Mrs Forrester had said that she asked us
with some diffidence, because the roads were, she feared, very
unsafe. But she suggested that perhaps one of us would not object
to take the sedan, and that the others, by walking briskly, might
keep up with the long trot of the chairmen, and so we might all
arrive safely at Over Place, a suburb of the town. (No; that is
too large an expression: a small cluster of houses separated from
Cranford by about two hundred yards of a dark and lonely lane.)
There was no doubt but that a similar note was awaiting Miss Pole
at home; so her call was a very fortunate affair, as it enabled us
to consult together. We would all much rather have declined this
invitation; but we felt that it would not be quite kind to Mrs
Forrester, who would otherwise be left to a solitary retrospect of
her not very happy or fortunate life. Miss Matty and Miss Pole had
been visitors on this occasion for many years, and now they
gallantly determined to nail their colours to the mast, and to go
through Darkness Lane rather than fail in loyalty to their friend.
But when the evening came, Miss Matty (for it was she who was voted
into the chair, as she had a cold), before being shut down in the
sedan, like jack-in-a-box, implored the chairmen, whatever might
befall, not to run away and leave her fastened up there, to be
murdered; and even after they had promised, I saw her tighten her
features into the stern determination of a martyr, and she gave me
a melancholy and ominous shake of the head through the glass.
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