Amelia Roper was a tall, well-grown young woman, with dark hair and
dark eyes;--not handsome, for her nose was thick, and the lower part
of her face was heavy, but yet not without some feminine attractions.
Her eyes were bright; but then, also, they were mischievous. She
could talk fluently enough; but then, also, she could scold. She
could assume sometimes the plumage of a dove; but then again she
could occasionally ruffle her feathers like an angry kite. I am quite
prepared to acknowledge that John Eames should have kept himself
clear of Amelia Roper; but then young men so frequently do those
things which they should not do!

"After twelve months up here in London one is glad to get away to
one's own friends," said Johnny.

"Your own friends, Mr Eames! What sort of friends? Do you suppose I
don't know?"

"Well, no. I don't think you do know."

"L. D.!" said Amelia, showing that Lily had been spoken of among
people who should never have been allowed to hear her name. But
perhaps, after all, no more than those two initials were known in
Burton Crescent. From the tone which was now used in naming them,
it was sufficiently manifest that Amelia considered herself to be
wronged by their very existence.

"L. S. D.," said Johnny, attempting the line of a witty, gay young
spendthrift. "That's my love--pounds, shillings, and pence; and a
very coy mistress she is."