"Well,—no."
"Tell the truth, Lucy."
"How dare you tell me to tell the truth? Of course I tell the truth. I believe it is something about some property which he wants you to give back to somebody; but I don't know any more."
"Yes, my dear husband, Sir Florian, who understood me,—whom I idolized,—who seemed to have been made for me,—gave me a present. Lord Fawn is pleased to say that he does not approve of my keeping any gift from my late lord. Considering that he intends to live upon the wealth which Sir Florian was generous enough to bestow upon me, this does seem to be strange! Of course, I resented such interference. Would not you have resented it?"
"I don't know," said Lucy, who thought that she could bring herself to comply with any request made to her by Frank Greystock.
"Any woman who had a spark of spirit would resent it, and I have resented it. I have told Lord Fawn that I will, on no account, part with the rich presents which my adored Florian showered upon me in his generosity. It is not for their richness that I keep them, but because they are, for his sake, so inexpressibly dear to me. If Lord Fawn chooses to be jealous of a necklace, he must be jealous." Lucy, who had, in truth, heard but a small fragment of the story,—just so much of it as Lydia had learned from the discreet Amelia, who herself had but a very hazy idea of the facts,—did not quite know how much of the tale, as it was now told to her, might be true and how much false. After a certain fashion she and Lizzie Eustace called themselves friends. But she did not believe her friend to be honest, and was aware that in some matters her friend would condescend—to fib. Lizzie's poetry, and romance, and high feelings, had never had the ring of true soundness in Lucy's ears. But her imagination was not strong enough to soar to the altitude of the lies which Lizzie was now telling. She did believe that the property which Lizzie was called upon to restore was held to be objectionable by Lord Fawn simply because it had reached Lizzie from the hands of her late husband. "What do you think of such conduct as that?" asked Lady Eustace.
"Won't it do if you lock them up instead of wearing them?" asked Lucy.
"I have never dreamed of wearing them."
"I don't understand about such things," said Lucy, determined not to impute any blame to one of the Fawn family.
"It is tyranny, sheer tyranny," continued the other, "and he will find that I am not the woman to yield to it. No. For love I could give up everything;—but nothing from fear. He has told me in so many words that he does not intend to go on with his engagement!"