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

Vestige Of Her.

 

On A Certain Day In february--The Cheerful Day Of St. Valentine,

In Fact--A Letter Reached mrs. Fitzpiers,  Which Had Been Mentally

Promised her For That Particular Day A Long Time Before.

 

It Announced that Fitzpiers Was Living at Some Midland Town,  Where

He Had Obtained a Temporary Practice As Assistant To Some Local

Medical Man,  Whose Curative Principles Were All Wrong,  Though He

Dared not Set Them Right.  He Had Thought Fit To Communicate With

Her On That Day Of Tender Traditions To Inquire If,  In the Event

Of His Obtaining a Substantial Practice That He Had In view

Elsewhere,  She Could Forget The Past And Bring herself To Join

Him.

 

There The Practical Part Ended; He Then Went On--

 

 

 

 

 

"My Last Year Of Experience Has Added ten Years To My Age,  Dear

Grace And Dearest Wife That Ever Erring man Undervalued.  You May

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Be Absolutely Indifferent To What I Say,  But Let Me Say It: I Have

Never Loved any Woman Alive Or Dead As I Love,  Respect,  And Honor

You At This Present Moment.  What You Told Me In the Pride And

Haughtiness Of Your Heart I Never Believed [This,  By The Way,  Was

Not Strictly True]; But Even If I Had Believed it,  It Could Never

Have Estranged me From You.  Is There Any Use In telling you--No,

There Is Not--That I Dream Of Your Ripe Lips More Frequently Than

I Say My Prayers; That The Old Familiar Rustle Of Your Dress Often

Returns Upon My Mind Till It Distracts Me? If You Could Condescend

Even Only To See Me Again You Would Be Breathing life Into A

Corpse.  My Pure,  Pure Grace,  Modest As A Turtledove,  How Came I

Ever To Possess You? For The Sake Of Being present In your Mind On

This Lovers' Day,  I Think I Would Almost Rather Have You Hate Me A

Little Than Not Think Of Me At All.  You May Call My Fancies

Whimsical; But Remember,  Sweet,  Lost One,  That 'Nature Is One In

Love,  And Where 'Tis Fine It Sends Some Instance Of Itself.'  I

Will Not Intrude Upon You Further Now.  Make Me A Little Bit Happy

By Sending back One Line To Say That You Will Consent,  At Any

Rate,  To A Short Interview.  I Will Meet You And Leave You As A

Mere Acquaintance,  If You Will Only Afford Me This Slight Means Of

Making a Few Explanations,  And Of Putting my Position Before You.

Believe Me,  In spite Of All You May Do Or Feel,    Your Lover

Always (Once Your Husband),

 

                                               "E."

 

 

 

 

 

It Was,  Oddly Enough,  The First Occasion,  Or Nearly The First On

Which Grace Had Ever Received a Love-Letter From Him,  His

Courtship Having taken Place Under Conditions Which Rendered

Letter-Writing unnecessary.  Its Perusal,  Therefore,  Had A Certain

Novelty For Her.  She Thought That,  Upon The Whole,  He Wrote Love-

Letters Very Well.  But The Chief Rational Interest Of The Letter

To The Reflective Grace Lay In the Chance That Such A Meeting as

He Proposed would Afford Her Of Setting her Doubts At Rest,  One

Way Or The Other,  On Her Actual Share In winterborne'S Death.  The

Relief Of Consulting a Skilled mind,  The One Professional Man Who

Had Seen Giles At That Time,  Would Be Immense.  As For That

Statement That She Had Uttered in her Disdainful Grief,  Which At

The Time She Had Regarded as Her Triumph,  She Was Quite Prepared

To Admit To Him That His Belief Was The True One; For In wronging

Herself As She Did When She Made It,  She Had Done What To Her Was

A Far More Serious Thing,  Wronged winterborne'S Memory.

 

Without Consulting her Father,  Or Any One In the House Or Out Of

It,  Grace Replied to The Letter.  She Agreed to Meet Fitzpiers On

Two Conditions,  Of Which The First Was That The Place Of Meeting

Should Be The Top Of Rubdown Hill,  The Second That He Would Not

Object To Marty South Accompanying her.

 

Whatever Part,  Much Or Little,  There May Have Been In fitzpiers'S

So-Called valentine To His Wife,  He Felt A Delight As Of The

Bursting of Spring when Her Brief Reply Came.  It Was One Of The

Few Pleasures That He Had Experienced of Late Years At All

Resembling those Of His Early Youth.  He Promptly Replied that He

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Accepted the Conditions,  And Named the Day And Hour At Which He

Would Be On The Spot She Mentioned.

 

A Few Minutes Before Three On The Appointed day Found Him Climbing

The Well-Known Hill,  Which Had Been The Axis Of So Many Critical

Movements In their Lives During his Residence At Hintock.

 

The Sight Of Each Homely And Well-Remembered object Swelled the

Regret That Seldom Left Him Now.  Whatever Paths Might Lie Open To

His Future,  The Soothing shades Of Hintock Were Forbidden Him

Forever As A Permanent Dwelling-Place.

 

He Longed for The Society Of Grace.  But To Lay Offerings On Her

Slighted altar Was His First Aim,  And Until Her Propitiation Was

Complete He Would Constrain Her In no Way To Return To Him.  The

Least Reparation That He Could Make,  In a Case Where He Would

Gladly Have Made Much,  Would Be To Let Her Feel Herself Absolutely

Free To Choose Between Living with Him And Without Him.

