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

Se'Night,  And Have Wondered for Days And Days Where He'S Been

Keeping.  There Was I Expecting him To Come And Tell Me To Wash

Out The Cider-Barrels Against The Making,  And Here Was He-- Well,

I'Ve Knowed him From Table-High; I Knowed his Father--Used to Bide

About Upon Two Sticks In the Sun Afore He Died!--And Now I'Ve Seen

The End Of The Family,  Which We Can Ill Afford To Lose,  Wi' Such A

Scanty Lot Of Good Folk In hintock As We'Ve Got.  And Now Robert

Creedle Will Be Nailed up In parish Boards 'A B'Lieve; And Noboby

Will Glutch Down A Sigh For He!"

They Started for Home,  Marty And Creedle Remaining behind.  For A

Time Grace And Her Father Walked side By Side Without Speaking.

It Was Just In the Blue Of The Dawn,  And The Chilling tone Of The

Sky Was Reflected in her Cold,  Wet Face.  The Whole Wood Seemed to

Be A House Of Death,  Pervaded by Loss To Its Uttermost Length And

Breadth.  Winterborne Was Gone,  And The Copses Seemed to Show The

Want Of Him; Those Young Trees,  So Many Of Which He Had Planted,

And Of Which He Had Spoken So Truly When He Said That He Should

Fall Before They Fell,  Were At That Very Moment Sending out Their

Roots In the Direction That He Had Given Them With His Subtle

Hand.

"One Thing made It Tolerable To Us That Your Husband Should Come

Back To The House," Said Melbury At Last--"The Death Of Mrs.

Charmond."

"Ah,  Yes," Said Grace,  Arousing slightly To The Recollection,  "He

Told Me So."

"Did He Tell You How She Died?  It Was No Such Death As Giles'S.

She Was Shot--By A Disappointed lover.  It Occurred in germany.

The Unfortunate Man Shot Himself Afterwards.  He Was That South

Carolina Gentleman Of Very Passionate Nature Who Used to Haunt

This Place To Force Her To An Interview,  And Followed her About

Everywhere.  So Ends The Brilliant Felice Charmond--Once A Good

Friend To Me--But No Friend To You."

"I Can Forgive Her," Said Grace,  Absently.  "Did Edgar Tell You Of

This?"

"No; But He Put A London Newspaper,  Giving an Account Of It,  On

The Hall Table,  Folded in such A Way That We Should See It.  It

Will Be In the Sherton Paper This Week,  No Doubt.  To Make The

Event More Solemn Still To Him,  He Had Just Before Had Sharp Words

With Her,  And Left Her.  He Told Lucy This,  As Nothing about Him

Appears In the Newspaper.  And The Cause Of The Quarrel Was,  Of

All People,  She We'Ve Left Behind Us."

"Do You Mean Marty?" Grace Spoke The Words But Perfunctorily.

For,  Pertinent And Pointed as Melbury'S Story Was,  She Had No

Heart For It Now.

"Yes.  Marty South."  Melbury Persisted in his Narrative,  To

Divert Her From Her Present Grief,  If Possible.  "Before He Went

Away She Wrote Him A Letter,  Which He Kept In his,  Pocket A Long

While Before Reading.  He Chanced to Pull It Out In mrs.

Charmond'S,  Presence,  And Read It Out Loud.  It Contained

Something which Teased her Very Much,  And That Led to The Rupture.

She Was Following him To Make It Up When She Met With Her Terrible

Death."

Melbury Did Not Know Enough To Give The Gist Of The Incident,

Which Was That Marty South'S Letter Had Been Concerning a Certain

Personal Adornment Common To Herself And Mrs. Charmond.  Her

Bullet Reached its Billet At Last.  The Scene Between Fitzpiers

And Felice Had Been Sharp,  As Only A Scene Can Be Which Arises Out

Of The Mortification Of One Woman By Another In the Presence Of A

Lover.  True,  Marty Had Not Effected it By Word Of Mouth; The

Charge About The Locks Of Hair Was Made Simply By Fitzpiers

Reading her Letter To Him Aloud To Felice In the Playfully

Ironical Tones Of One Who Had Become A Little Weary Of His

Situation,  And Was Finding his Friend,  In the Phrase Of George

Herbert,  A "Flat Delight."  He Had Stroked those False Tresses

With His Hand Many A Time Without Knowing them To Be Transplanted,

And It Was Impossible When The Discovery Was So Abruptly Made To

Avoid Being finely Satirical,  Despite Her Generous Disposition.

That Was How It Had Begun,  And Tragedy Had Been Its End.  On His

Abrupt Departure She Had Followed him To The Station But The Train

Was Gone; And In travelling to Baden In search Of Him She Had Met

His Rival,  Whose Reproaches Led to An Altercation,  And The Death

Of Both.  Of That Precipitate Scene Of Passion And Crime Fitzpiers

Had Known Nothing till He Saw An Account Of It In the Papers,

Where,  Fortunately For Himself,  No Mention Was Made Of His Prior

Acquaintance With The Unhappy Lady; Nor Was There Any Allusion To

Him In the Subsequent Inquiry,  The Double Death Being attributed

To Some Gambling losses,  Though,  In point Of Fact,  Neither One Of

Them Had Visited the Tables.

