“I don’t doubt she’ll be a very good wife.”

“You see, Mr Eames, it’s all over now, and we understand each other; don’t we?  It made me very unhappy when she was setting her cap at you; it did indeed.  She is my own daughter, and I couldn’t go against her;—­could I?  But I knew it wasn’t in any way suiting.  Laws, I know the difference.  She’s good enough for him any day of the week, Mr Eames.”

“That she is,—­Saturdays or Sundays,” said Johnny, not knowing exactly what he ought to say.

“So she is; and if he does his duty by her she won’t go astray in hers by him.  And as for you, Mr Eames, I am sure I’ve always felt it an honour and a pleasure to have you in the house; and if ever you could use a good word in sending to me any of your young men, I’d do by them as a mother should; I would indeed.  I know I’ve been to blame about those Lupexes, but haven’t I suffered for it, Mr Eames?  And it was difficult to know at first; wasn’t it?  And as to you and Amelia, if you would send any of your young men to try, there couldn’t be anything more of that kind, could there?  I know it hasn’t all been just as it should have been—­that is as regards you; but I should like to hear you say that you’ve found me honest before you went.  I have tried to be honest, I have indeed.”

Eames assured her that he was convinced of her honesty, and that he had never thought of impugning her character either in regard to those unfortunate people, the Lupexes, or in reference to other matters.  “He did not think,” he said, “that any young men would consult him as to their lodgings; but if he could be of any service to her, he would.”  Then he bade her good-bye, and having bestowed half-a-sovereign on the faithful Jemima, he took a long farewell of Burton Crescent.  Amelia had told him not to come and see her when she should be married, and he had resolved that he would take her at her word.  So he walked off from the Crescent, not exactly shaking the dust from his feet, but resolving that he would know no more either of its dust or of its dirt.  Dirt enough he had encountered there certainly, and he was now old enough to feel that the inmates of Mrs Roper’s house had not been those among whom a resting-place for his early years should judiciously have been sought.  But he had come out of the fire comparatively unharmed, and I regret to say that he felt but little for the terrible scorchings to which his friend had been subjected and was about to subject himself.  He was quite content to look at the matter exactly as it was looked at by Mrs Roper.  Amelia was good enough for Joseph Cradell—­any day of the week.  Poor Cradell, of whom in these pages after this notice no more will be heard!  I cannot but think that a hard measure of justice was meted out to him, in proportion to the extent of his sins.  More weak and foolish than our friend and hero he had been, but not to my knowledge more wicked.  But it is to the vain and foolish that the punishments