"What!" cried Madam, in a sudden panic; "who says that? What do you mean, girl?"
"It was Reuben who told me," answered Gertrude, with a little blush which she tried to conceal by turning her face towards the window.
But her ruse was in vain. Madam's hawk eye had caught the rising colour, and her brow contracted sharply.
"Reuben! what Reuben? Have I not told you a hundred times that I would have none of that sort of talk any more? Reuben, indeed! as though you were boy and girl together! Pray tell me this, you forward minx, does he dare to address you as Gertrude when he has the insolence to speak to you in the streets, where alone I presume he can do so?"
Gertrude's face was burning with indignation. She had to clasp her hands tightly together to restrain the hot words which rose to her lips.
"We have been children together--and friends," she said, "the Harmers and I. How should we forget that so quickly--even though you have forgotten! My father does not mind."
Madam's face was as red as her daughter's. She was about to make some violent retort, when the sound of a footstep on the stairs checked the words upon her lips.
"There is Frederick!" she said.