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Updated: June 7, 2025
Maybold hastily, looking very red, and brushing his chin with his hand, then taking out his handkerchief and wiping the place. "That's it, sir; all right again now, 'a b'lieve a mere nothing," said Mr. Penny. "A little bit of fur off your hat will stop it in a minute if it should bust out again."
Dick, that thou beest a white-lyvered chap I don't say, but if thou beestn't as mad as a cappel-faced bull, let me smile no more." "O, ay." "And what's think now, Dick?" "I don't know." "Here's another pretty kettle o' fish for thee. Who d'ye think's the bitter weed in our being turned out? Did our party tell 'ee?" "No. Why, Pa'son Maybold, I suppose."
"I suppose you go straight on and up town?" "Yes." "Good-morning, sir." "Good-morning, Dewy." Maybold stood still upon the bridge, holding the card as it had been put into his hand, and Dick's footsteps died away towards Durnover Mill. The vicar's first voluntary action was to read the card:
Spinks, connecting into one thread the two subjects of discourse, as became a man learned in rhetoric, and beating with his hand in a way which signified that the manner rather than the matter of his speech was to be observed, "how did Mr. Maybold know she could play the organ?
Mr. Maybold was at this instant seen coming up the path. "There! That's he coming! How I wish you were not here! that is, how awkward dear, dear!" she exclaimed, with a quick ascent of blood to her face, and irritated with Dick rather than the vicar, as it seemed.
I consider it most proper, and feel justified in endeavouring to introduce it; but then, although other music is better, I don't say yours is not good." "Well then, Mr. Mr. Maybold bowed his head. "All we thought was, that for us old ancient singers to be choked off quiet at no time in particular, as now, in the Sundays after Easter, would seem rather mean in the eyes of other parishes, sir.
Curls and a hat and feather!" said the daughters of the small gentry, who had either only curly hair without a hat and feather, or a hat and feather without curly hair. "A bonnet for church always," said sober matrons. That Mr. Maybold was conscious of her presence close beside him during the sermon; that he was not at all angry at her development of costume; that he admired her, she perceived.
Maybold and old William looked in the same direction, apparently under the impression that the things' faces alluded to were there visible.
"Ah, poor young man!" said Mr. Maybold. "Bless you, he don't mind it a bit, if you don't, sir," said the tranter assuringly. "Do ye, Leaf?" "Not I not a morsel hee, hee! I was afeard it mightn't please your holiness, sir, that's all."
The tranter went back to the vicar's front and again looked earnestly at his face. "True, true, Dewy," Mr. Maybold answered, trying to withdraw his head and shoulders without moving his feet; but finding this impracticable, edging back another inch. These frequent retreats had at last jammed Mr. Maybold between his easy-chair and the edge of the table.
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