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We began to talk of Miss Matty's new silk gown. I discovered that
it would be really the first time in her life that she had had to
choose anything of consequence for herself: for Miss Jenkyns had
always been the more decided character, whatever her taste might
have been; and it is astonishing how such people carry the world
before them by the mere force of will. Miss Matty anticipated the
sight of the glossy folds with as much delight as if the five
sovereigns, set apart for the purchase, could buy all the silks in
the shop; and (remembering my own loss of two hours in a toyshop
before I could tell on what wonder to spend a silver threepence) I
was very glad that we were going early, that dear Miss Matty might
have leisure for the delights of perplexity.
If a happy sea-green could be met with, the gown was to be sea-green:
if not, she inclined to maize, and I to silver gray; and we
discussed the requisite number of breadths until we arrived at the
shop-door. We were to buy the tea, select the silk, and then
clamber up the iron corkscrew stairs that led into what was once a
loft, though now a fashion show-room.
The young men at Mr Johnson's had on their best looks; and their
best cravats, and pivoted themselves over the counter with
surprising activity. They wanted to show us upstairs at once; but
on the principle of business first and pleasure afterwards, we
stayed to purchase the tea. Here Miss Matty's absence of mind
betrayed itself. If she was made aware that she had been drinking
green tea at any time, she always thought it her duty to lie awake
half through the night afterward (I have known her take it in
ignorance many a time without such effects), and consequently green
tea was prohibited the house; yet to-day she herself asked for the
obnoxious article, under the impression that she was talking about
the silk. However, the mistake was soon rectified; and then the
silks were unrolled in good truth. By this time the shop was
pretty well filled, for it was Cranford market-day, and many of the
farmers and country people from the neighbourhood round came in,
sleeking down their hair, and glancing shyly about, from under
their eyelids, as anxious to take back some notion of the unusual
gaiety to the mistress or the lasses at home, and yet feeling that
they were out of place among the smart shopmen and gay shawls and
summer prints. One honest-looking man, however, made his way up to
the counter at which we stood, and boldly asked to look at a shawl
or two. The other country folk confined themselves to the grocery
side; but our neighbour was evidently too full of some kind
intention towards mistress, wife or daughter, to be shy; and it
soon became a question with me, whether he or Miss Matty would keep
their shopmen the longest time. He thought each shawl more
beautiful than the last; and, as for Miss Matty, she smiled and
sighed over each fresh bale that was brought out; one colour set
off another, and the heap together would, as she said, make even
the rainbow look poor.
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