CHAPTER VIII. A WORD OVERHEARD
That evening I had a talk with Fanny over the area gate. She came out when she saw me approach, with her eyes staring and her whole form in a flutter.
“O,” she cried, “such things as I have heard this day!”
“Well,” said I, “what? let me hear too.” She put her hand on her heart. “I never was so frightened,” whispered she, “I thought I should have fainted right away. To hear that elegant lady use such a word as crime,—”
“What elegant lady?” interrupted I. “Don’t begin in the middle of your story, that’s a good girl; I want to hear it all.”
“Well,” said she, calming down a little, “Mrs. Daniels had a visitor to-day, a lady. She was dressed—”
“O, now,” interrupted I for the second time, “you can leave that out. Tell me what her name was and let the fol-de-rols go.”
“Her name?” exclaimed the girl with some sharpness, “how should I know her name; she did’nt come to see me.”
“How did she look then? You saw her I suppose?”
“And was’nt that what I was telling you, when you stopped me. She looked like a queen, that she did; as grand a lady as ever I see, in her velvet dress sweeping over the floor, and her diamonds as big as—”