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

She Had Sent For Him In the Natural Alarm Which Might Have

Followed her Mishap,  Or With The Single View Of Making herself

Known To Him As She Had Done,  For Which The Capsize Had Afforded

Excellent Opportunity.  Outside The House He Mused over The Spot

Under The Light Of The Stars.  It Seemed very Strange That He

Should Have Come There More Than Once When Its Inhabitant Was

Absent,  And Observed the House With A Nameless Interest; That He

Should Have Assumed off-Hand Before He Knew Grace That It Was Here

She Lived; That,  In short,  At Sundry Times And Seasons The

Individuality Of Hintock House Should Have Forced itself Upon Him

As Appertaining to Some Existence With Which He Was Concerned.

The Intersection Of His Temporal Orbit With Mrs. Charmond'S For A

Day Or Two In the Past Had Created a Sentimental Interest In her

At The Time,  But It Had Been So Evanescent That In the Ordinary

Onward Roll Of Affairs He Would Scarce Ever Have Recalled it

Again.  To Find Her Here,  However,  In these Somewhat Romantic

Circumstances,  Magnified that By-Gone And Transitory Tenderness To

Indescribable Proportions.

On Entering little Hintock He Found Himself Regarding it In a New

Way--From The Hintock House Point Of View Rather Than From His Own

And The Melburys'.  The Household Had All Gone To Bed,  And As He

Went Up-Stairs He Heard The Snore Of The Timber-Merchant From His

Quarter Of The Building,  And Turned into The Passage Communicating

With His Own Rooms In a Strange Access Of Sadness.  A Light Was

Burning for Him In the Chamber; But Grace,  Though In bed,  Was Not

Asleep.  In a Moment Her Sympathetic Voice Came From Behind The

Curtains.

"Edgar,  Is She Very Seriously Hurt?"

Fitzpiers Had So Entirely Lost Sight Of Mrs. Charmond As A Patient

That He Was Not On The Instant Ready With A Reply.

"Oh No," He Said.  "There Are No Bones Broken,  But She Is Shaken.

I Am Going again To-Morrow."

Another Inquiry Or Two,  And Grace Said,

"Did She Ask For Me?"

"Well--I Think She Did--I Don'T Quite Remember; But I Am Under The

Impression That She Spoke Of You."

"Cannot You Recollect At All What She Said?"

"I Cannot,  Just This Minute."

"At Any Rate She Did Not Talk Much About Me?" Said Grace With

Disappointment.

"Oh No."

"But You Did,  Perhaps," She Added,  Innocently Fishing for A

Compliment.

"Oh Yes--You May Depend Upon That!" Replied he,  Warmly,  Though

Scarcely Thinking of What He Was Saving,  So Vividly Was There

Present To His Mind The Personality Of Mrs. Charmond.

The Doctor'S Professional Visit To Hintock House Was Promptly

Repeated the Next Day And The Next.  He Always Found Mrs. Charmond

Reclining on A Sofa,  And Behaving generally As Became A Patient

Who Was In no Great Hurry To Lose That Title.  On Each Occasion He

Looked gravely At The Little Scratch On Her Arm,  As If It Had Been

A Serious Wound.

He Had Also,  To His Further Satisfaction,  Found A Slight Scar On

Her Temple,  And It Was Very Convenient To Put A Piece Of Black

Plaster On This Conspicuous Part Of Her Person In preference To

Gold-Beater'S Skin,  So That It Might Catch The Eyes Of The

Servants,  And Make His Presence Appear Decidedly Necessary,  In

Case There Should Be Any Doubt Of The Fact.

"Oh--You Hurt Me!" She Exclaimed one Day.

He Was Peeling off The Bit Of Plaster On Her Arm,  Under Which The

Scrape Had Turned the Color Of An Unripe Blackberry Previous To

Vanishing altogether.  "Wait A Moment,  Then--I'Ll Damp It," Said

Fitzpiers.  He Put His Lips To The Place And Kept Them There Till

The Plaster Came Off Easily.  "It Was At Your Request I Put It

On," Said He.

"I Know It," She Replied.  "Is That Blue Vein Still In my Temple

That Used to Show There?  The Scar Must Be Just Upon It.  If The

Cut Had Been A Little Deeper It Would Have Spilt My Hot Blood

Indeed!" Fitzpiers Examined so Closely That His Breath Touched her

Tenderly,  At Which Their Eyes Rose To An Encounter--Hers Showing

Themselves As Deep And Mysterious As Interstellar Space.  She

Turned her Face Away Suddenly.  "Ah! None Of That! None Of That--I

Cannot Coquet With You!" She Cried.  "Don'T Suppose I Consent To

For One Moment.  Our Poor,  Brief,  Youthful Hour Of Love-Making was

Too Long Ago To Bear Continuing now.  It Is As Well That We Should

Understand Each Other On That Point Before We Go Further."

"Coquet! Nor I With You.  As It Was When I Found The Historic

Gloves,  So It Is Now.  I Might Have Been And May Be Foolish; But I

Am No Trifler.  I Naturally Cannot Forget That Little Space In

Which I Flitted across The Field Of Your Vision In those Days Of

The Past,  And The Recollection Opens Up All Sorts Of Imaginings."

