THE DIAMOND NECKLACE.
Tom went up to London intent upon his diamonds. To tell the truth
he had already made the purchase subject to some question of ready
money. He now paid for it after considerable chaffering as to the odd
pounds, which he succeeded in bringing to a successful termination.
Then he carried the necklace away with him, revolving in his mind the
different means of presentation. He thought that a letter might be
best if only he was master of the language in which such a letter
should properly be written. But he entirely doubted his own powers of
composition. He was so modest in this respect that he would not even
make an attempt. He knew himself well enough to be aware that he was
in many respects ignorant. He would have endeavoured to take the
bracelet personally to Ayala had he not been conscious that he could
not recommend his present with such romantic phrases and touches of
poetry as would be gratifying to her fine sense. Were he to find
himself in her presence with the necklace he must depend on himself
for his words; but a letter might be sent in his own handwriting, the
poetry and romance of which might be supplied by another.
Now it had happened that Tom had formed a marvellous friendship in
Rome with Colonel Stubbs. They had been hunting together in the
Campagna, and Tom had been enabled to accommodate the Colonel with
the loan of a horse when his own had been injured. They had since met
in London, and Stubbs had declared to more than one of his friends
that Tom, in spite of his rings and his jewelry, was a very good
fellow at bottom. Tom had been greatly flattered by the intimacy,
and had lately been gratified by an invitation to Aldershot in order
that the military glories of the camp might be shown to him. He
had accepted the invitation, and a day in the present week had been
fixed. Then it occurred to him suddenly that he knew no one so
fitted to write such a letter as that demanded as his friend Colonel
Jonathan Stubbs. He had an idea that the Colonel, in spite of his red
hair and in spite of a certain aptitude for drollery which pervaded
him, had a romantic side to his character; and he felt confident
that, as to the use of language, the Colonel was very great indeed.
He therefore, when he went to Aldershot, carefully put the bracelet
in his breast-pocket and determined to reveal his secret and to ask
for aid.
The day of his arrival was devoted to the ordinary pursuits of
Aldershot and the evening to festivities, which were prolonged too
late into the night to enable him to carry out his purpose before
he went to bed. He arranged to leave on the next morning by a train
between ten and eleven, and was told that three or four men would
come in to breakfast at half-past nine. His project then seemed to be
all but hopeless. But at last with great courage he made an effort.
"Colonel," said he, just as they were going to bed, "I wonder if you
could give me half-an-hour before breakfast. It is a matter of great
importance." Tom, as he said this, assumed a most solemn face.
"An hour if you like, my dear boy. I am generally up soon after six,
and am always out on horseback before breakfast as soon as the light
serves."
"Then if you'll have me called at half-past seven I shall be ever so
much obliged to you."
The next morning at eight the two were closeted together, and Tom
immediately extracted the parcel from his pocket and opened the
diamonds to view. "Upon my word that is a pretty little trinket,"
said the Colonel, taking the necklace in his hand.
"Three hundred guineas!" said Tom, opening his eyes very wide.
"I daresay."
"That is, it would have been three hundred guineas unless I had come
down with the ready. I made the fellow give me twenty per cent. off.
You should always remember this when you are buying jewelry."
"And what is to be done with this pretty thing? I suppose it is
intended for some fair lady's neck."
"Oh, of course."
"And why has it been brought down to Aldershot? There are plenty of
fellows about this place who will get their hands into your pocket if
they know that you have such a trinket as that about you."
"I will tell you why I brought it," said Tom, very gravely. "It is,
as you say, for a young lady. I intend to make that young lady my
wife. Of course this is a secret, you know."
"It shall be sacred as the Pope's toe," said Stubbs.
"Don't joke about it, Colonel, if you please. It's life and death to
me."
"I'll keep your secret and will not joke. Now what can I do for you."
"I must send this as a present with a letter. I must first tell you
that she has,--well, refused me."
"That never means much the first time, old boy."
"She has refused me half-a-dozen times, but I mean to go on with it.
If she refuses me two dozen times I'll try her a third dozen."
"Then you are quite in earnest?"
"I am. It's a kind of thing I know that men laugh about, but I don't
mind telling you that I am downright in love with her. The governor
approves of it."
"She has got money, probably?"
"Not a shilling;--not as much as would buy a pair of gloves. But I
don't love her a bit the less for that. As to income, the governor
will stump up like a brick. Now I want you to write the letter."
"It's a kind of thing a third person can't do," said the Colonel,
when he had considered the request for a moment.
"Why not? Yes, you can."
"Do it yourself, and say just the simplest words as they come up.
They are sure to go further with any girl than what another man may
write. It is impossible that another man should be natural on such a
task as that."
"Natural! I don't know about natural," said Tom, who was anxious now
to explain the character of the lady in question. "I don't know that
a letter that was particularly natural would please her. A touch of
poetry and romance would go further than anything natural."
"Who is the lady?" asked the Colonel, who certainly was by this time
entitled to be so far inquisitive.
"She is my cousin,--Ayala Dormer."
"Who?"
"Ayala Dormer;--my cousin. She was at Rome, but I do not think you
ever saw her there."
