I shall offer him one, and he is
so mean and stingy that he will take it. Perhaps this
may be one of his fool days. Perhaps somebody else will
treat him to the whiskey. No, Matty! honor bright, _I_
will not, though that ten cents might give us all a Merry
Christmas. Honor bright, I will not treat. But I am not
a saint, Matty! If anybody else treats, I must not be
expected to be far away."
Then he wiped her eyes with his own handkerchief and
led her in to the service. Their own pew was already
full. He had to take her back into Dr. Metcalf's pew.
So Matty was spared one annoyance which was prepared
for her.
Directly in front of her father's pew, sitting in the
most conspicuous seat on the other side of the aisle, was
the hateful Mr. Greenhithe.
Had he put himself there to watch Matty's face?
If he did, he was disappointed. If he had
persuaded himself he was to see a pale cheek or
tearful eyes, or that he was going to compel her to drop
her veil, he had reckoned quite without his host.
Whenever he did look that way, all he saw was the face of
Master Horace. Horace was engaged in counting the large
tassels on his side of the pulpit curtains; in counting,
also, the number of small tassels between them, and from
the data thus obtained, in calculating how many tassels
there must be on all the curtains to the pulpit, and how
many on the curtains behind the rail to the chancel.
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