The Woodlanders Part 2, Thomas Hardy [e textbook reader txt] 📗

Was Invited out A Good

Deal,  Sang Songs At Agricultural Meetings And Burgesses' Dinners;

In Sum,  Victualled himself With Spirits More Frequently Than Was

Good For The Clever Brains Or Body Either.  He Lost His Situation,

And After An Absence Spent In trying his Powers Elsewhere,  Came

Back To His Native Town,  Where,  At The Time Of The Foregoing

Events In hintock,  He Gave Legal Advice For Astonishingly Small

Fees--Mostly Carrying on His Profession On Public-House Settles,

In Whose Recesses He Might Often Have Been Overheard Making

Country-People'S Wills For Half A Crown; Calling with A Learned

Voice For Pen-And-Ink And A Halfpenny Sheet Of Paper,  On Which He

Drew Up The Testament While Resting it In a Little Space Wiped

With His Hand On The Table Amid The Liquid Circles Formed by The

Cups And Glasses.  An Idea Implanted early In life Is Difficult To

Uproot,  And Many Elderly Tradespeople Still Clung To The Notion

That Fred beaucock Knew A Great Deal Of Law.

 

It Was He Who Had Called melbury By Name.  "You Look Very Down,

Mr. Melbury--Very,  If I May Say As Much," He Observed,  When The

Timber-Merchant Turned.  "But I Know--I Know.  A Very Sad Case--

Very.  I Was Bred to The Law,  As You Know,  And Am Professionally

No Stranger To Such Matters.  Well,  Mrs. Fitzpiers Has Her

Remedy."

 

"How--What--A Remedy?" Said Melbury.

 

"Under The New Law,  Sir.  A New Court Was Established last Year,

And Under The New Statute,  Twenty And Twenty-One Vic.,  Cap.

Eighty-Five,  Unmarrying is As Easy As Marrying.  No More Acts Of

Parliament Necessary; No Longer One Law For The Rich And Another

For The Poor.  But Come Inside--I Was Just Going to Have A

Nibleykin Of Rum Hot--I'Ll Explain It All To You."

 

The Intelligence Amazed melbury,  Who Saw Little Of Newspapers.

And Though He Was A Severely Correct Man In his Habits,  And Had No

Taste For Entering a Tavern With Fred beaucock--Nay,  Would Have

Been Quite Uninfluenced by Such A Character On Any Other Matter In

The World--Such Fascination Lay In the Idea Of Delivering his Poor

Girl From Bondage,  That It Deprived him Of The Critical Faculty.

He Could Not Resist The Ex-Lawyer'S Clerk,  And Entered the Inn.

 

Part 2 Chapter 12 Pg 70

Here They Sat Down To The Rum,  Which Melbury Paid For As A Matter

Of Course,  Beaucock Leaning back In the Settle With A Legal

Gravity Which Would Hardly Allow Him To Be Conscious Of The

Spirits Before Him,  Though They Nevertheless Disappeared with

Mysterious Quickness.

 

How Much Of The Exaggerated information On The Then New Divorce

Laws Which Beaucock Imparted to His Listener Was The Result Of

Ignorance,  And How Much Of Dupery,  Was Never Ascertained.  But He

Related such A Plausible Story Of The Ease With Which Grace Could

Become A Free Woman That Her Father Was Irradiated with The

Project; And Though He Scarcely Wetted his Lips,  Melbury Never

Knew How He Came Out Of The Inn,  Or When Or Where He Mounted his

Gig To Pursue His Way Homeward.  But Home He Found Himself,  His

Brain Having all The Way Seemed to Ring sonorously As A Gong In

The Intensity Of Its Stir.  Before He Had Seen Grace,  He Was

Accidentally Met By Winterborne,  Who Found His Face Shining as If

He Had,  Like The Law-Giver,  Conversed with An Angel.

 

He Relinquished his Horse,  And Took Winterborne By The Arm To A

Heap Of Rendlewood--As Barked oak Was Here Called--Which Lay Under

A Privet-Hedge.

