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

The Cruel Contumely Which She Had Borne At His Hands So Docilely.

"Yes," She Answered; And There Was That In her Subtly Compounded

Nature Which Made Her Feel A Thrill Of Pride As She Did So.

Yet The Moment After She Had So Mightily Belied her Character She

Half Repented.  Her Husband Had Turned as White As The Wall Behind

Him.  It Seemed as If All That Remained to Him Of Life And Spirit

Had Been Abstracted at A Stroke.  Yet He Did Not Move,  And In his

Efforts At Self-Control Closed his Mouth Together As A Vice.  His

Determination Was Fairly Successful,  Though She Saw How Very Much

Greater Than She Had Expected her Triumph Had Been.  Presently He

Looked across At Winterborne.

"Would It Startle You To Hear," He Said,  As If He Hardly Had

Breath To Utter The Words,  "That She Who Was To Me What He Was To

You Is Dead Also?"

"Dead--She Dead?" Exclaimed grace.

"Yes.  Felice Charmond Is Where This Young Man Is."

"Never!" Said Grace,  Vehemently.

He Went On Without Heeding the Insinuation: "And I Came Back To

Try To Make It Up With You--But--"

Fitzpiers Rose,  And Moved across The Room To Go Away,  Looking

Downward With The Droop Of A Man Whose Hope Was Turned to Apathy,

If Not Despair.  In going round The Door His Eye Fell Upon Her

Once More.  She Was Still Bending over The Body Of Winterborne,

Her Face Close To The Young Man'S.

"Have You Been Kissing him During his Illness?" Asked her Husband.

"Yes."

"Since His Fevered state Set In?"

"Yes."

"On His Lips?"

"Yes."

"Then You Will Do Well To Take A Few Drops Of This In water As

Soon As Possible." He Drew A Small Phial From His Pocket And

Returned to Offer It To Her.

Grace Shook Her Head.

"If You Don'T Do As I Tell You You May Soon Be Like Him."

"I Don'T Care.  I Wish To Die."

"I'Ll Put It Here," Said Fitzpiers,  Placing the Bottle On A Ledge

Beside Him.  "The Sin Of Not Having warned you Will Not Be Upon My

Head At Any Rate,  Among My Other Sins.  I Am Now Going,  And I Will

Send Somebody To You.  Your Father Does Not Know That You Are

Here,  So I Suppose I Shall Be Bound To Tell Him?"

"Certainly."

Fitzpiers Left The Cot,  And The Stroke Of His Feet Was Soon

Immersed in the Silence That Prevaded the Spot.  Grace Remained

Kneeling and Weeping,  She Hardly Knew How Long,  And Then She Sat

Up,  Covered poor Giles'S Features,  And Went Towards The Door Where

Her Husband Had Stood.  No Sign Of Any Other Comer Greeted her

Ear,  The Only Perceptible Sounds Being the Tiny Cracklings Of The

Dead Leaves,  Which,  Like A Feather-Bed,  Had Not Yet Done Rising to

Their Normal Level Where Indented by The Pressure Of Her Husband'S

Receding footsteps.  It Reminded her That She Had Been Struck With

The Change In his Aspect; The Extremely Intellectual Look That Had

Always Been In his Face Was Wrought To A Finer Phase By Thinness,

And A Care-Worn Dignity Had Been Superadded.  She Returned to

Winterborne'S Side,  And During her Meditations Another Tread Drew

Near The Door,  Entered the Outer Room,  And Halted at The Entrance

Of The Chamber Where Grace Was.

"What--Marty!" Said Grace.

"Yes.  I Have Heard," Said Marty,  Whose Demeanor Had Lost All Its

Girlishness Under The Stroke That Seemed almost Literally To Have

Bruised her.

"He Died for Me!" Murmured grace,  Heavily.

Marty Did Not Fully Comprehend; And She Answered,  "He Belongs To

Neither Of Us Now,  And Your Beauty Is No More Powerful With Him

Than My Plainness.  I Have Come To Help You,  Ma'Am.  He Never

Cared for Me,  And He Cared much For You; But He Cares For Us Both

Alike Now."

"Oh Don'T,  Don'T,  Marty!"

Marty Said No More,  But Knelt Over Winterborne From The Other

Side.

"Did You Meet My Hus--Mr. Fitzpiers?"

"Then What Brought You Here?"

"I Come This Way Sometimes.  I Have Got To Go To The Farther Side

Of The Wood This Time Of The Year,  And Am Obliged to Get There

Before Four O'Clock In the Morning,  To Begin Heating the Oven For

The Early Baking.  I Have Passed by Here Often At This Time."

Grace Looked at Her Quickly.  "Then Did You Know I Was Here?"

"Yes,  Ma'Am."

"Did You Tell Anybody?"

"No.  I Knew You Lived in the Hut,  That He Had Gied it Up To Ye,

And Lodged out Himself."

"Did You Know Where He Lodged?"

"No.  That I Couldn'T Find Out.  Was It At Delborough?"

"No.  It Was Not There,  Marty.  Would It Had Been! It Would Have

Saved--Saved--" To Check Her Tears She Turned,  And Seeing a Book

On The Window-Bench,  Took It Up.  "Look,  Marty,  This Is A Psalter.

