Dinnerbeingover，Bathsheba，forwantofabettercompanion，hadaskedLiddytocomeandsitwithher。Themouldypilewasdrearyinwinter-timebeforethecandleswerelightedandtheshuttersclosed；theatmosphereoftheplaceseemedasoldasthewalls；everynookbehindthefurniturehadatemperatureofitsown，forthefirewasnotkindledinthispartofthehouseearlyintheday；andBathsheba’snewpiano，whichwasanoldoneinotherannals，lookedparticularlyslopingandoutoflevelonthewarpedfloorbeforenightthrewashadeoveritslessprominentanglesandhidtheunpleasantnessLiddy，likealittlebrook，thoughshallow，wasalwaysrippling；herpresencehadnotsomuchweightastotaskthought，andyetenoughtoexerciseit。
OnthetablelayanoldquartoBible，boundinleather。Liddylookingatitsaid，——
`Didyoueverfindout，miss，whoyouaregoingtomarrybymeansoftheBibleandkey？’
`Don’tbesofoolish，Liddy。Asifsuchthingscouldbe。’
`Well，there’sagooddealinit，allthesame。’
`Nonsense，child。’
`Anditmakesyourheartbeatfearful。Somebelieveinit；somedon’t；
Ido。’
`Verywell，let’stryit，’saidBathsheba，boundingfromherseatwiththattotaldisregardofconsistencywhichcanbeindulgedintowardsadependant，andenteringintothespiritofdivinationatonce。`Goandgetthefrontdoorkey。’
Liddyfetchedit。`Iwishitwasn’tSunday，’shesaid，onreturning。
`Perhaps’tiswrong。’
`What’srightweekdaysisrightSundays，’repliedhermistressinatonewhichwasaproofinitself。
Thebookwasopened-theleaves，drabwithage，beingquitewornawayatmuch-readversesbytheforefingersofunpractisedreadersinformerdays，wheretheyweremovedalongunderthelineasanaidtothevision。
ThespecialverseintheBookofRuthwassoughtoutbyBathsheba，andthesublimewordsmethereye。Theyslightlythrilledandabashedher。
ItwasWisdomintheabstractfacingFollyintheconcrete。Follyintheconcreteblushed，persistedinherintention，andplacedthekeyonthebook。Arustypatchimmediatelyupontheverse，causedbypreviouspressureofanironsubstancethereon，toldthatthiswasnotthefirsttimetheoldvolumehadbeenusedforthepurpose。
`Nowkeepsteady，andbesilent，’saidBathsheba。
Theversewasrepeated；thebookturnedround；Bathshebablushedguiltily。
`Whodidyoutry？’saidLiddycuriously。
`Ishallnottellyou。’
`DidyounoticeMrBoldwood’sdoingsinchurchthismorning，miss？’
Liddycontinued，adumbratingbytheremarkthetrackherthoughtshadtaken。
`No，indeed，’saidBathsheba，withsereneindifference。
`Hispewisexactlyoppositeyours，miss。’
`Iknowit。’
`Andyoudidnotseehisgoingson！’
`CertainlyIdidnot，Itellyou。’
Liddyassumedasmallerphysiognomy，andshutherlipsdecisively。
Thismorewasunexpected，andproportionatelydisconcerting。`Whatdidhedo？’Bathshebasaidperforce。
`Didn’tturnhisheadtolookatyouoncealltheservice。’
`Whyshouldhe？’againdemandedhermistress，wearinganettledlook。
`Ididn’taskhimto。’
`Oh，no。Buteverybodyelsewasnoticingyou；anditwasoddhedidn’t。
There，’tislikehim。Richandgentlemanly，whatdoeshecare？’
BathshebadroppedintoasilenceintendedtoexpressthatshehadopinionsonthemattertooabstruseforLiddy’scomprehension，ratherthanthatshehadnothingtosay。
`Dearme-IhadnearlyforgottenthevalentineIboughtyesterday，’
sheexclaimedatlength。
`Valentine！whofor，miss？’saidLiddy。`FarmerBoldwood？’
ItwasthesinglenameamongallpossiblewrongonesthatjustatthismomentseemedtoBathshebamorepertinentthantheright。
`Well，no。ItisonlyforlittleTeddyCoggan。Ihavepromisedhimsomething，andthiswillbeaprettysurpriseforhim。Liddy，youmayaswellbringmemydeskandI’lldirectitatonce。
Bathshebatookfromherdeskagorgeouslyilluminatedandembosseddesigninpost-octavo，whichhadbeenboughtonthepreviousmarket-dayatthechiefstationer’sinCasterbridge。Inthecentrewasasmallovalenclosure；
thiswasleftblank，thatthesendermightinserttenderwordsmoreappropriatetothespecialoccasionthananygeneralitiesbyaprintercouldpossiblybe。
`Here’saplaceforwriting，’saidBathsheba。`WhatshallIput？’
`Somethingofthissort，Ishouldthink，’returnedLiddypromptly：——`Theroseisred，Thevioletblue，Carnation’ssweet，Andsoareyou。’`Yes，thatshallbeit。Itjustsuitsitselftoachubby-facedchildlikehim，’saidBathsheba。Sheinsertedthewordsinasmallthoughlegiblehandwriting；enclosedthesheetinanenvelope，anddippedherpenforthedirection。
`WhatfunitwouldbetosendittothestupidoldBoldwood，andhowhewouldwonder！’saidtheirrepressibleLiddy，liftinghereyebrows，andindulginginanawfulmirthonthevergeoffearasshethoughtofthemoralandsocialmagnitudeofthemancontemplated。
Bathshebapausedtoregardtheideaatfilllength。Boldwood’shadbeguntobeatroublesomeimage-aspeciesofDanielinherkingdomwhopersistedinkneelingeastwardwhenreasonandcommonsensesaidthathemightjustaswellfollowsuitwiththerest，andaffordhertheofficialglanceofadmirationwhichcostnothingatall。Shewasfarfrombeingseriouslyconcernedabouthisnonconformity。Still，itwasfaintlydepressingthatthemostdignifiedandvaluablemanintheparishshouldwithholdhiseyes，andthatagirllikeLiddyshouldtalkaboutit。SoLiddy’sideawasatfirstratherharassingthanpiquant。
`No，Iwon’tdothat。Hewouldn’tseeanyhumourinit。’
`He’dworrytodeath，’saidthepersistentLiddy。
`Really，Idon’tcareparticularlytosendittoTeddy，’remarkedhermistress。`He’sratheranaughtychildsometimes。’
`Yes-thatheis。’
`Let’stoss，asmendo，’saidBathshebaidly。`Nowthen，head，Boldwood；
tail，Teddy。No，wewon’ttossmoneyonaSunday，thatwouldbetemptingthedevilindeed。’
`Tossthishymn-book；therecan’tbenosinfulnessinthat，miss。’
`Verywell。Open，Boldwood-shut，Teddy。No；it’smoreliketofallopen。Open，Teddy-shut，Boldwood。’
Thebookwentflutteringintheairandcamedownshut。
Bathsheba，asmallyawnuponhermouth，tookthepen，andwithoff-handserenitydirectedthemissivetoBoldwood。
`Nowlightacandle，Liddy。Whichsealshallweuse？Here’saunicornshead-there’snothinginthat。What’sthis？-twodoves-no。Itoughttobesomethingextraordinary，oughtitnot，Lidd？Here’sonewithamotto-Irememberitissomefunnyone，butIcan’treadit。`We’lltrythis，andifitdoesn’tdowe’llhaveanother。’
Alargeredsealwasdulyaffixed。Bathshebalookedcloselyatthehotwaxtodiscoverthewords。
`Capital！’sheexclaimed，throwingdowntheletterfrolicsomely。`’Twouldupsetthesolemnityofaparsonandclerktoo。’
Liddylookedatthewordsoftheseal，andread——`MARRYME。’Thesameeveningtheletterwassent，andwasdulysortedinCasterbridgepost-officethatnight，tobereturnedtoWeatherburyagaininthemorning。
SoveryidlyandunreflectinglywasthisdeeddoneofloveasaspectacleBathshebahadafairknowledge；butoflovesubjectivelysheknewnothing。
CHAPTERFOURTEENEffectoftheLetter-SunriseAtduskontheeveningofStValentine’sDayBoldwoodsatdowntosupperasusual，byabeamingfireofagedlogs。Uponthemantelshelfbeforehimwasatime-piece，surmountedbyaspreadeagle，andupontheeagle’swingswastheletterBathshebahadsent。Herethebachelorsgazewascontinuallylisteningitself，tillthelargeredsealbecameasablotofbloodontheretinaofhiseye；andasheateanddrankhestillreadinfancythewordsthereon，althoughtheyweretooremoteforhissight——`MARRYME。’Thepertinjunctionwaslikethosecrystalsubstances，which，colourlessthemselves，assumethetoneofobjectsaboutthem。Here，inthequietofBoldwood’sparlour，whereeverythingthatwasnotgravewasextraneous，andwheretheatmospherewasthatofaPuritanSundaylastingalltheweek，theletteranditsdictumchangedtheirtenorfromthethoughtlessnessoftheirorigintoadeepsolemnity，imbibedfromtheiraccessoriesnow。
