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

Was Fixed on The Landscape Far Away,  And Grace'S Approach Was So

Noiseless That He Did Not Hear Her.  When She Came Close She Could

See His Lips Moving unconsciously,  As To Some Impassioned

Visionary Theme.

She Spoke,  And Fitzpiers Started.  "What Are You Looking at?" She

Asked.

"Oh! I Was Contemplating our Old Place Of Buckbury,  In my Idle

Way," He Said.

It Had Seemed to Her That He Was Looking much To The Right Of That

Cradle And Tomb Of His Ancestral Dignity; But She Made No Further

Observation,  And Taking his Arm Walked home Beside Him Almost In

Silence.  She Did Not Know That Middleton Abbey Lay In the

Direction Of His Gaze.  "Are You Going to Have Out Darling this

Afternoon?" She Asked,  Presently.  Darling being the Light-Gray

Mare Which Winterborne Had Bought For Grace,  And Which Fitzpiers

Now Constantly Used,  The Animal Having turned out A Wonderful

Bargain,  In combining a Perfect Docility With An Almost Human

Intelligence; Moreover,  She Was Not Too Young.  Fitzpiers Was

Unfamiliar With Horses,  And He Valued these Qualities.

"Yes," He Replied,  "But Not To Drive.  I Am Riding her.  I

Practise Crossing a Horse As Often As I Can Now,  For I Find That I

Can Take Much Shorter Cuts On Horseback."

He Had,  In fact,  Taken These Riding exercises For About A Week,

Only Since Mrs. Charmond'S Absence,  His Universal Practice

Hitherto Having been To Drive.

Some Few Days Later,  Fitzpiers Started on The Back Of This Horse

To See A Patient In the Aforesaid Vale.  It Was About Five O'Clock

In The Evening when He Went Away,  And At Bedtime He Had Not

Reached home.  There Was Nothing very Singular In this,  Though She

Was Not Aware That He Had Any Patient More Than Five Or Six Miles

Distant In that Direction.  The Clock Had Struck One Before

Fitzpiers Entered the House,  And He Came To His Room Softly,  As If

Anxious Not To Disturb Her.

The Next Morning she Was Stirring considerably Earlier Than He.

In The Yard There Was A Conversation Going on About The Mare; The

Man Who Attended to The Horses,  Darling included,  Insisted that

The Latter Was "Hag-Rid;" For When He Had Arrived at The Stable

That Morning she Was In such A State As No Horse Could Be In by

Honest Riding.  It Was True That The Doctor Had Stabled her

Himself When He Got Home,  So That She Was Not Looked after As She

Would Have Been If He Had Groomed and Fed her; But That Did Not

Account For The Appearance She Presented,  If Mr. Fitzpiers'S

Journey Had Been Only Where He Had Stated.  The Phenomenal

Exhaustion Of Darling,  As Thus Related,  Was Sufficient To Develop

A Whole Series Of Tales About Riding witches And Demons,  The

Narration Of Which Occupied a Considerable Time.

Grace Returned in-Doors.  In passing through The Outer Room She

Picked up Her Husband'S Overcoat Which He Had Carelessly Flung

Down Across A Chair.  A Turnpike Ticket Fell Out Of The Breast-

Pocket,  And She Saw That It Had Been Issued at Middleton Gate.  He

Had Therefore Visited middleton The Previous Night,  A Distance Of

At Least Five-And-Thirty Miles On Horseback,  There And Back.

During the Day She Made Some Inquiries,  And Learned for The First

Time That Mrs. Charmond Was Staying at Middleton Abbey.  She Could

Not Resist An Inference--Strange As That Inference Was.

A Few Days Later He Prepared to Start Again,  At The Same Time And

In The Same Direction.  She Knew That The State Of The Cottager

Who Lived that Way Was A Mere Pretext; She Was Quite Sure He Was

Going to Mrs. Charmond.  Grace Was Amazed at The Mildness Of The

Passion Which The Suspicion Engendered in her.  She Was But Little

Excited,  And Her Jealousy Was Languid Even To Death.  It Told

Tales Of The Nature Of Her Affection For Him.  In truth,  Her

Antenuptial Regard For Fitzpiers Had Been Rather Of The Quality Of

Awe Towards A Superior Being than Of Tender Solicitude For A

Lover.  It Had Been Based upon Mystery And Strangeness--The

Mystery Of His Past,  Of His Knowledge,  Of His Professional Skill,

Of His Beliefs.  When This Structure Of Ideals Was Demolished by

The Intimacy Of Common Life,  And She Found Him As Merely Human As

The Hintock People Themselves,  A New Foundation Was In demand For

An Enduring and Stanch Affection--A Sympathetic Interdependence,

Wherein Mutual Weaknesses Were Made The Grounds Of A Defensive

Alliance.  Fitzpiers Had Furnished none Of That Single-Minded

Confidence And Truth Out Of Which Alone Such A Second Union Could

Spring; Hence It Was With A Controllable Emotion That She Now

Watched the Mare Brought Round.

"I'Ll Walk With You To The Hill If You Are Not In a Great Hurry,"

She Said,  Rather Loath,  After All,  To Let Him Go.

