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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
182
“What
do
you
think,
Miss
Matty?
What
do
you
think?
Lady
Glenmire
is
to
marry—
is
to
be
married,
I
mean—
Lady
Glenmire—
Mr
Hoggins—
Mr
Hoggins
is
going
to
marry
Lady
Glenmire!”
“Marry!”
said
we.
“Marry!
Madness!”
[Picture:
What
do
you
think,
Miss
Matty]
“Marry!”
said
Miss
Pole,
with
the
decision
that
belonged
to
her
character.
“I
said
marry!
as
you
do;
and
I
also
said,
‘What
a
fool
my
lady
is
going
to
make
of
herself!’
I
could
have
said
‘Madness!’
but
I
controlled
myself,
for
it
was
in
a
public
shop
that
I
heard
of
it.
Where
feminine
delicacy
is
gone
to,
I
don’t
know!
You
and
I,
Miss
Matty,
would
have
been
ashamed
to
have
known
that
our
marriage
was
spoken
of
in
a
grocer’s
shop,
in
the
hearing
of
shopmen!”
“But,”
said
Miss
Matty,
sighing
as
one
recovering
from
a
blow,
“perhaps
it
is
not
true.
Perhaps
we
are
doing
her
injustice.”
“No,”
said
Miss
Pole.
“I
have
taken
care
to
ascertain
that.
I
went
straight
to
Mrs
Fitz-Adam,
to
borrow
a
cookery-book
which
I
knew
she
had;
and
I
introduced
my
congratulations
à
propos
of
the
difficulty
gentlemen
must
have
in
house-keeping;
and
Mrs
Fitz-Adam
bridled
up,
and
said
that
she
believed
it
was
true,
though
how
and
where
I
could
have
heard
it
she
did
not
know.
She
said
her
brother
and
Lady
Glenmire
had
come
to
an
understanding
at
last.
‘Understanding!’
such
a
coarse
word!
But
my
lady
will
have
to
come
down
to
many
a
want
of
refinement.
I
have
reason
to
believe
Mr
Hoggins
sups
on
bread-and-cheese
and
beer
every
night.
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