Sincethereceiptofthemissiveinthemorning，Boldwoodhadfeltthesymmetryofhisexistencetobeslowlygettingdistortedinthedirectionofanidealpassion。ThedisturbancewasasthefirstfloatingweedtoColumbus*-thecontemptiblylittlesuggestingpossibilitiesoftheinfinitelygreat。
Thelettermusthavehadanoriginandamotive。Thatthelatterwasofthesmallestmagnitudecompatiblewithitsexistenceatall，Boldwood，ofcourse，didnotknow。Andsuchanexplanationdidnotstrikehimasapossibilityeven。Itisforeigntoamystifiedconditionofmindtorealizeofthemystifierthattheprocessesofapprovingacoursesuggestedbycircumstance，andofstrikingoutacoursefrominnerimpulse，wouldlookthesameintheresult。Thevastdifferencebetweenstartingatrainofevents，anddirectingintoaparticulargrooveaseriesalreadystarted，israrelyapparenttothepersonconfoundedbytheissue。
WhenBoldwoodwenttobedheplacedthevalentineinthecornerofthelooking-glass。Hewasconsciousofitspresence，evenwhenhisbackwasturneduponit。ItwasthefirsttimeinBoldwood’slifethatsuchaneventhadoccurred。Thesamefascinationthatcausedhimtothinkitanactwhichhadadeliberatemotivepreventedhimfromregardingitasanimpertinence。
Helookedagainatthedirection。Themysteriousinfluencesofnightinvestedthewritingwiththepresenceoftheunknownwriter。Somebody’s-somewoman’s-handhadtravelledsoftlyoverthepaperbearinghisname；
herunrevealedeyeshadwatchedeverycurveassheformedit；herbrainhadseenhiminimaginationthewhile。`Whyshouldshehaveimaginedhim？
Hermouth-werethelipsredorpale，plumporcreased？-hadcurveditselftoacertainexpressionasthepenwenton-thecornershadmovedwithalltheirnaturaltremulousness：whathadbeentheexpression？
Thevisionofthewomanwriting，asasupplementtothewordswritten，hadnoindividuality。Shewasamistyshape，andwellshemightbe，consideringthatheroriginalwasatthatmomentsoundasleepandobliviousofallloveandletter-writingunderthesky。WheneverBoldwooddozedshetookaform，andcomparativelyceasedtobeavision：whenheawoketherewastheletterjustifyingthedream。
Themoonshoneto-night，anditslightwasnotofacustomarykind。
Hiswindowadmittedonlyareflectionofitsrays，andthepalesheenhadthatreverseddirectionwhichsnowgives，comingupwardandlightinguphisceilinginanunnaturalway，castingshadowsinstrangeplaces，andputtinglightswhereshadowshadusedtobe。
Thesubstanceoftheepistlehadoccupiedhimbutlittleincomparisonwiththefactofitsarrival。Hesuddenlywonderedifanythingmoremightbefoundintheenvelopethanwhathehadwithdrawn。Hejumpedoutofbedintheweirdlight，tooktheletter，pulledouttheflimsysheet，shooktheenvelope-searchedit。Nothingmorewasthere。Boldwoodlooked，ashehadahundredtimestheprecedingday，attheinsistentredseal：`Marryme，’hesaidaloud。
Thesolemnandreservedyeomanagainclosedtheletter，andstuckitintheframeoftheglass。Indoingsohecaughtsightofhisreflectedfeatures，waninexpression，andinsubstantialinform。Hesawhowcloselycompressedwashismouth，andthathiseyeswerewide-spreadandvacant。
Feelinguneasyanddissatisfiedwithhimselfforthisnervousexcitabilityhereturnedtobed。
Thenthedawndrewon。Thefillpoweroftheclearheavenwasnotequaltothatofacloudyskyatnoon，whenBoldwoodaroseanddressedhimself。
Hedescendedthestairsandwentouttowardsthegateofafieldtotheeast，leaningoverwhichhepausedandlookedaround。
Itwasoneoftheusualslowsunrisesofthistimeoftheyear，andthesky，purevioletinthezenith，wasleadentothenorthward，andmurkytotheeast，where，overthesnowydownorewe-lease*onWeatherburyUpperFarm，andapparentlyrestingupontheridge，theonlyhalfofthesunyetvisibleburntrayless，likearedandflamelessfireshiningoverawhitehearthstone。Thewholeeffectresembledasunsetaschildhoodresemblesage。
Inotherdirectionsthefieldsandskyweresomuchofonecolourbythesnowthatitwasdifficultinahastyglancetotellwhereaboutsthehorizonoccurred；andingeneraltherewashere，too，thatbefore-mentionedpreternaturalinversionoflightandshadewhichattendstheprospectwhenthegarishbrightnesscommonlyintheskyisfoundontheearth，andtheshadesofearthareinthesky。Overthewesthungthewastingmoon，nowdullandgreenish-yellow，liketarnishedbrass。
Boldwoodwaslistlesslynotinghowthefrosthadhardenedandglazedthesurfaceofthesnow，tillitshoneintheredeasternlightwiththepolishofmarble；how，insomeportionsoftheslope，witheredgrass-bents，encasedinicicles，bristledthroughthesmoothwancoverletinthetwistedandcurvedshapesofoldVenetianglass；andhowthefoot-printsofafewbirds，whichhadhoppedoverthesnowwhilstitlayinthestateofasoftfleece，werenowfrozentoashortpermanency。Ahalf-mufflednoiseoflightwheelsinterruptedhim。Boldwoodturnedbackintotheroad。Itwasthemail-cart-acrazytwo-heeledvehicle，hardlyheavyenoughtoresistapuffofwind。Thedriverheldoutaletter。Boldwoodseizeditandopenedit，expectinganotheranonymousone-sogreatlyarepeople’sideasofprobabilityameresensethatprecedentwillrepeatitself。
`Idon’tthinkitisforyou，sir，’saidtheman，whenhesawBoldwood’saction。`Thoughthereisnoname，Ithinkitisforyourshepherd。’
Boldwoodlookedthenattheaddress——TotheNewShepherd，WeatherburyFarm，NearCasterbridge。`Oh-whatamistake！-itisnotmine。Norisitformyshepherd。ItisforMissEverdene’s。Youhadbettertakeitontohim-GabrielOak-andsayIopeneditinmistake。’
Atthismomentontheridge，upagainsttheblazingsky，afigurewasvisible，liketheblacksnuffinthemidstofacandle-flame。Thenitmovedandbegantobustleaboutvigorouslyfromplacetoplace，carryingsquareskeletonmasses，whichwereriddledbythesamerays。Asmallfigureonallfoursfollowedbehind。ThetallformwasthatofGabrielOak；thesmallonethatofGeorge；thearticlesincourseoftransitwerehurdles。
`Wait，’saidBoldwood。`That’sthemanonthehill。I’lltakethelettertohimmyself。’
ToBoldwooditwasnownolongermerelyalettertoanotherman。Itwasanopportunity。Exhibitingafacepregnantwithintention，heenteredthesnowyfield。
Gabriel，atthatminute，descendedthehilltowardstheright。Theglowstretcheddowninthisdirectionnow，andtouchedthedistantroofofWarren’sMalthouse-whithertheshepherdwasapparentlybent。Boldwoodfollowedatadistance。
CHAPTERFIFTEENAMorningMeeting-TheLetteragainThescarletandorangelightoutsidethemalthousedidnotpenetratetoitsinterior，whichwas，asusual，lightedbyarivalglowofsimilarhue，radiatingfromthehearth。
Themaltster，afterhavinglaindowninhisclothesforafewhours，wasnowsittingbesideathree-leggedtable，breakfastingoffbreadandbacon。Thiswaseatenontheplatelesssystem，whichisperformedbyplacingasliceofbreaduponthetable，themeatflatuponthebread，amustardplasteruponthemeat，andapinchofsaltuponthewhole，thencuttingthemverticallydownwardswithalargepocket-knifetillwoodisreached，whentheseveredlumpisimpaledontheknife，elevated，andsenttheproperwayoffood。
