the facts as to that
night at Carlisle. She had brought him to succumb, because he could
no longer justify his treatment of her by reference to the diamonds.
But when once all the world should know that she had twice perjured
herself, his justification would be complete,--and his escape
would be certain. She would use his letter simply to achieve that
revenge which she had promised herself. Her effort,--her last final
effort,--must be made to secure the hand and heart of her cousin
Frank. "Ah, 'tis his heart I want!" she said to herself.

She must settle something before she went to Scotland,--if there was
anything that could be settled. If she could only get a promise from
Frank before all her treachery had been exposed, he probably would
remain true to his promise. He would not desert her as Lord Fawn had
done. Then, after much thinking of it, she resolved upon a scheme
which, of all her schemes, was the wickedest. Whatever it might cost
her, she would create a separation between Frank Greystock and Lucy
Morris. Having determined upon this, she wrote to Lucy, asking her to
call in Hertford Street at a certain hour.

DEAR LUCY,

I particularly want to see you,--on business. Pray come to
me at twelve to-morrow. I will send the carriage for you,
and it will take you back again. Pray do this. We used to
love one another, and I am sure I love you still.

Your affectionate old friend,

LIZZIE.

As a matter of course Lucy went to her. Lizzie, before the interview,
studied the part she was to play with all possible care,--even to the
words which she was to use. The greeting was at first kindly, for
Lucy had almost forgotten the bribe that had been offered to her, and
had quite forgiven it. Lizzie Eustace never could be dear to her;
but,--so Lucy had thought during her happiness,--this former friend
of hers was the cousin of the man who was to be her husband, and was
dear to him. Of course she had forgiven the offence. "And now, dear,
I want to ask you a question," Lizzie said; "or rather, perhaps not a
question. I can do it better than that. I think that my cousin Frank
once talked of--of making you his wife." Lucy answered not a word,
but she trembled in every limb, and the colour came to her face. "Was
it not so, dear?"

"What if it was? I don't know why you should ask me any question like
that about myself."

"Is he not my cousin?"

"Yes,--he is your cousin. Why don't you ask him? You