“Sounds much better, darling.”
“—Loves you so. He always treats you with such delicate gallantry and attention. Now, don’t he?”
“Truly, my dear,” said Mrs. Lammle, with a rather singular expression crossing her face. “I believe that he loves me, fully as much as I love him.”
“Oh, what happiness!” exclaimed Miss Podsnap.
“But do you know, my Georgiana,” Mrs. Lammle resumed presently, “that there is something suspicious in your enthusiastic sympathy with Alfred’s tenderness?”
“Good gracious no, I hope not!”
“Doesn’t it rather suggest,” said Mrs. Lammle archly, “that my Georgiana’s little heart is—”
“Oh don’t!” Miss Podsnap blushingly besought her. “Please don’t! I assure you, Sophronia, that I only praise Alfred, because he is your husband and so fond of you.”
Sophronia’s glance was as if a rather new light broke in upon her. It shaded off into a cool smile, as she said, with her eyes upon her lunch, and her eyebrows raised:
“You are quite wrong, my love, in your guess at my meaning. What I insinuated was, that my Georgiana’s little heart was growing conscious of a vacancy.”
“No, no, no,” said Georgiana. “I wouldn’t have anybody say anything to me in that way for I don’t know how many thousand pounds.”
“In what way, my Georgiana?” inquired Mrs. Lammle, still smiling coolly with her eyes upon her lunch, and her eyebrows raised.