Themaltster’slackofteethappearednottosensiblydiminishhispowersasamill。Hehadbeenwithoutthemforsomanyyearsthattoothlessnesswasfeltlesstobeadefectthanhardgumsanacquisition。Indeed，heseemedtoapproachthegraveasahyperboliccurveapproachesastraightline-lessdirectlyashegotnearer，tillitwasdoubtfulifhewouldeverreachitatall。
Intheashpitwasaheapofpotatoesroasting，andaboilingpipkinofcharredbread，called`coffee’，forthebenefitofwhomsoevershouldcall，for`Warren’swasasortofclubhouse，usedasanalternativetotheinn。
`Isay，saysI，wegetafineday，andthendowncomesasnapperatnight，’wasaremarknowsuddenlyheardspreadingintothemalthousefromthedoor，whichhadbeenopenedthepreviousmoment。TheformofHeneryFrayadvancedtothefire，stampingthesnowfromhisbootswhenabouthalfwaythere。Thespeechandentryhadnotseemedtobeatallanabruptbeginningtothemaltster，introductorymatterbeingoftenomittedinthisneighbourhood，bothfromwordanddeed，andthemaltsterhavingthesamelatitudeallowedhim，didnothurrytoreply。Hepickedupafragmentofcheesebypeckinguponitwithhisknife，asabutcherpicksupskewers。
Heneryappearedinadrabkerseymeregreatcoat，buttonedoverhissmock-frock，thewhiteskirtsofthelatterbeingvisibletothedistanceofaboutafootbelowthecoat-tails，which，whenyougotusedtothestyleofdress，lookednaturalenough，andevenornamental-itcertainlywascomfortable。
MatthewMoon，JosephPoorgrass，andothercartersandwaggonersfollowedathisheels，withgreatlanternsdanglingfromtheirhands，whichshowedthattheyhadjustcomefromthecart-horsestables，wheretheyhadbeenbusilyengagedsincefouro’clockthatmorning。
`Andhowisshegettingonwithoutabaily？’themaltsterinquired。
Heneryshookhishead，andsmiledoneofthebittersmiles，draggingallthefleshofhisforeheadintoacorrugatedheapinthecentre。
`She’llrueit-surely，surely！’hesaid。`BenjyPennywayswerenotatruemanoranhonestbaily-asbigabetrayerasJoeyIscariothimself。
Buttothinkshecancarryonalone！’Heallowedhisheadtoswinglaterallythreeorfourtimesinsilence。`Neverinallmycreepingup-never！’
Thiswasrecognizedbyallastheconclusionofsomegloomyspeechwhichhadbeenexpressedinthoughtaloneduringtheshakeofthehead；Henerymeanwhileretainedseveralmarksofdespairuponhisface，toimplythattheywouldberequiredforuseagaindirectlyheshouldgoonspeaking。
`Allwillberuined，andourselvestoo，orthere’snomeatingentlemen’shouses！’saidMarkClark。
`Aheadstrongmaid，that’swhatsheis-andwon’tlistentonoadviceatall。Prideandvanityhaveruinedmanyacobbler’sdog。Dear，dear，whenIthinko’it，Isorrowslikeamanintravel！’
`True，Henery，youdo，I’veheardye，’saidJosephPoorgrass，inavoiceofthoroughattestation，andwithawire-drawnsmileofmisery。
`’Twoulddoamartelmannoharmtohavewhat’sunderherbonnet，’saidBillySmallbury，whohadjustentered，bearinghisonetoothbeforehim。
`Shecanspaikreallanguage，andmusthavesomesensesomewhere。Doyefollerme？’
`Ido；butnobaily-Ideservedthatplace，’wailedHenery，signifyingwastedgeniusbygazingblanklyatvisionsofahighdestinyapparentlyvisibletohimonBillySmallbury’ssmock-frock。`There，’twastobe，I
suppose。Yourlotisyourlot，andScriptureisnothing；forifyoudogoodyoudon’tgetrewardedaccordingtoyourworks，butbecheatedinsomemeanwayoutofyourrecompense。
`No，no；Idon’tagreewith’eethere，’saidMarkClark。`God’saperfectgentlemaninthatrespect。’
`Goodworksgoodpay，sotospeakit，’attestedJosephPoorgrass。
Ashortpauseensued，andasasortofentr’acteHeneryturnedandblewoutthelanterns，whichtheincreaseofdaylightrenderednolongernecessaryeveninthemalthouse，withitsonepaneofglass。
`Iwonderwhatafarmer-womancanwantwithaharpsichord，dulcimer，pianner，orwhatever’tistheyd’callit？’saidthemaltster。`Liddysaithshe’veanewone。’
`Gotapianner？’
`Ay。Seemsherolduncle’sthingswerenotgoodenoughforher。She’veboughtallbuteverythingnew。There’sheavychairsforthestout，weakandwiryonesfortheslender；greatwatches，gettingontothesizeofclocks，tostanduponthechimbley-piece。’
`Pictures，forthemostpartwonderfulframes。’
`Andlonghorse-hairsettlesforthedrunk，withhorse-hairpillowsateachend，’saidMrClark。`Likewiselooking-glassesforthepretty，andlyingbooksforthewicked。’
Afirmloudtreadwasnowheardstampingoutside；thedoorwasopenedaboutsixinches，andsomebodyontheothersideexclaimed——
`Neighbours，haveyegotroomforafewnew-bornlambs？’
`Ay，sure，shepherd，’saidtheconclave。
Thedoorwasflungbacktillitkickedthewallandtrembledfromtoptobottomwiththeblow。MrOakappearedintheentrywithasteamingface，haybandswoundabouthisanklestokeepoutthesnow，aleatherstraproundhiswaistoutsidethesmock-frock，andlookingaltogetheranepitomeoftheworld’shealthandvigour。Fourlambshunginvariousembarrassingattitudesoverhisshoulders，andthedogGeorge，whomGabrielhadcontrivedtofetchfromNorcombe，stalkedsolemnlybehind。
`Well，ShepherdOak，andhow’slambingthisyear，ifImidsayit？’
inquiredJosephPoorgrass。
`Terribletrying，’midOak。`I’vebeenwetthroughtwicea-day，eitherinsnoworrain，thislastfortnight。CainyandIhaven’ttinedoureyestonight。’
`Agoodfewtwins，too，Ihear？’
`Toomanybyhalf。Yes；’tisaveryqueerlambingthisyear。`Weshan’thavedonebyLadyDay。’
`Andlastyear’tweralloverbySexajessamineSunday，’Josephremarked。
`Bringontherest，Cain，’saidGabriel，`andthenrunbacktotheewes。
I’llfollowyousoon。’
CainyBall-acheery-facedyounglad，withasmallcircularorificebywayofmouth，advancedanddepositedtwoothers，andretiredashewasbidden。Oakloweredthelambsfromtheirunnaturalelevation，wrappedtheminhay，andplacedthemroundthefire。
`We’venolambing-huthere，asIusedtohaveatNorcombe，’saidGabriel，`and’tissuchaplaguetobringtheweaklyonestoahouse。If’twasn’tforyourplacehere，malter，Idon’tknowwhatIshoulddo，thiskeenweather。
Andhowisitwithyouto-day，malter？’
`Oh，neithersicknorsorry，shepherd；butnoyounger。`Ay-Iunderstand。’
`Sitdown，ShepherdOak，’continuedtheancientmanofmalt。`AndhowwastheoldplaceatNorcombe，whenyewentforyourdog？Ishouldliketoseetheoldfamiliarspot；butfaith，Ishouldn’tknowasoultherenow。’
`Isupposeyouwouldn’t。’Tisalteredverymuch。’
`IsittruethatDickyHill’swoodencider-houseispulleddown？’
`Oyes-yearsago’andDicky’scottagejustaboveit。’
“Well，tobesure！’
`Yes；andTompkins’soldapple-treeisrootedthatusedtobeartwohogsheadsofcider，andnohelpfromothertrees。’
`Rooted？-youdon’tsayit！Ah！stirringtimeswelivein-stirringtimes。’
`Andyoucanmindtheoldwellthatusedtobeinthemiddleoftheplace？That’sturnedintoasolidironpumpwithalargestonetrough，andallcomplete。’
`Dear，dear-howthefaceofnationsalter，andwhatwelivetoseenowadays！Yes-and’tisthesamehere。They’vebeentalkingbutnowofthemis’ess’sstrangedoings。’
`Whathaveyoubeensayingabouther？’inquiredOak，sharplyturningtotherest，andgettingverywarm。
`Thesemiddle-agedmenhavebeenpullingheroverthecoalsforprideandvanity，’saidMarkClark；`butIsay，letherhaveropeenough。Blessherprettyface-shouldn’tIliketodoso-uponhercherrylips！’ThegallantMarkClarkheremadeapeculiarandwell-knownsoundwithhisown。
