The Eustace Diamonds | Page 2

there, at the side even of his dying bed. He had no particular
fortune, and yet his daughter, when she was little more than a child,
went about everywhere with jewels on her fingers, and red gems
hanging round her neck, and yellow gems pendent from her ears, and
white gems shining in her black hair. She was hardly nineteen when her
father died and she was taken home by that dreadful old termagant, her
aunt, Lady Linlithgow. Lizzie would have sooner gone to any other
friend or relative, had there been any other friend or relative to take her
possessed of a house in town. Her uncle, Dean Greystock, of
Bobsborough, would have had her--and a more good- natured old soul
than the dean's wife did not exist, and there were three pleasant,
good-tempered girls in the deanery, who had made various little efforts
at friendship with their cousin Lizzie--but Lizzie had higher ideas for
herself than life in the deanery at Bobsborough. She hated Lady
Linlithgow. During her father's lifetime, when she hoped to be able to
settle herself before his death, she was not in the habit of concealing
her hatred for Lady Linlithgow. Lady Linlithgow was not indeed

amiable or easily managed. But when the admiral died, Lizzie did not
hesitate for a moment in going to the old "vulturess," as she was in the
habit of calling the countess in her occasional correspondence with the
girls at Bobsborough.
The admiral died greatly in debt--so much so that it was a marvel how
tradesmen had trusted him. There was literally nothing left for anybody;
and Messrs. Harter & Benjamin of Old Bond Street condescended to
call at Lady Linlithgow's house in Brook Street, and to beg that the
jewels supplied during the last twelve months might be returned. Lizzie
protested that there were no jewels--nothing to signify, nothing worth
restoring. Lady Linlithgow had seen the diamonds, and demanded an
explanation. They had been "parted with," by the admiral's orders--so
said Lizzie--for the payment of other debts. Of this Lady Linlithgow
did not believe a word, but she could not get at any exact truth. At that
moment the jewels were in very truth pawned for money which had
been necessary for Lizzie's needs. Certain things must be paid
for--one's own maid for instance--and one must have some money in
one's pocket for railway-trains and little knick-knacks which cannot be
had on credit. Lizzie when she was nineteen knew how to do without
money as well as most girls; but there were calls which she could not
withstand, debts which even she must pay.
She did not, however, drop her acquaintance with Messrs. Harter &
Benjamin. Before her father had been dead eight months, she was
closeted with Mr. Benjamin, transacting a little business with him. She
had come to him, she told him, the moment she was of age, and was
willing to make herself responsible for the debt, signing any bill, note,
or document which the firm might demand from her to that effect. Of
course she had nothing of her own, and never would have anything.
That Mr. Benjamin knew. As for payment of the debt by Lady
Linlithgow, who for a countess was as poor as Job, Mr. Benjamin, she
was quite sure, did not expect anything of the kind. But----. Then
Lizzie paused, and Mr. Benjamin, with the sweetest and wittiest of
smiles, suggested that perhaps Miss Greystock was going to be married.
Lizzie, with a pretty maiden blush, admitted that such a catastrophe
was probable. She had been asked in marriage by Sir Florian Eustace.

Now Mr. Benjamin knew, as all the world knew, that Sir Florian
Eustace was a very rich man indeed; a man in no degree embarrassed,
and who could pay any amount of jewellers' bills for which claim might
be made upon him. Well, what did Miss Greystock want? Mr.
Benjamin did not suppose that Miss Greystock was actuated simply by
a desire to have her old bills paid by her future husband. Miss
Greystock wanted a loan sufficient to take the jewels out of pawn. She
would then make herself responsible for the full amount due. Mr.
Benjamin said that he would make a few inquiries. "But you won't
betray me," said Lizzie, "for the match might be off." Mr. Benjamin
promised to be more than cautious.
There was not so much of falsehood as might have been expected in the
statement which Lizzie Greystock made to the jeweller. It was not true
that she was of age, and therefore no future husband would be legally
liable for any debt which she might then contract; and it was not true
that Sir Florian Eustace had asked her in marriage. Those two little
blemishes in her statement must be