 

"Giles," He Said,  When They Had Sat Down Upon The Logs,  "There'S A

New Law In the Land! Grace Can Be Free Quite Easily.  I Only Knew

It By The Merest Accident.  I Might Not Have Found It Out For The

Next Ten Years.  She Can Get Rid Of Him--D'Ye Hear?--Get Rid Of

Him.  Think Of That,  My Friend Giles!"

 

He Related what He Had Learned of The New Legal Remedy.  A Subdued

Tremulousness About The Mouth Was All The Response That

Winterborne Made; And Melbury Added,  "My Boy,  You Shall Have Her

Yet--If You Want Her." His Feelings Had Gathered volume As He Said

This,  And The Articulate Sound Of The Old Idea Drowned his Sight

In Mist.

 

"Are You Sure--About This New Law?" Asked winterborne,  So

Disquieted by A Gigantic Exultation Which Loomed alternately With

Fearful Doubt That He Evaded the Full Acceptance Of Melbury'S Last

Statement.

 

Melbury Said That He Had No Manner Of Doubt,  For Since His Talk

With Beaucock It Had Come Into His Mind That He Had Seen Some Time

Ago In the Weekly Paper An Allusion To Such A Legal Change; But,

Having no Interest In those Desperate Remedies At The Moment,  He

Had Passed it Over.  "But I'M Not Going to Let The Matter Rest

Doubtful For A Single Day," He Continued.  "I Am Going to London.

Beaucock Will Go With Me,  And We Shall Get The Best Advice As Soon

As We Possibly Can.  Beaucock Is A Thorough Lawyer--Nothing the

Matter With Him But A Fiery Palate.  I Knew Him As The Stay And

Refuge Of Sherton In knots Of Law At One Time."

 

Winterborne'S Replies Were Of The Vaguest.  The New Possibility

Was Almost Unthinkable By Him At The Moment.  He Was What Was

Called at Hintock "A Solid-Going fellow;" He Maintained his

Abeyant Mood,  Not From Want Of Reciprocity,  But From A Taciturn

Hesitancy,  Taught By Life As He Knew It.

Part 2 Chapter 12 Pg 71

"But," Continued the Timber-Merchant,  A Temporary Crease Or Two Of

Anxiety Supplementing those Already Established in his Forehead By

Time And Care,  "Grace Is Not At All Well.  Nothing constitutional,

You Know; But She Has Been In a Low,  Nervous State Ever Since That

Night Of Fright.  I Don'T Doubt But That She Will Be All Right

Soon....I Wonder How She Is This Evening?" He Rose With The Words,

As If He Had Too Long Forgotten Her Personality In the Excitement

Of Her Previsioned career.

 

They Had Sat Till The Evening was Beginning to Dye The Garden

Brown,  And Now Went Towards Melbury'S House,  Giles A Few Steps In

The Rear Of His Old Friend,  Who Was Stimulated by The Enthusiasm

Of The Moment To Outstep The Ordinary Walking of Winterborne.  He

Felt Shy Of Entering grace'S Presence As Her Reconstituted lover--

Which Was How Her Father'S Manner Would Be Sure To Present Him--

Before Definite Information As To Her Future State Was

Forthcoming; It Seemed too Nearly Like The Act Of Those Who Rush

In Where Angels Fear To Tread.

 

A Chill To Counterbalance All The Glowing promise Of The Day Was

Prompt Enough In coming.  No Sooner Had He Followed the Timber-

Merchant In at The Door Than He Heard Grammer Inform Him That Mrs.

Fitzpiers Was Still More Unwell Than She Had Been In the Morning.

Old Dr. Jones Being in the Neighborhood They Had Called him In,

And He Had Instantly Directed them To Get Her To Bed.  They Were

Not,  However,  To Consider Her Illness Serious--A Feverish,  Nervous

Attack The Result Of Recent Events,  Was What She Was Suffering

From,  And She Would Doubtless Be Well In a Few Days.

