"He'll say anything," said Lizzie.
"My dearest girl, there can't be a more respectable man than Mr. Camperdown. You must do something of the kind, you know."
"I sha'n't do anything of the kind," said Lizzie. "Sir Florian Eustace gave them to me, and I shall keep them." She did not look at her lover as she spoke; but he looked at her, and did not like the change which he saw on her countenance. And he did not like the circumstances in which he found himself placed. "Why should Mr. Camperdown interfere?" continued Lizzie. "If they don't belong to me, they belong to my son;—and who has so good a right to keep them for him as I have? But they belong to me."
"They should not be kept in a private house like this at all, if they are worth all that money."
"If I were to let them go, Mr. Camperdown would get them. There's nothing he wouldn't do to get them. Oh, Frederic, I hope you'll stand to me, and not see me injured. Of course I only want them for my darling child."
Frederic's face had become very long, and he was much disturbed in his mind. He could only suggest that he himself would go and see Mr. Camperdown, and ascertain what ought to be done. To the last, he adhered to his assurance that Mr. Camperdown could do no evil;—till Lizzie, in her wrath, asked him whether he believed Mr. Camperdown's word before hers. "I think he would understand a matter of business better than you," said the prudent lover.
"He wants to rob me," said Lizzie, "and I shall look to you to prevent it."
When Lord Fawn took his leave,—which he did not do till he had counselled her again and again to leave the matter in Mr. Camperdown's hands,—the two were not in good accord together. It was his fixed purpose, as he declared to her, to see Mr. Camperdown; and it was her fixed purpose,—so, at least, she declared to him,—to keep the diamonds, in spite of Mr. Camperdown. "But, my dear, if it's decided against you—" said Lord Fawn gravely.
"It can't be decided against me, if you stand by me as you ought to do."
"I can do nothing," said Lord Fawn, in a tremor. Then Lizzie looked at him,—and her look, which was very eloquent, called him a poltroon as plain as a look could speak. Then they parted, and the signs of affection between them were not satisfactory.