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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
26
Captain
Brown
called
one
day
to
thank
Miss
Jenkyns
for
many
little
kindnesses,
which
I
did
not
know
until
then
that
she
had
rendered.
He
had
suddenly
become
like
an
old
man;
his
deep
bass
voice
had
a
quavering
in
it,
his
eyes
looked
dim,
and
the
lines
on
his
face
were
deep.
He
did
not—
could
not—
speak
cheerfully
of
his
daughter’s
state,
but
he
talked
with
manly,
pious
resignation,
and
not
much.
Twice
over
he
said,
“What
Jessie
has
been
to
us,
God
only
knows!”
and
after
the
second
time,
he
got
up
hastily,
shook
hands
all
round
without
speaking,
and
left
the
room.
That
afternoon
we
perceived
little
groups
in
the
street,
all
listening
with
faces
aghast
to
some
tale
or
other.
Miss
Jenkyns
wondered
what
could
be
the
matter
for
some
time
before
she
took
the
undignified
step
of
sending
Jenny
out
to
inquire.
Jenny
came
back
with
a
white
face
of
terror.
“Oh,
ma’am!
Oh,
Miss
Jenkyns,
ma’am!
Captain
Brown
is
killed
by
them
nasty
cruel
railroads!”
and
she
burst
into
tears.
She,
along
with
many
others,
had
experienced
the
poor
Captain’s
kindness.
“How?—
where—
where?
Good
God!
Jenny,
don’t
waste
time
in
crying,
but
tell
us
something.”
Miss
Matty
rushed
out
into
the
street
at
once,
and
collared
the
man
who
was
telling
the
tale.
[Picture:
She
brought
the
affrighted
carter
...
into
the
drawing-room]
“Come
in—
come
to
my
sister
at
once,
Miss
Jenkyns,
the
rector’s
daughter.
Oh,
man,
man!
say
it
is
not
true,”
she
cried,
as
she
brought
the
affrighted
carter,
sleeking
down
his
hair,
into
the
drawing-room,
where
he
stood
with
his
wet
boots
on
the
new
carpet,
and
no
one
regarded
it.
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