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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
225
[Picture:
Miss
Matty
and
I
sat
assenting
to
accounts]
While
Miss
Matty
was
out
of
the
room
giving
orders
for
luncheon—
and
sadly
perplexed
between
her
desire
of
honouring
my
father
by
a
delicate,
dainty
meal,
and
her
conviction
that
she
had
no
right,
now
that
all
her
money
was
gone,
to
indulge
this
desire—
I
told
him
of
the
meeting
of
the
Cranford
ladies
at
Miss
Pole’s
the
day
before.
He
kept
brushing
his
hand
before
his
eyes
as
I
spoke—
and
when
I
went
back
to
Martha’s
offer
the
evening
before,
of
receiving
Miss
Matty
as
a
lodger,
he
fairly
walked
away
from
me
to
the
window,
and
began
drumming
with
his
fingers
upon
it.
Then
he
turned
abruptly
round,
and
said,
“See,
Mary,
how
a
good,
innocent
life
makes
friends
all
around.
Confound
it!
I
could
make
a
good
lesson
out
of
it
if
I
were
a
parson;
but,
as
it
is,
I
can’t
get
a
tail
to
my
sentences—
only
I’m
sure
you
feel
what
I
want
to
say.
You
and
I
will
have
a
walk
after
lunch
and
talk
a
bit
more
about
these
plans.”
The
lunch—
a
hot
savoury
mutton-chop,
and
a
little
of
the
cold
loin
sliced
and
fried—
was
now
brought
in.
Every
morsel
of
this
last
dish
was
finished,
to
Martha’s
great
gratification.
Then
my
father
bluntly
told
Miss
Matty
he
wanted
to
talk
to
me
alone,
and
that
he
would
stroll
out
and
see
some
of
the
old
places,
and
then
I
could
tell
her
what
plan
we
thought
desirable.
Just
before
we
went
out,
she
called
me
back
and
said,
“Remember,
dear,
I’m
the
only
one
left—
I
mean,
there’s
no
one
to
be
hurt
by
what
I
do.
I’m
willing
to
do
anything
that’s
right
and
honest;
and
I
don’t
think,
if
Deborah
knows
where
she
is,
she’ll
care
so
very
much
if
I’m
not
genteel;
because,
you
see,
she’ll
know
all,
dear.
Only
let
me
see
what
I
can
do,
and
pay
the
poor
people
as
far
as
I’m
able.”
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