HEPHZIBAH. Nay! What will thee call her?
GERTRUDE. I'll tell you--by-and-bye. Remember, she must never, never
be reminded of the name.
HEPHZIBAH. Aye, I'll be maist carefu'. Poor leddy! After the way she
treated that husband o' hers in Florence neet and day, neet and day!
GERTRUDE. The world's full of unhappiness, Heppy.
HEPHZIBAH. The world's full of husbands. I canna' bide them. They're
true enough when they're ailin'--but a lass can't keep her Jo always
sick. Hey, Miss Gerty! Do forgi'e your auld Heppy!
GERTRUDE. For what?
HEPHZIBAH. Why, your own man, so I've heered, ne'er had as much as a
bit headache till he caught his fever and died o't.
GERTRUDE. No, I never knew Captain Thorpe to complain of an ache or a
pain.
HEPHZIBAH. And he was a rare, bonny husband to thee, if a tales be
true.
GERTRUDE. Yes, Heppy. [Listening, startled.] Who's this?