Many thanks to everyone for the interest, the reviews, feedback, and support.
Any verse quoted here is, as far as I know, safely in the public domain, but that ought not to stop you from buying your next book of poetry, and I leave it to the reader to determine who is better informed, Captain Brown or Miss Pole.
Chapter 10: The Gordons Entertain
"Carter! Mr. Carter!"
Imagine that. His first evening home in Cranford, and someone was already shouting after him as he navigated the street.
"There you are, Carter! Oh, it's good to see you, and looking so well!" cried Dr. Morgan, rushing up to shake his hand. Morgan was in fine form himself, having shed his old-fashioned doctor's wig and coat for nattier attire, and by his side was Mrs. Rose, out of widow's weeds now and looking a good deal brighter herself. So this is what Morgan meant by "pleasant company." Well, well, well.
"Thank you, Dr. Morgan. Good evening, Mrs. Rose." Mr. Carter removed his hat.
"Good evening, Mr. Carter. How delightful to see you've returned! We'd begun to fear that London had quite stolen you away from us."
"Oh, Mrs. Rose, I can assure you that my heart is and always will be in Cheshire, and there's little that could keep me away for long."
"Talking of hearts, Carter, I'm happy to tell you that ours have not been idle while you were away," said Dr. Morgan, looking extremely pleased with himself. "Mrs. Rose has consented to become my wife."
It had been worth saying it, thought Morgan, just to see the look on Carter's face. But it was perfectly true. One marriage had followed another in Cranford this particular year, and there was no evidence the epidemic would cease any time soon! And happily, there was no means of inoculating against it, either…
"Then let me wish you joy, madam, and congratulate you, Dr. Morgan," said Mr. Carter, when he was able to speak. "I must confess no one gave me a hint in any correspondence I received in London."
Dr. Morgan laughed. "And no one thought to print it in the newspapers, eh? Well, we must have a good talk when you have the leisure. There's so much I'd like to ask you about your meetings in London, and of course you need to hear all our news – but we've already told you quite enough for one evening. Do come see me, Carter."
"That I will, Dr. Morgan."
Manchester
Tuesday morning
My dear Carter:
What splendid news it was to hear you had turned up among us again, and that your trip to London was a success. I shall be looking forward to hearing your account of the journey when we meet again in Cranford.
Speaking of which, I wish to take this opportunity to extend an invitation. You know that my Jessie recently wed, and that when she and the major went to church, it was a very quiet celebration. But there is no reason why the new-married couple should not entertain our good and loyal neighbors, and so the three of us wish to have a small party, Saturday week, to be precise. A very simple affair, mind you – just some refreshments and an evening in good company, with music and so forth. I would be very pleased if you would join us. Do say you'll come.
With best regards,
H. Brown
It was a curious thing, thought Miss Galindo, that Mrs. Gordon had come specially to the shop to see her that afternoon. Jessie Brown had never been one of her clients; the captain's modest means and famous frugality had meant no new bonnets for the late Miss Brown and her sister, and Jessie's contact with Miss Galindo had been confined to a greeting after church of a Sunday, or perhaps a brief conversation in the street.
But this afternoon, Jessie, now Mrs. Gordon, had appeared in the shop to make a most unexpected announcement. After they had exchanged pleasantries, and Miss Galindo had inquired after the captain and the major, Jessie had shyly presented her plan.
"As you know, Miss Galindo, the major and I are not long married, and Father was grieved he could not host a grand wedding. My husband and I tried to persuade him that we were content as we were; that the vows we had exchanged were what mattered, not a wedding breakfast! But all three of us – my father, my husband, and myself – did agree that we would like to gather some of our friends and neighbors in our home for a small party, and so we have planned one a week from Saturday. We should very much like you to join us."
It was most surprising, this invitation. Miss Galindo was not a near neighbor, and although she was on cordial terms with the captain, she had seen very little of the Gordons. Still, with this sweet, shy young woman standing before her, there was only one reply she could make.
"With pleasure, Mrs. Gordon. I would be delighted to come."
"Are you fond of reading, Miss Galindo? I mean of course not only prayer book and the edifying essay, but reading out of sheer joy."
Miss Galindo was surprised that Captain Brown addressed the question at her. He was so blunt.
"Why, yes, when I've the leisure to do it, I do enjoy reading."
"What do you like best to read, then? I'll wager you're fonder of verse than of prose, Miss Galindo. Would I be right in that?"
Miss Galindo smiled. "Your impressions are correct, Captain Brown. I do take great pleasure in poetry."
"Capital! Might we prevail upon you to read for us later this evening?"
Now Miss Galindo was thoroughly embarrassed, though only too willing to forgive Captain Brown, given his kindness. So she smiled and replied, "Really, Captain Brown, I'm certain there are others more suited to the task –"
"Task? But surely it would give us all such pleasure. You have a delightfully musical voice. Do say you will read for us."
