“Alfred, you know,” hinted Mrs. Lammle, playfully shaking her head. “You were never to say Mr. Lammle any more, Georgiana.”

“Oh! Alfred, then. I am glad it’s no worse. I was afraid I had said something shocking. I am always saying something wrong to ma.”

“To me, Georgiana dearest?”

“No, not to you; you are not ma. I wish you were.”

Mrs. Lammle bestowed a sweet and loving smile upon her friend, which Miss Podsnap returned as she best could. They sat at lunch in Mrs. Lammle’s own boudoir.

“And so, dearest Georgiana, Alfred is like your notion of a lover?”