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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
119
“The
impudence
of
the
man!”
said
Miss
Pole,
in
a
low
indignant
whisper.
“I
should
like
to
ask
him
whether
his
mistress
pays
her
quarter-share
for
his
exclusive
use.”
We
looked
at
her
in
admiration
of
the
courage
of
her
thought;
for
Mr
Mulliner
was
an
object
of
great
awe
to
all
of
us.
He
seemed
never
to
have
forgotten
his
condescension
in
coming
to
live
at
Cranford.
Miss
Jenkyns,
at
times,
had
stood
forth
as
the
undaunted
champion
of
her
sex,
and
spoken
to
him
on
terms
of
equality;
but
even
Miss
Jenkyns
could
get
no
higher.
In
his
pleasantest
and
most
gracious
moods
he
looked
like
a
sulky
cockatoo.
He
did
not
speak
except
in
gruff
monosyllables.
He
would
wait
in
the
hall
when
we
begged
him
not
to
wait,
and
then
look
deeply
offended
because
we
had
kept
him
there,
while,
with
trembling,
hasty
hands
we
prepared
ourselves
for
appearing
in
company.
Miss
Pole
ventured
on
a
small
joke
as
we
went
upstairs,
intended,
though
addressed
to
us,
to
afford
Mr
Mulliner
some
slight
amusement.
We
all
smiled,
in
order
to
seem
as
if
we
felt
at
our
ease,
and
timidly
looked
for
Mr
Mulliner’s
sympathy.
Not
a
muscle
of
that
wooden
face
had
relaxed;
and
we
were
grave
in
an
instant.
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