A Woman Who Noticed Things

The invitation, extended by the captain on Sunday following divine services, had been most unexpected. For all that Sir Charles Maulver himself had called upon the Browns almost at the instant of their arrival in Cranford, it had remained rare that the family received company.

They were as well deep in mourning, yet it should be no slight to the memory of Miss Brown to entertain a visitor, especially one long acquainted with the family. Major Gordon's arrival in the village should attract the ladies' notice and perhaps excite speculation, but not opprobrium.

So it was that the Misses Jenkyns and Mary Smith accepted Captain Brown's hospitality without compunction, and with pleasure. Indeed it was to prove a most enjoyable evening and, for Deborah, an enlightening one as well.

~.O.~

Captain Brown greeted them with his usual warmth and vigor, while his more reserved daughter offered the proper reverence. When Jessie smiled, however, it was not with cold formality but in sincere friendship, and if the black gown she was wearing still must heighten her pallor, it could not conceal her sweetness of expression. Once again Deborah contemplated how greatly their young neighbor resembled Matilda in nature, if not in coloring.

And like Matilda long ago, Jessie had attracted a suitor - and was quite conscious of Major Gordon's intentions, Deborah suspected, though too modest to reveal as much before company. Indeed it pained one to see the expression in the young woman's eyes, not sorrowful in itself but redolent of tender emotions that should remain unacknowledged.

Yet if the gentleman was not at liberty to speak, nor Jessie to reveal their attachment, Deborah was resolved to render such assistance as remained within her power. Thus she gently interrogated the major, and parried with Captain Brown, who would persist in interposing himself between daughter and guest.

Despite these obstacles, and the brevity of their acquaintance, Miss Jenkyns was able to take a measure of the visitor, and come away with a favorable impression. Major Gordon's manners were entirely satisfactory, indeed far superior to what one might expect from a soldier, and his conversation gave every evidence of both good sense and a warm heart.

It seemed most unlikely that such a man would trifle with Jessie. Possibly the only barriers to the union, then, were the young woman's shyness and the father's blindness, for it was evident that the captain had not the least notion what was occurring in his own sitting-room. The late Mrs. Brown had to have been a woman of uncommon patience to have borne with a husband who, despite a kind nature and many charitable impulses, so sorely wanted insight and imagination.

And Deborah was forced to wonder again at the wisdom of granting men any measure of responsibility in creating matches when they so frequently proved wretchedly inept.

~.O.~

But if Captain Brown had commanded a hundred men, and shown valor enough to place Sir Charles Maulver in his debt, his surviving daughter possessed her own style of courage. It had been no small thing to attend Miss Brown during her final illness, or to arrange the funeral and, at considerable risk to reputation, serve as chief mourner.

Following a night's prayerful consideration, Deborah had formed the decision to accompany Jessie on the journey to the churchyard. Now, upon this happier occasion, she might again perform an office of friendship, and so it was that she proposed the musical entertainment. If nothing else, it should furnish the lovers with a useful occupation while they were unable to speak freely.

It was not, however, in Jessie's nature to draw attention to herself, and her hesitancy came very near to thwarting Deborah's entire stratagem. Fortunately for all of them, Major Gordon not only embraced the plan with alacrity but selected a fitting tune, "Loch Lomond." Jessie could not refuse his request, and made her best effort, though it was evident that of the two, the major possessed the greater gift for music. Yet from the look that passed between them during their duet Deborah could see that he found no fault with either Jessie's playing or singing, and remained devoted to her still, however long circumstances had parted them.

~.O.~

Matilda observed the selfsame performance but divined nothing unusual in it, and came away from the visit wholly ignorant of the attachment. It had required the arrival of the anemones, and the sight of Major Gordon with his arm about Jessie's waist, to convey to her the seriousness of the situation. But when the shock occasioned by these remarkable events passed, she, along with Deborah and Mary, waited in joyful anticipation of further news.

Yet hope soon gave way to disappointment, as Jessie once again felt herself obliged to refuse Major Gordon. It was perhaps fortunate that she had taken only the Jenkyns sisters and Mary Smith into her confidence, for it ought to have been unbearable to endure the impertinent inquiries of half the village when no engagement was forthcoming.

So Major Gordon departed for India, as planned, and in the evenings that followed, the Jenkynses seldom heard the faint sound of the pianoforte from across the way. Possibly Captain Brown, with his unseemly devotion to the works of Mr. Dickens, required no music to distract him, or perhaps his daughter had abandoned her playing for other occupations.

To Deborah, it seemed likelier that for a time Jessie should be unable to play without confronting the most painful associations, and the memory of an opportunity that had come and gone, very like the gentleman himself.

~.O.~

Truth to tell, Miss Jenkyns herself could not endure hearing "Loch Lomond," and when one afternoon Matilda commenced humming the melody while they were tying up preserves, only the knowledge that her sister possessed not the slightest shred of perversity gave Deborah fortitude enough to hold her tongue.

She was less tolerant a few days hence, however, when she caught Martha singing the song aloud while washing up the crockery, and bade her save her voice for an edifying hymn, if she insisted upon music as she worked. The girl started at the reproach, having no notion of how she had offended, but at least fell mercifully silent, leaving Deborah in peace if not contentment.

~.O.~

For some days afterwards Miss Jenkyns devoted considerable thought to Jessie's circumstances. Deborah had not yet known any man who had returned from India, once setting out upon the voyage, but perhaps Major Gordon should prove the exception.

Still, Jessie had refused him, not once but twice, and perhaps pride was to put an end to the hopes grief had deferred.

Yet Deborah refused to concede defeat. Surely propriety allowed some manner of intervention, even if she had not discovered it. She would pray for guidance, most assuredly, and perhaps with time discover a means to reunite the lovers.

Dear Jessie. It should not go well for her unless someone took a hand in arranging the match, and Captain Brown had displayed no inclination for such an undertaking. But with determination and resourcefulness, a woman should accomplish what men had failed to achieve.

On this point Deborah entertained no doubt whatsoever.

The End