the note which Lady
Glencora had recommended Lizzie to write. It was very short. "Had you
not better come and see me? You can hardly think that things should
be left as they are now. L. E.--Hertford Street, Thursday." He had
hoped,--he had ventured to hope,--that things might be left, and
that they would arrange themselves; that he could throw aside his
engagement without further trouble, and that the subject would drop.
But it was not so. His enemy, Frank Greystock, had demanded from him
a "written explanation" of his conduct. Mr. Camperdown had deserted
him. Lady Glencora Palliser, with whom he had not the honour of any
intimate acquaintance, had taken upon herself to give him advice.
Lord Mount Thistle had found fault with him. And now there had come
a note from Lizzie Eustace herself, which he could hardly venture to
leave altogether unnoticed. On that Friday he dined at his club, and
then went to his sister's house in Warwick Square. If assistance
might be had anywhere, it would be from his sister;--she, at any
rate, would not want courage in carrying on the battle on his behalf.

"Ill-used!" she said, as soon as they were closeted together. "Who
dares to say so?"

"That old fool, Mount Thistle, has been with me."

"I hope, Frederic, you don't mind what such a man as that says. He
has probably been prompted by some friend of hers. And who else?"

"Camperdown turns round now and says that they don't mean to do
anything more about the necklace. Lady Glencora Palliser told me the
other day that all the world believes that the thing was her own."

"What does Lady Glencora Palliser know about it? If Lady Glencora
Palliser would mind her own affairs it would be much better for her.
I remember when she had troubles enough of her own, without meddling
with other people's."

"And now I've got this note." Lord Fawn had already shown Lizzie's
few scrawled words to his sister. "I think I must go and see her."

"Do no such thing, Frederic."

"Why not? I must answer it, and what can I say?"

"If you go there, that woman will be your wife, and you'll never have
a happy day again as long as you live. The match is broken off, and
she knows it. I shouldn't take the slightest notice of her, or of her
cousin, or of any of them. If she chooses to bring an action against
you, that is another thing."

Lord Fawn paused for a few moments before he answered. "I think I
ought to go," he said.

"And I am sure that you ought not.