`Mark，’saidGabrielsternly，`nowyoumindthis：noneofthatdalliance-talk-thatsmack-and-coddlestyleofyours-aboutMissEverdene。Idon’tallowit。Doyouhear？’
`Withallmyheart，asI’vegotnochance，’repliedMrClarkcordially。
`Isupposeyou’vebeenspeakingagainsther？’saidOak，turningtoJosephPoorgrasswithaverygrimlook。
`No，no-notawordI——’tisarealjoyfulthingthatshe’snoworse，that’swhatIsay，’saidJoseph，tremblingandblushingwithterror。`Matthewjustsaid-’
`MatthewMoon，whathaveyoubeensaying？’askedOak。
`I？WhyyeknowIwouldn’tharmaworm-no，notoneundergroundworm？’
saidMatthewMoon，lookingveryuneasy。
`Well，somebodyhas-andlookhere，neighbours。’Gabriel，thoughoneofthequietestandmostgentlemenonearth，rosetotheoccasion，withmartialpromptnessandvigour。`That’smyfist。’Hereheplacedhisfist，rathersmallerinsizethanacommonloaf，inthemathematicalcentreofthemaltster’slittletable，andwithitgaveabumportwothereon，asiftoensurethattheireyesallthoroughlytookintheideaoffistinessbeforehewentfurther。`Now-thefirstmanintheparishthatIhearprophesyingbadofourmistress，why’herethefistwasraisedandletfall，asThormighthavedonewithhishammerinassayingit-`he’llsmellandtastethat-orI’maDutchman。’
AllearnestlyexpressedbytheirfeaturesthattheirmindsdidnotwandertoHollandforamomentonaccountofthisstatement，butweredeploringthedifferencewhichgaverisetothefigure；andMarkClarkcried`Hear，hear；justwhatIshouldha’said。’ThedogGeorgelookedupatthesametimeaftertheshepherd’smenace，and，thoughheunderstoodEnglishbutimperfectly，begantogrowl。
`Now，don’tyetakeonso’shepherd，andsitdown！’saidHenery，withadeprecatingpeacefulnessequaltoanythingofthekindinChristianity。
`Wehearthatyebeaextraordinarygoodandcleverman，shepherd，’
saidJosephPoorgrasswithconsiderableanxietyfrombehindthemaltster’sbedstead，whitherhehadretiredforsafety。`’Tisagreatthingtobeclever，I’msure，’headded，makingmovementsassociatedwithstatesofmindratherthanbody；`wewishwewere，don’twe，neighbours？’
`Ay，thatwedo，sure，’saidMatthewMoon，withasmallanxiouslaughtowardsOak，toshowhowveryfriendlydisposedhewaslikewise。
`Who’sbeentellingyouI’mclever？’saidOak。
`’Tisblowedaboutfrompillartopostquitecommon，saidMatthew。`Wehearthatyecantellthetimeaswellbythestarsaswecanbythesunandmoon，shepherd。’
`Yes，Icandoalittlethatway，’saidGabriel，asamanofmediumsentimentsonthesubject。
`Andthatyecanmakesundials，andprentfolks’namesupontheirwaggonsalmostlikecopper-plate，withbeautifulflourishes，andgreatlongtails。
Aexcellentfinethingforyetobesuchacleverman，shepherd。JosephPoorgrassusedtoprenttoFarmerJamesEverdene’swaggonsbeforeyoucame，and`acouldnevermindwhichwaytoturntheJ’sandE’s-couldye，Joseph？’
Josephshookhisheadtoexpresshowabsolutewasthefactthathecouldn’t。
`Andsoyouusedtodo’emthewrongway，likethis，didn’tye，Joseph？’
Matthewmarkedonthedustyfloorwithhiswhip-handleJAMES`AndhowFarmerJameswouldcuss，andcalltheeafool，wouldn’the，Joseph，when’aseedhisnamelookingsoinside-out-like？’continuedMatthewMoon，withfeeling。
`Ay——’awould，’saidJosephmeekly。`But，yousee，Iwasn’tsomuchtoblue，forthemJ’sandE’sbesuchtryingsonso’witchesforthememorytomindwhethertheyfacebackwardorforward；andIalwayshadsuchaforgetfulmemory，too。’
`’Tisabadafflictionforye，beingsuchamanofcalamitiesinotherways。’
`Well，’tis；butahappyProvidenceorderedthatitshouldbenoworse，andIfeelmythanks。Astoshepherd，there，I’msuremis’essoughttohavemadeyeherbaily-suchafittingmanfor’tasyoube。’
`Idon’tmindowningthatIexpectedit，’saidOakfrankly。`Indeed，Ihopedfortheplace。Atthesametime，MissEverdenehasarighttobeherownbailyifshechoose-andtokeepmedowntobeacommonshepherdonly。’Oakdrewaslowbreath，lookedsadlyintothebrightashpit，andseemedlostinthoughtsnotofthemosthopefulhue。
Thegenialwarmthofthefirenowbegantostimulatethenearlylifelesslambstobleatandmovetheirlimbsbrisklyuponthehay，andtorecognizeforthefirsttimethefactthattheywereborn。Theirnoiseincreasedtoachorusofbaas，uponwhichOakpulledthemilk-canfrombeforethefire，andtakingasmalltea-potfromthepocketofhissmock-frock，filleditwithmilk，andtaughtthoseofthehelplesscreatureswhichwerenottoberestoredtotheirdamshowtodrinkfromthespout-atricktheyacquiredwithastonishingaptitude。
`Andshedon’tevenletyehavetheskinsofthedeadlambs，Ihear？’
resumedJosephPoorgrass，hiseyeslingeringontheoperationsofOakwiththenecessarymelancholy。
`Idon’thavethem，’saidGabriel。
`Yebeverybadlyused，shepherd，’hazardedJosephagain，inthehopeofgettingOakasanallyinlamentationafterall。`Ithinkshe’stookagainstye-thatIdo。’
`Ono-notatall，’repliedGabrielhastily，andasighescapedhim，whichthedeprivationoflambskinscouldhardlyhavecaused。
Beforeanyfurtherremarkhadbeenaddedashadedarkenedthedoor，andBoldwoodenteredthemalthouse，bestowinguponeachanodofaqualitybetweenfriendlinessandcondescension。
`Ah！Oak，Ithoughtyouwerehere，’hesaid。`Imetthemail-carttenminutesago，andaletterwasputintomyhand，whichIopenedwithoutreadingtheaddress。Ibelieveitisyours。Youmustexcusetheaccident，please。’
`Oyes-notabitofdifference，MrBoldwood-notabit，’saidGabrielreadily。Hehadnotacorrespondentonearth，norwasthereapossiblelettercomingtohimwhosecontentsthewholeparishwouldnothavebeenwelcometoperuse。
Oaksteppedaside，andreadthefollowinginanunknownhand：——`DearFriend——
Idonotknowyourname，butIthinkthesefewlineswillreachyou，whichIwritetothankyouforyourkindnesstomethenightIleftWeatherburyinarecklessway。IalsoreturnthemoneyIoweyou，whichyouwillexcusemynotkeepingasagift。Allhasendedwell，andIamhappytosayIamgoingtobemarriedtotheyoungmanwhohascourtedmeforsometime-
SergeantTroy，ofthe11thDragoonGuards，nowquarteredinthistown。
Hewould，Iknow，objecttomyhavingreceivedanythingexceptasaloan，beingamanofgreatrespectabilityandhighhonour-indeed，anoblemanbyblood。
`Ishouldbemuchobligedtoyouifyouwouldkeepthecontentsofthisletterasecretforthepresent，dearfriend。WemeantosurpriseWeatherburybycomingtheresoonashusbandandwife，thoughIblushtostateittoonenearlyastranger。ThesergeantgrewupinWeatherbury。Thankingyouagainforyourkindness，Iam，yoursincerewell-wisher，FANNYROBIN’`Haveyoureadit，MrBoldwood？’saidGabriel；`ifnot，youhadbetterdoso。IknowyouareinterestedinFannyRobin。’
Boldwoodreadtheletterandlookedgrieved。
`Fanny-poorFanny！theendsheissoconfidentofhasnotyetcome，sheshouldremember-andmaynevercome。Iseeshegivesnoaddress。’
`WhatsortofamanisthisSergeantTroy？’saidGabriel。
`H’m-I’mafraidnotonetobuildmuchhopeuponinsuchacaseasthis，’thefarmermurmured，`thoughhe’sacleverfellow，anduptoeverything。