"Then I will not refuse." She had gone very pink.
On this particular Saturday evening Captain Brown's modest sitting room was crowded with people as it rarely had been. Miss Matty Jenkyns, unable to refuse an invitation from her neighbor Captain Brown, had come to the party, bringing along her brother, Peter, and of course Miss Mary Smith. Jessie had invited her friend Miss Pole, unofficially the eyes and ears of Cranford, to join them. And most unusually, Edward Carter, just returned from London, was also in attendance.
Miss Pole, for all her macabre fascination with Dr. Harrison's medical practice, had proved uncharacteristically reticent concerning Mr. Carter's accident, surgery, and recuperation, and always kept a safe distance from the gentleman himself, as though amputations were something catching. And so it was that Mr. Carter found himself seated between Miss Galindo and Miss Smith, with Miss Matty just beyond.
"I do hope you will play for us this evening, Mrs. Gordon," Miss Matty was saying to Jessie.
"I will, if my husband will sing."
At this Miss Matty fairly clapped her hands. "If your husband will sing. Ah, how I wish Deborah were here among us again." Turning to Peter, she said, "I never saw Deborah so delighted as when Miss Jessie, as she was then, played the spinet as the major sang. What was that you sang that first evening, Major Gordon? I mean the song my sister so enjoyed, the one that set her tapping the rhythm on her saucer."
"I believe that was 'Loch Lomond,' Miss Matty," said the major. Then, with a kindly smile: "Perhaps, then, in remembrance of Miss Jenkyns, I'd best sing another Scots tune." He whispered to Jessie, who had by now seated herself at the spinet, and she selected a piece of music from her collection. With a glance towards her husband, she gently touched the keys, and they began "John Anderson, My Jo."
The major was singing in Scots dialect, to which only Jessie and Captain Brown were really accustomed. Still, his other listeners needed no tutoring; they could certainly recognize a love song, and respond with appropriately wistful smiles. The applause was heartfelt, too, when the major had concluded.
Rather unusually, Miss Galindo was the first to speak. "I do not know that song, Major Gordon, but it is certainly well-chosen. Very lovely, though I confess I didn't understand all of the text."
"It's by Robert Burns, Miss, and I too have always found it beautiful." The major continued, "It's a woman's address to her sweetheart, you see -- not when they are first courting, though, but after they've loved each other many years." And he involuntarily glanced over at Jessie, who beamed back at him.
"Ah, yes, many years --" began Captain Brown.
But at that moment Miss Matty was quietly wiping away sudden tears, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Miss Pole, Miss Smith, and Miss Galindo. The first two ladies knew Miss Matty's history, what memory had moved her to weep, whereas Miss Galindo only recognized the delicacy of the moment. But it was she who first sought merciful distraction.
"One thinks, for instance, of the story of Jacob and Rachel in the Bible, and how he worked to win her hand, and how the years of labor seemed brief to him, given his devotion," began Miss Galindo.
"Jacob?" said Captain Brown. "Eh, Miss Galindo, true enough, but did not Jacob also wed Rachel's sister, and as well take two other women, and sire a multitude of sons, at that? Now there's a complicated story, even if it is Holy Scripture" –
"Captain Brown, you are most provoking!" shrieked Miss Pole, forgetting for a moment Miss Matty's tears. "I am sure that if we consulted Reverend Hutton, he would assure us no such account is to be found in the Word of God. Men with harems! Most shocking –"
At this Peter Jenkyns exploded with laughter
Even Miss Galindo could not suppress a smile. "Poor Major and Mrs. Gordon! See how soon your music is forgotten while we quarrel about Scripture?"
"Or the faithfulness of men," added Mary Smith.
"Or the practice of polygamy." No one had expected Mr. Carter to speak, nor to assume such a matter-of-fact expression in discussing a provocative subject. All peace was therefore at an end, as the men roared with laughter and the women giggled.
By the time they had composed themselves, and finished wiping their eyes for an entirely new reason, someone thought to ask Mrs. Gordon to play for them once again. This time the major gallantly suggested that perhaps one of the ladies might favor the party with a song, but one by one the women refused, and when he made the same request to the men, they proved equally resistant.
"Very well. I know my duty." He leaned over, whispered in Jessie's ear once again, and then turned to face his audience once more.
"My love is like a red, red rose…"
More Robert Burns, and that's just as it should be, thought Captain Brown. The ladies will certainly like it. Doesn't the major sound well tonight!
Unaccustomed to parties, particularly on such an intimate scale, Mr. Carter was cultivating what he hoped was an interested expression, and offering a slight smile when anyone caught his eye.
