try at it again, and finally to succeed in
carrying their burden out of Miss Barker's
front-door. Then we heard their quick pit-
a-pat along the quiet little street, as we put
on our calashes, and pinned up our gowns;
Miss Barker hovering about us with offers of
help; which, if she had not remembered her
former occupation, and wished us to forget it,
would have been much more pressing.

Early the next morning—directly after
twelve—Miss Pole made her appearance at
Miss Matey's. Some very trifling piece of
business was alleged as a reason for the call;
but there was evidently something behind.
At last out it came.

"By the way, you 'll think I 'm strangely
ignorant; but, do you really know, I am
puzzled how we ought to address Lady
Glenmire. Do you say, ' Your Ladyship,' where
you would say ' you ' to a common person?
I have been puzzling all morning; and are
we to say ' My Lady,' instead of ' Ma'am '?
Now, you knew Lady Arley—will you kindly
tell me the most correct way of speaking to
the Peerage?"

Poor Miss Matey! she took off her
spectacles, and she put them on again—but how
Lady Arley was addressed, she could not
remember.

"It is so long ago! " she said. " Dear!
dear! how stupid I am! I don't think I
ever saw her more than twice. I know we
used to call Sir Peter, 'Sir Peter,'—but he
came much oftener to see us than Lady Arley
did. Deborah would have known in a minute.
My lady—your ladyship. It sounds very
strange, and as if it was not natural. I
never thought of it before; but, now you
have named it, I am all in a puzzle."

It was very certain Miss Pole would obtain
no wise decision from Miss Matey, who got
more bewildered every moment, and more
perplexed as to etiquettes of address.

"Well, I really think," said Miss Pole, " I
had better just go and tell Mrs. Forrester
about our little difficulty. One sometimes
grows nervous; and yet one would not have
Lady Glenmire think we were quite ignorant
of the etiquettes of high life in Cranford."

"And will you just step in here, dear Miss
Pole, as you come back, please; and tell me
what you decide upon. Whatever you and
Mrs. Forrester fix upon, will be quite right,
I 'm sure. ' Lady Arley,' ' Sir Peter,' " said
Miss Matey to herself, trying to recall the old
forms of words.

"Who is Lady Glenmire?" asked I.

"Oh! she's the widow of Mr. Jamieson—
that's Mrs. Jamieson's late husband, you know
—widow of his eldest brother. Mrs. Jamieson
was a Miss Walker, daughter of Governor
Walker. Your ladyship. My dear, if
they fix on that way of speaking, you must
just let me practise a little on you first, for I
shall feel so foolish and hot, saying it the first
time to Lady Glenmire."

It was really a relief to Miss Matey when
Mrs. Jamieson came on a very unpolite
errand. I notice that apathetic people have
more quiet impertinence than any others;
and Mrs. Jamieson came now to insinuate
pretty plainly, that she did not particularly
wish that the Cranford ladies should call upon
her sister-in-law. I can hardly say how she
made this clear; for I grew very indignant
and warm, while with slow deliberation she
was explaining her wishes to Miss Matey,
who, a true lady herself, could hardly understand
the feeling which made Mrs. Jamieson
wish to appear to her noble sister-in-law as
if she only visited " county " families; Miss
Matey remained puzzled and perplexed long
after I had found out the object of Mrs.
Jamieson's visit.

When she did understand the drift of the
honourable lady's call, it was pretty to see
with what quiet dignity she received the
intimation thus uncourteously given. She
was not in the least hurt—she was of too
gentle a spirit for that; nor was she exactly
conscious of disapproving of Mrs. Jamieson's
conduct; but there was something of this
feeling in her mind, I am sure, which made
her pass from the subject to others, in a less
flurried and more composed manner than
usual. Mrs. Jamieson was, indeed, the more
flurried of the two, and I could see she was
glad to take her leave.

A little while afterwards, Miss Pole
returned, red and indignant. " Well! to be
sure! You've had Mrs. Jamieson here, I
find from Martha; and we are not to call on
Lady Glenmire. Yes! I met Mrs. Jamieson,
half-way between here and Mrs. Forrester's,
and she told me; she took me so by surprise,
I had nothing to say. I wish I had thought
of something very sharp and sarcastic; I
dare say I shall to-night. And Lady Glenmire
is but the widow of a Scotch baron,
after all! I went on to look at Mrs.
Forrester's Peerage, to see who this lady was,
that is to be kept under a glass-case: widow
of a Scotch peer—never sat in the House of
Lords—and as poor as Job, I dare say; and
she—fifth daughter of some Mr. Campbell or
other. You are the daughter of a rector, at
any rate, and related to the Arleys; and
Sir Peter might have been Viscount Arley,
every one says."

Miss Matey tried to soothe Miss Pole, but
in vain. That lady, usually so kind and
good-humoured, was now in a full flow of
anger.

"And I went and ordered a cap this
morning, to be quite ready," said she, at last,
letting out the secret which gave sting to
Mrs. Jamieson's intimation. " Mrs. Jamieson
shall see if it's so easy to get me to make
fourth at a pool, when she has none of her
fine Scotch relations with her!"

In coming out of church, the first Sunday
on which Lady Glenmire appeared in Cranford,
we sedulously talked together, and
turned our backs on Mrs. Jamieson and her