He Was Not An Outwardly Religious Man,  But He Was Pure And Perfect

In His Heart.  Shall We Read A Psalm Over Him?"

"Oh Yes--We Will--With All My Heart!"

Grace Opened the Thin Brown Book,  Which Poor Giles Had Kept At

Hand Mainly For The Convenience Of Whetting his Pen-Knife Upon Its

Leather Covers.  She Began To Read In that Rich,  Devotional Voice

Peculiar To Women Only On Such Occasions.  When It Was Over,  Marty

Said,  "I Should Like To Pray For His Soul."

"So Should I," Said Her Companion.  "But We Must Not."

"Why? Nobody Would Know."

Grace Could Not Resist The Argument,  Influenced as She Was By The

Sense Of Making amends For Having neglected him In the Body; And

Their Tender Voices United and Filled the Narrow Room With

Supplicatory Murmurs That A Calvinist Might Have Envied.  They Had

Hardly Ended when Now And More Numerous Foot-Falls Were Audible,

Also Persons In conversation,  One Of Whom Grace Recognized as Her

Father.

She Rose,  And Went To The Outer Apartment,  In which There Was Only

Such Light As Beamed from The Inner One.  Melbury And Mrs. Melbury

Were Standing there.

"I Don'T Reproach You,  Grace," Said Her Father,  With An Estranged

Manner,  And In a Voice Not At All Like His Old Voice.  "What Has

Come Upon You And Us Is Beyond Reproach,  Beyond Weeping,  And

Beyond Wailing.  Perhaps I Drove You To It.  But I Am Hurt; I Am

Scourged; I Am Astonished.  In the Face Of This There Is Nothing

To Be Said."

Without Replying,  Grace Turned and Glided back To The Inner

Chamber.  "Marty," She Said,  Quickly,  "I Cannot Look My Father In

The Face Until He Knows The True Circumstances Of My Life Here.

Go And Tell Him--What You Have Told Me--What You Saw--That He Gave

Up His House To Me."

She Sat Down,  Her Face Buried in her Hands,  And Marty Went,  And

After A Short Absence Returned.  Then Grace Rose,  And Going out

Asked her Father If He Had Met Her Husband.

"Yes," Said Melbury.

"And You Know All That Has Happened?"

"I Do.  Forgive Me,  Grace,  For Suspecting ye Of Worse Than

Rashness--I Ought To Know Ye Better.  Are You Coming with Me To

What Was Once Your Home?"

"No.  I Stay Here With Him.  Take No Account Of Me Any More."

The Unwonted,  Perplexing,  Agitating relations In which She Had

Stood To Winterborne Quite Lately--Brought About By Melbury'S Own

Contrivance--Could Not Fail To Soften The Natural Anger Of A

Parent At Her More Recent Doings.  "My Daughter,  Things Are Bad,"

He Rejoined.  "But Why Do You Persevere To Make 'Em Worse? What

Good Can You Do To Giles By Staying here With Him? Mind,  I Ask No

Questions.  I Don'T Inquire Why You Decided to Come Here,  Or

Anything as To What Your Course Would Have Been If He Had Not

Died,  Though I Know There'S No Deliberate Harm In ye.  As For Me,

I Have Lost All Claim Upon You,  And I Make No Complaint.  But I Do

Say That By Coming back With Me Now You Will Show No Less Kindness

To Him,  And Escape Any Sound Of Shame.

"But I Don'T Wish To Escape It."

"If You Don'T On Your Own Account,  Cannot You Wish To On Mine And

Hers? Nobody Except Our Household Knows That You Have Left Home.

Then Why Should You,  By A Piece Of Perverseness,  Bring down My

Gray Hairs With Sorrow To The Grave?"

"If It Were Not For My Husband--" She Began,  Moved by His Words.

"But How Can I Meet Him There? How Can Any Woman Who Is Not A Mere

Man'S Creature Join Him After What Has Taken Place?"

"He Would Go Away Again Rather Than Keep You Out Of My House."

"How Do You Know That,  Father?"

"We Met Him On Our Way Here,  And He Told Us So," Said Mrs.

Melbury.  "He Had Said Something like It Before.  He Seems Very

Much Upset Altogether."

"He Declared to Her When He Came To Our House That He Would Wait

For Time And Devotion To Bring about His Forgiveness," Said Her

Husband.  "That Was It,  Wasn'T It,  Lucy?"

"Yes.  That He Would Not Intrude Upon You,  Grace,  Till You Gave

Him Absolute Permission," Mrs. Melbury Added.

This Antecedent Considerateness In fitzpiers Was As Welcome To

Grace As It Was Unexpected; And Though She Did Not Desire His

Presence,  She Was Sorry That By Her Retaliatory Fiction She Had

Given Him A Different Reason For Avoiding her.  She Made No

Further Objections To Accompanying her Parents,  Taking them Into

The Inner Room To Give Winterborne A Last Look,  And Gathering up

The Two Or Three Things That Belonged to Her.  While She Was Doing

This The Two Women Came Who Had Been Called by Melbury,  And At

Their Heels Poor Creedle.

"Forgive Me,  But I Can'T Rule My Mourning nohow As A Man Should,

Mr. Melbury," He Said.  "I