It took Lord Fawn a long time to write his letter, but at last he wrote it. The delay must not be taken as throwing any slur on his character as a correspondent or a man of business, for many irritating causes sprang up sufficient to justify him in pleading that it arose from circumstances beyond his own control. It is moreover felt by us all that the time which may fairly be taken in the performance of any task depends, not on the amount of work, but on the importance of it when done. A man is not expected to write a check for a couple of thousand pounds as readily as he would one for five, unless he be a man to whom a couple of thousand pounds is a mere nothing. To Lord Fawn the writing of this letter was everything. He had told Lizzie, with much exactness, what he would put into it. He would again offer his hand — acknowledging himself bound to do so by his former offer — but would give reasons why she should not accept it. If anything should occur in the mean time which would in his opinion justify him in again repudiating her, he would of course take advantage of such circumstance. If asked, himself, what was his prevailing motive in all that he did or intended to do, he would have declared that it was above all things necessary that he should “put himself right in the eye of the British public.”
But he was not able to do this without interference from the judgment of others. Both Mr. and Mrs. Hittaway interfered; and he could not prevent himself from listening to them and believing them, though he would contradict all they said, and snub all their theories. Frank Greystock also continued to interfere, and Lady Glencora Palliser. Even John Eustace had been worked upon to write to Lord Fawn, stating his opinion as trustee for his late brother’s property, that the Eustace family did not think that there was ground of complaint against Lady Eustace in reference to the diamonds which had been stolen. This was a terrible blow to Lord Fawn, and had come no doubt from a general agreement among the Eustace faction — including the bishop, John Eustace, and even Mr. Camperdown — that it would be a good thing to get the widow married and placed under some decent control.
Lady Glencora absolutely had the effrontery to ask him whether the marriage was not going to take place, and when a day would be fixed. He gathered up his courage to give her ladyship a rebuke. “My private affairs do seem to be uncommonly interesting,” he said.
“Why, yes, Lord Fawn,” said Lady Glencora, whom nothing could abash, “most interesting. You see, dear Lady Eustace is so very popular that we all want to know what is to be her fate.”
“I regret to say that I cannot answer your ladyship’s question with any precision,” said Lord Fawn.
But the Hittaway persecution was by far the worst. “You have seen her, Frederic,” said his sister.
“Yes, I have.”
“You have made her no promise?”
“My dear Clara, this is a matter in which I must use my own judgment.”
“But the family, Frederic?”
“I do not think that any member of our family has a just right to complain of my conduct since I have had the honour of being its head. I have endeavoured so to live that my actions should encounter no private or public censure. If I fail to meet with your approbation, I shall grieve; but I cannot on that account act otherwise than in accordance with my own judgment.”
Mrs. Hittaway knew her brother well, and was not afraid of him. “That’s all very well; and I am sure you know, Frederic, how proud we all are of you. But this woman is a nasty, low, scheming, ill-conducted, dishonest little wretch; and if you make her your wife you’ll be miserable all your life. Nothing would make me and Orlando so unhappy as to quarrel with you. But we know that it is so, and to the last minute I shall say so. Why don’t you ask her to her face about that man down in Scotland?”
“My dear Clara, perhaps I know what to ask her and what not to ask her better than you can tell me.”
And his brother-inlaw was quite as bad. “Fawn,” he said, “in this matter of Lady Eustace, don’t you think you ought to put your conduct into the hands of some friend?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I think it is an affair in which a man would have so much comfort in being able to say that he was guided by advice. Of course her people want you to marry her. Now if you could just tell them that the whole thing was in the hands of — say me, or any other friend, you would be relieved, you know, of so much responsibility. They might hammer away at me ever so long and I shouldn’t care twopence.”
“If there is to be any hammering, it cannot be borne vicariously,” said Lord Fawn, and as he said it he was quite pleased by his own sharpness and wit.
He had indeed put himself beyond protection by vicarious endurance of hammering when he promised to write to Lady Eustace, explaining his own conduct and giving reasons. Had anything turned up in Scotland Yard which would have justified him in saying, or even in thinking, that Lizzie had stolen her own diamonds, he would have sent word to her that he must abstain from any communication till that matter had been cleared up; but since the appearance of that mysterious paragraph in the newspapers nothing had been heard of the robbery, and public opinion certainly seemed to be in favour of Lizzie’s innocence. He did think that the Eustace faction was betraying him, as he could not but remember how eager Mr. Camperdown had been in asserting that the widow was keeping an enormous amount of property and claiming it as her own, whereas in truth she had not the slightest title to it. It was, in a great measure, in consequence of the assertions of the Eustace faction, almost in obedience to their advice, that he had resolved to break off the match; and now they turned upon him, and John Eustace absolutely went out of his way to write him a letter which was clearly meant to imply that he, Lord Fawn, was bound to marry the woman to whom he had once engaged himself! Lord Fawn felt that he was ill-used, and that a man might have to undergo a great deal of bad treatment who should strive to put himself right in the eye of the public.
At last he wrote his letter — on a Wednesday, which with him had something of the comfort of a half-holiday, as on that day he was not required to attend Parliament.
“INDIA OFFICE, March 28, 18 —.
“MY DEAR LADY EUSTACE: In accordance with the promise which I made to you when I did myself the honour of waiting upon you in Hertford Street, I take up my pen with the view of communicating to you the result of my deliberations respecting the engagement of marriage which no doubt did exist between us last summer.
“Since that time I have no doubt taken upon myself to say that that engagement was over; and I am free to admit that I did so without any assent or agreement on your part to that effect. Such conduct no doubt requires a valid and strong defence. My defence is as follows:
“I learned that you were in possession of a large amount of property, vested in diamonds, which was claimed by the executors under your late husband’s will as belonging to his estate; and as to which they declared, in the most positive manner, that you had no right or title to it whatever. I consulted friends and I consulted lawyers, and I was led to the conviction that this property certainly did not belong to you. Had I married you in these circumstances, I could not but have become a participator in the lawsuit which I was assured would be commenced. I could not be a participator with you, because I believed you to be in the wrong. And I certainly could not participate with those who would in such case be attacking my own wife.
“In this condition of things I requested you — as you must I think yourself own, with all deference and good feeling — to give up the actual possession of the property, and to place the diamonds in neutral hands”— Lord Fawn was often called upon to be neutral in reference to the condition of outlying Indian principalities —“till the law should have decided as to their ownership. As regards myself, I neither coveted nor rejected the possession of that wealth for my future wife. I desired simply to be free from an embarrassment which would have overwhelmed me. You declined my request — not only positively, but perhaps I may add peremptorily; and then I was bound to adhere to the decision I had communicated to you.
“Since that time the property has been stolen and, as I believe, dissipated. The lawsuit against you has been withdrawn; and the bone of contention, so to say, is no longer existing. I am no longer justified in declining to keep my engagement because of the prejudice to which I should have been subjected by your possession of the diamonds; and therefore, as far as that goes, I withdraw my withdrawal.” This Lord Fawn thought was rather a happy phrase, and he read it aloud to himself more than once.
“But now there arises the question whether, in both our interests, this marriage should go on, or whether it may not be more conducive to your hap............