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

Sweet Juice Of Apples,  His Hat Sprinkled with Pips,  And Everywhere

About Him That Atmosphere Of Cider Which At Its First Return Each

Season Has Such An Indescribable Fascination For Those Who Have

Been Born And Bred among The Orchards.  Her Heart Rose From Its

Late Sadness Like A Released spring; Her Senses Revelled in the

Sudden Lapse Back To Nature Unadorned.  The Consciousness Of

Having to Be Genteel Because Of Her Husband'S Profession,  The

Veneer Of Artificiality Which She Had Acquired at The Fashionable

Schools,  Were Thrown Off,  And She Became The Crude,  Country Girl

Of Her Latent,  Earliest Instincts.

Nature Was Bountiful,  She Thought.  No Sooner Had She Been Starved

Off By Edgar Fitzpiers Than Another Being,  Impersonating bare And

Undiluted manliness,  Had Arisen Out Of The Earth,  Ready To Hand.

This Was An Excursion Of The Imagination Which She Did Not

Encourage,  And She Said Suddenly,  To Disguise The Confused regard

Which Had Followed her Thoughts,  "Did You Meet My Husband?"

Winterborne,  With Some Hesitation,  "Yes."

"Where Did You Meet Him?"

"At Calfhay Cross.  I Come From Middleton Abbey; I Have Been

Making there For The Last Week."

"Haven'T They A Mill Of Their Own?"

"Yes,  But It'S Out Of Repair."

"I Think--I Heard That Mrs. Charmond Had Gone There To Stay?"

"Yes.  I Have Seen Her At The Windows Once Or Twice."

Grace Waited an Interval Before She Went On: "Did Mr. Fitzpiers

Take The Way To Middleton?"

"Yes...I Met Him On Darling." As She Did Not Reply,  He Added,  With

A Gentler Inflection,  "You Know Why The Mare Was Called that?"

"Oh Yes--Of Course," She Answered,  Quickly.

They Had Risen So Far Over The Crest Of The Hill That The Whole

West Sky Was Revealed.  Between The Broken Clouds They Could See

Far Into The Recesses Of Heaven,  The Eye Journeying on Under A

Species Of Golden Arcades,  And Past Fiery Obstructions,  Fancied

Cairns,  Logan-Stones,  Stalactites And Stalagmite Of Topaz.  Deeper

Than This Their Gaze Passed thin Flakes Of Incandescence,  Till It

Plunged into A Bottomless Medium Of Soft Green Fire.

Her Abandonment To The Luscious Time After Her Sense Of Ill-Usage,

Her Revolt For The Nonce Against Social Law,  Her Passionate Desire

For Primitive Life,  May Have Showed in her Face.  Winterborne Was

Looking at Her,  His Eyes Lingering on A Flower That She Wore In

Her Bosom.  Almost With The Abstraction Of A Somnambulist He

Stretched out His Hand And Gently Caressed the Flower.

She Drew Back.  "What Are You Doing,  Giles Winterborne!" She

Exclaimed,  With A Look Of Severe Surprise.  The Evident Absence Of

All Premeditation From The Act,  However,  Speedily Led her To Think

That It Was Not Necessary To Stand Upon Her Dignity Here And Now.

"You Must Bear In mind,  Giles," She Said,  Kindly,  "That We Are Not

As We Were; And Some People Might Have Said That What You Did Was

Taking a Liberty."

It Was More Than She Need have Told Him; His Action Of

Forgetfulness Had Made Him So Angry With Himself That He Flushed

Through His Tan.  "I Don'T Know What I Am Coming to!" He

Exclaimed,  Savagely.  "Ah--I Was Not Once Like This!" Tears Of

Vexation Were In his Eyes.

"No,  Now--It Was Nothing.  I Was Too Reproachful."

"It Would Not Have Occurred to Me If I Had Not Seen Something like

It Done Elsewhere--At Middleton Lately," He Said,  Thoughtfully,

After A While.

"By Whom?"

"Don'T Ask It."

She Scanned him Narrowly.  "I Know Quite Well Enough," She

Returned,  Indifferently.  "It Was By My Husband,  And The Woman Was

Mrs. Charmond.  Association Of Ideas Reminded you When You Saw

Me....Giles--Tell Me All You Know About That--Please Do,  Giles!

But No--I Won'T Hear It.  Let The Subject Cease.  And As You Are

My Friend,  Say Nothing to My Father."

They Reached a Place Where Their Ways Divided.  Winterborne

Continued along The Highway Which Kept Outside The Copse,  And

Grace Opened a Gate That Entered it.

She Walked up The Soft Grassy Ride,  Screened on Either Hand By

Nut-Bushes,  Just Now Heavy With Clusters Of Twos And Threes And

Fours.  A Little Way On,  The Track She Pursued was Crossed by A

Similar One At Right Angles.  Here Grace Stopped; Some Few Yards

Up The Transverse Ride The Buxom Suke Damson Was Visible--Her Gown

Tucked up High Through Her Pocket-Hole,  And No Bonnet On Her Head--

In The Act Of Pulling down Boughs From Which She Was Gathering

And Eating nuts With Great Rapidity,  Her Lover Tim Tangs Standing

Near Her Engaged in the Same Pleasant Meal.

Crack,  Crack Went Suke'S Jaws Every Second Or Two.  By An

Automatic Chain Of Thought Grace'S Mind Reverted to The Tooth-

Drawing scene Described by Her Husband; And For The First Time She

Wondered if That Narrative Were Really True,  Susan'S Jaws Being so

Obviously Sound And Strong.  Grace Turned up Towards The Nut-

Gatherers,  And Conquered her Reluctance To Speak To The Girl Who

Was A Little In advance Of Tim.  "Good-Evening,  Susan," She Said.

