'Then pay your bill, and walk out of it,' said Amelia, waving her hand towards the door. 'I'll undertake to say there shan't be any notice required. Only you pay mother what you owe, and you're free to go at once.'
'I shall go just when I please, and not one hour before. Who are you, you gipsy, to speak to me in this way?'
'And as for going, go you shall, if we have to call in the police to make you.'
Amelia, as at this period of the fight she stood fronting her foe with her arms akimbo, certainly seemed to have the best of the battle. But the bitterness of Mrs Lupex's tongue had hardly yet produced its greatest results. I am inclined to think that the married lady would have silenced her who was single, had the fight been allowed to rage,—always presuming that no resort to grappling-irons took place. But at this moment Mrs Roper entered the room, accompanied by her son, and both the combatants for a moment retreated.
'Amelia, what's all this?' said Mrs Roper, trying to assume a look of agonised amazement.
'Ask Mrs Lupex,' said Amelia.
'And Mrs Lupex will answer,' said that lady. 'Your daughter has come in here, and attacked me—in such language—before Mr Cradell too—'
'Why doesn't she pay what she owes, and leave the house?' said Amelia.
'Hold your tongue,' said her brother. 'What she owes is no affair of yours.'
'But it's an affair of mine, when I'm insulted by such a creature as that.'
'Creature!' said Mrs Lupex. 'I'd like to know which is most like a creature! But I'll tell you what it is, Amelia Roper—' Here, however, her eloquence was stopped, for Amelia had disappeared through the door, having been pushed out of the room by her brother. Whereupon Mrs Lupex, having found a sofa convenient for the service, betook herself to hysterics. There for the moment we will leave her, hoping that poor Mrs Roper was not kept late out of her bed.
'What a deuce of a mess Eames will make of it if he marries that girl!' Such was Cradell's reflection as he betook himself to his own room. But of his own part in the night's transactions he was rather proud than otherwise, feeling that the married lady's regard for him had been the cause of the battle which had raged. So, likewise, did Paris derive much gratification from the ten years' siege of Troy.
XII. Lilian Dale Becomes a Butterfly
And now we will go back to Allington. The same morning that brought to John Eames the two letters which were given in the last chapter but one, brought to the Great House, among others, the following epistle for Adolphus Crosbie. It was from a countess, and was written on pink paper, beautifully creamlaid and scented, ornamented with a coronet and certain singularly-entwined initials. Altogether, the letter was very fashionable and attractive, and Adolphus Crosbie was by no means sorry to receive it.
Courcy Castle, September 186––.
My dear Mr Crosbie,
We have heard of you from the Gazebees, who have come down to us, and who tell us that you are rusticating at a charming little village, in which, among other attractions, there are wood nymphs and water nymphs, to whom much of your time is devoted. As this is just the thing for your taste, I would not for worlds disturb you; but if you should ever tear yourself away from the groves and fountains of Allington, we shall be delighted to welcome you here, though you will find us very unromantic after your late Elysium.
Lady Dumbello is coming to us, who I know is a favourite of yours. Or is it the other way, and are you a favourite of hers? I did ask Lady Hartletop, but she cannot get away from the poor marquis, who is, you know, so very infirm. The duke isn't at Gatherum at present, but, of course, I don't mean that that has anything to do with dear Lady Hartletop coming to us. I believe we shall have the house full, and shall not want for nymphs either, though I fear they will not be of the wood and water kind. Margaretta and Alexandrina particularly want you to come, as they say you are so clever at making a houseful of people go off well. If you can give us a week before you go back to manage the affairs of the nation, pray do.
Yours very sincerely,
Rosina de Courcy.
The Countess de Courcy was a very old friend of Mr Crosbie's; that is to say, as old friends go in the world in which he had been living. He had known her for the last six or seven years, and had been in the habit of going to all her London balls, and dancing with her daughters everywhere, in a most good-natured and affable way. He had
