Lady Isabel, as they approached, turned from a mirror, at which she was trying on a diamond crescent. Her face clouded at the sight of Count O’Halloran and Lord Colambre, and grew dark as hatred when she saw Sir James Brooke. She walked away to the farther end of the shop, and asked one of the shopmen the price of a diamond necklace, which lay upon the counter.
The man said he really did not know; it belonged to Lady Oranmore; it had just been new set for one of her ladyship’s daughters, “who is going to be married to Sir James Brooke—one of the gentlemen, my lady, who are just come in.”
Then, calling to his master, he asked him the price of the necklace: he named the value, which was considerable.
“I really thought Lady Oranmore and her daughters were vastly too philosophical to think of diamonds,” said Lady Isabel to her mother, with a sort of sentimental sneer in her voice and countenance. “But it is some comfort to me to find, in these pattern-women, philosophy and love do not so wholly engross the heart, that they
“‘Feel every vanity in fondness lost.’”
“‘Twould be difficult, in some cases,” thought many present.
“‘Pon honour, di’monds are cursed expensive things, I know!” said Heathcock. “But, be that as it may,” whispered he to the lady, though loud enough to be heard by others, “I’ve laid a damned round wager, that no woman’s diamonds married this winter, under a countess, in Lon’on, shall eclipse Lady Isabel Heathcock’s! and Mr. Rundell here’s to be judge.”
Lady Isabel paid for this promise one of her sweetest smiles; one of those smiles which she had formerly bestowed upon Lord Colambre, and which he had once fancied expressed so much sensibility—such discriminative and delicate penetration.
Our hero felt so much contempt, that he never wasted another sigh of pity for her degradation. Lady Dashfort came up to him as he was standing alone; and, whilst the count and Sir James were settling about the diamonds, “My Lord Colambre,” said she, in a low voice, “I know your thoughts, and I could moralize as well as you, if I did not prefer laughing—you are right enough; and so am I, and so is Isabel; we are all right. For look here: women have not always the liberty of choice, and therefore they can’t be expected to have always the power of refusal.”
The mother, satisfied with her convenient optimism, got into her carriage with her daughter, her daughter’s diamonds, and her precious son-in-law, her daughter’s companion for life.