Page:Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag, Volume 2.djvu/235

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it's Mrs. Wilkins, without even a pincushion prepared."

While Livy stood gazing in silent satisfaction (merely regretting that the name on the door was Pendergast, not Sweedle-pipes), the Professor turned to a woman, and asked with admirable gravity, "Can you tell me where Mrs. Gamp lives?"

"What's her business?" demanded the matron, with interest.

"A nurse, ma'am."

"Is she a little fat woman?"

"Fat, decidedly, and old," returned the professor, without a smile on his somewhat cherubic countenance.

"Well, she lives No. 5, round the corner."

On receiving this unexpected reply, they looked at one another in comic dismay; but would certainly have gone to No. 5, and taken a look at the modern Sairy, if the woman hadn't called out as they moved on,—

"I b'lieve that nuss's name is Britian, not Gamp; but you can ask."

Murmuring a hasty "thank you," they fled pre-