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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
255
So,
angry
and
irritated,
and
exaggerating
every
little
incident
which
could
add
to
my
irritation,
I
went
on
till
we
were
all
assembled
in
the
great
parlour
at
the
“George.”
Major
and
Mrs
Gordon
and
pretty
Flora
and
Mr
Ludovic
were
all
as
bright
and
handsome
and
friendly
as
could
be;
but
I
could
hardly
attend
to
them
for
watching
Mr
Peter,
and
I
saw
that
Miss
Pole
was
equally
busy.
I
had
never
seen
Mrs
Jamieson
so
roused
and
animated
before;
her
face
looked
full
of
interest
in
what
Mr
Peter
was
saying.
I
drew
near
to
listen.
My
relief
was
great
when
I
caught
that
his
words
were
not
words
of
love,
but
that,
for
all
his
grave
face,
he
was
at
his
old
tricks.
He
was
telling
her
of
his
travels
in
India,
and
describing
the
wonderful
height
of
the
Himalaya
mountains:
one
touch
after
another
added
to
their
size,
and
each
exceeded
the
former
in
absurdity;
but
Mrs
Jamieson
really
enjoyed
all
in
perfect
good
faith.
I
suppose
she
required
strong
stimulants
to
excite
her
to
come
out
of
her
apathy.
Mr
Peter
wound
up
his
account
by
saying
that,
of
course,
at
that
altitude
there
were
none
of
the
animals
to
be
found
that
existed
in
the
lower
regions;
the
game,—
everything
was
different.
Firing
one
day
at
some
flying
creature,
he
was
very
much
dismayed
when
it
fell,
to
find
that
he
had
shot
a
cherubim!
Mr
Peter
caught
my
eye
at
this
moment,
and
gave
me
such
a
funny
twinkle,
that
I
felt
sure
he
had
no
thoughts
of
Mrs
Jamieson
as
a
wife
from
that
time.
She
looked
uncomfortably
amazed—
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