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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
240
“Yes!”
said
I.
All
my
doubts
as
to
his
identity
were
set
at
rest,
and
I
only
wondered
what
he
would
say
or
do
next,
and
how
Miss
Matty
would
stand
the
joyful
shock
of
what
he
had
to
reveal.
Apparently
he
was
at
a
loss
how
to
announce
himself,
for
he
looked
round
at
last
in
search
of
something
to
buy,
so
as
to
gain
time,
and,
as
it
happened,
his
eye
caught
on
the
almond-comfits,
and
he
boldly
asked
for
a
pound
of
“those
things.”
I
doubt
if
Miss
Matty
had
a
whole
pound
in
the
shop,
and,
besides
the
unusual
magnitude
of
the
order,
she
was
distressed
with
the
idea
of
the
indigestion
they
would
produce,
taken
in
such
unlimited
quantities.
She
looked
up
to
remonstrate.
Something
of
tender
relaxation
in
his
face
struck
home
to
her
heart.
She
said,
“It
is—
oh,
sir!
can
you
be
Peter?”
and
trembled
from
head
to
foot.
In
a
moment
he
was
round
the
table
and
had
her
in
his
arms,
sobbing
the
tearless
cries
of
old
age.
I
brought
her
a
glass
of
wine,
for
indeed
her
colour
had
changed
so
as
to
alarm
me
and
Mr
Peter
too.
He
kept
saying,
“I
have
been
too
sudden
for
you,
Matty—
I
have,
my
little
girl.”
I
proposed
that
she
should
go
at
once
up
into
the
drawing-room
and
lie
down
on
the
sofa
there.
She
looked
wistfully
at
her
brother,
whose
hand
she
had
held
tight,
even
when
nearly
fainting;
but
on
his
assuring
her
that
he
would
not
leave
her,
she
allowed
him
to
carry
her
upstairs.
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