Aslightromanceattachestohim，too。HismotherwasaFrenchgoverness，anditseemsthatasecretattachmentexistedbetweenherandthelateLordSevern。Shewasmarriedtoapoormedicalman，andsoonafteraninfantwasborn；andwhilemoneywasforthcomingallwentonwell。Unfortunatelyforherboy，hisbestfriendsdied；andhegotthenasituationassecondclerkatalawyer’sinCasterbridge。Hestayedthereforsometime，andmighthaveworkedhimselfintoadignifiedpositionofsomesorthadhenotindulgedinthewildfreakofenlisting。IhavemuchdoubtifeverlittleFannywillsurpriseusinthewayshementions-verymuchdoubt。
Asillygirl-sillygirl！’
Thedoorwashurriedlyburstopenagain，andincamerunningCainyBalloutofbreath，hismouthredandopen，likethebellofapennytrumpet，fromwhichhecoughedwithnoisyvigourandgreatdistensionofface。
`Now，CainBall，’saidOaksternly，`whywillyourunsofastandloseyourbreathso？I’malwaystellingyouofit。’
`O-I-apuffofmeebreath-went-thewrongway，please，MisterOak，andmademecough-hok-hok！’
`Well-whathaveyoucomefor？’
`I’veruntotellye，’saidthejuniorshepherd，supportinghisexhaustedyouthfulframeagainstthedoorpost，`thatyoumustcomedirectly。Twomoreeweshavetwinned-that’swhat’sthematter，ShepherdOak。’
`Oh，that’sit，’saidOak，jumpingupanddismissingforthepresenthisthoughtsonpoorFanny。`Youareagoodboytorunandtellme，Cain，andyoushallsmellalargeplumpuddingsomedayasatreat。But，beforewego，Cainy，bringthetarpot，andwe’llmarkthislotandhavedonewith’em。’
Oaktookfromhisillimitablepocketsamarkingiron，dippeditintothepot，andimprintedonthebuttocksoftheinfantsheeptheinitialsofherhedelightedtomuseon-`B。E。’，whichsignifiedtoalltheregionroundthathenceforththelambsbelongedtoFarmerBathshebaEverdene，andtonooneelse。
`Now，Cainy，shoulderyourtwo’andoffGoodmorning，MrBoldwood。’
Theshepherdliftedthesixteenlargelegsandfoursmallbodieshehadhimselfbrought，andvanishedwiththeminthedirectionofthelambingfieldhardby-theirframesbeingnowinasleekandhopefulstate，pleasantlycontrastingwiththeirdeath’s-doorplightofhalfanhourbefore。
Boldwoodfollowedhimalittlewayupthefield，hesitated，andturnedback。Hefollowedhimagainwithalastresolve，annihilatingreturn。Onapproachingthenookinwhichthefoldwasconstructed，thefarmerdrewouthispocket-book，unfastenedit，andallowedittolieopenonhishand。
Aletterwasrevealed-Bathsheba’s。
`Iwasgoingtoaskyou，Oak，’hesaid，withunrealcarelessness，`ifyouknowwhosewritingthisis？’
Oakglancedintothebook，andrepliedinstantly，withaflushedface，`MissEverdene’s。’
Oakhadcolouredsimplyattheconsciousnessofsoundinghername。Henowfeltastrangelydistressingqualmfromanewthought。Thelettercouldofcoursebenootherthananonymous，ortheinquirywouldnothavebeennecessary。
Boldwoodmistookhisconfusion：sensitivepersonsarealwaysreadywiththeir`IsitI？’inpreferencetoobjectivereasoning。
`Thequestionwasperfectlyfair，’hereturned-andtherewassomethingincongruousintheseriousearnestnesswithwhichheappliedhimselftoanargumentonavalentine。`Youknowitisalwaysexpectedthatprivyinquirieswillbemade：that’swherethe-funlies。’Iftheword`fun’
hadbeen`torture’，itcouldnothavebeenutteredwithamoreconstrainedandrestlesscountenancethanwasBoldwood’sthen。
SoonpartingfromGabriel，thelonelyandreservedmanreturnedtohishousetobreakfast-feelingtwingesofshameandregretathavingsofarexposedhismoodbythosefeveredquestionstoastranger。Heagainplacedtheletteronthemantelpiece，andsatdowntothinkofthecircumstancesattendingitbythelightofGabriel’sinformation。
CHAPTERSIXTEENAllSaints’andAllSouls’Onaweek-daymorningasmallcongregation，consistingmainlyofwomenandgirls，rosefromitskneesinthemouldynaveofachurchcalledAllSaints’，inthedistantbarrack-townbefore-mentioned，attheendofaservicewithoutasermon。Theywereabouttodisperse，whenasmartfootstep，enteringtheporchandcomingupthecentralpassage，arrestedtheirattention。
Thestepechoedwitharingunusualinachurch：itwastheclinkofspurs。
Everybodylooked。Ayoungcavalrysoldierinareduniform，withthethreechevronsofasergeantuponhissleeve，strodeuptheaisle，withanembarrassmentwhichwasonlythemoremarkedbytheintensevigourofhisstep，andbythedeterminationuponhisfacetoshownone。Aslightflushhadmountedhischeekbythetimehehadrunthegauntletbetweenthesewomen：but，passingonthroughthechancelarch，heneverpausedtillhecameclosetothealtarrailing。Hereforamomenthestoodalone。
Theofficiatingcurate，whohadnotyetdoffedhissurplice，perceivedthenewcomer，andfollowedhimtothecommunion-space。Hewhisperedtothesoldier，andthenbeckonedtotheclerk，whoinhisturnwhisperedtoanelderlywoman，apparentlyhiswife，andtheyalsowentupthechancelsteps。
`’Tisawedding！’murmuredsomeofthewomen，brightening。`let’swait！’
Themajorityagainsatdown。
Therewasacreakingofmachinerybehind，andsomeoftheyoungonesturnedtheirheads。Fromtheinteriorfaceofthewestwallofthetowerprojectedalittlecanopywithaquarter-jackandsmallbellbeneathit，theautomatonbeingdrivenbythesameclockmachinerythatstruckthelargebellinthetower。Betweenthetowerandthechurchwasaclosescreen，thedoorofwhichwaskeptshutduringservices，hidingthisgrotesqueclockworkfromsight。Atpresent，however，thedoorwasopen，andtheegressofthejack，theblowsonthebell，andthemannikin’sretreatintothenookagain，werevisibletomany，andaudiblethroughoutthechurch。
Thejackhadstruckhalf-pasteleven。
`Where’sthewoman？’whisperedsomeofthespectators。
Theyoungsergeantstoodstillwiththeabnormalrigidityoftheoldpillarsaround。Hefacedthesouth-east，andwasassilentashewasstill。
Thesilencegrewtobeanoticeablethingastheminuteswenton，andnobodyelseappeared，andnotasoulmoved。Thetattleofthequarter-jackagainfromitsniche，itsblowsforthree-quarters，itsfussyretreat，werealmostpainfullyabrupt，andcausedmanyofthecongregationtostartpalpably。
`Iwonderwherethewomanis！’avoicewhisperedagain。
Therebegannowthatslightshiftingoffeet，thatartificialcoughingamongseveral，whichbetraysanervoussuspense。Atlengththerewasatitter。Butthesoldiernevermoved。Therehestood，hisfacetothesouth-east，uprightasacolumn，hiscapinhishand。
Theclockedtickedon。Thewomenthrewofftheirnervousness，andtittersandgigglingbecamemorefrequent。Thencameadeadsilence。Everyonewaswaitingfortheend。Somepersonsmayhavenoticedhowextraordinarilythestrikingofquartersseemstoquickentheflightoftime。Itwashardlycrediblethatthejackhadnotgotwrongwiththeminuteswhentherattlebeganagain，thepuppetemerged，andthefourquarterswerestruckfitfullyasbefore。Onecouldalmostbepositivethattherewasamaliciousleeruponthehideouscreature’sface，andamischievousdelightinitstwitchings。
Thenfollowedthedullandremoteresonanceofthetwelveheavystrokesinthetowerabove。Thewomenwereimpressed，andtherewasnogigglethistime。
Theclergymanglidedintothevestry，andtheclerkvanished。Thesergeanthadnotyetturned；everywomaninthechurchwaswaitingtoseehisface，andheappearedtoknowit。Atlasthedidturn，andstalkedresolutelydownthenave，bravingthemall，withacompressedlip。Twobowedandtoothlessoldalmsmenthenlookedateachotherandchuckled，innocentlyenough；
butthesoundhadastrangeweirdeffectinthatplace。
