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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
46
“Leave
me,
leave
me
to
repose.”
And
now
I
come
to
the
love
affair.
It
seems
that
Miss
Pole
had
a
cousin,
once
or
twice
removed,
who
had
offered
to
Miss
Matty
long
ago.
Now
this
cousin
lived
four
or
five
miles
from
Cranford
on
his
own
estate;
but
his
property
was
not
large
enough
to
entitle
him
to
rank
higher
than
a
yeoman;
or
rather,
with
something
of
the
“pride
which
apes
humility,”
he
had
refused
to
push
himself
on,
as
so
many
of
his
class
had
done,
into
the
ranks
of
the
squires.
He
would
not
allow
himself
to
be
called
Thomas
Holbrook,
Esq.;
he
even
sent
back
letters
with
this
address,
telling
the
post-mistress
at
Cranford
that
his
name
was
Mr
Thomas
Holbrook,
yeoman.
He
rejected
all
domestic
innovations;
he
would
have
the
house
door
stand
open
in
summer
and
shut
in
winter,
without
knocker
or
bell
to
summon
a
servant.
The
closed
fist
or
the
knob
of
a
stick
did
this
office
for
him
if
he
found
the
door
locked.
He
despised
every
refinement
which
had
not
its
root
deep
down
in
humanity.
If
people
were
not
ill,
he
saw
no
necessity
for
moderating
his
voice.
He
spoke
the
dialect
of
the
country
in
perfection,
and
constantly
used
it
in
conversation;
although
Miss
Pole
(who
gave
me
these
particulars)
added,
that
he
read
aloud
more
beautifully
and
with
more
feeling
than
any
one
she
had
ever
heard,
except
the
late
rector.
“And
how
came
Miss
Matilda
not
to
marry
him?”
asked
I.
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