| | "Well, to be sure, you can read 'em off," said Dolly. "Ben's read 'em
to me many and many a time, but they slip out o' my mind again; the
more's the pity, for they're good letters, else they wouldn't be in the
church; and so I prick 'em on all the loaves and all the cakes, though
sometimes they won't hold, because o' the rising--for, as I said, if
there's any good to be got we've need of it i' this world--that we
have; and I hope they'll bring good to you, Master Marner, for it's wi'
that will I brought you the cakes; and you see the letters have held
better nor common."
-----
"Ah, if there's good anywhere, we've need of it," repeated Dolly, who did not lightly forsake a serviceable phrase.
----
"Well, yes, Master Marner," said Dolly, who sat with a
placid listening face, now bordered by grey hairs; "I doubt it may.
It's the will o' Them above as a many things should be dark to us; but
there's some things as I've never felt i' the dark about, and they're
mostly what comes i' the day's work. You were hard done by that once,
Master Marner, and it seems as you'll never know the rights of it; but
that doesn't hinder there being a rights, Master Marner, for all it's
dark to you and me."
"No," said Silas, "no; that doesn't hinder. Since the
time the child was sent to me and I've come to love her as myself, I've
had light enough to trusten by; and now she says she'll never leave me,
I think I shall trusten till I die."
|
