Captain Brown had taken a small house on the outskirts of the town, where he lived with his two daughters.  He must have been upwards of sixty at the time of the first visit I paid to Cranford after I had left it as a residence.  But he had a wiry, well-trained, elastic figure, a stiff military throw-back of his head, and a springing step, which made him appear much younger than he was.  His eldest daughter looked almost as old as himself, and betrayed the fact that his real was more than his apparent age.  Miss Brown must have been forty; she had a sickly, pained, careworn expression on her face, and looked as if the gaiety of youth had long faded out of sight.  Even when young she must have been plain and hard-featured.  Miss Jessie Brown was ten years younger than her sister, and twenty shades prettier.  Her face was round and dimpled.  Miss Jenkyns once said, in a passion against Captain Brown (the cause of which I will tell you presently), “that she thought it was time for Miss Jessie to leave off her dimples, and not always to be trying to look like a child.”  It was true there was something childlike in her face; and there will be, I think, till she dies, though she should live to a hundred.  Her eyes were large blue wondering eyes, looking straight at you; her nose was unformed and snub, and her lips were red and dewy; she wore her hair, too, in little rows of curls, which heightened this appearance.  I do not know whether she was pretty or not; but I liked her face, and so did everybody, and I do not think she could help her dimples.  She had something of her father’s jauntiness of gait and manner; and any female observer might detect a slight difference in the attire of the two sisters—­ that of Miss Jessie being about two pounds per annum more expensive than Miss Brown’s.  Two pounds was a large sum in Captain Brown’s annual disbursements.

Such was the impression made upon me by the Brown family when I first saw them all together in Cranford Church.  The Captain I had met before—­on the occasion of the smoky chimney, which he had cured by some simple alteration in the flue.  In church, he held his double eye-glass to his eyes during the Morning Hymn, and then lifted up his head erect and sang out loud and joyfully.  He made the responses louder than the clerk—­an old man with a piping feeble voice, who, I think, felt aggrieved at the Captain’s sonorous bass, and quivered higher and higher in consequence.

On coming out of church, the brisk Captain paid the most gallant attention to his two daughters.

He nodded and smiled to his acquaintances; but he shook hands with none until he had helped Miss Brown to unfurl her umbrella, had relieved her of her prayer-book, and had waited patiently till she, with trembling nervous hands, had taken up her gown to walk through the wet roads.