"I have seen her since," said the Colonel.
"Have you? I didn't know."
"She was with my aunt, the Marchesa Baldoni."
"Dear me! So she was. I never put the two things together. Don't you
admire her?"
"Certainly I do. My dear fellow, I can't write this letter for you."
Then he put down the pen which he had taken up as though he had
intended to comply with his friend's request. "You may take it as
settled that I cannot write it."
"No?"
"Impossible. One man should never write such a letter for another
man. You had better give the thing in person,--that is, if you mean
to go on with the matter."
"I shall certainly go on with it," said Tom, stoutly.
"After a certain time, you know, reiterated offers do, you
know,--do,--do,--partake of the nature of persecution."
"Reiterated refusals are the sort of persecution I don't like."
"It seems to me that Ayala,--Miss Dormer. I mean,--should be
protected by a sort of feeling,--feeling of--of what I may perhaps
call her dependent position. She is peculiarly,--peculiarly
situated."
"If she married me she would be much better situated. I could give
her everything she wants."
"It isn't an affair of money, Mr. Tringle."
Tom felt, from the use of the word Mister, that he was in some way
giving offence; but felt also that there was no true cause for
offence. "When a man offers everything," he said, "and asks for
nothing, I don't think he should be said to persecute."
"After a time it becomes persecution. I am sure Ayala would feel it
so."
"My cousin can't suppose that I am ill-using her," said Tom, who
disliked the "Ayala" quite as much as he did the "Mister."
"Miss Dormer, I meant. I can have nothing further to say about it. I
can't write the letter, and I should not imagine that Ayala,--Miss
Dormer,--would be moved in the least by any present that could
possibly be made to her. I must go out now, if you don't mind, for
half-an-hour; but I shall be back in time for breakfast."
Then Tom was left alone with the necklace lying on the table before
him. He knew that something was wrong with the Colonel, but could not
in the least guess what it might be. He was quite aware that early
in the interview the Colonel had encouraged him to persevere with
the lady, and had then, suddenly, not only advised him to desist,
but had told him in so many words that he was bound to desist out of
consideration for the lady. And the Colonel had spoken of his cousin
in a manner that was distasteful to him. He could not analyse his
feelings. He did not exactly know why he was displeased, but he was
displeased. The Colonel, when asked for his assistance, was, of
course, bound to talk about the lady,--would be compelled, by the
nature of the confidence, to mention the lady's name;--would even
have been called on to write her Christian name. But this he should
have done with a delicacy;--almost with a blush. Instead of that
Ayala's name had been common on his tongue. Tom felt himself to be
offended, but hardly knew why. And then, why had he been called
Mister Tringle? The breakfast, which was eaten shortly afterwards
in the company of three or four other men, was not eaten in
comfort;--and then Tom hurried back to London and to Lombard Street.
After this failure Tom felt it to be impossible to go to another
friend for assistance. There had been annoyance in describing his
love to Colonel Stubbs, and pain in the treatment he had received.
Even had there been another friend to whom he could have confided the
task, he could not have brought himself to encounter the repetition
of such treatment. He was as firmly fixed as ever in his conviction
that he could not write the letter himself. And, as he thought of the
words with which he should accompany a personal presentation of the
necklace, he reflected that in all probability he might not be able
to force his way into Ayala's presence. Then a happy thought struck
him. Mrs. Dosett was altogether on his side. Everybody was on his
side except Ayala herself, and that pigheaded Colonel. Would it not
be an excellent thing to entrust the necklace to the hands of his
Aunt Dosett, in order that she might give it over to Ayala with all
the eloquence in her power. Satisfied with this project he at once
wrote a note to Mrs. Dosett.
MY DEAR AUNT,
I want to see you on _most important business_. If I shall
not be troubling you, I will call upon you to-morrow at
ten o'clock, before I go to my place of business.
Yours affectionately,
T. TRINGLE, Junior.
On the following morning he apparelled himself with all his rings.
He was a good-hearted, well-intentioned young man, with excellent
qualities; but he must have been slow of intellect when he had not
as yet learnt the deleterious effect of all those rings. On this
occasion he put on his rings, his chains, and his bright waistcoat,
and made himself a thing disgusting to be looked at by any
well-trained female. As far as his aunt was concerned he would have
been altogether indifferent as to his appearance, but there was
present to his mind some small hope that he might be allowed to see
Ayala, as the immediate result of the necklace. Should he see Ayala,
then how unfortunate it would be that he should present himself
before the eyes of his mistress without those adornments which he did
not doubt would be grateful to her. He had heard from Ayala's own
lips that all things ought to be pretty. Therefore he endeavoured
to make himself pretty. Of course he failed,--as do all men who
endeavour to make themselves pretty,--but it was out of the question
that he should understand the cause of his failure.
"Aunt Dosett, I want you to do me a very great favour," he began,
with a solemn voice.
"Are you going to a party, Tom," she said.
"A party! No,--who gives a party in London at this time of the day?
Oh, you mean because I have just got a few things on. When I call
anywhere I always do. I have got another lady to see, a lady of rank,
and so I just made a change." But this was a fib.
"What can I do for you, Tom?"
