'
There was a little pause, and Gertrude looked with a pale gaze upon her
aunt.
'Are you,' said Aunt Becky--'do you, Gertrude--do you like Lieutenant
Puddock?'
'Lieutenant Puddock!' repeated the girl, with the look and gesture of a
person in whose ear something strange has buzzed.
'Because, if you really are in love with him, Gertie; and that he likes
you; and that, in short--' Aunt Becky was speaking very rapidly, but
stopped suddenly.
'In love with Lieutenant Puddock!' was all that Miss Gertrude said.
'Now, do tell me, Gertrude, if it be so--tell _me_, dear love. I know
'tis a hard thing to say,' and Aunt Becky considerately began to fiddle
with the ribbon at the back of her niece's nightcap, so that she need
not look in her face; 'but, Gertie, tell me truly, do you like him;
and--and--why, if it be so, I will mention Mr. Dangerfield's suit no
more. There now--there's all I want to say.'
'Lieutenant Puddock!' repeated young Madam in the nightcap; and by this
time the film of slumber was gone; and the suspicion struck her somehow
in altogether so comical a way that she could not help laughing in her
aunt's sad, earnest face.
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