The Woodlanders Part 2 by Thomas Hardy (best romantic books to read txt) 📕

Consequence The Boy Had To Fetch It Overnight.  He Put His Head

Through The Collar,  And Accompanied his Walk By Whistling the One

Tune He Knew,  As An Antidote To Fear.

The Boy Suddenly Became Aware Of A Horse Trotting rather Friskily

Along The Track Behind Him,  And Not Knowing whether To Expect

Friend Or Foe,  Prudence Suggested that He Should Cease His

Whistling and Retreat Among The Trees Till The Horse And His Rider

Had Gone By; A Course To Which He Was Still More Inclined when He

Found How Noiselessly They Approached,  And Saw That The Horse

Looked pale,  And Remembered what He Had Read About Death In the

Revelation.  He Therefore Deposited the Collar By A Tree,  And Hid

Himself Behind It.  The Horseman Came On,  And The Youth,  Whose

Eyes Were As Keen As Telescopes,  To His Great Relief Recognized

The Doctor.

As Melbury Surmised,  Fitzpiers Had In the Darkness Taken Blossom

For Darling,  And He Had Not Discovered his Mistake When He Came Up

Opposite The Boy,  Though He Was Somewhat Surprised at The

Liveliness Of His Usually Placid Mare.  The Only Other Pair Of

Eyes On The Spot Whose Vision Was Keen As The Young Carter'S Were

Those Of The Horse; And,  With That Strongly Conservative Objection

To The Unusual Which Animals Show,  Blossom,  On Eying the Collar

Under The Tree--Quite Invisible To Fitzpiers--Exercised none Of

The Patience Of The Older Horse,  But Shied sufficiently To Unseat

So Second-Rate An Equestrian As The Surgeon.

He Fell,  And Did Not Move,  Lying as Melbury Afterwards Found Him.

The Boy Ran Away,  Salving his Conscience For The Desertion By

Thinking how Vigorously He Would Spread The Alarm Of The Accident

When He Got To Hintock--Which He Uncompromisingly Did,  Incrusting

The Skeleton Event With A Load Of Dramatic Horrors.

Grace Had Returned,  And The Fly Hired on Her Account,  Though Not

By Her Husband,  At The Crown Hotel,  Shottsford-Forum,  Had Been

Paid For And Dismissed.  The Long Drive Had Somewhat Revived her,

Her Illness Being a Feverish Intermittent Nervousness Which Had

More To Do With Mind Than Body,  And She Walked about Her Sitting-

Room In something of A Hopeful Mood.  Mrs. Melbury Had Told Her As

Soon As She Arrived that Her Husband Had Returned from London.  He

Had Gone Out,  She Said,  To See A Patient,  As She Supposed,  And He

Must Soon Be Back,  Since He Had Had No Dinner Or Tea.  Grace Would

Not Allow Her Mind To Harbor Any Suspicion Of His Whereabouts,  And

Her Step-Mother Said Nothing of Mrs. Charmond'S Rumored sorrows

And Plans Of Departure.

So The Young Wife Sat By The Fire,  Waiting silently.  She Had Left

Hintock In a Turmoil Of Feeling after The Revelation Of Mrs.

Charmond,  And Had Intended not To Be At Home When Her Husband

Returned.  But She Had Thought The Matter Over,  And Had Allowed

Her Father'S Influence To Prevail And Bring her Back; And Now

Somewhat Regretted that Edgar'S Arrival Had Preceded hers.

By-And-By Mrs. Melbury Came Up-Stairs With A Slight Air Of Flurry

And Abruptness.

"I Have Something to Tell--Some Bad News," She Said.  "But You

Must Not Be Alarmed,  As It Is Not So Bad As It Might Have Been.

Edgar Has Been Thrown Off His Horse.  We Don'T Think He Is Hurt

Much.  It Happened in the Wood The Other Side Of Nellcombe Bottom,

Where 'Tis Said The Ghosts Of The Brothers Walk."