"Do; There'S Plenty Of Time," Replied her Husband.  Accordingly He

Led along The Horse,  And Walked beside Her,  Impatient Enough

Nevertheless.  Thus They Proceeded to The Turnpike Road,  And

Ascended rub-Down Hill To The Gate He Had Been Leaning over When

She Surprised him Ten Days Before.  This Was The End Of Her

Excursion.  Fitzpiers Bade Her Adieu With Affection,  Even With

Tenderness,  And She Observed that He Looked weary-Eyed.

"Why Do You Go To-Night?" She Said.  "You Have Been Called up Two

Nights In succession Already."

"I Must Go," He Answered,  Almost Gloomily.  "Don'T Wait Up For

Me." With These Words He Mounted his Horse,  Passed through The

Gate Which Grace Held Open For Him,  And Ambled down The Steep

Bridle-Track To The Valley.

She Closed the Gate And Watched his Descent,  And Then His Journey

Onward.  His Way Was East,  The Evening sun Which Stood Behind Her

Back Beaming full Upon Him As Soon As He Got Out From The Shade Of

The Hill.  Notwithstanding this Untoward Proceeding she Was

Determined to Be Loyal If He Proved true; And The Determination To

Love One'S Best Will Carry A Heart A Long Way Towards Making that

Best An Ever-Growing thing.  The Conspicuous Coat Of The Active

Though Blanching mare Made Horse And Rider Easy Objects For The

Vision.  Though Darling had Been Chosen With Such Pains By

Winterborne For Grace,  She Had Never Ridden The Sleek Creature;

But Her Husband Had Found The Animal Exceedingly Convenient,

Particularly Now That He Had Taken To The Saddle,  Plenty Of

Staying power Being left In darling yet.  Fitzpiers,  Like Others

Of His Character,  While Despising melbury And His Station,  Did Not

At All Disdain To Spend Melbury'S Money,  Or Appropriate To His Own

Use The Horse Which Belonged to Melbury'S Daughter.

And So The Infatuated young Surgeon Went Along Through The

Gorgeous Autumn Landscape Of White Hart Vale,  Surrounded by

Orchards Lustrous With The Reds Of Apple-Crops,  Berries,  And

Foliage,  The Whole Intensified by The Gilding of The Declining

Sun.  The Earth This Year Had Been Prodigally Bountiful,  And Now

Was The Supreme Moment Of Her Bounty.  In the Poorest Spots The

Hedges Were Bowed with Haws And Blackberries; Acorns Cracked

Underfoot,  And The Burst Husks Of Chestnuts Lay Exposing their

Auburn Contents As If Arranged by Anxious Sellers In a Fruit-

Market.  In all This Proud Show Some Kernels Were Unsound As Her

Own Situation,  And She Wondered if There Were One World In the

Universe Where The Fruit Had No Worm,  And Marriage No Sorrow.

Herr Tannhauser Still Moved on,  His Plodding steed rendering him

Distinctly Visible Yet.  Could She Have Heard Fitzpiers'S Voice At

That Moment She Would Have Found Him Murmuring--

    "...Towards The Loadstar Of My One Desire

     I Flitted,  Even As A Dizzy Moth In the Owlet Light."

But He Was A Silent Spectacle To Her Now.  Soon He Rose Out Of The

Valley,  And Skirted a High Plateau Of The Chalk Formation On His

Right,  Which Rested abruptly Upon The Fruity District Of Loamy

Clay,  The Character And Herbage Of The Two Formations Being so

Distinct That The Calcareous Upland Appeared but As A Deposit Of A

Few Years' Antiquity Upon The Level Vale.  He Kept Along The Edge

Of This High,  Unenclosed country,  And The Sky Behind Him Being

Deep Violet,  She Could Still See White Darling in relief Upon It--

A Mere Speck Now--A Wouvermans Eccentricity Reduced to Microscopic

Dimensions.  Upon This High Ground He Gradually Disappeared.

Thus She Had Beheld The Pet Animal Purchased for Her Own Use,  In

Pure Love Of Her,  By One Who Had Always Been True,  Impressed to

Convey Her Husband Away From Her To The Side Of A New-Found Idol.

While She Was Musing on The Vicissitudes Of Horses And Wives,  She

Discerned shapes Moving up The Valley Towards Her,  Quite Near At

Hand,  Though Till Now Hidden By The Hedges.  Surely They Were

Giles Winterborne,  With His Two Horses And Cider-Apparatus,

Conducted by Robert Creedle.  Up,  Upward They Crept,  A Stray Beam

Of The Sun Alighting every Now And Then Like A Star On The Blades

Of The Pomace-Shovels,  Which Had Been Converted to Steel Mirrors

By The Action Of The Malic Acid.  She Opened the Gate When He Came

Close,  And The Panting horses Rested as They Achieved the Ascent.

"How Do You Do,  Giles?" Said She,  Under A Sudden Impulse To Be

Familiar With Him.

He Replied with Much More Reserve.  "You Are Going for A Walk,

Mrs. Fitzpiers?" He Added.  "It Is Pleasant Just Now."

"No,  I Am Returning," Said She.

The Vehicles Passed through,  The Gate Slammed,  And Winterborne

Walked by Her Side In the Rear Of The Apple-Mill.

He Looked and Smelt Like Autumn'S Very Brother,  His Face Being

Sunburnt To Wheat-Color,  His Eyes Blue As Corn-Flowers,  His Boots

And Leggings Dyed with Fruit-Stains,  His Hands Clammy With