He glared at her. Young Nick's Hattie thought she had never heard father speak with such bitterness; and indeed it was true. Never before had he been assailed on his own ground; it seemed as if the whole township now conspired to bait him.
"Well" she remarked weakly, "I dunno's it does any hurt, so long as they can tell what they mean by it."
Nicholas threw her a pitying glance. He scorned to waste eternal truth on one so dull.
"Well," she went on, in desperation, "that ain't all, neither. I might as well say the whole, an' done with it. He wants 'em to set up the clock on the meetin'-house; an' seeing the tower mightn't be firm enough, he'll build it up higher, an' give 'em a new bell."
Now, indeed, Nicholas Oldfield was in the case of Shylock, when he learned his daughter's limit of larceny. "The curse never fell upon our nation till now," so he might have quoted. "I never felt it till now."
He rose from his chair.
"In the name of God Almighty," he asked solemnly, "what do they want of a new bell?"
Young Nick's Hattie gave an involuntary cry.
"O father!" she entreated, "don't say such words. I never see you take on so. What under the sun has got into you?"
Nicholas made no reply. Slowly and methodically he was putting the dishes into the wooden sink. When he touched Mary's pink mug, his fingers trembled a little; but he did not look at her. He knew she understood. Young Nick's Hattie rolled her hands nervously in her apron, and then unrolled them, and smoothed the apron down. She gathered herself desperately.