She Went On To Give A Few Of The Particulars,  But None Of The

Invented horrors That Had Been Communicated by The Boy.  "I

Thought It Better To Tell You At Once," She Added,  "In Case He

Should Not Be Very Well Able To Walk Home,  And Somebody Should

Bring him."

Mrs. Melbury Really Thought Matters Much Worse Than She

Represented,  And Grace Knew That She Thought So.  She Sat Down

Dazed for A Few Minutes,  Returning a Negative To Her Step-Mother'S

Inquiry If She Could Do Anything for Her.  "But Please Go Into The

Bedroom," Grace Said,  On Second Thoughts,  "And See If All Is Ready

There--In Case It Is Serious." Mrs. Melbury Thereupon Called

Grammer,  And They Did As Directed,  Supplying the Room With

Everything they Could Think Of For The Accommodation Of An Injured

Man.

Nobody Was Left In the Lower Part Of The House.  Not Many Minutes

Passed when Grace Heard A Knock At The Door--A Single Knock,  Not

Loud Enough To Reach The Ears Of Those In the Bedroom.  She Went

To The Top Of The Stairs And Said,  Faintly,  "Come Up," Knowing

That The Door Stood,  As Usual In such Houses,  Wide Open.

Retreating into The Gloom Of The Broad Landing she Saw Rise Up The

Stairs A Woman Whom At First She Did Not Recognize,  Till Her Voice

Revealed her To Be Suke Damson,  In great Fright And Sorrow.  A

Streak Of Light From The Partially Closed door Of Grace'S Room

Fell Upon Her Face As She Came Forward,  And It Was Drawn And Pale.

"Oh,  Miss Melbury--I Would Say Mrs. Fitzpiers," She Said,  Wringing

Her Hands.  "This Terrible News.  Is He Dead? Is He Hurted very

Bad? Tell Me; I Couldn'T Help Coming; Please Forgive Me,  Miss

Melbury--Mrs. Fitzpiers I Would Say!"

Grace Sank Down On The Oak Chest Which Stood On The Landing,  And

Put Her Hands To Her Now Flushed face And Head.  Could She Order

Suke Damson Down-Stairs And Out Of The House? Her Husband Might Be

Brought In at Any Moment,  And What Would Happen? But Could She

Order This Genuinely Grieved woman Away?

There Was A Dead Silence Of Half A Minute Or So,  Till Suke Said,

"Why Don'T Ye Speak? Is He Here? Is He Dead? If So,  Why Can'T I

See Him--Would It Be So Very Wrong?"

Before Grace Had Answered somebody Else Came To The Door Below--A

Foot-Fall Light As A Roe'S.  There Was A Hurried tapping upon The

Panel,  As If With The Impatient Tips Of Fingers Whose Owner

Thought Not Whether A Knocker Were There Or No.  Without A Pause,

And Possibly Guided by The Stray Beam Of Light On The Landing,  The

Newcomer Ascended the Staircase As The First Had Done.  Grace Was

Sufficiently Visible,  And The Lady,  For A Lady It Was,  Came To Her

Side.

"I Could Make Nobody Hear Down-Stairs," Said Felice Charmond,  With

Lips Whose Dryness Could Almost Be Heard,  And Panting,  As She

Stood Like One Ready To Sink On The Floor With Distress.  "What

Is--The Matter--Tell Me The Worst! Can He Live?" She Looked at

Grace Imploringly,  Without Perceiving poor Suke,  Who,  Dismayed at

Such A Presence,  Had Shrunk Away Into The Shade.

Mrs. Charmond'S Little Feet Were Covered with Mud; She Was Quite

Unconscious Of Her Appearance Now.  "I Have Heard Such A Dreadful

Report," She Went On; "I Came To Ascertain The Truth Of It.  Is

He--Killed?"

"She Won'T Tell Us--He'S Dying--He'S In that Room!" Burst Out

Suke,  Regardless Of Consequences,  As She Heard The Distant

Movements Of Mrs. Melbury And Grammer In the Bedroom At The End Of

The Passage.

