The Diamonds Are Seen in Public
Let it not be supposed that Lady Eustace, during these summer weeks,
was living the life of a recluse. The London season was in its full
splendour, and she was by no means a recluse. During the first year
of her widowhood she had been every inch a widow,--as far as crape
would go, and a quiet life either at Bobsborough or Portray Castle.
During this year her child was born,--and she was in every way
thrown upon her good behaviour, living with bishops' wives and deans'
daughters. Two years of retreat from the world is generally thought
to be the proper thing for a widow. Lizzie had not quite accomplished
her two years before she re-opened the campaign in Mount Street with
very small remnants of weeds, and with her crape brought down to a
minimum;--but she was young and rich, and the world is aware that a
woman of twenty-two can hardly afford to sacrifice two whole years.
In the matter of her widowhood Lizzie did not encounter very much
reproach. She was not shunned, or so ill spoken of as to have a
widely-spread bad name among the streets and squares in which her
carriage-wheels rolled. People called her a flirt, held up their
hands in surprise at Sir Florian's foolish generosity,--for the
accounts of Lizzie's wealth were greatly exaggerated,--and said that
of course she would marry again.
The general belief which often seizes upon the world in regard to
some special falsehood is very surprising. Everybody on a sudden
adopts an idea that some particular man is over head and ears
in debt, so that he can hardly leave his house for fear of the
bailiffs;--or that some ill-fated woman is cruelly ill-used by her
husband;--or that some eldest son has ruined his father; whereas the
man doesn't owe a shilling, the woman never hears a harsh word from
her lord, and the eldest son in question has never succeeded in
obtaining a shilling beyond his allowance. One of the lies about
London this season was founded on the extent of Lady Eustace's
jointure. Indeed, the lie went on to state that the jointure was
more than a jointure. It was believed that the property in Ayrshire
was her own, to do what she pleased with it. That the property in
Ayrshire was taken at double its value was a matter of course. It had
been declared, at the time of his marriage, that Sir Florian had been
especially generous to his penniless wife, and the generosity was
magnified in the ordinary way. No doubt Lizzie's own diligence had
done much to propagate the story as to her positive ownership of
Portray. Mr. Camperdown had been very busy denying this. John Eustace
had denied it whenever occasion offered. The bishop in his quiet way
had denied it. Lady Linlithgow had denied it. But the lie had been
set on foot and had thriven, and there was hardly a man about town
who didn't know that Lady Eustace had eight or nine thousand a year,
altogether at her own disposal, down in Scotland. Of course a woman
so endowed, so rich, so beautiful, so clever, so young, would marry
again, and would marry well. No doubt, added to this there was a
feeling that "Lizzie," as she was not uncommonly called by people who
had hardly ever seen her, had something amiss with it all. "I don't
know where it is she's lame," said that very clever man, Captain
Boodle, who had lately reappeared among his military friends at his
club, "but she don't go flat all round."
"She has the devil of a temper, no doubt," said Lieutenant Griggs.
"No mouth, I should say," said Boodle. It was thus that Lizzie was
talked about at the clubs; but she was asked to dinners and balls,
and gave little dinners herself, and to a certain extent was the
fashion. Everybody had declared that of course she would marry again,
and now it was known everywhere that she was engaged to Lord Fawn.
"Poor dear Lord Fawn!" said Lady Glencora Palliser to her dear friend
Madame Max Goesler; "do you remember how violently he was in love
with Violet Effingham two years ago?"
"Two years is a long time, Lady Glencora; and Violet Effingham has
chosen another husband."
"But isn't this a fall for him? Violet was the sweetest girl out, and
at one time I really thought she meant to take him."
"I thought she meant to take another man whom she did not take,"
said Madame Goesler, who had her own recollections, who was a widow
herself, and who, at the period to which Lady Glencora was referring,
had thought that perhaps she might cease to be a widow. Not that she
had ever suggested to herself that Lord Fawn might be her second
husband.
