"Oh, I have—I have!" says Mrs. Chichester, clasping her hands in an enthusiastic fashion.
"And he in you, doubtless?"
"Oh, such faith!" with a considerable increase in the enthusiasm.
Miss Gower looks at her over her spectacles. It is an awful look.
"I shall pray for you to-night!" says she, in a piously vindictive tone.
"Oh, thanks! Thanks! How kind of you!" says Mrs. Chichester, with extreme pathos.
There is an explosion on her left. Mrs. Chichester looks mournfully in that direction to see the cause of it. There is only Mr. Gower to be seen! He, as usual, is misconducting himself to quite a remarkable degree. He is now, in fact, laughing so hard but so silently that the tears are running down his cheeks. To laugh out loud with his aunt listening, might mean the loss of seven hundred a year to him.
"What's the matter with you? Aren't you well?" asks Mrs. Chichester, in a loud voice, calculated to draw attention to him.
She feels that here is an opportunity given her to pay off old scores.
"Oh, don't," gasps Gower, frantically struggling still with his laughter. "If she hears you, she'll be down on me like a shot. As you are strong, be merciful!"