chapter-4

Chapter four. News of robberies continued to come. Mr. Hoggins, the doctor had been attacked

and robbed at his door by two men.

"'I am sure that it was that man,' said Miss Pol. The man dressed up in woman's clothes,

the one who came into my house."

"'That's all so terrible,' said Miss Matty.

"'What about Mrs. Forrest's party then?' she asked.

"'Is it safe to go?'

Mrs. Forrest had invited us for tea and card games at five o 'clock that day.

"'The roads might be unsafe,' she had said.

But perhaps one of you could take the sedan chair and the others could walk very quickly beside it.

Her house was on a dark and lonely road just outside town. We did not want to go,

but we thought that it would be unkind to our friend. Miss Matty and Miss Pol finally decided

to be brave and go through darkness lane. When the evening came, we chose to put Miss Matty

into the sedan chair because she had a cold.

"'Whatever happens, please do not run away and leave me in here,' she told the chairman.

"'We arrived at Mrs. Forrest's house safely, but we were all out of breath from the fast walk,

and poor Miss Matty was quite shaken from the ride.

Mrs. Forrest had made lots of preparations. We had our tea and the ladies started playing card games.

Then we began an interesting conversation related to the robberies in Cranford.

Each of the ladies explained their personal fears.

"'I have a fear of eyes,' I said. Eyes looking at me, watching me. I can't look at the mirror in the dark.'

"'Then it was Miss Matty's turn.'

"'I had this fear when I was a little girl,' she said.

"'I used to be afraid of being caught by my leg as I got into bed. I was afraid that there was a

hand under the bed, so I used to jump into bed from a distance. This always annoyed my sister Deborah.

My old fear has returned now, so I told Martha to buy a ball. I roll the ball under the bed every

night, and if it comes out on the other side, I feel safe.'

We all praised Miss Matty for the clever idea.

Then it was Mrs. Forrest's turn to talk about her fear. She was hesitant at first and tried to

change the subject, but we asked her to tell us what frightened her the most. She paused for a while.

"'Ghosts,' she whispered at last. Of course Miss Poll did not believe in ghosts, and she did not

miss the chance to make a scientific explanation. She talked about indigestion,

optical illusions, and other scientific facts. Mrs. Forrest are answered by saying that she believed

in ghosts because they were part of her religion. I could now see the difference between the two

old ladies very clearly. When Jenny the maid came in to bring tea, she told us something else.

"'I've seen a ghost with my own two eyes, mum,' she said, a few nights ago on darkness lane.

It was a lady in white, without a head, sitting by the roadside.'

Listening to Jenny, I believed she had certainly seen something, and not only her, but others

had seen the headless lady too. Mrs. Forrest looked at us as if to say,

"'I told you so.'"

As we prepared to leave Mrs. Forrest's house, we were all quite silent. After all, none of us knew

where the ghost might be. The next day in the afternoon, Miss Poll called on us. She and Lady

Glenmeyer had taken a long walk that morning to find an old woman who made woolen socks.

"'We were about three miles from Cranford,' said Miss Poll. When we realized that we had

lost our way, we stopped at an inn to ask. The landlady was called Mrs. Roberts, as we were

talking to her, a little girl came in. Mrs. Roberts said the girl was the only child of a couple

who was staying in the house. Then she told us a very interesting story. About six weeks ago,

a horse and cart had an accident outside the inn. In it were two men, one woman, and this child.

One of the men was badly hurt. There was a big box in the cart, but Mrs. Roberts did not know what

was in it. The injured man and his wife and daughter have been staying at the inn since then. The other

man was his twin brother, and he left on the horse and cart that day, taking the box with him.

"'You will not believe who the sick man is. It is Signor Brunoni. We met his wife, who is

a nice, honest woman. She told us that his real name is Samuel Brown. When they learned that the

family did not have any money, Miss Poll and Lady Glenmeyer had immediately decided to help them.

Lady Glenmeyer had gone to Mr. Hoggins, the doctor, to ask him to visit the inn that afternoon.

Miss Mattie and I were very excited about the news. We talked about it all evening and went

to bed anxious to hear about it more the next morning. Mr. Hoggins treated the patient,

and after he said that he could be moved, everybody did their best to help the family.

