action, and she hardly ever failed. Even
in that terrible moment, when, on her return from the theatre, she
thought that the police had discovered her secret about the diamonds,
though she nearly sank through fear, she still carried on her acting
in the presence of Lucinda Roanoke; and when she had found herself
constrained to tell the truth to Lord George Carruthers, the power
to personify a poor, weak, injured creature was not wanting to her.
The reader will not think that her position in society at the present
moment was very well established,--will feel, probably, that she must
still have known herself to be on the brink of social ruin. But she
had now fully worked herself up to the necessities of the occasion,
and was as able to play her part as well as any actress that ever
walked the boards. She had called him a dastard, and now stood
looking him in the face. "I didn't mean anybody in particular," said
Lord Fawn.

"Then what right can you have to ask me whether I have received
attentions? Had it not been for the affectionate attention of my
cousin, Mr. Greystock, I should have died beneath the load of sorrow
you have heaped upon me!" This she said quite boldly, and yet the
man she named was he of whom Andy Gowran told his horrid story, and
whose love-making to Lizzie had, in Mrs. Hittaway's opinion, been
sufficient to atone for any falling off of strength in the matter of
the diamonds.

"A rumour reached me," said Lord Fawn, plucking up his courage, "that
you were engaged to marry your cousin."

"Then rumour lied, my lord. And he or she who repeated the rumour to
you, lied also. And any he or she who repeats it again will go on
with the lie." Lord Fawn's brow became very black. The word "lie"
itself was offensive to him,--offensive, even though it might not be
applied directly to himself; but he still quailed, and was unable to
express his indignation,--as he had done to poor Lucy Morris, his
mother's governess. "And now let me ask, Lord Fawn, on what ground
you and I stand together. When my friend, Lady Glencora, asked me,
only this morning, whether my engagement with you was still an
existing fact, and brought me the kindest possible message on the
same subject from her uncle, the duke, I hardly knew what answer to
make her." It was not surprising that Lizzie in her difficulties
should use her new friend, but perhaps she over-did the friendship a
little. "I told her that we were engaged, but that your lord