If he went on in that
way, he would lose Miss Nancy Lammeter; for it was well known that she
had looked very shyly on him ever since last Whitsuntide twelve-month,
when there was so much talk about his being away from home days and
days together. There was something wrong, more than common-- that was
quite clear; for Mr Godfrey didn't look half so fresh-coloured and
open as he used to do. At one time everybody was saying, what a
handsome couple he and Miss Nancy Lammeter would make! and if she
could come to be mistress at the Red House there would be a fine
change, for the Lammeters had been brought up in that way, that they
never suffered a pinch of salt to be wasted, and yet everybody in
their household had of the best, according to his place. Such a
daughter-in-law would be a saving to the old Squire, if she never
brought a penny to her fortune, for it was to be feared that,
notwithstanding his incomings, there were more holes in his pocket
than the one where he put his own hand in. But if Mr Godfrey didn't
turn over a new leaf, he might say 'Good-bye' to Miss Nancy Lammeter.
It was the once hopeful Godfrey who was standing, with his hands in
his side-pockets and his back to the fire, in the dark wainscoted
parlour, one late November afternoon, in that fifteenth year of
Silas Marner's life at Raveloe. The fading grey light fell dimly on
the walls decorated with guns, whips and foxes' brushes, on coats
and hats flung on the chairs, on tankards sending forth a scent of
flat ale, and on a half-choked fire, with pipes propped up in the
chimney-corners: signs of a domestic life destitute of any hallowing
charm, with which the look of gloomy vexation on Godfrey's blond
face was in sad accordance.
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