Melbury And His Daughter Drew Near Their House,  Having seen But

One Living thing on Their Way,  A Squirrel,  Which Did Not Run Up

Its Tree,  But,  Dropping the Sweet Chestnut Which It Carried,  Cried

Chut-Chut-Chut,  And Stamped with Its Hind Legs On The Ground.

When The Roofs And Chimneys Of The Homestead Began To Emerge From

The Screen Of Boughs,  Grace Started,  And Checked herself In her

Abstracted advance.

"You Clearly Understand," She Said To Her Step-Mother Some Of Her

Old Misgiving returning,  "That I Am Coming back Only On Condition

Of His Leaving as He Promised?  Will You Let Him Know This,  That

There May Be No Mistake?"

Mrs. Melbury,  Who Had Some Long Private Talks With Fitzpiers,

Assured grace That She Need have No Doubts On That Point,  And That

He Would Probably Be Gone By The Evening.  Grace Then Entered with

Them Into Melbury'S Wing of The House,  And Sat Down Listlessly In

The Parlor,  While Her Step-Mother Went To Fitzpiers.

The Prompt Obedience To Her Wishes Which The Surgeon Showed did

Honor To Him,  If Anything could.  Before Mrs. Melbury Had Returned

To The Room Grace,  Who Was Sitting on The Parlor Window-Bench,  Saw

Her Husband Go From The Door Under The Increasing light Of

Morning,  With A Bag In his Hand.  While Passing through The Gate

He Turned his Head.  The Firelight Of The Room She Sat In threw

Her Figure Into Dark Relief Against The Window As She Looked

Through The Panes,  And He Must Have Seen Her Distinctly.  In a

Moment He Went On,  The Gate Fell To,  And He Disappeared.  At The

Hut She Had Declared that Another Had Displaced him; And Now She

Had Banished him.

Fitzpiers Had Hardly Been Gone An Hour When Grace Began To Sicken.

The Next Day She Kept Her Room.  Old Jones Was Called in; He

Murmured some Statements In which The Words "Feverish Symptoms"

Occurred.  Grace Heard Them,  And Guessed the Means By Which She

Had Brought This Visitation Upon Herself.

One Day,  While She Still Lay There With Her Head Throbbing,

Wondering if She Were Really Going to Join Him Who Had Gone

Before,  Grammer Oliver Came To Her Bedside.  "I Don'T Know Whe'R

This Is Meant For You To Take,  Ma'Am," She Said,  "But I Have Found

It On The Table.  It Was Left By Marty,  I Think,  When She Came

This Morning."

Grace Turned her Hot Eyes Upon What Grammer Held Up.  It Was The

Phial Left At The Hut By Her Husband When He Had Begged her To

Take Some Drops Of Its Contents If She Wished to Preserve Herself

From Falling a Victim To The Malady Which Had Pulled down

Winterborne.  She Examined it As Well As She Could.  The Liquid

Was Of An Opaline Hue,  And Bore A Label With An Inscription In

Italian.  He Had Probably Got It In his Wanderings Abroad.  She

Knew But Little Italian,  But Could Understand That The Cordial Was

A Febrifuge Of Some Sort.  Her Father,  Her Mother,  And All The

Household Were Anxious For Her Recovery,  And She Resolved to Obey

Her Husband'S Directions.  Whatever The Risk,  If Any,  She Was

Prepared to Run It.  A Glass Of Water Was Brought,  And The Drops

Dropped in.

The Effect,  Though Not Miraculous,  Was Remarkable.  In less Than

An Hour She Felt Calmer,  Cooler,  Better Able To Reflect--Less

Inclined to Fret And Chafe And Wear Herself Away.  She Took A Few

Drops More.  From That Time The Fever Retreated,  And Went Out Like

A Damped conflagration.

"How Clever He Is!" She Said,  Regretfully.  "Why Could He Not Have

Had More Principle,  So As To Turn His Great Talents To Good

Account?  Perhaps He Has Saved my Useless Life.  But He Doesn'T

Know It,  And Doesn'T Care Whether He Has Saved it Or Not; And On

That Account Will Never Be Told By Me! Probably He Only Gave It To

Me In the Arrogance Of His Skill,  To Show The Greatness Of His

Resources Beside Mine,  As Elijah Drew Down Fire From Heaven."

As Soon As She Had Quite Recovered from This Foiled attack Upon

Her Life,  Grace Went To Marty South'S Cottage.  The Current Of Her

Being had Again Set Towards The Lost Giles Winterborne.

"Marty," She Said,  "We Both Loved him.  We Will Go To His Grave

Together."

Great Hintock Church Stood At The Upper Part Of The Village,  And

Could Be Reached without Passing through The Street.  In the Dusk

Of The Late September Day They Went Thither By Secret Ways,

Walking mostly In silence Side By Side,  Each Busied with Her Own

Thoughts.  Grace Had A Trouble Exceeding marty'S--That Haunting

Sense Of Having put Out The Light Of His Life