manifested it. Some little anecdotes were talked about for some
time after they occurred. As we did not read much, and as all the
ladies were pretty well suited with servants, there was a dearth of
subjects for conversation. We therefore discussed the circumstance
of the Captain taking a poor old woman's dinner out of her hands
one very slippery Sunday. He had met her returning from the
bakehouse as he came from church, and noticed her precarious
footing; and, with the grave dignity with which he did everything,
he relieved her of her burden, and steered along the street by her
side, carrying her baked mutton and potatoes safely home. This was
thought very eccentric; and it was rather expected that he would
pay a round of calls, on the Monday morning, to explain and
apologise to the Cranford sense of propriety: but he did no such
thing: and then it was decided that he was ashamed, and was
keeping out of sight. In a kindly pity for him, we began to say,
"After all, the Sunday morning's occurrence showed great goodness
of heart," and it was resolved that he should be comforted on his
next appearance amongst us; but, lo! he came down upon us,
untouched by any sense of shame, speaking loud and bass as ever,
his head thrown back, his wig as jaunty and well-curled as usual,
and we were obliged to conclude he had forgotten all about Sunday.

Miss Pole and Miss Jessie Brown had set up a kind of intimacy on
the strength of the Shetland wool and the new knitting stitches; so
it happened that when I went to visit Miss Pole I saw more of the
Browns than I had done while staying with Miss Jenkyns, who had
never got over what she called Captain Brown's disparaging remarks
upon Dr Johnson as a writer of light and agreeable fiction. I
found that Miss Brown was seriously ill of some lingering,
incurable complaint, the pain occasioned by which gave the uneasy