"Poor Lord Fawn!" continued Lady Glencora. "I suppose he is terribly
in want of money."
"But surely Lady Eustace is very pretty."
"Yes;--she is very pretty; nay more, she is quite lovely to look at.
And she is clever,--very. And she is rich,--very. But--"
"Well, Lady Glencora. What does your 'but' mean?"
"Who ever explains a 'but'? You're a great deal too clever, Madame
Goesler, to want any explanation. And I couldn't explain it. I can
only say I'm sorry for poor Lord Fawn,--who is a gentleman, but will
never set the Thames on fire."
"No, indeed. All the same, I like Lord Fawn extremely," said Madame
Goesler, "and I think he's just the man to marry Lady Eustace. He's
always at his office or at the House."
"A man may be a great deal at his office, and a great deal more at
the House than Lord Fawn," said Lady Glencora laughing, "and yet
think about his wife, my dear." For of all men known, no man spent
more hours at the House or in his office than did Lady Glencora's
husband, Mr. Palliser, who at this time, and had now for more than
two years, filled the high place of Chancellor of the Exchequer.
This conversation took place in Madame Goesler's little drawing-room
in Park Lane; but, three days after this, the same two ladies
met again at the house then occupied by Lady Chiltern in Portman
Square,--Lady Chiltern, with whom, as Violet Effingham, poor Lord
Fawn had been much in love. "I think it is the nicest match in the
world for him," Lady Chiltern had said to Madame Goesler.
"But have you heard of the diamonds?" asked Lady Glencora.
"What diamonds?" "Whose diamonds?" Neither of the others had heard
of the diamonds, and Lady Glencora was able to tell her story. Lady
Eustace had found all the family jewels belonging to the Eustace
family in the strong plate room at Portray Castle, and had taken
possession of them as property found in her own house. John Eustace
and the bishop had combined in demanding them on behalf of the
heir, and a lawsuit had then commenced! The diamonds were the most
costly belonging to any Commoner in England, and had been valued
at twenty-four thousand pounds! Lord Fawn had retreated from his
engagement the moment he heard that any doubt was thrown on Lady
Eustace's right to their possession! Lady Eustace had declared her
intention of bringing an action against Lord Fawn,--and had also
secreted the diamonds! The reader will be aware that this statement
was by no means an accurate history of the difficulty as far as it
had as yet progressed. It was, indeed, absolutely false in every
detail; but it sufficed to show that the matter was becoming public.
"You don't mean to say that Lord Fawn is off?" asked Madame Goesler.
"I do," said Lady Glencora.
"Poor Lord Fawn!" exclaimed Lady Chiltern. "It really seems as though
he never would be settled."
"I don't think he has courage enough for such conduct as that," said
Madame Goesler.
"And besides, Lady Eustace's income is quite certain," said Lady
Chiltern, "and poor dear Lord Fawn does want money so badly."
"But it is very disagreeable," said Lady Glencora, "to believe that
your wife has got the finest diamonds in England, and then to find
that she has only--stolen them. I think Lord Fawn is right. If a man
does marry for money he should have the money. I wonder she ever took
him. There is no doubt about her beauty, and she might have done
better."
"I won't hear Lord Fawn be-littled," said Lady Chiltern.
"Done better!" said Madame Goesler. "How could she have done better?
He is a peer, and her son would be a peer. I don't think she could
have done better." Lady Glencora in her time had wished to marry a
man who had sought her for her money. Lady Chiltern in her time had
refused to be Lady Fawn. Madame Goesler in her time had declined
to marry an English peer. There was, therefore, something more of
interest in the conversation to each of them than was quite expressed
in the words spoken. "Is she to be at your party on Friday, Lady
Glencora?" asked Madame Goesler.
"She has said she would come,--and so has Lord Fawn; for that matter,
Lord Fawn dines with us. She'll find that out, and then she'll stay
away."
"Not she," said Lady Chiltern. "She'll come for the sake of the
bravado. She's not the woman to show the white feather."
