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"I like Fanny best." said Troy; "and if, as you say, Miss Everdene is out of my reach, why I have all to gain by accepting your money, and marrying Fan. But she's only a servant." "Never mind do you agree to my arrangement?" "I do." "Ah!" said Boldwood, in a more elastic voice. "O, Troy, if you like her best, why then did you step in here and injure my happiness?"
"I love Fanny best now," said Troy. "But Bathsh Miss Everdene inflamed me, and displaced Fanny for a time. It is over now." "Why should it be over so soon? And why then did you come here again?" "There are weighty reasons. Fifty pounds at once, you said!" "I did," said Boldwood, "and here they are fifty sovereigns." He handed Troy a small packet.
"But she has a will not to say a temper, and I shall be a mere slave to her. I could do anything with poor Fanny Robin." "Troy," said Boldwood, imploringly, "I'll do anything for you, only don't desert her; pray don't desert her, Troy." "Which, poor Fanny?" "No; Bathsheba Everdene. Love her best! Love her tenderly!
At evening he had fancifully traced it down the chimney to the spot of its origin seen the hearth and Bathsheba beside it beside it in her out-door dress; for the clothes she had worn on the hill were by association equally with her person included in the compass of his affection; they seemed at this early time of his love a necessary ingredient of the sweet mixture called Bathsheba Everdene.
Young man, fie!" "No, I don't! 'Tis you want to squander a pore boy's soul, Joseph Poorgrass that's what 'tis!" said Cain, beginning to cry. "All I mane is that in common truth 'twas Miss Everdene and Sergeant Troy, but in the horrible so-help-me truth that ye want to make of it perhaps 'twas somebody else!" "There's no getting at the rights of it," said Gabriel, turning to his work.
I'll make answer hencefor'ard, "Of course a lady like Miss Everdene can't love him;" I'll say it out in plain black and white." Bathsheba burst out: "O Liddy, are you such a simpleton? Can't you read riddles? Can't you see? Are you a woman yourself?" Liddy's clear eyes rounded with wonderment. "Yes; you must be a blind thing, Liddy!" she said, in reckless abandonment and grief.
He had come to apologize and beg forgiveness of Bathsheba with some- thing like a sense of shame at his violence, having but just now learnt that she had returned only from a visit to Liddy, as he supposed, the Bath escapade being quite unknown to him. He inquired for Miss Everdene. Liddy's manner was odd, but he did not notice it.
Oak went up to the door a little abashed: his mental rehearsal and the reality had had no common grounds of opening. Bathsheba's aunt was indoors. "Will you tell Miss Everdene that somebody would be glad to speak to her?" said Mr. Oak. The voice had evidently been hers. "Will you come in, Mr. Oak?" "Oh, thank 'ee, said Gabriel, following her to the fireplace.
"But, Sergeant Troy, I cannot take this I cannot!" she exclaimed, with round-eyed wonder. "A gold watch! What are you doing? Don't be such a dissembler!" The sergeant retreated to avoid receiving back his gift, which she held out persistently towards him. Bathsheba followed as he retired. "Keep it do, Miss Everdene keep it!" said the erratic child of impulse.
Ah, well, Miss Everdene, you are pardon my blunt way you are rather an injury to our race than otherwise." "How indeed?" she said, opening her eyes. "Oh, it is true enough. Why, Miss Everdene, it is in this manner that your good looks may do more harm than good in the world." The sergeant looked down the mead in critical abstraction.
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