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

Sat Down On The Well-Scrubbed settle,  Opposite The Narrow Table

With Its Knives And Steel Forks,  Tin Pepper-Boxes,  Blue Salt-

Cellars,  And Posters Advertising the Sale Of Bullocks Against The

Wall.  The Last Time That She Had Taken Any Meal In a Public Place

It Had Been With Fitzpiers At The Grand New Earl Of Wessex Hotel

In That Town,  After A Two Months' Roaming and Sojourning at The

Gigantic Hotels Of The Continent.  How Could She Have Expected any

Other Kind Of Accommodation In present Circumstances Than Such As

Giles Had Provided? And Yet How Unprepared she Was For This

Change! The Tastes That She Had Acquired from Fitzpiers Had Been

Imbibed so Subtly That She Hardly Knew She Possessed them Till

Confronted by This Contrast.  The Elegant Fitzpiers,  In fact,  At

That Very Moment Owed a Long Bill At The Above-Mentioned hotel For

The Luxurious Style In which He Used to Put Her Up There Whenever

They Drove To Sherton.  But Such Is Social Sentiment,  That She Had

Been Quite Comfortable Under Those Debt-Impending conditions,

While She Felt Humiliated by Her Present Situation,  Which

Winterborne Had Paid For Honestly On The Nail.

He Had Noticed in a Moment That She Shrunk From Her Position,  And

All His Pleasure Was Gone.  It Was The Same Susceptibility Over

Again Which Had Spoiled his Christmas Party Long Ago.

But He Did Not Know That This Recrudescence Was Only The Casual

Result Of Grace'S Apprenticeship To What She Was Determined to

Learn In spite Of It--A Consequence Of One Of Those Sudden

Surprises Which Confront Everybody Bent Upon Turning over A New

Leaf.  She Had Finished her Lunch,  Which He Saw Had Been A Very

Mincing performance; And He Brought Her Out Of The House As Soon

As He Could.

"Now," He Said,  With Great Sad Eyes,  "You Have Not Finished at All

Well,  I Know.  Come Round To The Earl Of Wessex.  I'Ll Order A Tea

There.  I Did Not Remember That What Was Good Enough For Me Was

Not Good Enough For You."

Her Face Faded into An Aspect Of Deep Distress When She Saw What

Had Happened.  "Oh No,  Giles," She Said,  With Extreme Pathos;

"Certainly Not.  Why Do You--Say That When You Know Better?  You

Ever Will Misunderstand Me."

"Indeed,  That'S Not So,  Mrs. Fitzpiers.  Can You Deny That You

Felt Out Of Place At The Three Tuns?"

"I Don'T Know.  Well,  Since You Make Me Speak,  I Do Not Deny It."

"And Yet I Have Felt At Home There These Twenty Years.  Your

Husband Used always To Take You To The Earl Of Wessex,  Did He

Not?"

"Yes," She Reluctantly Admitted.  How Could She Explain In the

Street Of A Market-Town That It Was Her Superficial And Transitory

Taste Which Had Been Offended,  And Not Her Nature Or Her

Affection? Fortunately,  Or Unfortunately,  At That Moment They Saw

Melbury'S Man Driving vacantly Along The Street In search Of Her,

The Hour Having passed at Which He Had Been Told To Take Her Up.

Winterborne Hailed him,  And She Was Powerless Then To Prolong The

Discourse.  She Entered the Vehicle Sadly,  And The Horse Trotted

Away.

All Night Did Winterborne Think Over That Unsatisfactory Ending of

A Pleasant Time,  Forgetting the Pleasant Time Itself.  He Feared

Anew That They Could Never Be Happy Together,  Even Should She Be

Free To Choose Him.  She Was Accomplished; He Was Unrefined.  It

Was The Original Difficulty,  Which He Was Too Sensitive To

Recklessly Ignore,  As Some Men Would Have Done In his Place.

He Was One Of Those Silent,  Unobtrusive Beings Who Want Little

From Others In the Way Of Favor Or Condescension,  And Perhaps On

That Very Account Scrutinize Those Others' Behavior Too Closely.

He Was Not Versatile,  But One In whom A Hope Or Belief Which Had

Once Had Its Rise,  Meridian,  And Decline Seldom Again Exactly

Recurred,  As In the Breasts Of More Sanguine Mortals.  He Had Once

Worshipped her,  Laid Out His Life To Suit Her,  Wooed her,  And Lost

Her.  Though It Was With Almost The Same Zest,  It Was With Not

Quite The Same Hope,  That He Had Begun To Tread The Old Tracks

Again,  And Allowed himself To Be So Charmed with Her That Day.

Move Another Step Towards Her He Would Not.  He Would Even Repulse

Her--As A Tribute To Conscience.  It Would Be Sheer Sin To Let Her

Prepare A Pitfall For Her Happiness Not Much Smaller Than The

First By Inveigling her Into A Union With Such As He.  Her Poor

Father Was Now Blind To These Subtleties,  Which He Had Formerly

Beheld As In noontide Light.  It Was His Own Duty To Declare Them--

For Her Dear Sake.

