“She has got a mucous membrane, I’m afraid, ma’am.”
A commiserating mumble.
“Not always fatal. I believe Mr. Rose knew some cases that lived for years after it was discovered that they had a mucous membrane.” A pause. Then Mrs. Rose spoke in a different tone.
“Are you sure, ma’am, there is no mistake about what he said?”
Mumble.
“Pray don’t be so observant, Mrs. Munton; you find out too much. One can have no little secrets.”
The call broke up; and I heard Mrs. Munton say in the passage, “I wish you joy, ma’am, with all my heart. There’s no use denying it; for I’ve seen all along what would happen.”
When I went in to dinner, I said to Mrs. Rose:
“You’ve had Mrs. Munton here, I think. Did she bring any news?” To my surprise, she bridled and simpered, and replied, “Oh, you must not ask, Mr. Harrison; such foolish reports!”
I did not ask, as she seemed to wish me not, and I knew there were silly reports always about. Then I think she was vexed that I did not ask. Altogether she went on so strangely that I could not help looking at her; and then she took up a hand-screen, and held it between me and her. I really felt rather anxious.