“What do you think, Miss Matty?  What do you think?  Lady Glenmire is to marry—­is to be married, I mean—­Lady Glenmire—­Mr Hoggins—­ Mr Hoggins is going to marry Lady Glenmire!”

“Marry!” said we.  “Marry!  Madness!”

“Marry!” said Miss Pole, with the decision that belonged to her character. “I said marry! as you do; and I also said, ’What a fool my lady is going to make of herself!’ I could have said ‘Madness!’ but I controlled myself, for it was in a public shop that I heard of it.  Where feminine delicacy is gone to, I don’t know!  You and I, Miss Matty, would have been ashamed to have known that our marriage was spoken of in a grocer’s shop, in the hearing of shopmen!”

“But,” said Miss Matty, sighing as one recovering from a blow, “perhaps it is not true.  Perhaps we are doing her injustice.”

“No,” said Miss Pole.  “I have taken care to ascertain that.  I went straight to Mrs Fitz-Adam, to borrow a cookery-book which I knew she had; and I introduced my congratulations a propos of the difficulty gentlemen must have in house-keeping; and Mrs Fitz-Adam bridled up, and said that she believed it was true, though how and where I could have heard it she did not know.  She said her brother and Lady Glenmire had come to an understanding at last.  ‘Understanding!’ such a coarse word!  But my lady will have to come down to many a want of refinement.  I have reason to believe Mr Hoggins sups on bread-and-cheese and beer every night.

“Marry!” said Miss Matty once again.  “Well!  I never thought of it.  Two people that we know going to be married.  It’s coming very near!”

“So near that my heart stopped beating when I heard of it, while you might have counted twelve,” said Miss Pole.

“One does not know whose turn may come next.  Here, in Cranford, poor Lady Glenmire might have thought herself safe,” said Miss Matty, with a gentle pity in her tones.

“Bah!” said Miss Pole, with a toss of her head.  “Don’t you remember poor dear Captain Brown’s song ‘Tibbie Fowler,’ and the line —

’Set her on the Tintock tap,
The wind will blaw a man till her.’”

“That was because ‘Tibbie Fowler’ was rich, I think.”

“Well! there was a kind of attraction about Lady Glenmire that I, for one, should be ashamed to have.”

I put in my wonder.  “But how can she have fancied Mr Hoggins?  I am not surprised that Mr Hoggins has liked her.”

“Oh!  I don’t know.  Mr Hoggins is rich, and very pleasant-looking,” said Miss Matty, “and very good-tempered and kind-hearted.”