Grace,  Too,  Had A Very Uncomfortable Night,  And Her Solicitous

Embarrassment Was Not Lessened the Next Morning when Another

Letter From Her Father Was Put Into Her Hands.  Its Tenor Was An

Intenser Strain Of The One That Had Preceded it.  After Stating

How Extremely Glad He Was To Hear That She Was Better,  And Able To

Get Out-Of-Doors,  He Went On:

"This Is A Wearisome Business,  The Solicitor We Have Come To See

Being out Of Town.  I Do Not Know When I Shall Get Home.  My Great

Anxiety In this Delay Is Still Lest You Should Lose Giles

Winterborne.  I Cannot Rest At Night For Thinking that While Our

Business Is Hanging fire He May Become Estranged,  Or Go Away From

The Neighborhood.  I Have Set My Heart Upon Seeing him Your

Husband,  If You Ever Have Another.  Do,  Then,  Grace,  Give Him Some

Temporary Encouragement,  Even Though It Is Over-Early.  For When I

Consider The Past I Do Think God Will Forgive Me And You For Being

A Little Forward.  I Have Another Reason For This,  My Dear.  I

Feel Myself Going rapidly Downhill,  And Late Affairs Have Still

Further Helped me That Way.  And Until This Thing is Done I Cannot

Rest In peace."

He Added a Postscript:

"I Have Just Heard That The Solicitor Is To Be Seen To-Morrow.

Possibly,  Therefore,  I Shall Return In the Evening after You Get

This."

The Paternal Longing ran On All Fours With Her Own Desire; And Yet

In Forwarding it Yesterday She Had Been On The Brink Of Giving

Offence.  While Craving to Be A Country Girl Again Just As Her

Father Requested; To Put Off The Old Eve,  The Fastidious Miss--Or

Rather Madam--Completely,  Her First Attempt Had Been Beaten By The

Unexpected vitality Of That Fastidiousness.  Her Father On

Returning and Seeing the Trifling coolness Of Giles Would Be Sure

To Say That The Same Perversity Which Had Led her To Make

Difficulties About Marrying fitzpiers Was Now Prompting her To

Blow Hot And Cold With Poor Winterborne.

If The Latter Had Been The Most Subtle Hand At Touching the Stops

Of Her Delicate Soul Instead Of One Who Had Just Bound Himself To

Let Her Drift Away From Him Again (If She Would) On The Wind Of

Her Estranging education,  He Could Not Have Acted more Seductively

Than He Did That Day.  He Chanced to Be Superintending some

Temporary Work In a Field Opposite Her Windows.  She Could Not

Discover What He Was Doing,  But She Read His Mood Keenly And

Truly: She Could See In his Coming and Going an Air Of Determined

Abandonment Of The Whole Landscape That Lay In her Direction.

Oh,  How She Longed to Make It Up With Him! Her Father Coming in

The Evening--Which Meant,  She Supposed,  That All Formalities Would

Be In train,  Her Marriage Virtually Annulled,  And She Be Free To

Be Won Again--How Could She Look Him In the Face If He Should See

Them Estranged thus?

It Was A Fair Green Evening in june.  She Was Seated in the

Garden,  In the Rustic Chair Which Stood Under The Laurel-Bushes--

Made Of Peeled oak-Branches That Came To Melbury'S Premises As

Refuse After Barking-Time.  The Mass Of Full-Juiced leafage On The

Heights Around Her Was Just Swayed into Faint Gestures By A Nearly

Spent Wind Which,  Even In its Enfeebled state,  Did Not Reach Her

Shelter.  All Day She Had Expected giles To Call--To Inquire How

She Had Got Home,  Or Something or Other; But He Had Not Come.  And

He Still Tantalized her By Going athwart And Across That Orchard

Opposite.  She Could See Him As She Sat.

A Slight Diversion Was Presently Created by Creedle Bringing him A

Letter.  She Knew From This That Creedle Had Just Come From

Sherton,  And Had Called as Usual At The Post-Office For Anything

That Had Arrived by The Afternoon Post,  Of Which There Was No

Delivery At Hintock.  She Pondered on What The Letter Might

Contain--Particularly Whether It Were A Second Refresher For

Winterborne From Her Father,  Like Her Own Of The Morning.

But It Appeared to Have No Bearing upon Herself Whatever.  Giles

Read Its Contents; And Almost Immediately Turned away To A Gap In

The Hedge Of The Orchard--If That Could Be Called a Hedge Which,

Owing to The Drippings Of The Trees,  Was Little More Than A Bank

With A Bush Upon It Here And There.  He Entered the Plantation,

And Was No Doubt Going that Way Homeward To The Mysterious Hut He

Occupied on The Other Side Of The Woodland.

The Sad Sands Were Running swiftly Through Time'S Glass; She Had

Often Felt It In these Latter Days; And,  Like Giles,  She Felt It

Doubly Now After The Solemn And Pathetic Reminder In her Father'S

Communication.  Her Freshness Would Pass,  The Long-Suffering

Devotion Of Giles Might Suddenly End--Might End That Very Hour.

Men Were So Strange.  The Thought Took Away From Her All Her

Former Reticence,  And Made Her Action Bold.