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

Up With Pious Strictness,  For The Purpose Of Putting snow-Drops,

Primroses,  And Other Vernal Flowers Thereon As They Came.

One Afternoon At Sunset She Was Standing just Outside Her Father'S

Garden,  Which,  Like The Rest Of The Hintock Enclosures,  Abutted

Into The Wood.  A Slight Foot-Path Led along Here,  Forming a

Secret Way To Either Of The Houses By Getting through Its Boundary

Hedge.  Grace Was Just About To Adopt This Mode Of Entry When A

Figure Approached along The Path,  And Held Up His Hand To Detain

Her.  It Was Her Husband.

"I Am Delighted," He Said,  Coming up Out Of Breath; And There

Seemed no Reason To Doubt His Words.  "I Saw You Some Way Off--I

Was Afraid You Would Go In before I Could Reach You."

"It Is A Week Before The Time," Said She,  Reproachfully.  "I Said

A Fortnight From The Last Meeting."

"My Dear,  You Don'T Suppose I Could Wait A Fortnight Without

Trying to Get A Glimpse Of You,  Even Though You Had Declined to

Meet Me! Would It Make You Angry To Know That I Have Been Along

This Path At Dusk Three Or Four Times Since Our Last Meeting?

Well,  How Are You?"

She Did Not Refuse Her Hand,  But When He Showed a Wish To Retain

It A Moment Longer Than Mere Formality Required,  She Made It

Smaller,  So That It Slipped away From Him,  With Again That Same

Alarmed look Which Always Followed his Attempts In this Direction.

He Saw That She Was Not Yet Out Of The Elusive Mood; Not Yet To Be

Treated presumingly; And He Was Correspondingly Careful To

Tranquillize Her.

His Assertion Had Seemed to Impress Her Somewhat.  "I Had No Idea

You Came So Often," She Said.  "How Far Do You Come From?"

"From Exbury.  I Always Walk From Sherton-Abbas,  For If I Hire,

People Will Know That I Come; And My Success With You So Far Has

Not Been Great Enough To Justify Such Overtness.  Now,  My Dear

One--As I Must Call You--I Put It To You: Will You See Me A Little

Oftener As The Spring advances?"

Grace Lapsed into Unwonted sedateness,  And Avoiding the Question,

Said,  "I Wish You Would Concentrate On Your Profession,  And Give

Up Those Strange Studies That Used to Distract You So Much.  I Am

Sure You Would Get On."

"It Is The Very Thing i Am Doing.  I Was Going to Ask You To Burn--

Or,  At Least,  Get Rid Of--All My Philosophical Literature.  It Is

In The Bookcases In your Rooms.  The Fact Is,  I Never Cared much

For Abstruse Studies."

"I Am So Glad To Hear You Say That.  And Those Other Books--Those

Piles Of Old Plays--What Good Are They To A Medical Man?"

"None Whatever!" He Replied,  Cheerfully.  "Sell Them At Sherton

For What They Will Fetch."

"And Those Dreadful Old French Romances,  With Their Horrid

Spellings Of 'Filz' And 'Ung' And 'Ilz' And 'Mary' And 'Ma Foy?'"

"You Haven'T Been Reading them,  Grace?"

"Oh No--I Just Looked into Them,  That Was All."

"Make A Bonfire Of 'Em Directly You Get Home.  I Meant To Do It

Myself.  I Can'T Think What Possessed me Ever To Collect Them.  I

Have Only A Few Professional Hand-Books Now,  And Am Quite A

Practical Man.  I Am In hopes Of Having some Good News To Tell You

Soon,  And Then Do You Think You Could--Come To Me Again?"

"I Would Rather You Did Not Press Me On That Just Now," She

Replied,  With Some Feeling.  "You Have Said You Mean To Lead A

New,  Useful,  Effectual Life; But I Should Like To See You Put It

In Practice For A Little While Before You Address That Query To

Me.  Besides--I Could Not Live With You."

"Why Not?"

Grace Was Silent A Few Instants.  "I Go With Marty To Giles'S

Grave.  We Swore We Would Show Him That Devotion.  And I Mean To

Keep It Up."

"Well,  I Wouldn'T Mind That At All.  I Have No Right To Expect

Anything else,  And I Will Not Wish You To Keep Away.  I Liked the

Man As Well As Any I Ever Knew.  In short,  I Would Accompany You A

Part Of The Way To The Place,  And Smoke A Cigar On The Stile While

I Waited till You Came Back."

"Then You Haven'T Given Up Smoking?"

"Well--Ahem--No.  I Have Thought Of Doing so,  But--"

His Extreme Complacence Had Rather Disconcerted grace,  And The

Question About Smoking had Been To Effect A Diversion.  Presently

She Said,  Firmly,  And With A Moisture In her Eye That He Could Not

See,  As Her Mind Returned to Poor Giles'S "Frustrate Ghost,"  "I

Don'T Like You--To Speak Lightly On That Subject,  If You Did Speak

Lightly.  To Be Frank With You--Quite Frank--I Think Of Him As My

Betrothed lover Still.  I Cannot Help It.  So That It Would Be

Wrong For Me To Join You."

