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Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
44
“Oh!
how
must
I
manage?”
asked
she
helplessly.
“If
Deborah
had
been
alive
she
would
have
known
what
to
do
with
a
gentleman-visitor.
Must
I
put
razors
in
his
dressing-room?
Dear!
dear!
and
I’ve
got
none.
Deborah
would
have
had
them.
And
slippers,
and
coat-brushes?”
I
suggested
that
probably
he
would
bring
all
these
things
with
him.
“And
after
dinner,
how
am
I
to
know
when
to
get
up
and
leave
him
to
his
wine?
Deborah
would
have
done
it
so
well;
she
would
have
been
quite
in
her
element.
Will
he
want
coffee,
do
you
think?”
I
undertook
the
management
of
the
coffee,
and
told
her
I
would
instruct
Martha
in
the
art
of
waiting—
in
which
it
must
be
owned
she
was
terribly
deficient—
and
that
I
had
no
doubt
Major
and
Mrs
Jenkyns
would
understand
the
quiet
mode
in
which
a
lady
lived
by
herself
in
a
country
town.
But
she
was
sadly
fluttered.
I
made
her
empty
her
decanters
and
bring
up
two
fresh
bottles
of
wine.
I
wished
I
could
have
prevented
her
from
being
present
at
my
instructions
to
Martha,
for
she
frequently
cut
in
with
some
fresh
direction,
muddling
the
poor
girl’s
mind
as
she
stood
open-mouthed,
listening
to
us
both.
“Hand
the
vegetables
round,”
said
I
(foolishly,
I
see
now—
for
it
was
aiming
at
more
than
we
could
accomplish
with
quietness
and
simplicity);
and
then,
seeing
her
look
bewildered,
I
added,
“take
the
vegetables
round
to
people,
and
let
them
help
themselves.”
“And
mind
you
go
first
to
the
ladies,”
put
in
Miss
Matilda.
“Always
go
to
the
ladies
before
gentlemen
when
you
are
waiting.”
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