PART ONE
10. CHAPTER X
(continued)
This good wholesome woman could hardly fail to have her mind drawn
strongly towards Silas Marner, now that he appeared in the light of
a sufferer; and one Sunday afternoon she took her little boy Aaron
with her, and went to call on Silas, carrying in her hand some small
lard-cakes, flat paste-like articles much esteemed in Raveloe.
Aaron, an apple-cheeked youngster of seven, with a clean starched
frill which looked like a plate for the apples, needed all his
adventurous curiosity to embolden him against the possibility that
the big-eyed weaver might do him some bodily injury; and his dubiety
was much increased when, on arriving at the Stone-pits, they heard
the mysterious sound of the loom.
"Ah, it is as I thought," said Mrs. Winthrop, sadly.
They had to knock loudly before Silas heard them; but when he did
come to the door he showed no impatience, as he would once have
done, at a visit that had been unasked for and unexpected.
Formerly, his heart had been as a locked casket with its treasure
inside; but now the casket was empty, and the lock was broken. Left
groping in darkness, with his prop utterly gone, Silas had
inevitably a sense, though a dull and half-despairing one, that if
any help came to him it must come from without; and there was a
slight stirring of expectation at the sight of his fellow-men, a
faint consciousness of dependence on their goodwill. He opened the
door wide to admit Dolly, but without otherwise returning her
greeting than by moving the armchair a few inches as a sign that she
was to sit down in it. Dolly, as soon as she was seated, removed
the white cloth that covered her lard-cakes, and said in her gravest
way--
"I'd a baking yisterday, Master Marner, and the lard-cakes turned
out better nor common, and I'd ha' asked you to accept some, if
you'd thought well. I don't eat such things myself, for a bit o'
bread's what I like from one year's end to the other; but men's
stomichs are made so comical, they want a change--they do, I know,
God help 'em."
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