 

Moreover,  A Subtlist In emotions,  He Cultivated as Under Glasses

Strange And Mournful Pleasures That He Would Not Willingly Let Die

Just At Present.  To Show Any Forwardness In suggesting a Modus

Vivendi To Grace Would Be To Put An End To These Exotics.  To Be

The Vassal Of Her Sweet Will For A Time,  He Demanded no More,  And

Found Solace In the Contemplation Of The Soft Miseries She Caused

Him.

 

Approaching the Hill-Top With A Mind Strung To These Notions,

Fitzpiers Discerned a Gay Procession Of People Coming over The

Crest,  And Was Not Long In perceiving it To Be A Wedding-Party.

 

Though The Wind Was Keen The Women Were In light Attire,  And The

Flowered waistcoats Of The Men Had A Pleasing vividness Of

Pattern.  Each Of The Gentler Ones Clung To The Arm Of Her Partner

So Tightly As To Have With Him One Step,  Rise,  Swing,  Gait,  Almost

One Centre Of Gravity.  In the Buxom Bride Fitzpiers Recognized no

Other Than Suke Damson,  Who In her Light Gown Looked a Giantess;

The Small Husband Beside Her He Saw To Be Tim Tangs.

 

Fitzpiers Could Not Escape,  For They Had Seen Him; Though Of All

The Beauties Of The World Whom He Did Not Wish To Meet Suke Was

The Chief.  But He Put The Best Face On The Matter That He Could

And Came On,  The Approaching company Evidently Discussing him And

His Separation From Mrs. Fitzpiers.  As The Couples Closed upon

Him He Expressed his Congratulations.

 

"We Be Just Walking round The Parishes To Show Ourselves A Bit,"

Said Tim.  "First We Het Across To Delborough,  Then Athwart To

Here,  And From Here We Go To Rubdown And Millshot,  And Then Round

By The Cross-Roads Home.  Home Says I,  But It Won'T Be That Long!

We Be Off Next Month."

 

"Indeed.  Where To?"

 

Tim Informed him That They Were Going to New Zealand.  Not But

That He Would Have Been Contented with Hintock,  But His Wife Was

Ambitious And Wanted to Leave,  So He Had Given Way.

 

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"Then Good-By," Said Fitzpiers; "I May Not See You Again." He

Shook Hands With Tim And Turned to The Bride.  "Good-By,  Suke," He

Said,  Taking her Hand Also.  "I Wish You And Your Husband

Prosperity In the Country You Have Chosen."  With This He Left

Them,  And Hastened on To His Appointment.

 

The Wedding-Party Re-Formed and Resumed march Likewise.  But In

Restoring his Arm To Suke,  Tim Noticed that Her Full And Blooming

Countenance Had Undergone A Change.  "Holloa! Me Dear--What'S The

Matter?" Said Tim.

 

"Nothing to Speak O'," Said She.  But To Give The Lie To Her

Assertion She Was Seized with Lachrymose Twitches,  That Soon

Produced a Dribbling face.

 

"How--What The Devil'S This About!" Exclaimed the Bridegroom.

 

"She'S A Little Wee Bit Overcome,  Poor Dear!" Said The First

Bridesmaid,  Unfolding her Handkerchief And Wiping suke'S Eyes.

 

"I Never Did Like Parting from People!" Said Suke,  As Soon As She

Could Speak.

 

"Why Him In particular?"

 

"Well--He'S Such A Clever Doctor,  That 'Tis A Thousand Pities We

Sha'N'T See Him Any More! There'Ll Be No Such Clever Doctor As He

In New Zealand,  If I Should Require One; And The Thought O'T Got

The Better Of My Feelings!"

 

They Walked on,  But Tim'S Face Had Grown Rigid And Pale,  For He

Recalled slight Circumstances,  Disregarded at The Time Of Their

Occurrence.  The Former Boisterous Laughter Of The Wedding-Party

At The Groomsman'S Jokes Was Heard Ringing through The Woods No

More.

 

By This Time Fitzpiers Had Advanced on His Way To The Top Of The

Hill,  Where He Saw Two Figures Emerging from The Bank On The Right

Hand.  These Were The Expected ones,  Grace And Marty South,  Who

Had Evidently Come There By A Short And Secret Path Through The

Wood.  Grace Was Muffled up In her Winter Dress,  And He Thought

That She Had Never Looked so Seductive As At This Moment,  In the

Noontide Bright But Heatless Sun,  And The Keen Wind,  And The

Purplish-Gray Masses Of Brushwood Around.

 

Fitzpiers Continued to Regard The Nearing picture,  Till At Length

Their Glances Met For A Moment,  When She Demurely Sent Off Hers At

A Tangent And Gave Him The Benefit Of Her Three-Quarter Face,

While With Courteous Completeness Of Conduct He Lifted his Hat In

A Large Arc.  Marty Dropped behind; And When Fitzpiers Held Out

His Hand,  Grace Touched it With Her Fingers.

 

"I Have Agreed to Be Here Mostly Because I Wanted to Ask You

Something important," Said Mrs. Fitzpiers,  Her Intonation

Modulating in a Direction That She Had Not Quite Wished it To

Take.

 

"I Am Most Attentive," Said Her Husband.  "Shall We Take To The

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