"Suppose My Mother Had Not Taken Me Away?" She Murmured,  Her

Dreamy Eyes Resting on The Swaying tip Of A Distant Tree.

"I Should Have Seen You Again."

"And Then?"

"Then The Fire Would Have Burned higher And Higher.  What Would

Have Immediately Followed i Know Not; But Sorrow And Sickness Of

Heart At Last."

"Why?"

"Well--That'S The End Of All Love,  According to Nature'S Law.  I

Can Give No Other Reason."

"Oh,  Don'T Speak Like That," She Exclaimed.  "Since We Are Only

Picturing the Possibilities Of That Time,  Don'T,  For Pity'S Sake,

Spoil The Picture." Her Voice Sank Almost To A Whisper As She

Added,  With An Incipient Pout Upon Her Full Lips,  "Let Me Think At

Least That If You Had Really Loved me At All Seriously,  You Would

Have Loved me For Ever And Ever!"

"You Are Right--Think It With All Your Heart," Said He.  "It Is A

Pleasant Thought,  And Costs Nothing."

She Weighed that Remark In silence A While.  "Did You Ever Hear

Anything of Me From Then Till Now?" She Inquired.

"Not A Word."

"So Much The Better.  I Had To Fight The Battle Of Life As Well As

You.  I May Tell You About It Some Day.  But Don'T Ever Ask Me To

Do It,  And Particularly Do Not Press Me To Tell You Now."

Thus The Two Or Three Days That They Had Spent In tender

Acquaintance On The Romantic Slopes Above The Neckar Were

Stretched out In retrospect To The Length And Importance Of Years;

Made To Form A Canvas For Infinite Fancies,  Idle Dreams,  Luxurious

Melancholies,  And Sweet,  Alluring assertions Which Could Neither

Be Proved nor Disproved.  Grace Was Never Mentioned between Them,

But A Rumor Of His Proposed domestic Changes Somehow Reached her

Ears.

"Doctor,  You Are Going away," She Exclaimed,  Confronting him With

Accusatory Reproach In her Large Dark Eyes No Less Than In her

Rich Cooing voice.  "Oh Yes,  You Are," She Went On,  Springing to

Her Feet With An Air Which Might Almost Have Been Called

Passionate.  "It Is No Use Denying it.  You Have Bought A Practice

At Budmouth.  I Don'T Blame You.  Nobody Can Live At Hintock--

Least Of All A Professional Man Who Wants To Keep Abreast Of

Recent Discovery.  And There Is Nobody Here To Induce Such A One

To Stay For Other Reasons.  That'S Right,  That'S Right--Go Away!"

"But No,  I Have Not Actually Bought The Practice As Yet,  Though I

Am Indeed in treaty For It.  And,  My Dear Friend,  If I Continue To

Feel About The Business As I Feel At This Moment--Perhaps I May

Conclude Never To Go At All."

"But You Hate Hintock,  And Everybody And Everything in it That You

Don'T Mean To Take Away With You?"

Fitzpiers Contradicted this Idea In his Most Vibratory Tones,  And

She Lapsed into The Frivolous Archness Under Which She Hid

Passions Of No Mean Strength--Strange,  Smouldering,  Erratic

Passions,  Kept Down Like A Stifled conflagration,  But Bursting out

Now Here,  Now There--The Only Certain Element In their Direction

Being its Unexpectedness.  If One Word Could Have Expressed her It

Would Have Been Inconsequence.  She Was A Woman Of Perversities,

Delighting in frequent Contrasts.  She Liked mystery,  In her Life,

In Her Love,  In her History.  To Be Fair To Her,  There Was Nothing

In The Latter Which She Had Any Great Reason To Be Ashamed of,  And

Many Things Of Which She Might Have Been Proud; But It Had Never

Been Fathomed by The Honest Minds Of Hintock,  And She Rarely

Volunteered her Experiences.  As For Her Capricious Nature,  The

People On Her Estates Grew Accustomed to It,  And With That

Marvellous Subtlety Of Contrivance In steering round Odd Tempers,

That Is Found In sons Of The Soil And Dependants Generally,  They

Managed to Get Along Under Her Government Rather Better Than They

Would Have Done Beneath A More Equable Rule.

Now,  With Regard To The Doctor'S Notion Of Leaving hintock,  He Had

Advanced furthur Towards Completing the Purchase Of The Budmouth

Surgeon'S Good-Will Than He Had Admitted to Mrs. Charmond.  The

Whole Matter Hung Upon What He Might Do In the Ensuing twenty-Four

Hours.  The Evening after Leaving her He Went Out Into The Lane,

And Walked and Pondered between The High Hedges,  Now Greenish-

White With Wild Clematis--Here Called "Old-Man'S Beard," From Its

Aspect Later In the Year.

The Letter Of Acceptance Was To Be Written That Night,  After Which

His Departure From Hintock Would Be Irrevocable.  But Could He Go

Away,  Remembering what Had Just Passed? The Trees,  The Hills,  The

Leaves,  The Grass--Each Had Been Endowed and Quickened with A

Subtle Charm Since He Had Discovered the Person And History,  And,

Above All,  Mood Of Their Owner.  There Was Every Temporal Reason

For Leaving; It Would Be Entering again Into A World Which He Had

Only Quitted in a Passion For Isolation,  Induced by A