She was instantly surrounded.
"Who was it? Who was it?" was asked and reiterated.
"Wait until I get my breath," said Mrs. Tongue, sinking into a chair. "Bless me! I have walked so fast!"
"Who was it? Who was it? Who was it?" came with reiterations from several female voices while the lady was employed in getting her breath.
"Will you all promise not to say a word about it?" said Mrs. Tongue.
"Yes—yes!—not a word—not a syllable!—we will not breathe it!" was instantly and unanimously promised by the female portion of Mrs. Tongue's audience.
"You know the Widow Wild's cook?" said Mrs. Tongue.
"Yes," said Mrs. Foot.
"The black woman whom Simon Rump kissed!" screamed Mrs. Smart.
"The miserable dog!" cried Mrs. Cross.