"Good-Evening,  Miss Melbury" (Crack).

"Mrs. Fitzpiers."

"Oh Yes,  Ma'Am--Mrs. Fitzpiers," Said Suke,  With A Peculiar Smile.

Grace,  Not To Be Daunted,  Continued: "Take Care Of Your Teeth,

Suke.  That Accounts For The Toothache."

"I Don'T Know What An Ache Is,  Either In tooth,  Ear,  Or Head,

Thank The Lord" (Crack).

"Nor The Loss Of One,  Either?"

"See For Yourself,  Ma'Am." She Parted her Red lips,  And Exhibited

The Whole Double Row,  Full Up And Unimpaired.

"You Have Never Had One Drawn?"

"Never."

"So Much The Better For Your Stomach," Said Mrs. Fitzpiers,  In an

Altered voice.  And Turning away Quickly,  She Went On.

As Her Husband'S Character Thus Shaped itself Under The Touch Of

Time,  Grace Was Almost Startled to Find How Little She Suffered

From That Jealous Excitement Which Is Conventionally Attributed to

All Wives In such Circumstances.  But Though Possessed by None Of

That Feline Wildness Which It Was Her Moral Duty To Experience,

She Did Not Fail To Know That She Had Made A Frightful Mistake In

Her Marriage.  Acquiescence In her Father'S Wishes Had Been

Degradation To Herself.  People Are Not Given Premonitions For

Nothing; She Should Have Obeyed her Impulse On That Early Morning,

And Steadfastly Refused her Hand.

Oh,  That Plausible Tale Which Her Then Betrothed had Told Her

About Suke--The Dramatic Account Of Her Entreaties To Him To Draw

The Aching enemy,  And The Fine Artistic Touch He Had Given To The

Story By Explaining that It Was A Lovely Molar Without A Flaw!

She Traced the Remainder Of The Woodland Track Dazed by The

Complications Of Her Position.  If His Protestations To Her Before

Their Marriage Could Be Believed,  Her Husband Had Felt Affection

Of Some Sort For Herself And This Woman Simultaneously; And Was

Now Again Spreading the Same Emotion Over Mrs. Charmond And

Herself Conjointly,  His Manner Being still Kind And Fond At Times.

But Surely,  Rather Than That,  He Must Have Played the Hypocrite

Towards Her In each Case With Elaborate Completeness; And The

Thought Of This Sickened her,  For It Involved the Conjecture That

If He Had Not Loved her,  His Only Motive For Making her His Wife

Must Have Been Her Little Fortune.  Yet Here Grace Made A Mistake,

For The Love Of Men Like Fitzpiers Is Unquestionably Of Such

Quality As To Bear Division And Transference.  He Had Indeed,  Once

Declared,  Though Not To Her,  That On One Occasion He Had Noticed

Himself To Be Possessed by Five Distinct Infatuations At The Same

Time.  Therein It Differed from The Highest Affection As The Lower

Orders Of The Animal World Differ From Advanced organisms,

Partition Causing,  Not Death,  But A Multiplied existence.  He Had

Loved her Sincerely,  And Had By No Means Ceased to Love Her Now.

But Such Double And Treble Barrelled hearts Were Naturally Beyond

Her Conception.

Of Poor Suke Damson,  Grace Thought No More.  She Had Had Her Day.

"If He Does Not Love Me I Will Not Love Him!" Said Grace,  Proudly.

And Though These Were Mere Words,  It Was A Somewhat Formidable

Thing for Fitzpiers That Her Heart Was Approximating to A State In

Which It Might Be Possible To Carry Them Out.  That Very Absence

Of Hot Jealousy Which Made His Courses So Easy,  And On Which,

Indeed,  He Congratulated himself,  Meant,  Unknown To Either Wife Or

Husband,  More Mischief Than The Inconvenient Watchfulness Of A

Jaundiced eye.

Her Sleep That Night Was Nervous.  The Wing allotted to Her And

Her Husband Had Never Seemed so Lonely.  At Last She Got Up,  Put

On Her Dressing-Gown,  And Went Down-Stairs.  Her Father,  Who Slept

Lightly,  Heard Her Descend,  And Came To The Stair-Head.

"Is That You,  Grace? What'S The Matter?" He Said.

"Nothing more Than That I Am Restless.  Edgar Is Detained by A

Case At Owlscombe In white Hart Vale."

"But How'S That? I Saw The Woman'S Husband At Great Hintock Just

Afore Bedtime; And She Was Going on Well,  And The Doctor Gone

Then."

"Then He'S Detained somewhere Else," Said Grace.  "Never Mind Me;

He Will Soon Be Home.  I Expect Him About One."

She Went Back To Her Room,  And Dozed and Woke Several Times.  One

O'Clock Had Been The Hour Of His Return On The Last Occasion; But

It Passed now By A Long Way,  And Fitzpiers Did Not Come.  Just

Before Dawn She Heard The Men Stirring in the Yard; And The

Flashes Of Their Lanterns Spread Every Now And Then Through Her

Window-Blind.  She Remembered that Her Father Had Told Her Not To

Be Disturbed if She Noticed them,  As They Would Be Rising early To

Send Off Four Loads Of Hurdles To A Distant Sheep-Fair.  Peeping

Out,  She Saw Them Bustling about,  The Hollow-Turner Among The

Rest; He Was Loading his Wares--Wooden-Bowls,  Dishes,  Spigots,

Spoons,  Cheese-Vats,  Funnels,  And So On--Upon One Of Her