“Of course I know nothing about it,” said the lady to whom the appeal was thus made.  “But a young gentleman should keep himself to himself till the time comes for him to speak out,—­begging your pardon all the same, Mr Cradell.”

“I don’t see what a married woman should want with any one after her but her own husband,” said Amelia.

“And perhaps not always that,” said John Eames.

It was about an hour after this when the front-door bell was rung, and a scream from Jemima announced to them all that some critical moment had arrived.  Amelia, jumping up, opened the door, and then the rustle of a woman’s dress was heard on the lower stairs.  “Oh, laws, ma’am, you have given us sich a turn,” said Jemima.  “We all thought you was run away.”

“It’s Mrs Lupex,” said Amelia.  And in two minutes more that ill-used lady was in the room.

“Well, my dears,” said she, gaily, “I hope nobody has waited dinner.”

“No; we didn’t wait dinner,” said Mrs Roper, very gravely.

“And where’s my Orson?  Didn’t he dine at home?  Mr Cradell, will you oblige me by taking my shawl?  But perhaps you had better not.  People are so censorious; ain’t they, Miss Spruce?  Mr Eames shall do it; and everybody knows that that will be quite safe.  Won’t it, Miss Amelia?”

“Quite, I should think,” said Amelia.  And Mrs Lupex knew that she was not to look for an ally in that quarter on the present occasion.  Eames got up to take the shawl, and Mrs Lupex went on.

“And didn’t Orson dine at home?  Perhaps they kept him down at the theatre.  But I’ve been thinking all day what fun it would be when he thought his bird was flown.”

“He did dine at home,” said Mrs Roper; “and he didn’t seem to like it.  There wasn’t much fun, I can assure you.”

“Ah, wasn’t there, though?  I believe that man would like to have me tied to his button-hole.  I came across a few friends,—­lady friends, Mr Cradell, though two of them had their husbands; so we made a party, and just went down to Hampton Court.  So my gentleman has gone again, has he?  That’s what I get for gadding about myself, isn’t it, Miss Spruce?”

Mrs Roper, as she went to bed that night, made up her mind that, whatever might be the cost and trouble of doing so, she would lose no further time in getting rid of her married guests.

CHAPTER XLII

Lily’s Bedside

Lily Dale’s constitution was good, and her recovery was retarded by no relapse or lingering debility; but, nevertheless, she was forced to keep her bed for many days after the fever had left her.  During all this period Dr Crofts came every day.  It was in vain that Mrs Dale begged him not to do so; telling him in simple words that she felt herself bound not to accept from him all this continuation of his unremunerated labours now that the absolute necessity for them was over.  He answered her only by little jokes, or