Cranford

“I am afraid,” said she, hesitating, “whichever I choose I shall wish I had taken another. Look at this lovely crimson! it would be so warm in winter. But spring is coming on, you know. I wish I could have a gown for every season,” said she, dropping her voice— as we all did in Cranford whenever we talked of anything we wished for but could not afford. “However,” she continued in a louder and more cheerful tone, “it would give me a great deal of trouble to take care of them if I had them; so, I think, I’ll only take one. But which must it be, my dear?” And now she hovered over a lilac with yellow spots, while I pulled out a quiet sage-green that had faded into insignificance under the more brilliant colours, but which was nevertheless a good silk in its humble way. Our attention was called off to our neighbour. He had chosen a shawl of about thirty shillings’ value; and his face looked broadly happy, under the anticipation, no doubt, of the pleasant surprise he would give to some Molly or Jenny at home; he had tugged a leathern purse out of his breeches-pocket, and had offered a five-pound note in payment for the shawl, and for some parcels which had been brought round to him from the grocery counter; and it was just at this point that he attracted our notice. The shopman was examining the note with a puzzled, doubtful air. “Town and County Bank! I am not sure, sir, but I believe we have received a warning against notes issued by this bank only this morning. I will just step and ask Mr Johnson, sir; but I’m afraid I must trouble you for payment in cash, or in a note of a different bank.”