we walked to and from
a party, it was because the night was _so_ fine or the air _so_
refreshing, not because sedan-chairs were so expensive.

So the poor captain had been sent to Coventry. The ladies of Cranford
had frozen him out, until the day when the cow, an Alderney cow, had
broken the ice.

It happened like this. Miss Betsy Barker had an Alderney cow, which she
looked upon as a daughter. You could not pay the regulation short
quarter of an hour's call--to stay longer was a breach of
manners--without being told of the wonderful milk or wonderful
intelligence of this animal. The whole town knew and kindly regarded
Miss Betsy Barker's Alderney.

One day the cow fell into a lime-pit, and Cranford grieved over the
spectacle of the poor beast being drawn out, having lost most of her
hair, and looking naked, cold and miserable, in a bare skin. Miss Betsy
Barker absolutely cried with sorrow and dismay, and was about to prepare
a bath of oil for the sufferer, when Captain Brown called out: "Get her
a flannel waistcoat and flannel drawers, ma'am, if you wish to keep her
alive. But my advice is, 'kill the poor creature at once.'" Miss Betsy
Barker dried her eyes, and in a few hours the whole town turned out to
see the Alderney meekly going to her pasture, clad in dark-gray flannel.
Do you ever see cows dressed in gray flannel in London?

On that day was born the respect of the Cranford ladies for Captain
Brown.

Soon after my arrival in Cranford, Miss Jenkyns gave a party in my
honour, and recalling the old days when we had almost persuaded
ourselves that to be a man was to be "vulgar," I was curious to see what
the ladies would do with Captain Brown.

The preparations were much as usual. Card-tables, with green baize tops,
were set out by daylight, and towards four, when the evening closed in,
we all stood dressed in our best, each with a candle-lighter in our
hand, ready to dart at the candles as soon as the first knock came. The
china was delicate egg-shell; the old-fashioned silver glittered with
polishing; but the eatables were of the slightest description. While the
trays were yet on the table, Captain Brown arrived with his two
daughters, Miss Brown and Miss Jessie, the former with a sickly, pained,
and careworn expression; the latter with a pretty, round, dimpled face,
and the look of a child which will remain with her should she live to be
a hundred.

I could see that the captain was a favourite with all t