"As fair thou art, my bonnie lass, so deep in love am I…"
Mr. Carter didn't look particularly comfortable, thought Miss Galindo, and she wondered whether he regretted his decision to accept the captain's invitation. The responsibilities of the estate lay so heavily on him, now that he had returned from his journey, and he'd been so determined to overtake the work he had been forced to leave undone, that she had barely seen anything of him since his return. Indeed, they had hardly exchanged a word between themselves.
"And I will come again, my love,
Though it were ten thousand mile!"
At this song's conclusion, Miss Matty was no less moved than before. But this time she had resolved to master her emotions, or at least their display, and resolutely led the applause. "Quite beautiful, Major," she sighed, smiling, though the tears still glistened in her eyes.
But her brother too was visibly touched. "Well done, Major," said Mr. Jenkyns softly, then reached over to squeeze his sister's hand.
When the major and his wife had finished their song, most of the party repaired to the refreshment table – with Miss Pole protesting all the way that she simply ought not to have cake, then accepting first one slice, then another – leaving Miss Galindo and Mr. Carter to themselves, if briefly.
"You do not approve of the music, Mr. Carter?" she whispered.
"What? No, no, Major Gordon has a very fine voice indeed, and sounds well with Mrs. Gordon's accompaniment. But an evening's entertainment such as this is quite rare for me, you see, and I find I know so little of music."
"I confess I am not astonished to hear you say that, Mr. Carter. Your devotion to your work surely allows little time for indulgence in artistic pleasures of any sort." She had put a most unsettling emphasis on the word pleasures, but her expression was innocent enough – yes, that deceptively mild look he had often seen her wear when she was constructing some argument. "I suppose even Lady Ludlow's collection of pictures and sculpture is as alien to you as Major Gordon's Scottish songs. But you are of a practical bent, and perhaps could find better uses for paint, wood, canvas, and stone."
"That is neither true nor fair, Miss Galindo. Firstly, it is not for me to approve or disapprove of my lady's possessions. Secondly, I can see the value of a painting and of a sculpture, and found time to enjoy both in London."
"Indeed?"
"Oh, yes. When I was not keeping appointments, I visited the National Gallery, and as well some of the architectural wonders of London." But that pleasure had been nothing compared to the satisfaction now of genuinely astonishing Miss Galindo, he thought.
Then he smiled, leaned towards her, and said, in a whisper, "Mr. Beckett accompanied me on one or two of those excursions, though I suspect it was more an act of charity than enthusiasm."
Miss Galindo smiled. Poor Anthony! Yes, she could well envision what had happened…
"But you are an artist yourself, Miss Galindo, and surely have seen more pictures, more statues, more cathedrals than I have ever beheld."
"I merely draw and paint, Mr. Carter, and do not consider myself an artist by any means! But I have indeed been to many a gallery, museum, and church, in various cities."
"In England, Miss Galindo? Or perhaps abroad?"
"Well, I have been to London, Mr. Carter, and to the National Gallery, as you have, but my happiest memory is of accompanying my parents to the continent." Smiling to herself, she continued, "I was but 17 then. My mother and especially my father were determined that I should understand something of great art, and consequently led me through Burgundy and Bavaria, Tuscany and Umbria, and many other places besides, in pursuit of beauty. Oh, how my mother and I laughed to see my father peering through his spectacles at a statue or fresco, and holding forth seriously and breathlessly, as if he'd never have time enough to explain to us how Saint Francis was rendered on an Italian wall, or Saint Catherine carved for a niche in a German cathedral!" She paused suddenly, her eyes filling with tears.
"Go on, Miss Galindo," said Mr. Carter gently.
She would not meet his eye, but spoke softly yet clearly. "We did not realize my father was entirely correct. There was not time enough."
At that moment Miss Matty returned to them and settled herself in beside Mr. Carter. "Do not let me disturb your conversation. Pray go on with what you were discussing."
"We were talking of our travels, Miss Matty. As you know, Mr. Carter has lately returned from London."
"Oh, yes, Mr. Carter, how wonderful it is that you have come back to us! I must say I have had quite enough of people leaving Cranford. But you know, of course" – and Miss Matty dropped her voice – "that Major and Mrs. Gordon are going to Scotland in the new year, and Captain Brown will be quite alone. I am happy for the Gordons – the major has inherited some property, you see – but I do not know how the captain shall bear it."
"I am sure Captain Brown will value the company of his friends and neighbors all the more, though they cannot take the place of a daughter," observed Miss Galindo.
"No indeed," said Miss Matty. "And of course it was not long ago that he lost Miss Brown. Oh, dear!"
"Come now, Miss Matty," murmured Miss Galindo. "Do not distress yourself. You know the captain's temperament. He is more likely to raise our spirits than to allow his own to be dampened."
