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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
29
The
corpse
was
to
be
taken
from
the
station
to
the
parish
church,
there
to
be
interred.
Miss
Jessie
had
set
her
heart
on
following
it
to
the
grave;
and
no
dissuasives
could
alter
her
resolve.
Her
restraint
upon
herself
made
her
almost
obstinate;
she
resisted
all
Miss
Pole’s
entreaties
and
Miss
Jenkyns’
advice.
At
last
Miss
Jenkyns
gave
up
the
point;
and
after
a
silence,
which
I
feared
portended
some
deep
displeasure
against
Miss
Jessie,
Miss
Jenkyns
said
she
should
accompany
the
latter
to
the
funeral.
“It
is
not
fit
for
you
to
go
alone.
It
would
be
against
both
propriety
and
humanity
were
I
to
allow
it.”
Miss
Jessie
seemed
as
if
she
did
not
half
like
this
arrangement;
but
her
obstinacy,
if
she
had
any,
had
been
exhausted
in
her
determination
to
go
to
the
interment.
She
longed,
poor
thing,
I
have
no
doubt,
to
cry
alone
over
the
grave
of
the
dear
father
to
whom
she
had
been
all
in
all,
and
to
give
way,
for
one
little
half-hour,
uninterrupted
by
sympathy
and
unobserved
by
friendship.
But
it
was
not
to
be.
That
afternoon
Miss
Jenkyns
sent
out
for
a
yard
of
black
crape,
and
employed
herself
busily
in
trimming
the
little
black
silk
bonnet
I
have
spoken
about.
When
it
was
finished
she
put
it
on,
and
looked
at
us
for
approbation—
admiration
she
despised.
I
was
full
of
sorrow,
but,
by
one
of
those
whimsical
thoughts
which
come
unbidden
into
our
heads,
in
times
of
deepest
grief,
I
no
sooner
saw
the
bonnet
than
I
was
reminded
of
a
helmet;
and
in
that
hybrid
bonnet,
half
helmet,
half
jockey-cap,
did
Miss
Jenkyns
attend
Captain
Brown’s
funeral,
and,
I
believe,
supported
Miss
Jessie
with
a
tender,
indulgent
firmness
which
was
invaluable,
allowing
her
to
weep
her
passionate
fill
before
they
left.
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