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

Almost Appalling.  She Had Looked into Her Heart,  And Found That

Her Early Interest In giles Winterborne Had Become Revitalized

Into Luxuriant Growth By Her Widening perceptions Of What Was

Great And Little In life.  His Homeliness No Longer Offended her

Acquired tastes; His Comparative Want Of So-Called culture Did Not

Now Jar On Her Intellect; His Country Dress Even Pleased her Eye;

His Exterior Roughness Fascinated her.  Having discovered by

Marriage How Much That Was Humanly Not Great Could Co-Exist With

Attainments Of An Exceptional Order,  There Was A Revulsion In her

Sentiments From All That She Had Formerly Clung To In this Kind:

Honesty,  Goodness,  Manliness,  Tenderness,  Devotion,  For Her Only

Existed in their Purity Now In the Breasts Of Unvarnished men; And

Here Was One Who Had Manifested them Towards Her From His Youth

Up.

There Was,  Further,  That Never-Ceasing pity In her Soul For Giles

As A Man Whom She Had Wronged--A Man Who Had Been Unfortunate In

His Worldly Transactions; While,  Not Without A Touch Of Sublimity,

He Had,  Like Horatio,  Borne Himself Throughout His Scathing

    "As One,  In suffering all,  That Suffers Nothing."

It Was These Perceptions,  And No Subtle Catching of Her Husband'S

Murmurs,  That Had Bred the Abstraction Visible In her.

When Her Father Approached the House After Witnessing the

Interview Between Fitzpiers And Mrs. Charmond,  Grace Was Looking

Out Of Her Sitting-Room Window,  As If She Had Nothing to Do,  Or

Think Of,  Or Care For.  He Stood Still.

"Ah,  Grace," He Said,  Regarding her Fixedly.

"Yes,  Father," She Murmured.

"Waiting for Your Dear Husband?" He Inquired,  Speaking with The

Sarcasm Of Pitiful Affection.

"Oh No--Not Especially.  He Has A Great Many Patients To See This

Afternoon."

Melbury Came Quite Close.  "Grace,  What'S The Use Of Talking like

That,  When You Know--Here,  Come Down And Walk With Me Out In the

Garden,  Child."

He Unfastened the Door In the Ivy-Laced wall,  And Waited.  This

Apparent Indifference Alarmed him.  He Would Far Rather That She

Had Rushed in all The Fire Of Jealousy To Hintock House,

Regardless Of Conventionality,  Confronted and Attacked felice

Charmond Unguibus Et Rostro,  And Accused her Even In exaggerated

Shape Of Stealing away Her Husband.  Such A Storm Might Have

Cleared the Air.

She Emerged in a Minute Or Two,  And They Went Inside Together.

"You Know As Well As I Do," He Resumed,  "That There Is Something

Threatening mischief To Your Life; And Yet You Pretend You Do Not.

Do You Suppose I Don'T See The Trouble In your Face Every Day?  I

Am Very Sure That This Quietude Is Wrong Conduct In you.  You

Should Look More Into Matters."

"I Am Quiet Because My Sadness Is Not Of A Nature To Stir Me To

Action."

Melbury Wanted to Ask Her A Dozen Questions--Did She Not Feel

Jealous? Was She Not Indignant? But A Natural Delicacy Restrained

Him.  "You Are Very Tame And Let-Alone,  I Am Bound To Say," He

Remarked,  Pointedly.

"I Am What I Feel,  Father," She Repeated.

He Glanced at Her,  And There Returned upon His Mind The Scene Of

Her Offering to Wed winterborne Instead Of Fitzpiers In the Last

Days Before Her Marriage; And He Asked himself If It Could Be The

Fact That She Loved winterborne,  Now That She Had Lost Him,  More

Than She Had Ever Done When She Was Comparatively Free To Choose

Him.

"What Would You Have Me Do?" She Asked,  In a Low Voice.

He Recalled his Mind From The Retrospective Pain To The Practical

Matter Before Them.  "I Would Have You Go To Mrs. Charmond," He

Said.

"Go To Mrs. Charmond--What For?" Said She.

"Well--If I Must Speak Plain,  Dear Grace--To Ask Her,  Appeal To

Her In the Name Of Your Common Womanhood,  And Your Many Like

Sentiments On Things,  Not To Make Unhappiness Between You And Your

Husband.  It Lies With Her Entirely To Do One Or The Other--That I

Can See."

Grace'S Face Had Heated at Her Father'S Words,  And The Very Rustle

Of Her Skirts Upon The Box-Edging bespoke Hauteur.  "I Shall Not

Think Of Going to Her,  Father--Of Course I Could Not!" She

Answered.

"Why--Don'T 'Ee Want To Be Happier Than You Be At Present?" Said

Melbury,  More Moved on Her Account Than She Was Herself.

"I Don'T Wish To Be More Humiliated.  If I Have Anything to Bear I

Can Bear It In silence."

"But,  My Dear Maid,  You Are Too Young--You Don'T Know What The

Present State Of Things May Lead To.  Just See The Harm Done

A'Ready! Your Husband Would Have Gone Away To Budmouth To A Bigger

Practice If It Had Not Been For This.  Although It Has Gone Such A

Little Way,  It Is Poisoning your Future Even Now.  Mrs. Charmond

Is Thoughtlessly Bad,  Not Bad By Calculation; And Just A Word To

Her Now Might Save 'Ee A Peck Of Woes."