Miss Poll found a clean and comfortable place for them. Miss Mattie sent the sedan chair for him,

and Martha and I cleaned it up before it was carried to the inn. Lady Glenmeyer worked with

Mr. Hoggins and was busy arranging the medicines, spoons and bed tables for the patient, and even

Mrs. Forrester, who was related to the great Sir Walter, helped the family. She made some of her

famous jelly. It was wonderful to see the kindness everybody showed the poor family.

Soon we all forgot our fears. Miss Poll came with her little basket at all hours of the day.

Mrs. Forrester said she was no longer afraid of the headless lady in darkness lane.

Miss Mattie decorated her ball in colored stripes and gave it to Signor Brunone's daughter Phoebe.

That evening, as we sat by the fire, Miss Mattie and I looked at old letters and talked about the past.

Miss Mattie seemed to be thinking. When I was young I wished to be married like any young girl,

she said at last. After a pause she continued,

but I have not told you the truth. I did not think I would be Miss Mattie Jenkins or my life.

I expected to marry one person a long time ago, but he is dead and gone. He never knew why I said

no. I have thought about it many, many times. Well it doesn't matter now. I have such kind friends

and I am very happy now. She took my hand and held it in hers. I could not find something to say.

We sat silently for some time. A few days later I asked Signor Brunone's wife Mrs. Brown about

the story of the twin brothers. It is true, she said. My brother -in -law Thomas looks very much like

my husband Sam. It is very helpful in their profession. But I don't understand how people mistake him

for my husband. Thomas is a very good man and he sent us money to pay the bill at the inn.

But he is not very good at magic tricks. Bessides, he has never been to India,

so he does not know how to wear a turban.

Have you been to India? I asked, surprised. Oh yes, I lived there for many years, mum.

Sam was in the army and when he was sent there I went with him. I could never be away from my

husband. But our life in India was very hard. We lost six children. Yes, six children died in

that cruel India. I almost went mad. And when I was expecting Phoebe, I said to my husband,

Sam, I am going back home. I decided to go to Calcutta and take the ship back to England.

We saved up money and when Phoebe came I set off.

With my baby in my arms I walked through thick forests along the river from village to village.

It was a lonely and difficult journey and the Indian people sometimes gave me rice and milk

and sometimes flowers, one time when my baby was ill, a kind Englishman who lived with the

Indians helped us. And you reached Calcutta safely. Yes, and on the ship back to England

I found a job as a servant to a lady. Two years later Sam came home to us. Years ago he had learned

some tricks from an Indian, so he decided to work as a magician. He was very successful,

so he took on his twin brother Thomas to help him.

Poor little Phoebe, I said. Thinking about the little baby carried all those hundred miles.

Ah, I didn't think she would survive when she fell ill at Chundra Baddad,

but that good kind, Aga Jenkins helped us. I believe he saved her.

Jenkins, I said.

Yes, Jenkins, I think all people with that name are kind. Here is that nice old lady who comes

every day to take Phoebe for a walk. An idea came into my head. Could the Aga Jenkins of Chundra

Badad be Miss Matty's lost brother Peter Jenkins? I decided to collect evidence and show it to my

father. I asked the Cranford ladies some questions, but I did not learn much. Miss Pol told me

something about Peter being the great lama of Tibet. Mrs. Forrester told me Peter was quite handsome,

but then she started talking about cosmetics and hair oils, and then about banks and money.

I kept asking them, when did you hear that Mr. Peter was the great lama? But they started arguing

about whether lamas ate plants or meat. Only one thing was certain the last news of Peter had come

from India. I was busy with my investigation, and probably my friends were also excited about all

my questions, so none of us noticed what was happening around us. Even Miss Pol, who usually had

knowledge about every little event in Cranford, was shocked when she heard the news.

I remember the day clearly. It was not 12 o 'clock yet. Miss Matty and I were sitting in the drawing

room. She was knitting, and I was reading the newspaper. We had been talking about Signor

Brunoni's better health, and saying Mr. Hoggins was a very good doctor. Then there was a knock at the

pole called from downstairs. Don't go. I can't wait. Don't worry about your dress. I must speak to you."

