ould he live in the same house with her; and if so, could he
ask his mother and sisters to visit her? He remembered well what Mrs.
Hittaway had called her;--a nasty, low, scheming, ill-conducted,
dishonest little wretch! And he believed that she was so! Yet he was
once again offering to marry her, should she choose to accept him.

Nevertheless, the letter was sent. There was, in truth, no
alternative. He had promised that he would write such a letter, and
all that had remained to him was the power of cramming into it every
available argument against the marriage. This he had done, and, as he
thought, had done well. It was impossible that she should desire to
marry him after reading such a letter as that!

Lizzie received it in her bedroom, where she breakfasted, and told
of its arrival to her friend Mrs. Carbuncle as soon as they met each
other. "My lord has come down from his high horse at last," she said,
with the letter in her hand.

"What,--Lord Fawn?"

"Yes; Lord Fawn. What other lord? There is no other lord for me. He
is my lord, my peer of Parliament, my Cabinet minister, my right
honourable, my member of the Government,--my young man, too, as the
maid-servants call them."

"What does he say?"

"Say;--what should he say?--just that he has behaved very badly, and
that he hopes I shall forgive him."

"Not quite that; does he?"

"That's what it all means. Of course, there is ever so much of
it,--pages of it. It wouldn't be Lord Fawn if he didn't spin it all
out like an Act of Parliament, with 'whereas' and 'wherein,' and
'whereof.' It is full of all that; but the meaning of it is that he's
at my feet again, and that I may pick him up if I choose to take him.
I'd show you the letter, only perhaps it wouldn't be fair to the poor
man."

"What excuse does he make?"

"Oh,--as to that he's rational enough. He calls the necklace
the--bone of contention. That's rather good for Lord Fawn; isn't it?
The bone of contention, he says, has been removed; and, therefore,
there is no reason why we shouldn't marry if we like it. He shall
hear enough about the bone of contention if we do 'marry.'"

"And what shall you do now?"

"Ah, yes; that's easily asked; is it not? The man's a good sort of
man in his way, you know. He doesn't drink or gamble; and I don't
think there is a bit of the King David about him,--that I don't."

"Virtue personified, I should say."

"And he isn't extravagant."

"Then why not have him an