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Updated: May 11, 2025
Her walk thither from the garden gate had been hasty and determined, as of a woman who was now no less anxious to escape from the scene than she had previously been to enter it. Her eyes were fixed on the ground; within her two sights were graven that of Clym's hook and brambles at the door, and that of a woman's face at a window.
Humphrey expressed his sorrow at Clym's condition, and added, "Now, if yours was low-class work like mine, you could go on with it just the same." "Yes, I could," said Yeobright musingly. "How much do you get for cutting these faggots?" "Half-a-crown a hundred, and in these long days I can live very well on the wages."
Towards evening he arrived, and pronounced the disease to be acute inflammation induced by Clym's night studies, continued in spite of a cold previously caught, which had weakened his eyes for the time. Fretting with impatience at this interruption to a task he was so anxious to hasten, Clym was transformed into an invalid.
He did not even desire Clym's absence, since it was just possible that Eustacia might resent any situation which could compromise her dignity as a wife, whatever the state of her heart towards him. Women were often so. He went accordingly; and it happened that the time of his arrival coincided with that of Mrs. Yeobright's pause on the hill near the house.
"Poor chips-in-porridge, you are very unmannerly." "I don't know about that! And I say you be unmannerly! You've got money that isn't your own. Half the guineas are poor Mr. Clym's." "How's that?" "Because I had to gie fifty of 'em to him. Mrs. Yeobright said so." "Oh?... Well, 'twould have been more graceful of her to have given them to his wife Eustacia. But they are in my hands now."
Wildeve's were a hundred miles apart instead of four or five." "Then there WAS an understanding between him and Clym's wife when he made a fool of Thomasin!" "We'll hope there's no understanding now." "And our hope will probably be very vain. O Clym! O Thomasin!" "There's no harm done yet. In fact, I've persuaded Wildeve to mind his own business." "How?"
She wondered at the lateness of his call, but had no objection to see him. He gave her a full account of Clym's affliction, and of the state in which he was living; then, referring to Thomasin, touched gently upon the apparent sadness of her days.
She had lapsed into an easy and dignified calm, far removed from the intensity of life in her words of solicitude for Clym's safety. "Will it be possible to draw water here tonight?" she inquired. "No, miss; the bottom of the bucket is clean knocked out. And as we can do no more now we'll leave off, and come again tomorrow morning." "No water," she murmured, turning away.
There, by the scraper, lay Clym's hook and the handful of faggot-bonds he had brought home; in front of her were the empty path, the garden gate standing slightly ajar; and, beyond, the great valley of purple heath thrilling silently in the sun. Mrs. Yeobright was gone. Clym's mother was at this time following a path which lay hidden from Eustacia by a shoulder of the hill.
Accordingly, when watching on the night after the festival, the reddleman saw him ascend by the little path, lean over the front gate of Clym's garden, sigh, and turn to go back again. It was plain that Wildeve's intrigue was rather ideal than real.
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