Yet whatever the value of taciturnity to a man among strangers, it is
apt to express more than talkativeness when he dwells among friends.
The countryman who is obliged to judge the time of day from changes in
external nature sees a thousand successive tints and traits in the
landscape which are never discerned by him who hears the regular chime
of a clock, because they are never in request. In like manner do we
use our eyes on our taciturn comrade. The infinitesimal movement of
muscle, curve, hair, and wrinkle, which when accompanied by a voice
goes unregarded, is watched and translated in the lack of it, till
virtually the whole surrounding circle of familiars is charged with the
reserved one's moods and meanings.
This was the condition of affairs between Winterborne and his neighbors
after his stroke of ill-luck. He held his tongue; and they observed
him, and knew that he was discomposed.
Mr. Melbury, in his compunction, thought more of the matter than any
one else, except his daughter. Had Winterborne been going on in the
old fashion, Grace's father could have alluded to his disapproval of
the alliance every day with the greatest frankness; but to speak any
further on the subject he could not find it in his heart to do now. He
hoped that Giles would of his own accord make some final announcement
that he entirely withdrew his pretensions to Grace, and so get the
thing past and done with. For though Giles had in a measure acquiesced
in the wish of her family, he could make matters unpleasant if he chose
to work upon Grace; and hence, when Melbury saw the young man
approaching along the road one day, he kept friendliness and frigidity
exactly balanced in his eye till he could see whether Giles's manner
was presumptive or not.
His manner was that of a man who abandoned all claims. "I am glad to
meet ye, Mr. Melbury," he said, in a low voice, whose quality he
endeavored to make as practical as possible. "I am afraid I shall not
be able to keep that mare I bought, and as I don't care to sell her, I
should like--if you don't object--to give her to Miss Melbury. The
horse is very quiet, and would be quite safe for her."
Mr. Melbury was rather affected at this. "You sha'n't hurt your pocket
like that on our account, Giles. Grace shall have the horse, but I'll
pay you what you gave for her, and any expense you may have been put to
for her keep."
He would not hear of any other terms, and thus it was arranged. They
were now opposite Melbury's house, and the timber-merchant pressed
Winterborne to enter, Grace being out of the way.