price she
paid for them. It was still mid-winter, but nevertheless there was
generally some amusement arranged for every evening. Mrs. Carbuncle
was very fond of the play, and made herself acquainted with every
new piece as it came out. Every actor and actress of note on the
stage was known to her, and she dealt freely in criticisms on their
respective merits. The three ladies had a box at the Haymarket taken
for this very evening, at which a new piece, "The Noble Jilt," from
the hand of a very eminent author, was to be produced. Mrs. Carbuncle
had talked a great deal about "The Noble Jilt," and could boast
that she had discussed the merits of the two chief characters with
the actor and actress who were to undertake them. Miss Talbot had
assured her that the Margaret was altogether impracticable, and
Mrs. Carbuncle was quite of the same opinion. And as for the hero,
Steinmark,--it was a part that no man could play so as to obtain
the sympathy of an audience. There was a second hero,--a Flemish
Count,--tame as rain-water, Mrs. Carbuncle said. She was very anxious
for the success of the piece, which, as she said, had its merits;
but she was sure that it wouldn't do. She had talked about it a
great deal, and now, when the evening came, she was not going to be
deterred from seeing it by any trouble in reference to a diamond
necklace. Lizzie, when she was left by Lord George, had many doubts
on the subject,--whether she would go or stay at home. If he would
have come to her, or her cousin Frank, or if, had it been possible,
Lord Fawn would have come, she would have given up the play very
willingly. But to be alone,--with her necklace in the desk up-stairs,
or in her pocket, was terrible to her. And then, they could not
search her or her boxes while she was at the theatre. She must not
take the necklace with her there. He had told her to leave it in her
desk, when she went from home.

Lucinda, also, was quite determined that she would see the new piece.
She declared to her aunt, in Lizzie's presence, without a vestige
of a smile, that it might be well to see how a jilt could behave
herself, so as to do her work of jilting in any noble fashion. "My
dear," said her aunt, "you let things weigh upon your heart a great
deal too much." "Not upon my heart, Aunt Jane," the young lady had
answered. She also intended to go, and when she had made up her mind
to anything, nothing would deter her. She had no desire to stay at
home in or