ted pleasure) all sorts of good things for
supper--scalloped oysters, potted lobsters, jelly, a dish called
"little Cupids" (which was in great favor with the Cranford ladies,
although too expensive to be given except on solemn and state
occasions--macaroons sopped in brandy, I should have called it, if I
had not known its more refined and classical name). In short, we were
evidently to be feasted with all that was sweetest and best; and we
thought it better to submit graciously, even at the cost of our
gentility--which never ate suppers in general, but which, like most
non-supper-eaters, was particularly hungry on all special occasions.

Miss Barker in her former sphere had, I daresay, been made acquainted
with the beverage they call cherry brandy. We none of us had ever seen
such a thing, and rather shrank back when she proffered it us--"just a
little, leetle glass, ladies; after the oysters and lobsters, you
know. Shell-fish are sometimes thought not very wholesome." We all
shook our heads like female mandarins; but at last Mrs. Jamieson
suffered herself to be persuaded, and we followed her lead. It was not
exactly unpalatable, though so hot and so strong that we thought
ourselves bound to give evidence that we were not accustomed to such
things by coughing terribly--almost as strangely as Miss Barker had
done, before we were admitted by Peggy.

"It's very strong," said Miss Pole, as she put down her empty glass;
"I do believe there's spirit in it."

"Only a little drop--just necessary to make it keep," said Miss
Barker. "You know we put brandy paper over preserves to make them
keep. I often feel tipsy myself from eating damson tart."

I question whether damson tart would have opened Mrs. Jamieson's heart
as the cherry brandy did; but she told us of a coming event,
respecting which she had been quite silent till that moment.

"My sister-in-law, Lady Glenmire, is coming to stay with me." There
was a chorus of "Indeed!" and then a pause. Each one rapidly reviewed
her wardrobe, as to its fitness to appear in the presence of a baron's
widow; for of course a series of small festivals were always held in
Cranford on the arrival of a visitor at any of our friends' houses. We
felt very pleasantly excited on the present occasion.

Not long after this, the maids and the lanterns were announced. Mrs.
Jamieson had the sedan-chair, which squeezed itself into Miss Barker's
narrow lobby with some difficulty, and most literall