ut ennui; and that if he were to
marry, little Lizzie Eustace would do as well as any other woman
with money whom he might chance to meet. He did not say all this to
anybody, and therefore cannot be accused of vanity. He was the last
man in the world to speak on such a subject to any one. And as our
Lizzie certainly bestowed upon him many of her smiles, much of her
poetry, and some of her confidence, it cannot be said that he was not
justified in his views. But then she was such "an infernal little
liar." Lord George was quite able to discover so much of her.

"She does lie, certainly," said Mrs. Carbuncle, "but then who
doesn't?"

On the morning of their departure the box with the diamonds was
brought down into the hall just as they were about to depart. The
tall London footman again brought it down, and deposited it on one of
the oak hall-chairs, as though it were a thing so heavy that he could
hardly stagger along with it. How Lizzie did hate the man as she
watched him, and regret that she had not attempted to carry it down
herself. She had been with her diamonds that morning, and had seen
them out of the box and into it. Few days passed on which she did
not handle them and gaze at them. Mrs. Carbuncle had suggested that
the box, with all her diamonds in it, might be stolen from her,--and
as she thought of this her heart almost sank within her. When she
had them once again in London she would take some steps to relieve
herself from this embarrassment of carrying about with her so great a
burthen of care. The man, with a vehement show of exertion, deposited
the box on a chair, and then groaned aloud. Lizzie knew very well
that she could lift the box by her own unaided exertions, and that
the groan was at any rate unnecessary.

"Supposing somebody were to steal that on the way," said Lord George
to her, not in his pleasantest tone.

"Do not suggest anything so horrible," said Lizzie, trying to laugh.

"I shouldn't like it at all," said Lord George.

"I don't think it would make me a bit unhappy. You've heard about it
all. There never was such a persecution. I often say that I should be
well pleased to take the bauble and fling it into the ocean waves."

"I should like to be a mermaid and catch it," said Lord George.

"And what better would you be? Such things are all vanity and
vexation of spirit. I hate the shining thing." And she hit the box
with the whip she held in her hand.

It had been arranged that th