“Mrs Lupex, I’m not expecting to get married,—­not particularly, by any means.”

“Oh, I thought you were.  And let me tell you, that when you’ve got a husband of your own, you won’t find it so easy to keep everything straight.  That’s the worst of these lodgings; if there is any little thing, everybody knows it.  Don’t they, Miss Spruce?”

“Lodgings is so much more comfortable than housekeeping,” said Miss Spruce, who lived rather in fear of her relatives, the Ropers.

“Everybody knows it; does he?” said Amelia.  “Why, if a gentleman will come home at night tipsy and threaten to murder another gentleman in the same house; and if a lady—­” And then Amelia paused, for she knew that the line-of-battle ship which she was preparing to encounter had within her much power of fighting.

“Well, miss,” said Mrs Lupex, getting on her feet, “and what of the lady?”

Now we may say that the battle had begun, and that the two ships were pledged by the general laws of courage and naval warfare to maintain the contest till one of them should be absolutely disabled, if not blown up or sunk.  And at this moment it might be difficult for a bystander to say with which of the combatants rested the better chance of permanent success.  Mrs Lupex had doubtless on her side more matured power, a habit of fighting which had given her infinite skill, a courage which deadened her to the feeling of all wounds while the heat of the battle should last, and a recklessness which made her almost indifferent whether she sank or swam.  But then Amelia carried the greater guns, and was able to pour in heavier metal than her enemy could use; and she, too, swam in her own waters.  Should they absolutely come to grappling and boarding, Amelia would no doubt have the best of it; but Mrs Lupex would probably be too crafty to permit such a proceeding as that.  She was, however, ready for the occasion, and greedy for the fight.

“And what of the lady?” said she, in a tone of voice that admitted of no pacific rejoinder.

“A lady, if she is a lady,” said Amelia, “will know how to behave herself.”

“And you’re going to teach me, are you, Miss Roper?  I’m sure I’m ever so much obliged to you.  It’s Manchester manners, I suppose, that you prefer?”

“I prefer honest manners, Mrs Lupex, and decent manners, and manners that won’t shock a whole house full of people; and I don’t care whether they come from Manchester or London.”

“Milliner’s manners, I suppose?”

“I don’t care whether they are milliner’s manners or theatrical, Mrs Lupex, as long as they’re not downright bad manners—­as yours are, Mrs Lupex.  And now you’ve got it.  What are you going on for in this way with that young man, till you’ll drive your husband into a madhouse with drink and jealousy?”

“Miss Roper!  Miss Roper!” said Cradell; “now really—­”

“Don’t mind her, Mr Cradell,” said Mrs Lupex; “she’s not worthy for you to speak to.  And as to that poor fellow Eames, if you’ve any friendship for him, you’ll let him know what she is.  My dear, how’s Mr Juniper, of Grogram’s house, at Salford?  I know all about you, and so shall John Eames, too—­poor unfortunate fool of a fellow!  Telling me of drink and jealousy, indeed!”