"Where?" Said Mrs. Charmond; And On Suke Pointing out The

Direction,  She Made As If To Go Thither.

Grace Barred the Way.  "He Is Not There," She Said.  "I Have Not

Seen Him Any More Than You.  I Have Heard A Report Only--Not So

Bad As You Think.  It Must Have Been Exaggerated to You."

"Please Do Not Conceal Anything--Let Me Know All!" Said Felice,

Doubtingly.

"You Shall Know All I Know--You Have A Perfect Right To Know--Who

Can Have A Better Than Either Of You?" Said Grace,  With A Delicate

Sting which Was Lost Upon Felice Charmond Now.  "I Repeat,  I Have

Only Heard A Less Alarming account Than You Have Heard; How Much

It Means,  And How Little,  I Cannot Say.  I Pray God That It Means

Not Much--In Common Humanity.  You Probably Pray The Same--For

Other Reasons."

She Regarded them Both There In the Dim Light A While.

They Stood Dumb In their Trouble,  Not Stinging back At Her; Not

Heeding her Mood.  A Tenderness Spread Over Grace Like A Dew.  It

Was Well,  Very Well,  Conventionally,  To Address Either One Of Them

In The Wife'S Regulation Terms Of Virtuous Sarcasm,  As Woman,

Creature,  Or Thing,  For Losing their Hearts To Her Husband.  But

Life,  What Was It,  And Who Was She?  She Had,  Like The Singer Of

The Psalm Of Asaph,  Been Plagued and Chastened all The Day Long;

But Could She,  By Retributive Words,  In order To Please Herself--

The Individual--"Offend Against The Generation," As He Would Not?

"He Is Dying,  Perhaps," Blubbered suke Damson,  Putting her Apron

To Her Eyes.

In Their Gestures And Faces There Were Anxieties,  Affection,  Agony

Of Heart,  All For A Man Who Had Wronged them--Had Never Really

Behaved towards Either Of Them Anyhow But Selfishly.  Neither One

But Would Have Wellnigh Sacrificed half Her Life To Him,  Even Now.

The Tears Which His Possibly Critical Situation Could Not Bring to

Her Eyes Surged over At The Contemplation Of These Fellow-Women.

She Turned to The Balustrade,  Bent Herself Upon It,  And Wept.

Thereupon Felice Began To Cry Also,  Without Using her

Handkerchief,  And Letting the Tears Run Down Silently.  While

These Three Poor Women Stood Together Thus,  Pitying another Though

Most To Be Pitied themselves,  The Pacing of A Horse Or Horses

Became Audible In the Court,  And In a Moment Melbury'S Voice Was

Heard Calling to His Stableman.  Grace At Once Started up,  Ran

Down The Stairs And Out Into The Quadrangle As Her Father Crossed

It Towards The Door.  "Father,  What Is The Matter With Him?" She

Cried.

"Who--Edgar?" Said Melbury,  Abruptly.  "Matter? Nothing.  What,  My

Dear,  And Have You Got Home Safe? Why,  You Are Better Already! But

You Ought Not To Be Out In the Air Like This."

"But He Has Been Thrown Off His Horse!"

"I Know; I Know.  I Saw It.  He Got Up Again,  And Walked off As

Well As Ever.  A Fall On The Leaves Didn'T Hurt A Spry Fellow Like

Him.  He Did Not Come This Way," He Added,  Significantly.  "I

Suppose He Went To Look For His Horse.  I Tried to Find Him,  But

Could Not.  But After Seeing him Go Away Under The Trees I Found

The Horse,  And Have Led it Home For Safety.  So He Must Walk.

Now,  Don'T You Stay Out Here In this Night Air.

She Returned to The House With Her Father.  When She Had Again

Ascended to The Landing and To Her Own Rooms Beyond It Was A Great

Relief To Her To Find That