his mind. He could only suggest that he himself would go and see Mr.
Camperdown, and ascertain what ought to be done. To the last, he
adhered to his assurance that Mr. Camperdown could do no evil;--till
Lizzie, in her wrath, asked him whether he believed Mr. Camperdown's
word before hers. "I think he would understand a matter of business
better than you," said the prudent lover.
"He wants to rob me," said Lizzie, "and I shall look to you to
prevent it."
When Lord Fawn took his leave,--which he did not do till he
had counselled her again and again to leave the matter in Mr.
Camperdown's hands,--the two were not in good accord together. It was
his fixed purpose, as he declared to her, to see Mr. Camperdown; and
it was her fixed purpose,--so, at least, she declared to him,--to
keep the diamonds, in spite of Mr. Camperdown. "But, my dear, if it's
decided against you--" said Lord Fawn gravely.
"It can't be decided against me, if you stand by me as you ought to
do."
"I can do nothing," said Lord Fawn, in a tremor. Then Lizzie looked
at him,--and her look, which was very eloquent, called him a poltroon
as plain as a look could speak. Then they parted, and the signs of
affection between them were not satisfactory.
The door was hardly closed behind him before Lizzie began to declare
to herself that he shouldn't escape her. It was not yet twenty-four
hours since she had been telling herself that she did not like the
engagement and would break it off; and now she was stamping her
little feet, and clenching her little hands, and swearing to herself
by all her gods, that this wretched, timid lordling should not get
out of her net. She did, in truth, despise him because he would not
clutch the jewels. She looked upon him as mean and paltry because he
was willing to submit to Mr. Camperdown. But still she was prompted
to demand all that could be demanded from her engagement,--because
she thought that she perceived a something in him which might
produce in him a desire to be relieved from it. No! he should not be
relieved. He should marry her. And she would keep the key of that
iron box with the diamonds, and he should find what sort of a noise
she would make if he attempted to take it from her. She closed the
morocco case, ascended with it to her bed-room, locked it up in the
iron safe, deposited the little patent key in its usual place round
her neck, and then seated herself at her desk, and wrote letters to
her various f
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