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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
241
I
thought
that
the
best
I
could
do
was
to
run
and
put
the
kettle
on
the
fire
for
early
tea,
and
then
to
attend
to
the
shop,
leaving
the
brother
and
sister
to
exchange
some
of
the
many
thousand
things
they
must
have
to
say.
I
had
also
to
break
the
news
to
Martha,
who
received
it
with
a
burst
of
tears
which
nearly
infected
me.
She
kept
recovering
herself
to
ask
if
I
was
sure
it
was
indeed
Miss
Matty’s
brother,
for
I
had
mentioned
that
he
had
grey
hair,
and
she
had
always
heard
that
he
was
a
very
handsome
young
man.
Something
of
the
same
kind
perplexed
Miss
Matty
at
tea-time,
when
she
was
installed
in
the
great
easy-chair
opposite
to
Mr
Jenkyns
in
order
to
gaze
her
fill.
She
could
hardly
drink
for
looking
at
him,
and
as
for
eating,
that
was
out
of
the
question.
“I
suppose
hot
climates
age
people
very
quickly,”
said
she,
almost
to
herself.
“When
you
left
Cranford
you
had
not
a
grey
hair
in
your
head.”
“But
how
many
years
ago
is
that?”
said
Mr
Peter,
smiling.
“Ah,
true!
yes,
I
suppose
you
and
I
are
getting
old.
But
still
I
did
not
think
we
were
so
very
old!
But
white
hair
is
very
becoming
to
you,
Peter,”
she
continued—
a
little
afraid
lest
she
had
hurt
him
by
revealing
how
his
appearance
had
impressed
her.
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