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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
191
[Picture:
Standing
over
him
like
a
bold
dragoon]
I
have
wandered
a
long
way
from
the
two
letters
that
awaited
us
on
the
breakfast-table
that
Tuesday
morning.
Mine
was
from
my
father.
Miss
Matty’s
was
printed.
My
father’s
was
just
a
man’s
letter;
I
mean
it
was
very
dull,
and
gave
no
information
beyond
that
he
was
well,
that
they
had
had
a
good
deal
of
rain,
that
trade
was
very
stagnant,
and
there
were
many
disagreeable
rumours
afloat.
He
then
asked
me
if
I
knew
whether
Miss
Matty
still
retained
her
shares
in
the
Town
and
County
Bank,
as
there
were
very
unpleasant
reports
about
it;
though
nothing
more
than
he
had
always
foreseen,
and
had
prophesied
to
Miss
Jenkyns
years
ago,
when
she
would
invest
their
little
property
in
it—
the
only
unwise
step
that
clever
woman
had
ever
taken,
to
his
knowledge
(the
only
time
she
ever
acted
against
his
advice,
I
knew).
However,
if
anything
had
gone
wrong,
of
course
I
was
not
to
think
of
leaving
Miss
Matty
while
I
could
be
of
any
use,
etc.
“Who
is
your
letter
from,
my
dear?
Mine
is
a
very
civil
invitation,
signed
‘Edwin
Wilson,’
asking
me
to
attend
an
important
meeting
of
the
shareholders
of
the
Town
and
County
Bank,
to
be
held
in
Drumble,
on
Thursday
the
twenty-first.
I
am
sure,
it
is
very
attentive
of
them
to
remember
me.”
I
did
not
like
to
hear
of
this
“important
meeting,”
for,
though
I
did
not
know
much
about
business,
I
feared
it
confirmed
what
my
father
said:
however,
I
thought,
ill
news
always
came
fast
enough,
so
I
resolved
to
say
nothing
about
my
alarm,
and
merely
told
her
that
my
father
was
well,
and
sent
his
kind
regards
to
her.
She
kept
turning
over
and
admiring
her
letter.
At
last
she
spoke—
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
