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She deliberately folded up a newspaper clipping and shoved it into her hand-bag on a chair beside the table. Lawrence Macey met her eye unflinchingly. "Suppose," he drawled, "just for the sake of argument, that you are right. What would you do?" Constance looked at the unruffled exterior of the man. With her keen perception she knew that it covered just as calm an interior.
Macey and a few other privileged villagers, who were allowed to be spectators on these great occasions, were seated on benches placed for them near the door; and great was the admiration and satisfaction in that quarter when the couples had formed themselves for the dance, and the Squire led off with Mrs. Crackenthorp, joining hands with the rector and Mrs. Osgood.
"But good old Dave was right at hand to help," Dick contended staunchly. "Get yourselves together, boys. Then we'll get down out of here," urged Mr. Macey. "I haven't done anything, but I feel as though I'd be the one to reel and faint." "Take this scarf, now, please," begged Dick, holding open his coat.
Osgood as now is, and a fine handsome lass she was eh, you can't think they pretend this young lass is like her, but that's the way wi' people as don't know what come before 'em. I should know, for I helped the old rector, Mr. Drumlow as was, I helped him marry 'em." Here Mr. Macey paused; he always gave his narrative in instalments, expecting to be questioned according to precedent.
She filled the days between with reading and walking and parish work. There had been changes in Garthdale. Mr. Grierson had got married in one of his bursts of enthusiasm and had gone away. His place had been taken by Mr. Macey, the strenuous son of a Durlingham grocer. Mr. Macey had got into the Church by sheer strenuousness and had married, strenuously, a sharp and sallow wife.
"From the reports Fordham has of your play the young men over in that town are certain that they're enough better to be able to bring your scalps into camp." "Perhaps they'll do it," laughed Dick pleasantly. "We'll admit that we're about due for a walloping whenever the crowd comes along that can do it." "I am only telling you what I hear from Fordham," continued Mr. Macey.
As he was studying it out, Starbuck took a long cutting-spade pole, and with his knife slightly split the end, to insert the letter there, and in that way, hand it to the boat, without its coming any closer to the ship. Meantime, Ahab holding the letter, muttered, "Mr. Har yes, Mr. Harry Macey, Ship Jeroboam; why it's Macey, and he's dead!"
Yet the next moment there seemed to be some evidence that ghosts had a more condescending disposition than Mr. Macey attributed to them; for the pale thin figure of Silas Marner was suddenly seen standing in the warm light, uttering no word, but looking round at the company with his strange unearthly eyes.
And as for the cow's being Mr. Lammeter's, I say nothing to that; but this I say, as the Rainbow's the Rainbow. And for the matter o' that, if the talk is to be o' the Lammeters, you know the most upo' that head, eh, Mr. Macey? You remember when first Mr. Lammeter's father come into these parts, and took the Warrens?" Mr.
"Yes, sir," answered Maggie, and laying Bennie gently down, she went round behind the counter, while the young man, gazing curiously at her, continued, "You surely are not Miss Macey?" There was a most comical expression in the brown eyes which met the black ones of the stranger, as Maggie answered, "No sir, I am nobody but Maggie Lee."
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