawyer had better see yours. Mr. Camperdown is a⁠—”

“Mr. Camperdown!” almost shrieked Lizzie. Lord Fawn then explained, with some amazement, that Mr. Camperdown was his lawyer. As far as his belief went, there was not a more respectable gentleman in the profession. Then he inquired whether Lizzie had any objection to Mr. Camperdown. “Mr. Camperdown was Sir Florian’s lawyer,” said Lizzie.

“That will make it all the easier, I should think,” said Lord Fawn.

“I don’t know how that may be,” said Lizzie, trying to bring her mind to work upon the subject steadily. “Mr. Camperdown has been very uncourteous to me;⁠—I must say that; and, as I think, unfair. He wishes to rob me now of a thing that is quite my own.”

“What sort of a thing?” asked Lord Fawn slowly.

“A very valuable thing. I’ll tell you all about it, Frederic. Of course I’ll tell you everything now. I never could keep back anything from one that I loved. It’s not my nature. There; you might as well read that note.” Then she put her hand back and brought Mr. Camperdown’s letter from under the Bible. Lord Fawn read it very attentively, and as he read it there came upon him a great doubt. What sort of woman was this to whom he had engaged himself because she was possessed of an income? That Mr. Camperdown should be in the wrong in such a matter was an idea which never occurred to Lord Fawn. There is no form of belief stronger than that which the ordinary English gentleman has in the discretion and honesty of his own family lawyer. What his lawyer tells him to do, he does. What his lawyer tells him to sign, he signs. He buys and sells in obedience to the same direction, and feels perfectly comfortable in the possession of a guide who is responsible and all but divine. “What diamonds are they?” asked Lord Fawn in a very low voice.

“They are my own⁠—altogether my own. Sir Florian gave them to me. When he put them into my hands, he said that they were to be my own forever and ever. ‘There,’ said he⁠—‘those are yours to do what you choose with them.’ After that they oughtn’t to ask me to give them back⁠—ought they? If you had been married before, and your wife had given you a keepsake⁠—to keep forever and ever, would you give it up to a lawyer? You would not like it;⁠—would you, Frederic?” She had put her hand on his, and was looking up into his face as she asked the question. Again, perhaps, the acting was a little overdone; but there were the tears in her eyes, and the tone of her voice was perfect.

“Mr. Camperdown calls them Eustace diamonds⁠—family diamonds,” said Lord Fawn. “What do they consist of? What are they worth?”

“I’ll show them to you,” said Lizzie, jumping up and hurrying out of the room. Lord Fawn, when he was alone, rubbed his hands over his eyes and thought about it all. It would be a very harsh measure, on the part of the Eustace family and of Mr. Camperdown, to demand from her the surrender of any trinket which her late husband might have given her in the manner she had described. But it was, to his thinking, most improbable that the Eustace people or the lawyer should be harsh to a widow bearing the Eustace name. The Eustaces were by disposition lavish, and old Mr. Camperdown was not one who would be strict in claiming little things for rich clients. And yet here was his letter, threatening the widow of the late baronet with legal proceedings for the recovery of jewels which had been given by Sir Florian himself to his wife as a keepsake! Perhaps Sir Florian had made some mistake, and had caused to be set in a ring or brooch for his bride some jewel