But Johnny made no answer to her; contenting himself for the moment with wiping the perspiration from his brow. There was Amelia opposite to him, looking at him,—the very Amelia to whom he had written, declining the honour of marrying her. Of what her mood towards him might be, he could form no judgment from her looks. Her face was simply stern and impassive, and she seemed inclined to eat her dinner in silence. A slight smile of derision had passed across her face as she heard Mrs Lupex whisper, and it might have been discerned that her nose, at the same time, became somewhat elevated; but she said not a word.
"I hope you've enjoyed yourself, Mr Eames, among the vernal beauties of the country," said Mrs Lupex.
"Very much, thank you," he replied.
"There's nothing like the country at this autumnal season of the year. As for myself, I've never been accustomed to remain in London after the breaking up of the beau monde. We've usually been to Broadstairs, which is a very charming place, with most elegant society, but now—" and she shook her head, by which all the company knew that she intended to allude to the sins of Mr Lupex.
"I'd never wish to sleep out of London for my part," said Mrs Roper. "When a woman's got a house over her head, I don't think her mind's ever easy out of it."
She had not intended any reflection on Mrs Lupex for not having a house of her own, but that lady immediately bristled up. "That's just what the snails say, Mrs Roper. And as for having a house of one's own, it's a very good thing, no doubt, sometimes; but that's according to circumstances. It has suited me lately to live in lodgings, but there's no knowing whether I mayn't fall lower than that yet, and have—" but here she stopped herself, and looking over at Mr Cradell nodded her head.
"And have to let them," said Mrs Roper. "I hope you'll be more lucky with your lodgers than I have been with some of mine. Jemima, hand the potatoes to Miss Spruce. Miss Spruce, do let me send you a little more gravy? There's plenty here, really." Mrs Roper was probably thinking of Mr Todgers.
"I hope I shall," said Mrs Lupex. "But, as I was saying, Broadstairs is delightful. Were you ever at Broadstairs, Mr Cradell?"
"Never, Mrs Lupex. I generally go abroad in my leave. One sees more of the world, you know. I was at Dieppe last June, and found that very delightful—though rather lonely. I shall go to Ostend this year; only December is so late for Ostend. It was a deuced shame my getting December, wasn't it, Johnny?"
"Yes, it was," said Eames. "I managed better."
"And what have you been doing, Mr Eames?" said Mrs Lupex, with one of her sweetest smiles. "Whatever it may have been, you've not been false to the cause of beauty, I'm sure." And she looked over to Amelia with a knowing smile. But Amelia was engaged upon her plate, and went on with her dinner without turning her eyes either on Mrs Lupex or on John Eames.
"I haven't done anything particular," said Eames. "I've just been staying with my mother."
"We've been very social here, haven't we, Miss Amelia?" continued Mrs Lupex. "Only now and then a cloud comes across the heavens, and the lights at the banquet are darkened." Then she put her handkerchief up to her eyes, sobbing deeply, and they all knew that she was again alluding to the sins of her husband.
As soon as dinner was over the ladies with young Mr Roper retired, and Eames and Cradell were left to take their wine over the dining-room fire,—or their glass of gin and water, as it might be. "Well, Caudle, old fellow," said one. "Well, Johnny, my boy," said the other. "What's the news at the office?" said Eames.
"Muggeridge has been playing the very mischief." Muggeridge was the second clerk in Cradell's room. "We're going to put him into Coventry and not speak to him except officially. But to tell you the truth, my hands have been so full here at home, that I haven't thought much about the office. What am I to do about that woman?"
"Do about her? How do about her?"
"Yes; what am I to do about her? How am I to manage with her? There's Lupex off again in one of his fits of jealousy."
"But it's not your fault, I suppose?"
"Well; I can't just say. I am fond of her, and that's the long and the short of it; deuced fond of her."
"But, my dear Caudle, you know she's that man's wife."
"Oh, yes, I know all about it. I'm not going to defend myself. It's wrong, I know,—pleasant, but wrong. But what's a fellow to do? I suppose in strict morality I ought to leave the lodgings. But, by George, I don't see why a man's to be turned out in that way. And then I couldn't make a clean score with old mother Roper. But I say, old fellow, who gave you the gold chain?"
"Well; it was an old family friend at Guestwick; or rather, I should say, a man who said he knew my father."
"And he gave you that because he knew your governor! Is there a watch to it?"
"Yes, there's a watch. It wasn't exactly that. There was some trouble about a bull. To tell the truth, it was Lord De Guest; the queerest fellow, Caudle, you ever met in your life; but such a trump. I've got to go and dine with him at Christmas." And then the old story of the bull was told.
"I wish I could find a lord in a field with a bull," said Cradell. We may, however, be permitted to doubt whether Mr Cradell would have earned a watch even if he had had his wish.
"You see," continued Cradell, reverting, to the subject on which he most delighted to talk, "I'm not responsible for that man's ill-conduct."
"Does anybody say you are?"
"No; nobody says so. But people seem to think so. When he is by I hardly speak to her. She is thoughtless and giddy as women are, and takes my arm, and that kind of thing, you know. It makes him mad with rage, but upon my honour I don't think she means any harm."
"I don't suppose she does," said Eames.
"Well; she may or she mayn't. I hope with all my heart she doesn't."
"And where is he now?"
"This is between ourselves, you know; but she went to find him this afternoon. Unless he gives her money she can't stay here, nor, for the matter of that, will she be able to go away. If I mention something to you, you won't tell any one?"
"Of course I won't."
"I wouldn't have it known to any one for the world. I've lent her seven pounds ten. It's that which makes me so short with mother Roper."
"Then I think you're a fool for your pains."
"Ah, that's so like you. I always said you'd no feeling of real romance. If I cared for a woman I'd give her the coat off my back."
"I'd do better than that," said Johnny. "I'd give her the heart out of my body. I'd be chopped up alive for a girl I loved; but it shouldn't be for another man's wife."
"That's a matter of taste. But she's been to Lupex to-day at that house he goes to in Drury Lane. She had a terrible scene there. He was going to commit suicide in the middle of the street, and she declares that it all comes from jealousy. Think what a time I have of it—standing always, as one may say, on gunpowder. He may turn up here any moment, you know. But, upon my word, for the life of me I cannot desert her. If I were to turn my back on her she wouldn't have a friend in the world. And how's L. D.? I'll tell you what it is—you'll have some trouble with the divine Amelia."