But a new idea sprang up in Mrs. Leigh's head. She thought that she
would go and see Susan Palmer, and speak up for Will, and tell her the
truth about Lizzie; and according to her pity for the poor sinner, would
she be worthy or unworthy of him. She resolved to go the very next
afternoon, but without telling any one of her plan. Accordingly she
looked out the Sunday clothes she had never before had the heart to
unpack since she came to Manchester, but which she now desired to appear
in, in order to do credit to Will. She put on her old-fashioned black
mode bonnet, trimmed with real lace; her scarlet cloth cloak, which she
had had ever since she was married; and, always spotlessly clean, she set
forth on her unauthorised embassy. She knew the Palmers lived in Crown
Street, though where she had heard it she could not tell; and modestly
asking her way, she arrived in the street about a quarter to four
o'clock. She stopped to enquire the exact number, and the woman whom she
addressed told her that Susan Palmer's school would not be loosed till
four, and asked her to step in and wait until then at her house.

"For," said she, smiling, "them that wants Susan Palmer wants a kind
friend of ours; so we, in a manner, call cousins. Sit down, missus, sit
down. I'll wipe the chair, so that it shanna dirty your cloak. My
mother used to wear them bright cloaks, and they're right gradely things
again a green field."

"Han ye known Susan Palmer long?" asked Mrs. Leigh, pleased with the
admiration of her cloak.

"Ever since they comed to live in our street. Our Sally goes to her
school."