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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
219
Miss
Pole
concluded
her
address,
and
looked
round
for
approval
and
agreement.
“I
have
expressed
your
meaning,
ladies,
have
I
not?
And
while
Miss
Smith
considers
what
reply
to
make,
allow
me
to
offer
you
some
little
refreshment.”
I
had
no
great
reply
to
make:
I
had
more
thankfulness
at
my
heart
for
their
kind
thoughts
than
I
cared
to
put
into
words;
and
so
I
only
mumbled
out
something
to
the
effect
“that
I
would
name
what
Miss
Pole
had
said
to
my
father,
and
that
if
anything
could
be
arranged
for
dear
Miss
Matty,”—
and
here
I
broke
down
utterly,
and
had
to
be
refreshed
with
a
glass
of
cowslip
wine
before
I
could
check
the
crying
which
had
been
repressed
for
the
last
two
or
three
days.
The
worst
was,
all
the
ladies
cried
in
concert.
Even
Miss
Pole
cried,
who
had
said
a
hundred
times
that
to
betray
emotion
before
any
one
was
a
sign
of
weakness
and
want
of
self-control.
She
recovered
herself
into
a
slight
degree
of
impatient
anger,
directed
against
me,
as
having
set
them
all
off;
and,
moreover,
I
think
she
was
vexed
that
I
could
not
make
a
speech
back
in
return
for
hers;
and
if
I
had
known
beforehand
what
was
to
be
said,
and
had
a
card
on
which
to
express
the
probable
feelings
that
would
rise
in
my
heart,
I
would
have
tried
to
gratify
her.
As
it
was,
Mrs
Forrester
was
the
person
to
speak
when
we
had
recovered
our
composure.
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