forget;" and she lectured dear Miss Matey
so long on this head, that she absolutely ended
by assuring her it was her duty, as a deceased
rector's daughter, to buy a new cap, and go
to the party at Mrs. Jamieson's. So " we were
most happy to accept," instead of " regretting
that we were obliged to decline."

The expenditure in dress in Cranford was
principally in that one article referred to. If
the heads were buried in smart new caps, the
ladies were like ostriches, and cared not what
became of their bodies. Old gowns, white
and venerable collars, any number of brooches,
up and down and everywhere (some with dogs'
eyes painted in them; some that were like
small picture-frames with mausoleums and
weeping-willows neatly executed in hair
inside; some, again, with miniatures of ladies
and gentlemen sweetly smiling out of a nest
of stiff muslin)—old brooches for a permanent
ornament, and new caps to suit the fashion of
the day; the ladies of Cranford always dressed
with chaste elegance and propriety, as Miss
Barker once prettily expressed it. And with
three new caps, and a greater array of
brooches than had ever been seen together at
one time, since Cranford was a town, did
Mrs. Forrester, and Miss Matey, and Miss
Pole appear on that memorable Tuesday
evening. I counted seven brooches myself on
Miss Pole's dress. Two were fixed
negligently in her cap (one was a butterfly made
of Scotch pebbles, which a vivid imagination
might believe to be the real insect); one
fastened her net neck-kerchief; one her
collar: one ornamented the front of her
gown, midway between her throat and waist;
and another adorned the point of her
stomacher. Where the seventh was I have
forgotten, but it was somewhere about her, I am
sure.

But I am getting on too fast, in describing
the dresses of the company. I should first
relate the gathering, on the way to Mrs.
Jamieson's. That lady lived in a large house
just outside the town. A road, which had
known what it was to be a street, ran right
before the house, which opened out upon it,
without any intervening garden or court.
Whatever the sun was about, he never shone
on the front of that house. To be sure, the
living-rooms were at the back, looking on to
a pleasant garden; the front windows only
belonged to kitchens and housekeeper's rooms,
and pantries; and in one of them Mr.
Mulliner was reported to sit. Indeed, looking
askance, we often saw the back of a head,
covered with hair-powder, which also
extended itself over his coat-collar down to his
very waist; and this imposing back was
always engaged in reading the " St. James's
Chronicle," opened wide, which, in some
degree, accounted for the length of time the
said newspaper was in reaching us—equal
subscribers with Mrs. Jamieson, though, in
right of her honourableness, she always had
the reading of it first. This very Tuesday, the
delay in forwarding the last number had been
particularly aggravating; just when both Miss
Pole and Miss Matey, the former more
especially, had been wanting to see it, in order to
coach up the court-news, ready for the
evening's interview with aristocracy. Miss Pole
told us she had absolutely taken time by the
fore-lock, and been dressed by five o'clock, in
order to be ready, if the " St. James's
Chronicle" should come in at the last moment,—
the very " St. James's Chronicle " which the
powdered-head was tranquilly and composedly
reading as we passed the accustomed window
this evening.

"The impudence of the man! " said
Miss Pole, in a low indignant whisper. " I
should like to ask him, whether his
mistress pays her quarter-share for his exclusive
use."

We looked at her in admiration of the
courage of her thought; for Mr. Mulliner
was an object of great awe to all of us. He
seemed never to have forgotten his
condescension in coming to live at Cranford. Miss
Jenkyns, at times, had stood forth as the
undaunted champion of her sex, and spoken
to him on terms of equality; but even Miss
Jenkyns could get no higher. In his
pleasantest and most gracious moods, he looked
like a sulky cockatoo. He did not speak
except in gruff monosyllables. He would
wait in the hall when we begged him not to
wait, and then look deeply offended because
we had kept him there, while, with trembling,
hasty hands, we prepared ourselves for appearing
in company. Miss Pole ventured on a
small joke as we went up-stairs, intended,
though addressed to us, to afford Mr.
Mulliner some slight amusement. We all smiled,
in order to seem as if we felt at our ease,
and timidly looked for Mr. Mulliner's
sympathy. Not a muscle of that wooden
face had relaxed; and we were grave in an
instant.

Mrs. Jamieson's drawing-room was cheerful;
the evening sun came streaming into it,
and the large square window was clustered
round with flowers. The furniture was white
and gold; not the later style, Louis Quatorze
I think they call it, all shells and twirls; no.
Mrs. Jamieson's chairs and tables had not a
curve or bend about them. The chair and
table legs diminished as they neared the ground,
and were straight and square in all their
corners. The chairs were all a-row against
the walls, with the exception of four or five
which stood in a circle round the fire. They
were railed with white bars across the back,
and knobbed with gold; neither the railings
nor the knobs invited to ease. There was
a japanned table devoted to literature, on
which lay a Bible, a Peerage, and a Prayer-
Book. There was another square Pembroke
table dedicated to the Fine Arts, on which
there was a kaleidoscope, conversation-cards,
puzzle-cards (tied together to an interminable
length with faded pink satin ribbon), and a