"If he's ill-using her she's quite right," said Madame Goesler.
"And wear the very diamonds in dispute," said Lady Chiltern. It was
thus that the matter was discussed among ladies in the town.
"Is Fawn's marriage going on?" This question was asked of Mr. Legge
Wilson by Barrington Erle. Mr. Legge Wilson was the Secretary of
State for India, and Barrington Erle was in the Government.
"Upon my word I don't know," said Mr. Wilson. "The work goes on at
the office;--that's all I know about Fawn. He hasn't told me of his
marriage, and therefore I haven't spoken to him about it."
"He hasn't made it official?"
"The papers haven't come before me yet," said Mr. Wilson.
"When they do they'll be very awkward papers, as far as I hear," said
Barrington Erle. "There is no doubt they were engaged, and I believe
there is no doubt that he has declared off, and refused to give any
reason."
"I suppose the money is not all there," suggested Mr. Wilson.
"There's a queer story going about as to some diamonds. No one knows
whom they belong to, and they say that Fawn has accused her of
stealing them. He wants to get hold of them, and she won't give them
up. I believe the lawyers are to have a shy at it. I'm sorry for
Fawn. It'll do him a deal of mischief."
"You'll find he won't come out much amiss," said Mr. Legge Wilson.
"He's as cautious a man as there is in London. If there is anything
wrong--"
"There is a great deal wrong," said Barrington Erle.
"You'll find it will be on her side."
"And you'll find also that she'll contrive that all the blame shall
lie upon him. She's clever enough for anything! Who's to be the new
bishop?"
"I have not heard Gresham say as yet; Jones, I should think," said
Mr. Wilson.
"And who is Jones?"
"A clergyman, I suppose,--of the safe sort. I don't know that
anything else is necessary." From which it will be seen that Mr.
Wilson had his own opinion about church matters, and also that people
very high up in the world were concerning themselves about poor
Lizzie's affairs.
Lady Eustace did go to Lady Glencora's evening party, in spite of Mr.
Camperdown and all her difficulties. Lady Chiltern had been quite
right in saying that Lizzie was not the woman to show the white
feather. She went, knowing that she would meet Lord Fawn, and she did
wear the diamonds. It was the first time that they had been round her
neck since the occasion in respect to which Sir Florian had placed
them in her hands, and it had not been without much screwing up of
her courage that she had resolved to appear on this occasion with the
much-talked-of ornament upon her person. It was now something over
a fortnight since she had parted with Lord Fawn at Fawn Court; and,
although they were still presumed to be engaged to marry each other,
and were both living in London, she had not seen him since. A sort
of message had reached her, through Frank Greystock, to the effect
that Lord Fawn thought it as well that they should not meet till
the matter was settled. Stipulations had been made by Frank on her
behalf, and this had been inserted among them. She had received the
message with scorn,--with a mixture of scorn and gratitude,--of
scorn in regard to the man who had promised to marry her, and of
affectionate gratitude to the cousin who had made the arrangement.
"Of course I shall not wish to see him while he chooses to entertain
such an idea," she had said, "but I shall not keep out of his way.
You would not wish me to keep out of his way, Frank?" When she
received a card for Lady Glencora's party, very soon after this, she
was careful to answer it in such a manner as to impress Lady Glencora
with a remembrance of her assent. Lord Fawn would probably be
there,--unless he remained away in order to avoid her. Then she had
ten days in which to make up her mind as to wearing the diamonds. Her
courage was good; but then her ignorance was so great! She did not
know whether Mr. Camperdown might not contrive to have them taken
by violence from her neck, even on Lady Glencora's stairs. Her best
security,--so she thought,--would be in the fact that Mr. Camperdown
would not know of her purpose. She told no one,--not even Miss
Macnulty; but she appeared before that lady, arrayed in all her
glory, just as she was about to descend to her carriage. "You've got
the necklace on!" said Miss Macnulty. "Why should I not wear my own
necklace?" she asked, with assumed anger.
