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Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
30
Miss
Pole,
Miss
Matty,
and
I,
meanwhile
attended
to
Miss
Brown:
and
hard
work
we
found
it
to
relieve
her
querulous
and
never-ending
complaints.
But
if
we
were
so
weary
and
dispirited,
what
must
Miss
Jessie
have
been!
Yet
she
came
back
almost
calm
as
if
she
had
gained
a
new
strength.
She
put
off
her
mourning
dress,
and
came
in,
looking
pale
and
gentle,
thanking
us
each
with
a
soft
long
pressure
of
the
hand.
She
could
even
smile—
a
faint,
sweet,
wintry
smile—
as
if
to
reassure
us
of
her
power
to
endure;
but
her
look
made
our
eyes
fill
suddenly
with
tears,
more
than
if
she
had
cried
outright.
It
was
settled
that
Miss
Pole
was
to
remain
with
her
all
the
watching
livelong
night;
and
that
Miss
Matty
and
I
were
to
return
in
the
morning
to
relieve
them,
and
give
Miss
Jessie
the
opportunity
for
a
few
hours
of
sleep.
But
when
the
morning
came,
Miss
Jenkyns
appeared
at
the
breakfast-table,
equipped
in
her
helmet-bonnet,
and
ordered
Miss
Matty
to
stay
at
home,
as
she
meant
to
go
and
help
to
nurse.
She
was
evidently
in
a
state
of
great
friendly
excitement,
which
she
showed
by
eating
her
breakfast
standing,
and
scolding
the
household
all
round.
No
nursing—
no
energetic
strong-minded
woman
could
help
Miss
Brown
now.
There
was
that
in
the
room
as
we
entered
which
was
stronger
than
us
all,
and
made
us
shrink
into
solemn
awestruck
helplessness.
Miss
Brown
was
dying.
We
hardly
knew
her
voice,
it
was
so
devoid
of
the
complaining
tone
we
had
always
associated
with
it.
Miss
Jessie
told
me
afterwards
that
it,
and
her
face
too,
were
just
what
they
had
been
formerly,
when
her
mother’s
death
left
her
the
young
anxious
head
of
the
family,
of
whom
only
Miss
Jessie
survived.
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