"He is a good soul, to be sure. Mind you, my sister never knew what to make of his manners! But he always has been a valuable neighbor." Miss Matty sighed, then said, as briskly as she could manage, "Well, when Jessie and the major have departed for Scotland, the captain will have Peter and myself and of course dear Mary for friends, as well as your own good selves, so perhaps he'll not be so very lonely."
The evening had been an experiment of sorts, and Mr. Carter was tempted to pronounce it a success. If he still felt a bit self-conscious in company, even among such a small group, at least there had been the compensatory pleasures of music, conversation, storytelling and poetry. Mrs. Gordon had played, Major Gordon had sung, and then Peter Jenkyns had told a few stories of India, proving quite the raconteur, and quite shocking Miss Pole in the process.
Afterwards Captain Brown had cajoled Miss Galindo to read a few poems aloud –- "Something cheerful, mind you; we want nothing gloomy this fine evening! -- and had been delighted when she agreed. Then she had passed the book to Mr. Carter, as if that were the natural order of things, and so he too had read aloud to the company – willingly, for the volume of verse, like everything in Mrs. Gordon's modest library, had been chosen with taste and with care, and his audience was most receptive.
Perhaps Miss Galindo was right; there were too few such pleasures in his life. He'd given himself wholly to the demands of work, to the exclusion of nearly all else – all else but the loneliness that had followed him up and down the years.
Added to that was the self-consciousness he now felt, the dread of probing questions or pitying looks. He had very nearly stayed home this evening. Strange, wasn't it, that he had to be stern with himself just to keep a social engagement!
But whatever awkwardness he felt at the beginning had given way as the evening unfolded in a series of revelations and vignettes – the Gordons' duets, Miss Matty's fretting, Miss Pole's pronouncements, even Miss Galindo and her memories – though now he had to recall that they had never really finished their conversation.
And there had been another surprise as well. Captain Brown had been extraordinarily attentive to Miss Galindo throughout the evening. He had taken pains to discover the lady's tastes and interests -- and, if not diplomatic in doing so, was at least remarkably efficient, learning in a few hours what Mr. Carter had required years of acquaintance to discover – and was bold with the compliments and teasing as well. And the captain had taken the seat next to Miss Galindo for much of the evening. Mr. Carter, who'd been on her other side, had noticed that too.
As for Miss Galindo, while she had blushed very prettily at Brown's compliments, she hadn't exactly encouraged him, at least to Carter's unpracticed eye. It was not that she'd been impolite – she was clearly too well bred and too sensitive for that – but she'd always sought to advance the conversation past embarrassing topics, whatever form they took. And there had been embarrassing topics; Captain Brown had seen to that. It was a strange way to behave, thought Mr. Carter, unless Captain Brown was –
Good God, he could not be thinking of that.
It could not be so. Brown wouldn't marry again, not with his modest income, and if he did go seeking a wife, it would not be Laurentia Galindo. And surely the lady would not have him if he --
But as if presenting its case before a magistrate, another voice in Mr. Carter's mind protested at that. No, perhaps she would have him. Perhaps she simply liked him. The captain was a tremendously fine fellow, very kind, and the word in Cranford was that he was genuinely heroic as well. He had saved Charles Maulver's life back in the day, or so the story went. Valor, kindness – perhaps that would win the heart of the lady, and one day when he came home from Manchester, she would be waiting --
Good God, he must not think these things. He must not.
It was most unusual, Miss Galindo thought, that she should meet with Mr. Carter during an evening party. But then, he and Captain Brown had become fast friends over the past months, and perhaps it was not so very strange that Mr. Carter should be welcomed as a guest in the captain's home.
And if Mr. Carter had displayed no marked enthusiasm for the music, it was quite another matter when he consented to read aloud to them. That had gone down very well, Miss Galindo thought. Mr. Carter read poetry with great sensitivity and warmth – most astonishing, when she had been used to hearing him give instructions, requests, even commands. Brusque, severe, practical Mr. Carter reading verse? But it was so, and he had a pleasing voice too, a very pleasing voice.
And there had been other revelations as well -- Mr. Carter's interest in art, for instance, had astonished her, though now she recalled they'd not had a chance to pursue it, not properly, as Miss Matty had returned in the middle of their tête-à-tête.
One thing that had puzzled her, though, was the marked degree of attention Captain Brown had paid to her throughout the evening – the compliments, the entreaties, the teasing. She'd rather hoped no one else had noticed, but there was little chance of that, given how often she'd felt herself blushing.
Well, she and the captain had been on friendly terms for some time, and perhaps he thought the attention might make her feel welcome. But somehow she couldn't forget how worried Miss Matty had been about Jessie's imminent departure, and the prospect of a lonely, bereft Captain Brown.
To be continued...