Lady Glencora's rooms were already very full when Lizzie entered
them, but she was without a gentleman, and room was made for her
to pass quickly up the stairs. The diamonds had been recognised by
many before she had reached the drawing-room;--not that these very
diamonds were known, or that there was a special memory for that
necklace;--but the subject had been so generally discussed, that the
blaze of the stones immediately brought it to the minds of men and
women. "There she is, with poor Eustace's twenty thousand pounds
round her neck," said Laurence Fitzgibbon to his friend Barrington
Erle. "And there is Lord Fawn going to look after them," replied the
other.
Lord Fawn thought it right, at any rate, to look after his bride.
Lady Glencora had whispered into his ear before they went down to
dinner that Lady Eustace would be there in the evening, so that he
might have the option of escaping or remaining. Could he have escaped
without any one knowing that he had escaped, he would not have gone
up-stairs after dinner; but he knew that he was observed; he knew
that people were talking about him; and he did not like it to be said
that he had run away. He went up, thinking much of it all, and as
soon as he saw Lady Eustace he made his way to her and accosted her.
Many eyes were upon them, but no ear probably heard how infinitely
unimportant were the words which they spoke to each other. Her manner
was excellent. She smiled and gave him her hand,--just her hand
without the slightest pressure,--and spoke a half-whispered word,
looking into his face, but betraying nothing by her look. Then he
asked her whether she would dance. Yes;--she would stand up for a
quadrille; and they did stand up for a quadrille. As she danced with
no one else, it was clear that she treated Lord Fawn as her lover.
As soon as the dance was done she took his arm and moved for a few
minutes about the room with him. She was very conscious of the
diamonds, but she did not show the feeling in her face. He also was
conscious of them, and he did show it. He did not recognise the
necklace, but he knew well that this was the very bone of contention.
They were very beautiful, and seemed to him to outshine all other
jewellery in the room. And Lady Eustace was a woman of whom it might
almost be said that she ought to wear diamonds. She was made to
sparkle, to be bright with outside garniture,--to shine and glitter,
and be rich in apparel. The only doubt might be whether paste
diamonds might not better suit her character. But these were not
paste, and she did shine and glitter and was very rich. It must not
be brought as an accusation against Lady Glencora's guests that they
pressed round to look at the necklace. Lady Glencora's guests knew
better than to do that. But there was some slight ferment,--slight,
but still felt both by Lord Fawn and by Lady Eustace. Eyes were
turned upon the diamonds, and there were whispers here and there.
Lizzie bore it very well; but Lord Fawn was uncomfortable.
"I like her for wearing them," said Lady Glencora to Lady Chiltern.
"Yes;--if she means to keep them. I don't pretend, however, to know
anything about it. You see the match isn't off."
"I suppose not. What do you think I did? He dined here, you know,
and, before going down-stairs, I told him that she was coming. I
thought it only fair."
"And what did he say?"
"I took care that he shouldn't have to say anything; but, to tell the
truth, I didn't expect him to come up."
"There can't be any quarrel at all," said Lady Chiltern.
"I'm not sure of that," said Lady Glencora. "They are not so very
loving."
Lady Eustace made the most of her opportunity. Soon after the
quadrille was over she asked Lord Fawn to get her carriage for her.
Of course he got it, and of course he put her into it, passing up and
down-stairs twice in his efforts on her behalf. And of course all the
world saw what he was doing. Up to the last moment not a word had
been spoken between them that might not have passed between the most
ordinary acquaintance, but, as she took her seat, she put her face
forward and did say a word. "You had better come to me soon," she
said.
"I will," said Lord Fawn.
"Yes; you had better come soon. All this is wearing me,--perhaps more
than you think."
"I will come soon," said Lord Fawn, and then he returned among Lady
Glencora's guests, very uncomfortable. Lizzie got home in safety and
locked up her diamonds in the iron box.