We went back to the drawing room, curious about what Miss Pol had to say.

Mr. Hoggins is going to marry Lady Glenmeyer, she said.

Marry, we said. Marry, I heard it in the grocery shop. I could not believe it.

But perhaps it is not true, said Miss Matty.

It is true. I went straight to Mrs. FitzAdam. She said her brother and Lady Glenmeyer had made a

decision at last. Decision? What a vulgar word. But Lady Glenmeyer will hear many vulgar words.

After all, Mr. Hoggins does not belong to high society.

Marry, said Miss Matty once again. Well, I never thought of it. I'm not surprised that Mr. Hoggins

likes Lady Glenmeyer, I said. But what does she see in him?

Oh, I don't know. Mr. Hoggins is rich and good -looking, said Miss Matty, and he is kind -hearted.

Then we wondered how Mrs. Jamison would take the news. She had gone to Cheltenham with Mr. Mulliner,

and had left Lady Glenmeyer in charge of the house. But now Lady Glenmeyer was going to get married.

And who was the man? Mrs. Jamison thought Mr. Hoggins was a vulgar man who could not

belong to Cranford Society. Had he ever been to the house to see Lady Glenmeyer? Or had they only met

when they were taking care of the poor magician? And what about the wedding? When would it take

place? Where? How much did Mr. Hoggins make? Could the servants in Cranford announce the married

couple as Lady Glenmeyer and Mr. Hoggins? Would anyone visit their home? Would we have to choose

between Mrs. Jamison and Lady Glenmeyer? We all liked Lady Glenmeyer more. She was bright,

kind, and friendly. When I saw her at church the following Sunday, Lady Glenmeyer looked younger

and happier. Mr. Hoggins also looked healthy and bright. He was wearing a brand new pair of boots.

None of the Cranford ladies congratulated the couple. We wanted to wait until Mrs. Jamison

returned from her trip. But keeping quiet was difficult because there were so many questions we

wanted to ask. Thankfully, we forgot about Lady Glenmeyer and Mr. Hoggins for a few weeks

because there was an exciting event. Mr. Johnson the shopkeeper announced that the spring

fashions had arrived and he was going to show them at his shop the following Tuesday.

On the day Mr. Johnson was going to show the spring designs, two letters came to the house.

One was from my father to me. He wrote that he was well, there was a lot of rain and business

was slow. He also asked me if Miss Matty still had shares in the Town and County Bank.

There were unpleasant reports about the bank. Years ago he had warned Miss Jenkins not to put

their money in the bank, but she had not listened to him. Who is your letter from my dear? Asked Miss Matty?

Miners from the Town and County Bank, they are inviting me to an important meeting of the

shareholders in Drumble on Thursday. I was worried when I heard of the important meeting.

I was afraid that my father was right, but I believed bad news always came fast so I did not

say anything to Miss Matty. I only told her that my father was well and sent his best wishes.

I wanted to change the topic. What time should we go and see the spring collection? I asked.

Well my dear, the right time is after twelve, but then all Cranford will be there, and it is

uncomfortable to be shopping with all the world looking at you. So let's go in the morning after

breakfast. We can go upstairs and look at the dresses when it is quiet, and we can choose a

style for my new silk dress. The young men who worked at Mr Johnson's were dressed in their best

clothes. We went upstairs and started looking at the silks. Soon the shop was quite crowded

because it was Market Day at Cranford, and many farmers and country people from the

neighborhood came. An honest looking man stood next to us and asked to see some shawls for his wife.

He could not make up his mind, he thought each shawl he looked at was more beautiful than the

all so beautiful, she said. I will choose one, and then I will wish I had chosen another one.

I wish I could have a dress for every season, which should I choose my dear?

The man finally chose a shawl. Happily he held out a five pound note.

The shop boy looked at it with a puzzled face.

Town and County Bank, he said. So we were warned this morning not to accept notes from this bank.

I will go and ask Mr Johnson, sir. The poor farmer looked shocked.

How is that possible, he said? Miss Matty had forgotten her silk dress.

