It was now Miss Gertrude’s turn to be nettled,
and to remind her visitor, by a sudden flush in her
cheek and a flash from her eyes, that she was, indeed,
a Chattesworth; and with more disdain than, perhaps,
was quite called for, she repelled the soft suspicion.
‘I protest, Madam,’ said Miss Gertrude,
’’tis too bad. Truly, Madam,
it is vastly vexatious to have to answer so
strange and affronting a question. If you ever
took the trouble, aunt, to listen to, or look at,
Lieutenant Puddock, you might—’
‘Well, niece,’ quoth Aunt Becky, interrupting,
with a little toss of her head, ’young ladies
weren’t quite so hard to please in my time, and
I can’t see or hear that he’s so much
worse than others.’
‘I’d sooner die than have him,’
said Miss Gertie, peremptorily.
’Then, I suppose, if ever, and whenever he asks
you the question himself, you’ll have no hesitation
in telling him so?’ said Aunt Becky, with becoming
solemnity.
’Laughable, ridiculous, comical, and absurd,
as I always thought and believed Lieutenant Puddock
to be, I yet believe the asking such a question of
me to be a stretch of absurdity, from which his breeding,
for he is a gentleman, will restrain him. Besides,
Madam, you can’t possibly be aware of the subjects
on which he has invariably discoursed whenever he
happened to sit by me—plays and players,
and candied fruit. Really, Madam, it is too absurd
to have to enter upon one’s defence against
so incredible an imagination.’
Aunt Rebecca looked steadily for a few seconds in
her niece’s face, then drew a long breath, and
leaning over, kissed her again on the forehead, and
with a grave little nod, and looking on her again for
a short space, without saying a word more, she turned
suddenly and left the room.
Miss Gertrude’s vexation again gave way to merriment;
and her aunt, as she walked sad and stately up stairs,
heard one peal of merry laughter after another ring
through her niece’s bed-room. She had not
laughed so much for three years before; and this short
visit cost her, I am sure, two hours’ good sleep
at least.
RELATING SOME AWFUL NEWS THAT REACHED THE VILLAGE,
AND HOW DR. WALSINGHAM VISITED CAPTAIN RICHARD DEVEREUX
AT HIS LODGINGS.
And now there was news all over the town, to keep
all the tongues there in motion.
News—news—great news!—terrible
news! Peter Fogarty, Mr. Tresham’s boy,
had it that morning from his cousin, Jim Redmond, whose
aunt lived at Ringsend, and kept the little shop over
against the ’Plume of Feathers,’ where
you might have your pick and choice of all sorts of
nice and useful things—bacon, brass snuff-boxes,
penny ballads, eggs, candles, cheese, tobacco-pipes,
pinchbeck buckles for knee and instep, soap, sausages,
and who knows what beside.
