Many a farmer's wife or daughter turned away
huffed from Miss Barkers' select millinery, and went rather to the
universal shop, where the profits of brown soap and moist sugar
enabled the proprietor to go straight to (Paris, he said, until he
found his customers too patriotic and John Bullish to wear what the
Mounseers wore) London, where, as he often told his customers,
Queen Adelaide had appeared, only the very week before, in a cap
exactly like the one he showed them, trimmed with yellow and blue
ribbons, and had been complimented by King William on the becoming
nature of her head-dress.
Miss Barkers, who confined themselves to truth, and did not approve
of miscellaneous customers, throve notwithstanding. They were
self-denying, good people. Many a time have I seen the eldest of
them (she that had been maid to Mrs Jamieson) carrying out some
delicate mess to a poor person. They only aped their betters in
having "nothing to do" with the class immediately below theirs.
And when Miss Barker died, their profits and income were found to
be such that Miss Betty was justified in shutting up shop and
retiring from business. She also (as I think I have before said)
set up her cow; a mark of respectability in Cranford almost as
decided as setting up a gig is among some people.
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