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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
168
We
were
all
of
us
far
too
full
of
the
signor’s
precarious
state
to
talk
either
about
robbers
or
ghosts.
Indeed,
Lady
Glenmire
said
she
never
had
heard
of
any
actual
robberies,
except
that
two
little
boys
had
stolen
some
apples
from
Farmer
Benson’s
orchard,
and
that
some
eggs
had
been
missed
on
a
market-day
off
Widow
Hayward’s
stall.
But
that
was
expecting
too
much
of
us;
we
could
not
acknowledge
that
we
had
only
had
this
small
foundation
for
all
our
panic.
Miss
Pole
drew
herself
up
at
this
remark
of
Lady
Glenmire’s,
and
said
“that
she
wished
she
could
agree
with
her
as
to
the
very
small
reason
we
had
had
for
alarm,
but
with
the
recollection
of
a
man
disguised
as
a
woman
who
had
endeavoured
to
force
himself
into
her
house
while
his
confederates
waited
outside;
with
the
knowledge
gained
from
Lady
Glenmire
herself,
of
the
footprints
seen
on
Mrs
Jamieson’s
flower
borders;
with
the
fact
before
her
of
the
audacious
robbery
committed
on
Mr
Hoggins
at
his
own
door”—
But
here
Lady
Glenmire
broke
in
with
a
very
strong
expression
of
doubt
as
to
whether
this
last
story
was
not
an
entire
fabrication
founded
upon
the
theft
of
a
cat;
she
grew
so
red
while
she
was
saying
all
this
that
I
was
not
surprised
at
Miss
Pole’s
manner
of
bridling
up,
and
I
am
certain,
if
Lady
Glenmire
had
not
been
“her
ladyship,”
we
should
have
had
a
more
emphatic
contradiction
than
the
“Well,
to
be
sure!”
and
similar
fragmentary
ejaculations,
which
were
all
that
she
ventured
upon
in
my
lady’s
presence.
But
when
she
was
gone
Miss
Pole
began
a
long
congratulation
to
Miss
Matty
that
so
far
they
had
escaped
marriage,
which
she
noticed
always
made
people
credulous
to
the
last
degree;
indeed,
she
thought
it
argued
great
natural
credulity
in
a
woman
if
she
could
not
keep
herself
from
being
married;
and
in
what
Lady
Glenmire
had
said
about
Mr
Hoggins’s
robbery
we
had
a
specimen
of
what
people
came
to
if
they
gave
way
to
such
a
weakness;
evidently
Lady
Glenmire
would
swallow
anything
if
she
could
believe
the
poor
vamped-up
story
about
a
neck
of
mutton
and
a
pussy
with
which
he
had
tried
to
impose
on
Miss
Pole,
only
she
had
always
been
on
her
guard
against
believing
too
much
of
what
men
said.
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