Oppositetothechurchwasapavedsquare，aroundwhichseveraloverhangingwoodbuildingsofoldtimecastapicturesqueshade。Theyoungmanonleavingthedoorwenttocrossthesquare，when，inthemiddle，hemetalittlewoman。Theexpressionofherface，whichhadbeenoneofintenseanxiety，sankatthesightofhisnearlytoterror。
`Well？’hesaid，inasuppressedpassion，fixedlylookingather。
`OFrank-Imadeamistake！-IthoughtthatchurchwiththespirewasAllSaints’，andIwasatthedoorathalf-pasteleventoaminuteasyousaid。Iwaitedtillaquartertotwelve，andfoundthenthatIwasinAllSouls’。ButIwasn’tmuchfrightened，forIthoughtitcouldbeto-morrowaswell。’
`Youfool，forsofoolingme！Butsaynomore。’
`Shallitbeto-morrow，Frank？’sheaskedblankly。
`To-morrow！’andhegaveventtoahoarselaugh。`Idon’tgothroughthatexperienceagainforsometime；Iwarrantyou！’
`Butafterall，’sheexpostulatedinatremblingvoice，`themistakewasnotsuchaterriblething！Now，dearFrank，whenshallitbe？’
`Ah，when？Godknows！’hesaid，withalightirony，andturningfromherwalkedrapidlyaway。
CHAPTERSEVENTEENIntheMarket-placeOnSaturdayBoldwoodwasinCasterbridgemarket-houseasusual，whenthedisturberofhisdamsentered，andbecamevisibletohim。Adamhadawakenedfromhisdeepsleep，andbehold！therewasEve。Thefarmertookcourage，andforthefirsttimereallylookedather。
Materialcausesandemotionaleffectsarenottobearrangedinregularequation。Theresultfromcapitalemployedintheproductionofanymovementofamentalnatureissometimesastremendousasthecauseitselfisabsurdlyminute。Whenwomenareinafreakishmoodtheirusualintuition，eitherfromcarelessnessorinherentdefect，seeminglyfailstoteachthemthis，andhenceitwasthatBathshebawasfatedtobeastonishedto-day。
Boldwoodlookedather-notslily，critically，orunderstandingly，butblanklyatgaze，inthewayareaperlooksupatapassingtrain-
assomethingforeigntohiselement，andbutdimlyunderstood。ToBoldwoodwomenhadbeenremotephenomenaratherthannecessarycomplements-cometsofsuchuncertainaspect，movement，andpermanence，thatwhethertheirorbitswereasgeometrical，unchangeable，andassubjecttolawsashisown，orasabsolutelyerraticastheysuperficiallyappeared，hehadnotdeemedithisdutytoconsider。
Hesawherblackhair，hercorrectfacialcurvesandprofile，andtheroundnessofherchinandthroat。Hesawthenthesideofhereyelids，eyes，andlashes，andtheshapeofherear。Nexthenoticedherfigure，herskirt，andtheverysolesofhershoes。
Boldwoodthoughtherbeautiful，butwonderedwhetherhewasrightinhisthought，foritseemedimpossiblethatthisromanceintheflesh，ifsosweetasheimagined，couldhavebeengoingonlongwithoutcreatingacommotionofdelightamongmen，andprovokingmoreinquirythanBathshebahaddone，eventhoughthatwasnotalittle。Tothebestofhisjudgementneithernaturenorartcouldimprovethisperfectoneofanimperfectmany。
Hisheartbegantomovewithinhim。Boldwood，itmustberemembered，thoughfortyyearsofage，hadneverbeforeinspectedawomanwiththeverycentreandforceofhisglance；theyhadstruckuponallhissensesatwideangles。
`Wasshereallybeautiful？Hecouldnotassurehimselfthathisopinionwastrueevennow。Hefurtivelysaidtoaneighbour，`IsMissEverdeneconsideredhandsome？’
`Oyes；shewasagooddealnoticedthefirsttimeshecame，ifyouremember。Averyhandsomegirlindeed。’
Amanisnevermorecredulousthaninreceivingfavourableopinionsonthebeautyofawomanheishalforquite，inlovewith；amerechild’swordonthepointhastheweightofanR。A。’sBoldwoodwassatisfiednow。
Andthischarmingwomanhadineffectsaidtohim，`Marryme。’
`Whyshouldshehavedonethatstrangething？Boldwood’sblindnesstothedifferencebetweenapprovingofwhatcircumstancessuggest，andoriginatingwhattheydonotsuggest，waswellmatchedbyBathsheba’sinsensibilitytothepossiblygreatissuesoflittlebeginnings。
Shewasatthismomentcoollydealingwithadashingyoungfarmer，addingupaccountswithhimasindifferentlyasifhisfacehadbeenthepagesofaledger。ItwasevidentthatsuchanatureashishadnoattractionforawomanofBathsheba’staste。ButBoldwoodgrewhotdowntohishandswithanincipientjealousy；hetrodforthefirsttimethethresholdof`theinjuredlover’shell’Hisfirstimpulsewastogoandthrusthimselfbetweenthem。Thiscouldbedone，butonlyinoneway-byaskingtoseeasampleofhercorn。Boldwoodrenouncedtheidea。Hecouldnotmaketherequest；itwasdebasinglovelinesstoaskittobuyandsell，andjarredwithhisconceptionsofher。
AllthistimeBathshebawasconsciousofhavingbrokenintothatdignifiedstrongholdatlast。Hiseyes，sheknew，werefollowinghereverywhere。
Thiswasatriumph；andhaditcomenaturally，suchatriumphwouldhavebeenthesweetertoherforthispiquingdelay。Butithadbeenbroughtaboutbymisdirectedingenuity，andshevalueditonlyasshevaluedanartificialflowerorawaxfruit。
Beingawomanwithsomegoodsenseinreasoningonsubjectswhereinherheartwasnotinvolved，BathshebagenuinelyrepentedthatafreakwhichhadoweditsexistenceasmuchtoLiddyastoherself，shouldeverhavebeenundertaken，todisturbtheplacidityofamansherespectedtoohighlytodeliberatelytease。
Shethatdaynearlyformedtheintentionofbegginghispardonontheverynextoccasionoftheirmeeting。Theworstfeaturesofthisarrangementwerethat，ifhethoughtsheridiculedhim，anapologywouldincreasetheoffencebybeingdisbelieved；andifhethoughtshewantedhimtowooher，itwouldreadlikeadditionalevidenceofherforwardness。
CHAPTEREIGHTEENBoldwoodinMeditation-RegretBoldwoodwastenantofwhatwascalledLittleWeatherburyFarm，andhispersonwasthenearestapproachtoaristocracythatthisremoterquarteroftheparishcouldboastof。Genteelstrangers，whosegodwastheirtown，whomighthappentobecompelledtolingeraboutthisnookforaday，heardthesoundoflightwheels，andprayedtoseegoodsociety，tothedegreeofasolitarylord，orsquireattheveryleast，butitwasonlyMrBoldwoodgoingoutfortheday。Theyheardthesoundofwheelsyetoncemore，andwerere-animatedtoexpectancy：itwasonlyMrBoldwoodcominghomeagain。
Hishousestoodrecessedfromtheroad，andthestables，whicharetoafarmwhatafireplaceistoaroom，werebehind，theirlowerportionsbeinglostamidbushesoflaurel。Insidethebluedoor，openhalfwaydown，weretobeseenatthistimethebacksandtailsofhalf-a-dozenwarmandcontentedhorsesstandingintheirstalls；andasthusviewed，theypresentedalternationsofroanandbay，inshapeslikeaMoorisharch，thetailbeingastreakdownthemidstofeach。Overthese，andlosttotheeyegazinginfromtheouterlight，themouthsofthesameanimalscouldbeheardbusilysustainingtheabove-namedwarmthandplumpnessbyquantitiesofoatsandhay。Therestlessandshadowyfigureofacolt`wanderedaboutaloose-boxattheend，whilstthesteadygrindofalltheeaterswasoccasionallydiversifiedbytherattleofaropeorthestampofafoot。
PacingupanddownattheheelsoftheanimalswasFarmerBoldwoodhimselfThisplacewashisalmonryandcloistersinone：here，afterlookingtothefeedingofhisfour-footeddependants，thecelibatewouldwalkandmeditateofaneveningtillthemoon’sraysstreamedinthroughthecobwebbedwindows，ortotaldarknessenvelopedthescene。
Hissquare-framedperpendicularityshowedmorefullynowthaninthecrowdandbustleofthemarket-house。Inthismeditativewalkhisfootmetthefloorwithheelandtoesimultaneously，andhisfinereddish-fleshedfacewasbentdownwardsjustenoughtorenderobscurethestillmouthandthewell-roundedthoughratherprominentandbroadchin。Afewclearandthread-likehorizontallinesweretheonlyinterruptiontotheotherwisesmoothsurfaceofhislargeforehead。
