'
Poor Dolly's exposition of her simple Raveloe theology fell
rather unmeaningly on Silas's ears, for there was no word in it that
could rouse a memory of what he had known as religion, and his
comprehension was quite baffled by the plural pronoun, which was no
heresy of Dolly's, but only her way of avoiding a presumptuous
familiarity. He remained silent, not feeling inclined to assent to the
part of Dolly's speech which he fully understood- her recommendation
that he should go to church. Indeed, Silas was so unaccustomed to talk
beyond the brief questions and answers necessary for the transaction
of his simple business, that words did not easily come to him
without the urgency of a distinct purpose.
But now, little Aaron, having become used to the weaver's awful
presence, had advanced to his mother's side, and Silas, seeming to
notice him for the first time, tried to return Dolly's signs of
goodwill by offering the lad a bit of lard-cake. Aaron shrank back a
little, and rubbed his head against his mother's shoulder, but still
thought the piece of cake worth the risk of putting his hand out for
it.
'Oh, for shame, Aaron,' said his mother, taking him on her lap,
however; 'why, you don't want cake again yet awhile. He's wonderful
hearty,' she went on, with a little sigh- 'that he is, God knows. He's
my youngest, and we spoil him sadly, for either me or the father
must allays hev him in our sight- that we must.
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