Which bank was it? Which bank did your note belong to? Town and County Bank.

The shop boy came back. Mr Johnson is very sorry Mr Dobson, he said, but the bank's notes are worthless.

I don't understand, said Miss Matty to me in a low voice. That is our bank, isn't it? The Town

and County Bank. Yes, this lilac silk will match your new cap, I said, wishing that the man would

go away. Miss Matty gently put her hand on mine. Never mind the silk steer, she said.

She turned to the shop boy. I don't understand. Is this a fake note? Oh, no, ma 'am. It is a real

note, but there are reports that the bank is going to fail. Mr Dobson looked shocked.

He was looking at the note in his hand. There's nothing to be done, he said. You must take back

the shawl, my man. Suddenly Miss Matty turned to him. I will give you five pound coins for your note,

my good man, she said. There must be some mistake. I am one of the shareholders of the bank,

and I have not been told about any problems. The shop boy whispered across the table to Miss Matty.

She looked at him. I don't understand business, she said. If honest people are going to lose their

money because they have our notes, I can't explain myself. She looked around and saw several people

looking at her. She turned to the farmer. Please take this money and buy that shawl for your wife.

The man looked at her gratefully. After a pause he said, I don't want to take your money,

but five pounds is a lot of money to a man with a family. Please take it, repeated Miss Matty,

as she pushed the gold coins towards the man who slowly put down his note. I will wait for a few

days before I buy the silk, she said to the shop boy. Then we went upstairs to see the new styles.

Miss Matty looked at the dresses with excitement and did not seem upset by what had happened earlier.

When we went back downstairs, the shopkeeper Mr. Johnson was waiting for us. He had heard about,

had happened. The bank is in serious trouble, he said. I knew that he was trying to be kind,

but it was thoughtless to say that. Miss Matty did not look surprised,

perhaps she did not believe him, or perhaps she was hiding her feelings.

The Cranford ladies thought it was vulgar to show surprise or disappointment in a public place.

We walked home very silently. In the afternoon we talked about the silks and the dresses,

but we did not speak about the bank note, but I was too curious. I could not control myself and

suddenly asked her, Miss Matty, is it your duty to pay people with gold coins in exchange for

the bank's notes? I regretted it the moment I said it. She looked at me sadly and did not speak for a

few minutes. Finally she said, my dear, I'm not strong -minded like Deborah. When I face a problem,

I usually don't know the right thing to do, but this morning I knew the right thing to do.

At dinner we did not eat much. We tried to talk cheerfully about other things. Later in the drawing

room Miss Matty went to her desk and began to look at the documents of the bank. I was very sorry

about what I had said earlier, so I left her alone. When she finished working on the papers,

she came and sat next to me by the fire. I held her hand. She sat there, not speaking. At last,

she said, if that bank fails, I will lose $149 a year. I will only have $13 a year.

I squeezed her hand. I did not know what to say. I could not see her face because it was too dark,

but I could hear her crying. I am glad poor Deborah is not here to see this, she said.

This was all she said about the sister who had put their money in that bank.

We sat there in the dark silently and sadly for some time. But after tea we lit the candle,

picked up our knitting and started talking about Lady Glen Meyers engagement to Mr. Hoggins.

Miss Matty was beginning to think it was a good thing. I know it is difficult to have

men in a house, but they know what to do in difficulties. And that is important. Lady Glen

Meyers will have a home and pleasant and kind people like Miss Poll and Mrs. Forrester.

And Mr. Hoggins is really a very nice man. He may be a country man, but I know some clever,

loving and honest people who are not from good society. She worked on her knitting silently.

I knew she was thinking about Mr. Holbrook, so I did not interrupt her. I had a plan that

I had had in my mind for some time. That night, after Miss Matty went to bed,

I lit the candle again and wrote a letter to the Arga Jenkins. The next morning news came that the

town and county bank had gone bankrupt. Miss Matty had lost all her money. She tried to speak quietly

to me, and she could not hold her tears. I am not crying for myself, dear, she said.

Many poor people have less than I do. Poor Martha, I think she'll be sorry to leave me.

She smiled at me through her tears. She wanted me to see only the smile, not the tears.