ThephasesofBoldwood’slifewereordinaryenough，buthiswasnotanordinarynature。Thatstillness，whichstruckcasualobserversmorethananythingelseinhischaracterandhabit，andseemedsopreciselyliketherestofinanition，mayhavebeentheperfectbalanceofenormousantagonisticforces-positivesandnegativesinfineadjustment。Hisequilibriumdisturbed，hewasinextremityatonce。Ifanemotionpossessedhimatall，itruledhim；afeelingnotmasteringhimwasentirelylatent。Stagnantorrapid，itwasneverslow。Hewasalwayshitmortally，orhewasmissed。
Hehadnolightandcarelesstouchesinhisconstitution，eitherforgoodorforevil。Stemintheoutlinesofaction，mildinthedetails，hewasseriousthroughoutall。Hesawnoabsurdsidestothefolliesoflife，andthus，thoughnotquitecompanionableintheeyesofmerrymenandscoffers，andthosetowhomallthingsshowlifeasajest，hewasnotintolerabletotheearnestandthoseacquaintedwithgrief。Beingamanwhoreadallthedramasoflifeseriously，ifhefailedtopleasewhentheywerecomedies，therewasnofrivoloustreatmenttoreproachhimforwhentheychancedtoendtragically。
Bathshebawasfarfromdreamingthatthedarkandsilentshape-uponwhichshehadsocarelesslythrownaseedwasahotbedoftropicintensityHadsheknownBoldwood’smoodsherblamewouldhavebeenfearful，andthestainuponherheartineradicable。Moreover，hadsheknownherpresentpowerforgoodoreviloverthisman，shewouldhavetrembledatherresponsibility。
Luckilyforherpresent，unluckilyforherfuturetranquillity，herunderstandinghadnotyettoldherwhatBoldwoodwas。Nobodyknewentirely；forthoughitwaspossibletoformguessesconcerninghiswildcapabilitiesfromoldfloodmarksfaintlyvisible，hehadneverbeenseenatthehightideswhichcausedthem。
FarmerBoldwoodcametothestable-doorandlookedforthacrossthelevelfields。Beyondthefirstenclosurewasahedge，andontheothersideofthisameadowbelongingtoBathsheba’sfarm。
Itwasnowearlyspring-thetimeofgoingtograsswiththesheep，whentheyhavethefirstfeedofthemeadows，beforethesearelaidupformowing。Thewind，whichhadbeenblowingeastforseveralweeks，hadveeredtothesouthward，andthemiddleofspringhadcomeabruptly-almostwithoutabeginning。ItwasthatperiodinthevernalquarterwhenwemaysupposetheDryadstobewakingfortheseason。Thevegetableworldbeginstomoveandswellandthesapstorise，tillinthecompletestsilenceoflonegardensandtracklessplantations，whereeverythingseemshelplessandstillafterthebondandslaveryoffrost，therearebustlings，strainings，unitedthrusts，andpulls-all-together，incomparisonwithwhichthepowerfultugsofcranesandpulleysinanoisycityarebutpigmyefforts。
Boldwood，lookingintothedistantmeadows，sawtherethreefigures。
TheywerethoseofMissEverdene，ShepherdOak，andCainyBall。
WhenBathsheba’sfigureshoneuponthefarmer’seyesitlightedhimupasthemoonlightsupagreattower。Aman’sbodyisastheshell，orthetablet，ofhissoul，asheisreservedoringenuous，overflowingorself-contained。TherewasachangeinBoldwood’sexteriorfromitsformerimpassibleness；andhisfaceshowedthathewasnowlivingoutsidehisdefencesforthefirsttime，andwithafearfulsenseofexposure。Itistheusualexperienceofstrongnatureswhentheylove。
Atlasthearrivedataconclusion。Itwastogoacrossandinquireboldlyofher。
Theinsulationofhisheartbyreserveduringthesemanyyears，withoutachannelofanykindfordisposableemotion，hadworkeditseffect。Ithasbeenobservedmorethanoncethatthecausesoflovearechieflysubjective，andBoldwoodwasalivingtestimonytothetruthoftheproposition。Nomotherexistedtoabsorbhisdevotion，nosisterforhistenderness，noidletiesforsense。Hebecamesurchargedwiththecompound，whichwasgenuinelover’slove。
Heapproachedthegateofthemeadow。Beyonditthegroundwasmelodiouswithripples，andtheskywithlarks；thelowbleatingoftheflockminglingwithboth。Mistressandmanwereengagedintheoperationofmakingalamb`take’，whichisperformedwheneveranewehaslostherownoffspring，oneofthetwinsofanotherewebeinggivenherasasubstitute。Gabrielhadskinnedthedeadlamb，andwastyingtheskinoverthebodyofthelivelambinthecustomarymanner，whilstBathshebawasholdingopenalittlepenoffourhurdles，intowhichthemotherandfoistedlambweredriven，wheretheywouldremaintilltheoldsheepconceivedanaffectionfortheyoungone。
Bathshebalookedupatthecompletionofthemanoeuvreandsawthefarmerbythegate，wherehewasoverhungbyawillowtreeinfullbloom。Gabriel，towhomherfacewasastheuncertaingloryofanAprilday，wasveryregardfulofitsfaintestchanges，andinstantlydiscernedthereonthemarkofsomeinfluencefromwithout，intheformofakeenlyself-consciousreddening。
HealsoturnedandbeheldBoldwood。
AtonceconnectingthesesignswiththeletterBoldwoodhadshownhim，Gabrielsuspectedherofsomecoquettishprocedurebeginbythatmeans，andcarriedonsince，heknewnothow。
FarmerBoldwoodhadreadthepantomimedenotingthattheywereawareofhispresence，andtheperceptionwasastoomuchlightturnedurnhisnewsensibility。Hewasstillintheroad，andbymovingonhehopedthatneitherwouldrecognizethathehadoriginallyintendedtoenterthefield。
Hepassedbywithanutterandoverwhelmingsensationofignorance，shyness，anddoubt。Perhapsinhermannerthereweresignsthatshewishedtoseehim-perhapsnot-hecouldnotreadawoman。Thecabalaofthiseroticphilosophyseemedtoconsistofthesubtlestmeaningsexpressedinmisleadingways。Everyturn，look，word，andaccentcontainedamysteryquitedistinctfromitsobviousimport，andnotonehadeverbeenponderedbyhimuntilnow。
AsforBathsheba，shewasnotdeceivedintothebeliefthatFarmerBoldwoodhadwalkedbyonbusinessorinidleness。Shecollectedtheprobabilitiesofthecase，andconcludedthatshewasherselfresponsibleforBoldwood’sappearancethere。Ittroubledhermuchtoseewhatagreatflamealittlewildfirewaslikelytokindle。Bathshebawasnoschemerformarriage，norwasshedeliberatelyatriflerwiththeaffectionsofmen，andacensorsexperienceonseeinganactualflirtafterobservingherwouldhavebeenafeelingofsurprisethatBathshebacouldbesodifferentfromsuchaone，andyetsolikewhataflirtissupposedtobe。
Sheresolvedneveragain，bylookorbysign，tointerruptthesteadyflowofthisman’slife。Butaresolutiontoavoidanevilisseldomframedtilltheevilissofaradvancedastomakeavoidanceimpossible。
CHAPTERNINETEENTheSheep-washing-TheOfferBoldwooddideventuallycalluponher。Shewasnotathome。`Ofcoursenot，’hemurmured。IncontemplatingBathshebaasawoman，hehadforgottentheaccidentsofherpositionasanagriculturist-thatbeingasmuchofafarmer，andasextensiveafarmer，ashimself，herprobablewhereabouts`wasout-of-doorsatthistimeoftheyear。This，andtheotheroversightsBoldwood`wasguiltyofwerenaturaltothemood，andstillmorenaturaltothecircumstances。Thegreataidstoidealizationinlovewerepresenthere：occasionalobservationofherfromadistance，andtheabsenceofsocialintercoursewithher-visualfamiliarity，oralstrangeness。Thesmallerhumanelementswerekeptoutofsight；thepettinessesthatentersolargelyintoallearthlylivinganddoingweredisguisedbytheaccidentofloverandloved-onenotbeingonvisitingterms；andtherewashardlyawakenedathoughtinBoldwoodthatsorryhouseholdrealitiesappertainedtoher，orthatshe，likeallothers，hadmomentsofcommonplace，whentobeleastplainlyseenwastobemostprettilyremembered。Thusamildsortofapotheosistookplaceinhisfancy，whilstshestilllivedandbreathedwithinhisownhorizon，atroubledcreaturelikehimself。