"I want you to look at that." Then he brought out the necklace, and,
taking it out of the case, displayed the gems tastefully upon the
table.
"I do believe they are diamonds," said Mrs. Dosett.
"Yes; they are diamonds. I am not the sort of fellow to get anything
sham. What do you think that little thing cost, Aunt Dosett?"
"I haven't an idea. Sixty pounds, perhaps!"
"Sixty pounds! Do you go into a jeweller's shop and see what you
could do among diamonds with sixty pounds!"
"I never do go into jewellers' shops, Tom."
"Nor I, very often. It's a sort of place where a fellow can drop a
lot of money. But I did go into one after this. It don't look much,
does it?"
"It is very pretty."
"I think it is pretty. Well, Aunt Dosett, the price for that little
trifle was three--hundred--guineas!" As he said this he looked into
his aunt's face for increased admiration.
"You gave three hundred guineas for it!"
"I went with ready money in my hand, when I tempted the man with a
cheque to let me have it for two hundred and fifty pounds. In buying
jewelry you should always do that."
"I never buy jewelry," said Mrs. Dosett, crossly.
"If you should, I mean. Now, I'll tell you what I want you to do.
This is for Ayala."
"For Ayala!"
"Yes, indeed. I am not the fellow to stick at a trifle when I want to
carry my purpose. I bought this the other day and gave ready money
for it,--two hundred and fifty pounds,--on purpose to give it to
Ayala. In naming the value,--of course you'll do that when you give
it her,--you might as well say three hundred guineas. That was the
price on the ticket. I saw it myself,--so there won't be any untruth
you know."
"Am I to give it her?"
"That's just what I want. When I talk to her she flares up, and, as
likely as not, she'd fling the necklace at my head."
"She wouldn't do that, I hope."
"It would depend upon how the thing went. When I do talk to her it
always seems that nothing I say can be right. Now, if you will give
it her you can put in all manner of pretty things."
"This itself will be the prettiest thing," said Mrs. Dosett.
"That's just what I was thinking. Everybody agrees that diamonds will
go further with a girl than anything else. When I told the governor
he quite jumped at the idea."
"Sir Thomas knows you are giving it?"
"Oh, dear, yes. I had to get the rhino from him. I don't go about
with two hundred and fifty pounds always in my own pocket."
"If he had sent the money to Ayala how much better it would have
been," said poor Mrs. Dosett.
"I don't think that at all. Who ever heard of making a present to a
young lady in money. Ayala is romantic, and that would have been the
most unromantic thing out. That would not have done me the least good
in the world. It would simply have gone to buy boots and petticoats
and such like. A girl would never be brought to think of her lover
merely by putting on a pair of boots. When she fastens such a
necklace as this round her throat he ought to have a chance. Don't
you think so, Aunt Dosett?"
"Tom, shall I tell you something?" said the aunt.
"What is it, Aunt Dosett?"
"I don't believe that you have a chance."
"Do you mean that?" he asked, sorrowfully.
"I do."
"You think that the necklace will do no good?"
"Not the least. Of course I will offer it to her if you wish it,
because her uncle and I quite approve of you as a husband for Ayala.
But I am bound to tell you the truth. I do not think the necklace
will do you any good." Then he sat silent for a time, meditating upon
his condition. It might be imprudent;--it might be a wrong done to
his father to jeopardise the necklace. How could it be if Ayala were
to take the necklace and not to take him? "Am I to give it?" she
asked.
"Yes," said he, bravely, but with a sigh; "give it her all the same."
"From you or from Sir Thomas?"
"Oh, from me;--from me. If she were told it came from the governor
she'd keep it whether or no. I am sure I hope she will keep it," he
said, trying to remove the bad impression which his former words
might perhaps have left.
"You may be sure she will not keep it," said Mrs. Dosett, "unless she
should intend to accept your hand. Of that I can hold out no hope to
you. There is a matter, Tom, which I think I should tell you as you
are so straightforward in your offer. Another gentleman has asked her
to marry him."
"She has accepted him!" exclaimed Tom.
"No, she has not accepted him. She has refused him."
"Then I'm just where I was," said Tom.
"She has refused him, but I think that she is in a sort of way
attached to him; and though he too has been refused I imagine that
his chance is better than yours."
"And who the d---- is he?" said Tom, jumping up from his seat in
great excitement.
"Tom!" exclaimed Mrs. Dosett.
"I beg your pardon; but you see this is very important. Who is the
fellow?"
"He is one Colonel Jonathan Stubbs."
"Who?"
"Colonel Jonathan Stubbs."
"Impossible! It can't be Colonel Stubbs. I know Colonel Stubbs."
"I can assure you it is true, Tom. I have had a letter from a
lady,--a relative of Colonel Stubbs,--telling me the whole story."
"Colonel Stubbs!" he said. "That passes anything I ever heard. She
has refused him?"
"Yes, she has refused him."
"And has not accepted him since?"
"She certainly has not accepted him yet."
"You may give her the bracelet all the same," said Tom, hurrying out
of the room. That Colonel Stubbs should have made an offer to Ayala,
and yet have accepted his, Tom Tringle's, confidence!