Fitzpiers Was Now Uneasy.  "You Say Your Betrothed lover Still,"

He Rejoined.  "When,  Then,  Were You Betrothed to Him,  Or Engaged,

As We Common People Say?"

"When You Were Away."

"How Could That Be?"

Grace Would Have Avoided this; But Her Natural Candor Led her On.

"It Was When I Was Under The Impression That My Marriage With You

Was About To Be Annulled,  And That He Could Then Marry Me.  So I

Encouraged him To Love Me."

Fitzpiers Winced visibly; And Yet,  Upon The Whole,  She Was Right

In Telling it.  Indeed,  His Perception That She Was Right In her

Absolute Sincerity Kept Up His Affectionate Admiration For Her

Under The Pain Of The Rebuff.  Time Had Been When The Avowal That

Grace Had Deliberately Taken Steps To Replace Him Would Have

Brought Him No Sorrow.  But She So Far Dominated him Now That He

Could Not Bear To Hear Her Words,  Although The Object Of Her High

Regard Was No More.

"It Is Rough Upon Me--That!" He Said,  Bitterly.  "Oh,  Grace--I Did

Not Know You--Tried to Get Rid Of Me!  I Suppose It Is Of No Use,

But I Ask,  Cannot You Hope To--Find A Little Love In your Heart

For Me Again?"

"If I Could I Would Oblige You; But I Fear I Cannot!" She Replied,

With Illogical Ruefulness.  "And I Don'T See Why You Should Mind

My Having had One Lover Besides Yourself In my Life,  When You Have

Had So Many."

"But I Can Tell You Honestly That I Love You Better Than All Of

Them Put Together,  And That'S What You Will Not Tell Me!"

"I Am Sorry; But I Fear I Cannot," She Said,  Sighing again.

"I Wonder If You Ever Will?" He Looked musingly Into Her

Indistinct Face,  As If He Would Read The Future There.  "Now Have

Pity,  And Tell Me: Will You Try?"

"To Love You Again?"

"Yes; If You Can."

"I Don'T Know How To Reply," She Answered,  Her Embarrassment

Proving her Truth.  "Will You Promise To Leave Me Quite Free As To

Seeing you Or Not Seeing you?"

"Certainly.  Have I Given Any Ground For You To Doubt My First

Promise In that Respect?"

She Was Obliged to Admit That He Had Not.

"Then I Think That You Might Get Your Heart Out Of That Grave,"

Said He,  With Playful Sadness.  "It Has Been There A Long Time."

She Faintly Shook Her Head,  But Said,  "I'Ll Try To Think Of You

More--If I Can."

With This Fitzpiers Was Compelled to Be Satisfied,  And He Asked

Her When She Would Meet Him Again.

"As We Arranged--In A Fortnight."

"If It Must Be A Fortnight It Must!"

"This Time At Least.  I'Ll Consider By The Day I See You Again If

I Can Shorten The Interval."

"Well,  Be That As It May,  I Shall Come At Least Twice A Week To

Look At Your Window."

"You Must Do As You Like About That.  Good-Night."

"Say 'Husband.'"

She Seemed almost Inclined to Give Him The Word; But Exclaiming,

"No,  No; I Cannot," Slipped through The Garden-Hedge And

Disappeared.

Fitzpiers Did Not Exaggerate When He Told Her That He Should Haunt

The Precincts Of The Dwelling.  But His Persistence In this Course

Did Not Result In his Seeing her Much Oftener Than At The

Fortnightly Interval Which She Had Herself Marked out As Proper.

At These Times,  However,  She Punctually Appeared,  And As The

Spring wore On The Meetings Were Kept Up,  Though Their Character

Changed but Little With The Increase In their Number.

The Small Garden Of The Cottage Occupied by The Tangs Family--

Father,  Son,  And Now Son'S Wife--Aligned with The Larger One Of

The Timber-Dealer At Its Upper End; And When Young Tim,  After

Leaving work At Melbury'S,  Stood At Dusk In the Little Bower At

The Corner Of His Enclosure To Smoke A Pipe,  He Frequently

Observed the Surgeon Pass Along The Outside Track Before-

Mentioned.  Fitzpiers Always Walked loiteringly,  Pensively,

Looking with A Sharp Eye Into The Gardens One After Another As He

Proceeded; For Fitzpiers Did Not Wish To Leave The Now Absorbing

Spot Too Quickly,  After Travelling so Far To Reach It; Hoping

Always For A Glimpse Of Her Whom He Passionately Desired to Take

To His Arms Anew.

Now Tim Began To Be Struck With These Loitering progresses Along

The Garden Boundaries In the Gloaming,  And Wondered what They

Boded.  It Was,  Naturally,  Quite Out Of His Power To Divine The

Singular,  Sentimental Revival In fitzpiers'S Heart; The Fineness

Of Tissue Which Could Take A Deep,  Emotional--Almost Also An

Artistic--Pleasure In being the Yearning inamorato Of A Woman He

Once Had Deserted,  Would Have Seemed an Absurdity To The Young

Sawyer.  Mr. And Mrs. Fitzpiers Were Separated; Therefore The

Question Of Affection As Between Them Was Settled.  But His Suke

Had,  Since That Meeting on Their Marriage-Day,