Daisy's Necklace, and What Came of It

In Short

This curious volume functions as a "literary episode," intertwining a melodramatic plot of stolen inheritances and long-hidden secrets with the meta-fictional musings of an author crafting his own novel. At its heart, it follows a young man named Mortimer Walters, his beloved Daisy Snarle, and the shadow cast by a mysterious, cursed necklace. Balancing Victorian tropes—grave illness, tragic partings, and cruel merchants—with a humorous, light-hearted defense of the author’s craft, the work offers a rare, reflexive window into the mid-19th-century literary imagination and the friction between high art and commercial hype.

The Story

The narrative begins with a dreamlike atmosphere centered on two children, Mortimer and Bell, who build "castles" by the sea. This early idyll is shattered by the inexorable passage of time, illness, and the eventual death of Bell, who passes away with a poetic resignation that haunts the survivors. As the scene shifts to the city, the tone darkens into a tale of urban misery and greed. Mortimer finds himself working for the cold-hearted merchant Flint, a man whose only god is gold.

Mortimer harbors a secret: he possesses a record of a past crime committed by his associate, Harvey Snarle. Burdened by this knowledge and the need to protect his love, Daisy Snarle, Mortimer navigates a world of deceit. He is eventually accused of theft in connection to a valuable string of pearls—the necklace of the title—which Daisy discovers and keeps, unknowingly tethered to her own forgotten history.

As Mortimer struggles to clear his name and escape the suffocating influence of his employer, he encounters a mysterious stranger, Edward Walters. This man, revealed to be connected to the past, forces a confrontation that exposes Flint’s machinations. The plot spirals through a storm-tossed sea voyage, a tense legal reckoning, and finally, a resolution where the truth of the necklace is unveiled. It is revealed to be a family heirloom, linking the characters back to the tragedy of the past. Daisy, initially a pawn in a game of secrets, emerges as the bridge between these fractured lives.

Throughout this central plot, the narrator interrupts to discuss the "art" of his own writing, often debating with an imaginary friend, Barry. He mocks the absurdity of the "popular" literature of his day—tales of "murdered milkmaids" and "frantic fathers"—while defending his own choice to write about "common people" rather than aristocratic stereotypes. The book concludes with the narrator successfully finishing his manuscript, only to imagine the ridiculous, hyperbolic marketing campaigns his publishers might use to sell it, effectively lampooning the very literary machine he is part of.

How It Unfolds

The childhood idyll The story opens in a coastal setting where Mortimer and the ethereal Bell live in a world of dream-castles and poetic imagination. This innocence is abruptly ended by the encroaching reality of sickness and the finality of the grave.

The shift to the city The narrative moves to a dreary urban landscape dominated by the counting-house of Flint & Snarle. Here, the characters are defined by their professional struggles and the stifling atmosphere of cold, monetary ambition.

The burden of secrets Mortimer carries the weight of a past crime while trying to protect Daisy from the truth of her own family history. The tension rises as he attempts to break free from his employer’s control while holding the evidence of a moral failing.

The catalyst of the necklace Daisy finds the pearls, which serve as a physical manifestation of her past and a source of conflict. Her act of wearing them, despite the danger, ties her identity to the mystery Mortimer is trying to solve.

The confrontation The arrival of Edward Walters and the eventual legal showdown dismantle Flint’s power. Secrets are brought into the light, and the truth of the lineage behind the necklace is finally established.

The meta-narrative resolution The author steps back to discuss the completion of his work with his skeptical critic, Barry. He concludes by satirizing the commercialization of books, imagining a future where marketing hype outweighs the substance of the story.

The People

Mortimer Walters is the central figure, a young man of literary aspirations trapped in the drudgery of a clerk’s life. He is motivated by love for Daisy and a sense of duty to the dying Harvey Snarle. He matures from a guarded, fearful subordinate into a man capable of standing up to the oppressive Flint.

Daisy Snarle is the heroine, described as fragile and spiritual. Though she begins as a somewhat passive figure of beauty and innocence, she gains agency through her unwavering belief in Mortimer’s goodness. Her discovery of the necklace forces her to confront her own buried past.

Mr. Flint is the primary antagonist, an archetypal merchant whose soul is entirely consumed by the acquisition of wealth. He is defined by his "small, piercing black eyes" and his performative piety. He serves as the obstacle to both Mortimer’s career and his personal happiness.

Edward Walters is the mysterious force who arrives to act as the catalyst for truth. His presence—and his haunting of the city’s margins—links the earlier tragedy of Bell to the current mystery, serving as a restorative, if somewhat melancholy, figure.

In Its Own Voice

The narrator reflects on the nature of the creative process and the physical environment that fosters his daydreams:

"Blessings on him who invented fire-places! A poor day-dreamer's benediction go with him! The world in the grate! I have watched its fantastic palaces and crimson inhabitants--dipped my pen, as it were, into its stained rivers, and written their grotesqueness!"

The doomed character of Bell finds solace in the poetry of Alfred Tennyson, foreshadowing her own departure:

"For lying broad awake I thought of you and Effie dear; I saw you sitting in the house, and I no longer here; With all my strength I prayed for both, and so I felt resigned, And up the valley came a swell of music on the wind."

What It's Really About

The book explores the conflict between the ideal and the material. It pits the "sunshine" of memory, poetry, and love against the "hard and cold" reality of gold and industry. There is a persistent argument here that the imagination—symbolized by the act of writing—is a necessary refuge from a world that values only ledger books and profit. The necklace acts as an emblem of this struggle; it is a precious thing that carries the weight of the past, representing both the beauty of human connection and the pain of lost histories. Ultimately, it asks whether a person can remain "pure" in a society that measures worth in currency, favoring those who, like the author, prefer the "fantastic palaces" of the mind.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate a blend of Victorian sentimentality and the dry, self-deprecating wit of early satire will find this a fascinating, if occasionally uneven, read. It feels like a precursor to modern literary fiction, where the author is not merely a narrator but a participant in a conversation about the work’s own validity. The prose shifts between high-flown, flowery descriptions of the sea and sharp, cynical observations about publishing, creating a jarring but intentional contrast.

The book is not without its difficulties. A modern reader may find the reliance on "angelic" child archetypes and the high-pitched emotional tone of the tragedy to be a product of its time. Additionally, the plot moves through abrupt shifts that reflect its serialized, "episodic" nature. However, those interested in the history of the novel will find the meta-fictional chapters—where the author debates his critics and mocks the "Great Publishers" of the 1850s—surprisingly fresh. It is a book about the struggle to write in a world that prefers cheap, sensational thrills over honest storytelling. If you can embrace the melodrama for what it is—a "burlesque of things in general"—you will find a warm, intelligent voice behind the story that lingers long after the final page is turned.