"Who else? What other lord and master? My bosom's own; my heart's best hope; my spot of terra firma; my cool running brook of fresh water; my rock; my love; my lord; my all! Is he always thinking of his absent Lizzie? Does he still toil at Downing Street? Oh, dear; do you remember, Frank, when he told us that 'one of us must remain in town?'"

"I have seen him."

"So you wrote me word."

"And I have seen a very obstinate, pig-headed, but nevertheless honest and truth-speaking gentleman."

"Frank, I don't care twopence for his honesty and truth. If he ill-treats me--" Then she paused; looking into his face she had seen at once by the manner in which he had taken her badinage, without a smile, that it was necessary that she should be serious as to her matrimonial prospects. "I suppose I had better let you tell your story," she said, "and I will sit still and listen."

"He means to ill-treat you."

"And you will let him?"

"You had better listen, as you promised, Lizzie. He declares that the marriage must be off at once unless you will send those diamonds to Mr. Camperdown or to the jewellers."

"And by what law or rule does he justify himself in a decision so monstrous? Is he prepared to prove that the property is not my own?"

"If you ask me my opinion as a lawyer, I doubt whether any such proof can be shown. But as a man and a friend I do advise you to give them up."

"Never!"

"You must, of course, judge for yourself;--but that is my advice. You had better, however, hear my whole story."

"Certainly," said Lizzie. Her whole manner was now changed. She had extricated herself from the crouching position in which her feet, her curl, her arms, her whole body had been so arranged as to combine the charm of her beauty with the charm of proffered intimacy. Her dress was such as a woman would wear to receive her brother, and yet it had been studied. She had no gems about her but what she might well wear in her ordinary life, and yet the very rings on her fingers had not been put on without reference to her cousin Frank. Her position had been one of lounging ease, such as a woman might adopt when all alone, giving herself all the luxuries of solitude;--but she had adopted it in special reference to cousin Frank. Now she was in earnest, with business before her; and though it may be said of her that she could never forget her appearance in presence of a man whom she desired to please, her curl, and rings, and att.i.tude were for the moment in the background. She had seated herself on a common chair, with her hands upon the table, and was looking into Frank's face with eager, eloquent, and combative eyes. She would take his law, because she believed in it; but, as far as she could see as yet, she would not take his advice unless it were backed by his law.

"Mr. Camperdown," continued Greystock, "has consented to prepare a case for opinion, though he will not agree that the Eustace estate shall be bound by that opinion."

"Then what's the good of it?"

"We shall at least know, all of us, what is the opinion of some lawyer qualified to understand the circ.u.mstances of the case."

"Why isn't your opinion as good as that of any lawyer?"

"I couldn't give an opinion;--not otherwise than as a private friend to you, which is worth nothing, unless for your private guidance. Mr.

Camperdown--"

"I don't care one straw for Mr. Camperdown."

"Just let me finish."

"Oh, certainly;--and you mustn't be angry with me, Frank. The matter is so much to me; isn't it?"

"I won't be angry. Do I look as if I were angry? Mr. Camperdown is right."

"I daresay he may be--what you call right. But I don't care about Mr.

Camperdown a bit."

"He has no power, nor has John Eustace any power, to decide that the property which may belong to a third person shall be jeopardised by any arbitration. The third person could not be made to lose his legal right by any such arbitration, and his claim, if made, would still have to be tried."

"Who is the third person, Frank?"

"Your own child at present."

"And will not he have it any way?"

"Camperdown and John Eustace say that it belongs to him at present.

It is a point that, no doubt, should be settled."

"To whom do you say that it belongs?"

"That is a question I am not prepared to answer."

"To whom do you think that it belongs?"

"I have refused to look at a single paper on the subject, and my opinion is worth nothing. From what I have heard in conversation with Mr. Camperdown and John Eustace, I cannot find that they make their case good."

"Nor can I," said Lizzie.

"A case is to be prepared for Mr. Dove."

"Who is Mr. Dove?"

"Mr. Dove is a barrister, and no doubt a very clever fellow. If his opinion be such as Mr. Camperdown expects, he will at once proceed against you at law for the immediate recovery of the necklace."

"I shall be ready for him," said Lizzie, and as she spoke all her little feminine softnesses were for the moment laid aside.

"If Mr. Dove's opinion be in your favour--"

"Well," said Lizzie,--"what then?"

"In that case Mr. Camperdown, acting on behalf of John Eustace and young Florian--"

"How dreadful it is to hear of my bitterest enemy acting on behalf of my own child!" said Lizzie, holding up her hands piteously. "Well?"

"In that case Mr. Camperdown will serve you with some notice that the jewels are not yours,--to part with them as you may please."

"But they will be mine."

"He says not;--but in such case he will content himself with taking steps which may prevent you from selling them."

"Who says that I want to sell them?" demanded Lizzie indignantly.

"Or from giving them away,--say to a second husband."

"How little they know me!"

"Now I have told you all about Mr. Camperdown."

"Yes."