Cranford

I went to see Miss Pole the next day, and took her completely by surprise, for she had not been to see Miss Matilda for two days. “And now I must go back with you, my dear, for I promised to let her know how Thomas Holbrook went on; and, I’m sorry to say, his housekeeper has sent me word to-day that he hasn’t long to live. Poor Thomas! that journey to Paris was quite too much for him. His housekeeper says he has hardly ever been round his fields since, but just sits with his hands on his knees in the counting-house, not reading or anything, but only saying what a wonderful city Paris was! Paris has much to answer for if it’s killed my cousin Thomas, for a better man never lived.” “Does Miss Matilda know of his illness?” asked I— a new light as to the cause of her indisposition dawning upon me. “Dear! to be sure, yes! Has not she told you? I let her know a fortnight ago, or more, when first I heard of it. How odd she shouldn’t have told you!”