There was no music or dancing in progress just now.
At the lower end, which had been arranged for the work-
folk specially, a group conversed in whispers, and with
clouded looks. Boldwood was standing by the fireplace,
and he, too, though so absorbed in visions arising from
her promise that he scarcely saw anything, seemed at
that moment to have observed their peculiar manner,
and their looks askance.
"What is it you are in doubt about, men?" he said.
One of them turned and replied uneasily: "It was
something Laban heard of, that's all, sir."
"News? Anybody married or engaged, born or
dead?" inquired the farmer, gaily. "Tell it to us, Tall.
One would think from your looks and mysterious ways
that it was something very dreadful indeed."
"O no, sir, nobody is dead." said Tall.
"I wish somebody was." said Samway, in a whisper.
"What do you say, Samway?" asked Boldwood, some-
what sharply. "If you have anything to say, speak out;
if not, get up another dance."
"Mrs. Troy has come downstairs." said Samway to
Tall. "If you want to tell her, you had better do it now.
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