view the
matter as cheerfully as possible.

Godfrey fell into thoughtfulness again. Presently he looked up at
Nancy sorrowfully, and said--

"She's a very pretty, nice girl, isn't she, Nancy?"

"Yes, dear; and with just your hair and eyes: I wondered it had never
struck me before."

"I think she took a dislike to me at the thought of my being her
father: I could see a change in her manner after that."

"She couldn't bear to think of not looking on Marner as her father,"
said Nancy, not wishing to confirm her husband's painful impression.

"She thinks I did wrong by her mother as well as by her. She thinks me
worse than I am. But she _must_ think it: she can never know all.
It's part of my punishment, Nancy, for my daughter to dislike me. I
should never have got into that trouble if I'd been true to you--if I
hadn't been a fool. I'd no right to expect anything but evil could
come of that marriage--and when I shirked doing a father's part too."

Nancy was silent: her spirit of rectitude would not let her try to
soften the edge of what she felt to be a just compunction. He spoke
again after a little while, but the tone was rather changed: there was
tenderness mingled with the previous self-reproach.

"And I got _you_, Nancy, in spite of all; and yet I've been grumbling
and uneasy because I hadn't something else--as if I deserved it."

"You've never been wanting to me, Godfrey," said Nancy, with quiet
sincerity. "My only trouble would be gone if you resigned yourself to
the lot that's been given us."

"Well, perhaps it isn't too late to mend a bit there. Though it _is_
too late to mend some things, say what they will."

CHAPTER XXI

The next morning, when Silas and Eppie were seated at their breakfast,
he said to her--

"Eppie, there's a thing I've had on my mind to do this two year, and
now the money's been brought back to us, we can do it. I've been
turning it over and over in the night, and I think we'll set out
to-morrow, while the fine days last. We'll leave the house and
everything for your godmother to take care on, and we'll make a little
bundle o' things and set out."

"Where to go, daddy?" said Eppie, in much surprise.

"To my old country--to the town where I was born--up Lantern Yard. I
want to see Mr. Paston, the minister: something may ha' come out to
make 'em know I was innicent o' the robbery. And Mr. Paston was a man
with a deal o' light--I want to speak to him about the d