ItwastheendofMaywhenthefarmerdeterminedtobenolongerrepulsedbytrivialitiesordistractedbysuspense。Hehadbythistimegrownusedtobeinginlove；thepassionnowstartledhimlessevenwhenittorturedhimmore，andhefelthimselfadequatetothesituation。Oninquiringforheratherhousetheyhadtoldhimshewasatthesheep-washing，andhewentofftoseekherthere。
Thesheep-washingpoolwasaperfectlycircularbasinofbrickworkinthemeadows，fulloftheclearestwater。Tobirdsonthewingitsglassysurface，reflectingthelightsly，musthavebeenvisibleformilesaroundasaglisteningCyclops’eyeinagreenface。Thegrassaboutthemarginatthisseasonwasasighttorememberlong-inaminorsortofway。Itsactivityinsuckingthemoisturefromtherichdampsodwasalmostaprocessobservablebytheeye。Theoutskirtsofthislevelwater-meadowwerediversifiedbyroundedandhollowpastures，wherejustnoweveryflowerthatwasnotabuttercupwasadaisy。Theriverslidalongnoiselesslyasashade，theswellingreedsandsedgeformingaflexiblepalisadeuponitsmoistbrink。
Tothenorthofthemeadweretrees，theleavesofwhichwerenew，soft，andmoist，notyethavingstiffenedanddarkenedundersummersunanddrought，theircolourbeingyellowbesideagreen-greenbesideayellow。Fromtherecessesofthisknotoffoliagetheloudnotesofthreecuckooswereresoundingthroughthestillair。
Boldwoodwentmeditatingdowntheslopeswithhiseyesonhisboots，whichtheyellowpollenfromthebuttercupshadbronzedinartisticgradations。
Atributaryofthemainstreamflowedthroughthebasinofthepoolbyaninletandoutletatoppositepointsofitsdiameter。ShepherdOak，JanCoggan，Moon，Poorgrass，CainBall，andseveralotherswereassembledhere，alldrippingwettotheveryrootsoftheirhair，andBathshebawasstandingbyInanewriding-habit-themostelegantshehadeverworn-thereinsofherhorsebeingloopedoverherarm。Flagonsofciderwererollingaboutupontheden。ThemeeksheepwerepushedintothepoolbyCogganandMatthewMoon，whostoodbythelowerhatch，immersedtotheirwaists；thenGabriel，whostoodonthebrink，thrustthemunderastheyswamalong，withaninstrumentlikeacrutch，formedforthepurpose，andalsoforassistingtheexhaustedanimalswhenthewoolbecamesaturatedandtheybegantosink。Theywereletoutagainstthestream，andthroughtheupperopening，allimpuritiesflowingawaybelow。CainyBallandJoseph，whoperformedthislatteroperation，wereifpossiblewetterthantherest；theyresembleddolphinsunderafountain，everyprotuberanceandangleoftheirclothesdribblingforthasmallrill。
Boldwoodcamecloseandbadehergoodmorningwithsuchconstraintthatshecouldnotbutthinkhehadsteppedacrosstothewashingforitsownsake，hopingnottofindherthere；more，shefanciedhisbrowsevereandhiseyeslighting。Bathshebaimmediatelycontrivedtowithdraw，andglidedalongbytherivertillshewasastone’sthrowoffSheheardfootstepsbrushingthegrass，andhadaconsciousnessthatlovewasencirclingherlikeaperfume。Insteadofturningorwaiting，Bathshebawentfurtheramongthehighsedges，butBoldwoodseemeddetermined，andpressedontilltheywerecompletelypastthebendoftheriver。Here，withoutbeingseen，theycouldhearthesplashingandshoutsofthewashersabove。
`MissEverdene！’saidthefarmer。
Shetrembled，turned，andsaid`Goodmorning。’Histonewassoutterlyremovedfromallshehadexpectedasabeginning。Itwaslownessandquietaccentuated；anemphasisofdeepmeanings，theirform，atthesametime，beingscarcelyexpressed。Silencehassometimesaremarkablepowerofshowingitselfasthedisembodiedsouloffeelingwanderingwithoutitscarcase，anditisthenmoreimpressivethanspeech。Inthesameway，tosayalittleisoftentotellmorethantosayagreatdeal。Boldwoodtoldeverythinginthatword。
Astheconsciousnessexpandsonlearningthatwhatwasfanciedtobetherumbleofwheelsisthereverberationofthunder，sodidBathsheba’satherintuitiveconviction。
`Ifeel-almosttoomuch-tothink，’hesaid，withasolemnsimplickty。
`Ihavecometospeaktoyouwithoutpreface。MylifeisnotmyownsinceIhavebeheldyouclearly，MissEverdene-Icometomakeyouanofferofmarriage。’
Bathshebatriedtopreserveanabsolutelyneutralcountenance，andallthemotionshemadewasthatofclosinglipswhichhadpreviouslybeenalittleparted。
`Iamnowforty-oneyearsold，’hewenton。`Imayhavebeencalledaconfirmedbachelor，andIwasaconfirmedbachelor。Ihadneveranyviewsofmyselfasahusbandinmyearlierdays，norhaveImadeanycalculationonthesubjectsinceIhavebeenolder。Butweallchange，andmychange，inthismatter，camewithseeingyou。Ihavefeltlately，moreandmore，thatmypresentwayoflivingisbadineveryrespect。Beyondallthings，Iwantyouasmywife。’
`Ifeel，MrBoldwood，thatthoughIrespectyoumuch，Idonotfeel-whatwouldjustifymeto-inacceptingyouroffer，’shestammered。
ThisgivingbackofdignityfordignityseemedtoopenthesluicesoffeelingthatBoldwoodhadasyetkeptclosed。
`Mylifeisaburdenwithoutyou，’heexclaimed，inalowvoice。`I
wantyou-IwantyoutoletmesayIloveyouagainandagain！’
Bathshebaanswerednothing，andthemareuponherarmseemedsoimpressedthatinsteadofcroppingtheherbageshelookedup。
`IthinkandhopeyoucareenoughformetolistentowhatIhavetotell！’
Bathsheba’smomentaryimpulseathearingthiswastoaskwhyhethoughtthat，tillsherememberedthat，farfrombeingaconceitedassumptiononBoldwood’spart，itwasbutthenaturalconclusionofseriousreflectionbasedondeceptivepremisesofherownoffering。
`IwishIcouldsaycourteousflatteriestoyou，’thefarmercontinuedinaneasiertone，`andputmytuggedfeelingintoagracefulshape：butIhaveneitherpowernorpatiencetolearnsuchthings。Iwantyouformywife-sowildlythatnootherfeelingcanabideinme；butIshouldnothavespokenouthadInotbeenledtohope。’
`Thevalentineagain！Othatvalentine！’shesaidtoherself，butnotawordtohim。
`Ifyoucanlovemesayso’MissEverdene。Ifnot-don’tsayno！’
`MrBoldwood，itispainfultohavetosayIamsurprised，sothatI
don’tknowhowtoansweryouwithproprietyandrespect-butamonlyjustabletospeakoutmyfeelingImeanmymeaning；thatIamafraidIcan’tmarryyou，muchasIrespectyou。Youaretoodignifiedformetosuityou，sir。’
`But，MissEverdene！’
`I-Ididn’t-IknowIoughtnevertohavedreamtofsendingthatvalentine-forgiveme，sir-itwasawantonthingwhichnowomanwithanyself-respectshouldhavedone。Ifyouwillonlypardonmythoughtlessness，Ipromiseneverto——’
`No，no，no。Don’tsaythoughtlessness！Makemethinkitwassomethingmore-thatitwasasortofpropheticinstinct-thebeginningofafeelingthatyouwouldlikeme。Youtorturemetosayitwasdoneinthoughtlessness-Ineverthoughtofitinthatlight，andIcan’tendureit。Ah！IwishIknewhowtowinyou！butthatIcan’tdo-IcanonlyaskifIhavealreadygotyou。IfIhavenot，anditisnottruethatyouhavecomeunwittinglytomeasIhavetoyou，Icansaynomore。’