 

Winterborne,  Therefore,  Did Not Remain,  And His Hope Of Seeing her

That Evening was Disappointed.  Even This Aggravation Of Her

Morning condition Did Not Greatly Depress Melbury.  He Knew,  He

Said,  That His Daughter'S Constitution Was Sound Enough.  It Was

Only These Domestic Troubles That Were Pulling her Down.  Once

Free She Would Be Blooming again.  Melbury Diagnosed rightly,  As

Parents Usually Do.

 

He Set Out For London The Next Morning,  Jones Having paid Another

Visit And Assured him That He Might Leave Home Without Uneasiness,

Especially On An Errand Of That Sort,  Which Would The Sooner Put

An End To Her Suspense.

 

The Timber-Merchant Had Been Away Only A Day Or Two When It Was

Told In hintock That Mr. Fitzpiers'S Hat Had Been Found In the

Wood.  Later On In the Afternoon The Hat Was Brought To Melbury,

And,  By A Piece Of Ill-Fortune,  Into Grace'S Presence.  It Had

Doubtless Lain In the Wood Ever Since His Fall From The Horse,  But

It Looked so Clean And Uninjured--The Summer Weather And Leafy

Shelter Having much Favored its Preservation--That Grace Could Not

Believe It Had Remained so Long Concealed.  A Very Little Of Fact

Was Enough To Set Her Fevered fancy At Work At This Juncture; She

Thought Him Still In the Neighborhood; She Feared his Sudden

Appearance; And Her Nervous Malady Developed consequences So Grave

That Dr. Jones Began To Look Serious,  And The Household Was

Alarmed.

 

It Was The Beginning of June,  And The Cuckoo At This Time Of The

Summer Scarcely Ceased his Cry For More Than Two Or Three Hours

Part 2 Chapter 12 Pg 72

During the Night.  The Bird'S Note,  So Familiar To Her Ears From

Infancy,  Was Now Absolute Torture To The Poor Girl.  On The Friday

Following the Wednesday Of Melbury'S Departure,  And The Day After

The Discovery Of Fitzpiers'S Hat,  The Cuckoo Began At Two O'Clock

In The Morning with A Sudden Cry From One Of Melbury'S Apple-

Trees,  Not Three Yards From The Window Of Grace'S Room.

 

"Oh,  He Is Coming!" She Cried,  And In her Terror Sprang Clean From

The Bed out Upon The Floor.

 

These Starts And Frights Continued till Noon; And When The Doctor

Had Arrived and Had Seen Her,  And Had Talked with Mrs. Melbury,  He

Sat Down And Meditated.  That Ever-Present Terror It Was

Indispensable To Remove From Her Mind At All Hazards; And He

Thought How This Might Be Done.

 

Without Saying a Word To Anybody In the House,  Or To The

Disquieted winterborne Waiting in the Lane Below,  Dr. Jones Went

Home And Wrote To Mr. Melbury At The London Address He Had

Obtained from His Wife.  The Gist Of His Communication Was That

Mrs. Fitzpiers Should Be Assured as Soon As Possible That Steps

Were Being taken To Sever The Bond Which Was Becoming a Torture To

Her; That She Would Soon Be Free,  And Was Even Then Virtually So.

"If You Can Say It At Once It May Be The Means Of Averting much

Harm," He Said.  "Write To Herself; Not To Me."

 

On Saturday He Drove Over To Hintock,  And Assured her With

Mysterious Pacifications That In a Day Or Two She Might Expect To

Receive Some Assuring news.  So It Turned out.  When Sunday

Morning came There Was A Letter For Grace From Her Father.  It

Arrived at Seven O'Clock,  The Usual Time At Which The Toddling

Postman Passed by Hintock; At Eight Grace Awoke,  Having slept An

Hour Or Two For A Wonder,  And Mrs. Melbury Brought Up The Letter.

 

"Can You Open It