t her household was composed of herself, of a son who was in an
attorney's office, of an ancient maiden cousin, named Miss Spruce,
who lodged with her, and of Mr Cradell. The divine Amelia had not
then been living with her, and the nature of the statement which she
was making by no means compelled her to inform Mrs Eames that the
young lady would probably return home in the following winter. A Mr
and Mrs Lupex had also joined the family lately, and Mrs Roper's
house was now supposed to be full.

And it must be acknowledged that Johnny Eames had, in certain
unguarded moments, confided to Cradell the secret of a second weaker
passion for Amelia. "She is a fine girl,--a deuced fine girl!" Johnny
Eames had said, using a style of language which he had learned since
he left Guestwick and Allington. Mr Cradell, also, was an admirer
of the fair sex; and, alas! that I should say so, Mrs Lupex, at
the present moment, was the object of his admiration. Not that he
entertained the slightest idea of wronging Mr Lupex,--a man who was a
scene-painter, and knew the world. Mr Cradell admired Mrs Lupex as a
connoisseur, not simply as a man. "By heavens! Johnny, what a figure
that woman has!" he said, one morning, as they were walking to their
office.

"Yes; she stands well on her pins."

"I should think she did. If I understand anything of form," said
Cradell, "that woman is nearly perfect. What a torso she has!"

From which expression, and from the fact that Mrs Lupex depended
greatly upon her stays and crinoline for such figure as she succeeded
in displaying, it may, perhaps, be understood that Mr Cradell did not
understand much about form.

"It seems to me that her nose isn't quite straight," said Johnny
Eames. Now, it undoubtedly was the fact that the nose on Mrs Lupex's
face was a little awry. It was a long, thin nose, which, as it
progressed forward into the air, certainly had a preponderating bias
towards the left side.

"I care more for figure than face," said Cradell. "But Mrs Lupex has
fine eyes--very fine eyes."

"And knows how to use them, too," said Johnny.

"Why shouldn't she? And then she has lovely hair."

"Only she never brushes it in the morning."

"Do you know, I like that kind of deshabille," said Cradell. "Too
much care always betrays itself."

"But a woman should be tidy."

"What a word to apply to such a creature as Mrs Lupex! I call her a
splendid woman. And how well she was got up last night. Do yo