ar." The ring had
been given to him by Lucy after their engagement, and was the only
present she had ever made him. It had been purchased out of her own
earnings, and had been put on his finger by her own hand. Either
from accident or craft he had not worn it when he had been before at
Portray, and Lizzie had at once observed it as a thing she had never
seen before. She knew well that he would not buy such a ring. Who
had given him the ring? Frank almost blushed as he looked down at
the trinket, and Lizzie was sure that it had been given by that sly
little creeping thing, Lucy. "Let me look at the ring," she said.
"Nobody could stop you if you chose to sell this to me."

"Little things are always less troublesome than big things," he said.

"What is the price?" she asked.

"It is not in the market, Lizzie. Nor should your diamonds be there.
You must be content to let them take what legal steps they may think
fit, and defend your property. After that you can do as you please;
but keep them safe till the thing is settled. If I were you I would
have them at the bankers."

"Yes;--and then when I asked for them be told that they couldn't be
given up to me, because of Mr. Camperdown or the Lord Chancellor.
And what's the good of a thing locked up? You wear your ring;--why
shouldn't I wear my necklace?"

"I have nothing to say against it."

"It isn't that I care for such things. Do I, Julia?"

"All ladies like them, I suppose," said that stupidest and most
stubborn of all humble friends, Miss Macnulty.

"I don't like them at all, and you know I don't. I hate them. They
have been the misery of my life. Oh, how they have tormented me! Even
when I am asleep I dream about them, and think that people steal
them. They have never given me one moment's happiness. When I have
them on I am always fearing that Camperdown and Son are behind me and
are going to clutch them. And I think too well of myself to believe
that anybody will care more for me because of a necklace. The only
good they have ever done me has been to save me from a man who I now
know never cared for me. But they are mine;--and therefore I choose
to keep them. Though I am only a woman I have an idea of my own
rights, and will defend them as far as they go. If you say I ought
not to sell them, Frank, I'll keep them; but I'll wear them as
commonly as you do that gage d'amour which you carry on your finger.
Nobody shall ever see me without them. I won't go to any