The Diamond Necklace

“He’s a very agreeable, peaceable-behaved young gentleman,” said Mrs. Peepandpry, rubbing her hands with the motion peculiar to stout, middle-aged boarding-house keepers. “Not a bit particular as to what he eats, and as regular with his week’s board as the Wednesday afternoon comes around.”

“But who is he?” said Mr. Majilton, who, having no special business of his own, was so good as to identify himself with that of his neighbors, and formed, in his sole individuality, the star chamber and the judge, jury and executioner of the vicinity, speaking from a social standpoint. “That’s the question, ma’am—who is he? Regular payments and agreeable manners are a good deal, I’m willing to allow; but what are his conventional indorsements?”

Mrs. Peepandpry looked puzzled.

“I am told,” resumed Mr. Majilton, “Mr. Eugene Aram had the polished mein of a gentleman.”

“I’m not acquainted with the person of whom you speak, sir!” said Mrs. Peepandpry. “I’ve had many a boarder in my time, but never anybody by that name.”

Mr. Majilton rubbed his nose in some irritation.

“Never mind,” said he, “never mind. Details are of no importance. It’s the general principle that we must look to.”

“Certainly, sir,” said Mrs. Peepandpry, more bewildered than ever.

“And you tell me you haven’t any idea of Mr. Guymard’s profession?”

Mrs. Peepandpry shook her head.

“What references did he bring?” pursued the querist.

“Well, sir, now you remind me of it, said the honest woman, “he didn’t mention no especial references. He merely said he would probably want the rooms all summer, and would pay in advance, and he gave me a month’s rent on the spot.”

“This looks very bad,” said Mr. Majilton—“very bad, indeed. For all you know, Mrs. Peepandpry, you may be harboring a political spy, a forger,… Read More