Camperdown's letters, you know. That alone will
condemn you. After that there isn't a word to be said about it--not a
word. Mr. Camperdown is the family lawyer, and when he writes to you
letter after letter you take no more notice of him than a--dog." The old
woman was certainly very powerful. The way in which she pronounced that
last word did make Lady Eustace ashamed of herself. "Why didn't you answer
his letters, unless you knew you were in the wrong? Of course you knew you
were in the wrong."
"No, I didn't. A woman isn't obliged to answer everything that is written
to her."
"Very well! You just say that before the Judge! for you'll have to go
before a judge. I tell you, Lizzie Greystock, or Eustace, or whatever your
name is, it's downright picking and stealing. I suppose you want to sell
them."
"I won't stand this, Aunt Penelope," said Lizzie, rising from her seat.
"You must stand it, and you'll have to stand worse than that. You don't
suppose Mr. Camperdown got me to come here for nothing. If you don't want
to be made out to be a thief before all the world----"
"I won't stand it," shrieked Lizzie. "You have no business to come here
and say such things to me.
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