"Ah,  I Loved her Once," Said Grace,  With A Broken Articulation,

"And She Would Not Care For Me Then! Now I No Longer Love Her.

Let Her Do Her Worst: I Don'T Care."

"You Ought To Care.  You Have Got Into A Very Good Position To

Start With.  You Have Been Well Educated,  Well Tended,  And You

Have Become The Wife Of A Professional Man Of Unusually Good

Family.  Surely You Ought To Make The Best Of Your Position."

"I Don'T See That I Ought.  I Wish I Had Never Got Into It.  I

Wish You Had Never,  Never Thought Of Educating me.  I Wish I

Worked in the Woods Like Marty South.  I Hate Genteel Life,  And I

Want To Be No Better Than She."

"Why?" Said Her Amazed father.

"Because Cultivation Has Only Brought Me Inconveniences And

Troubles.  I Say Again,  I Wish You Had Never Sent Me To Those

Fashionable Schools You Set Your Mind On.  It All Arose Out Of

That,  Father.  If I Had Stayed at Home I Should Have Married--"

She Closed up Her Mouth Suddenly And Was Silent; And Be Saw That

She Was Not Far From Crying.

Melbury Was Much Grieved.  "What,  And Would You Like To Have Grown

Up As We Be Here In hintock--Knowing no More,  And With No More

Chance Of Seeing good Life Than We Have Here?"

"Yes.  I Have Never Got Any Happiness Outside Hintock That I Know

Of,  And I Have Suffered many A Heartache At Being sent Away.  Oh,

The Misery Of Those January Days When I Had Got Back To School,

And Left You All Here In the Wood So Happy.  I Used to Wonder Why

I Had To Bear It.  And I Was Always A Little Despised by The Other

Girls At School,  Because They Knew Where I Came From,  And That My

Parents Were Not In so Good A Station As Theirs."

Her Poor Father Was Much Hurt At What He Thought Her Ingratitude

And Intractability.  He Had Admitted to Himself Bitterly Enough

That He Should Have Let Young Hearts Have Their Way,  Or Rather

Should Have Helped on Her Affection For Winterborne,  And Given Her

To Him According to His Original Plan; But He Was Not Prepared for

Her Deprecation Of Those Attainments Whose Completion Had Been A

Labor Of Years,  And A Severe Tax Upon His Purse.

"Very Well," He Said,  With Much Heaviness Of Spirit.  "If You

Don'T Like To Go To Her I Don'T Wish To Force You."

And So The Question Remained for Him Still: How Should He Remedy

This Perilous State Of Things?  For Days He Sat In a Moody

Attitude Over The Fire,  A Pitcher Of Cider Standing on The Hearth

Beside Him,  And His Drinking-Horn Inverted upon The Top Of It.  He

Spent A Week And More Thus Composing a Letter To The Chief

Offender,  Which He Would Every Now And Then Attempt To Complete,

And Suddenly Crumple Up In his Hand.

As February Merged in march,  And Lighter Evenings Broke The Gloom

Of The Woodmen'S Homeward Journey,  The Hintocks Great And Little

Began To Have Ears For A Rumor Of The Events Out Of Which Had

Grown The Timber-Dealer'S Troubles.  It Took The Form Of A Wide

Sprinkling of Conjecture,  Wherein No Man Knew The Exact Truth.

Tantalizing phenomena,  At Once Showing and Concealing the Real

Relationship Of The Persons Concerned,  Caused a Diffusion Of

Excited surprise.  Honest People As The Woodlanders Were,  It Was

Hardly To Be Expected that They Could Remain Immersed in the Study

Of Their Trees And Gardens Amid Such Circumstances,  Or Sit With

Their Backs Turned like The Good Burghers Of Coventry At The

Passage Of The Beautiful Lady.

Rumor,  For A Wonder,  Exaggerated little.  There Were,  In fact,  In

This Case As In thousands,  The Well-Worn Incidents,  Old As The

Hills,  Which,  With Individual Variations,  Made A Mourner Of

Ariadne,  A By-Word Of Vashti,  And A Corpse Of The Countess Amy.

There Were Rencounters Accidental And Contrived,  Stealthy

Correspondence,  Sudden Misgivings On One Side,  Sudden Self-

Reproaches On The Other.  The Inner State Of The Twain Was One As

Of Confused noise That Would Not Allow The Accents Of Calmer

Reason To Be Heard.  Determinations To Go In this Direction,  And

Headlong Plunges In that; Dignified safeguards,  Undignified

Collapses; Not A Single Rash Step By Deliberate Intention,  And All

Against Judgment.

It Was All That Melbury Had Expected and Feared.  It Was More,  For

He Had Overlooked the Publicity That Would Be Likely To Result,  As

It Now Had Done.  What Should He Do--Appeal To Mrs. Charmond

Himself,  Since Grace Would Not? He Bethought Himself Of

Winterborne,  And Resolved to Consult Him,  Feeling the Strong Need

Of Some Friend Of His Own Sex To Whom He Might Unburden His Mind.

He Had Entirely Lost Faith In his Own Judgment.  That Judgment On

Which He