Sir Richard exclaimed, with an appearance of what might have been mistaken for surprise on his face, “Indeed!”
Miss Flouncer, to whom the news was also fresh, exclaimed, “You don’t say so!” with strong emphasis, and an immensely swan-like undulation of her body.
“Indeed I do,” continued Miss Peppy with much animation; “Mrs Gaff, the fisherman’s wife, has got a fortune left her amounting to ten thousand pounds, which, at five per something or other, as my brother tells me, yields an annual income of 500 pounds.”
“But who left it to her, and how?” asked Sir Richard.
“Ah, who left it, and how?” echoed Miss Flouncer.
“What a jolly thing to be left five hundred a year!” whispered Gildart. “Wouldn’t you like some one to leave that to you, Miss Puff?”
“Yes,” said Miss Puff.
“Have you any rich East Indian uncle or aunt who is likely to do it?” inquired Gildart with a desperate attempt at jocularity.
“No,” answered Miss Puff.
These two words—yes and no—were the utmost extent to which Miss Puff had yet ventured into the dreaded sea of conversation. I could perceive by the fagged expression of his face that the middy was beginning to lose heart.