Cranford | Page 7

maid-servant's labours in every
way--knowing, most likely, that his daughter's illness made the place a
hard one.
He endeavoured to make peace with Miss Jenkyns soon after the
memorable dispute I have named, by a present of a wooden fire- shovel
(his own making), having heard her say how much the grating of an
iron one annoyed her. She received the present with cool gratitude, and
thanked him formally. When he was gone, she bade me put it away in
the lumber-room; feeling, probably, that no present from a man who
preferred Mr Boz to Dr Johnson could be less jarring than an iron
fire-shovel.
Such was the state of things when I left Cranford and went to Drumble.
I had, however, several correspondents, who kept me au fait as to the
proceedings of the dear little town. There was Miss Pole, who was
becoming as much absorbed in crochet as she had been once in knitting,
and the burden of whose letter was something like, "But don't you
forget the white worsted at Flint's" of the old song; for at the end of
every sentence of news came a fresh direction as to some crochet
commission which I was to execute for her. Miss Matilda Jenkyns (who
did not mind being called Miss Matty, when Miss Jenkyns was not by)
wrote nice, kind, rambling letters, now and then venturing into an
opinion of her own; but suddenly pulling herself up, and either begging
me not to name what she had said, as Deborah thought differently, and
SHE knew, or else putting in a postscript to the effect that, since
writing the above, she had been talking over the subject with Deborah,
and was quite convinced that, etc.--(here probably followed a
recantation of every opinion she had given in the letter). Then came
Miss Jenkyns--Deborah, as she liked Miss Matty to call her, her father
having once said that the Hebrew name ought to be so pronounced. I
secretly think she took the Hebrew prophetess for a model in character;
and, indeed, she was not unlike the stern prophetess in some ways,
making allowance, of course, for modern customs and difference in

dress. Miss Jenkyns wore a cravat, and a little bonnet like a jockey-cap,
and altogether had the appearance of a strong-minded woman; although
she would have despised the modern idea of women being equal to men.
Equal, indeed! she knew they were superior. But to return to her letters.
Everything in them was stately and grand like herself. I have been
looking them over (dear Miss Jenkyns, how I honoured her!) and I will
give an extract, more especially because it relates to our friend Captain
Brown:-
"The Honourable Mrs Jamieson has only just quitted me; and, in the
course of conversation, she communicated to me the intelligence that
she had yesterday received a call from her revered husband's quondam
friend, Lord Mauleverer. You will not easily conjecture what brought
his lordship within the precincts of our little town. It was to see Captain
Brown, with whom, it appears, his lordship was acquainted in the
'plumed wars,' and who had the privilege of averting destruction from
his lordship's head when some great peril was impending over it, off
the misnomered Cape of Good Hope. You know our friend the
Honourable Mrs Jamieson's deficiency in the spirit of innocent
curiosity, and you will therefore not be so much surprised when I tell
you she was quite unable to disclose to me the exact nature of the peril
in question. I was anxious, I confess, to ascertain in what manner
Captain Brown, with his limited establishment, could receive so
distinguished a guest; and I discovered that his lordship retired to rest,
and, let us hope, to refreshing slumbers, at the Angel Hotel; but shared
the Brunonian meals during the two days that he honoured Cranford
with his august presence. Mrs Johnson, our civil butcher's wife, informs
me that Miss Jessie purchased a leg of lamb; but, besides this, I can
hear of no preparation whatever to give a suitable reception to so
distinguished a visitor. Perhaps they entertained him with 'the feast of
reason and the flow of soul'; and to us, who are acquainted with
Captain Brown's sad want of relish for 'the pure wells of English
undefiled,' it may be matter for congratulation that he has had the
opportunity of improving his taste by holding converse with an elegant
and refined member of the British aristocracy. But from some mundane
failings who is altogether free?"
Miss Pole and Miss Matty wrote to me by the same post. Such a piece
of news as Lord Mauleverer's visit was not to be lost on the Cranford

letter-writers: they made the most of it. Miss Matty humbly apologised
for writing at the same