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Updated: June 7, 2025
The wedding morning came. Nobody would have imagined from appearances that Blooms-End had any interest in Mistover that day. A solemn stillness prevailed around the house of Clym's mother, and there was no more animation indoors. Mrs.
A light cart from the nearest town descended the road, and the lad who was driving pulled up in front of the inn for something to drink. "You come from Mistover?" said Wildeve. "Yes. They are taking in good things up there. Going to be a wedding." And the driver buried his face in his mug. Wildeve had not received an inkling of the fact before, and a sudden expression of pain overspread his face.
Yeobright. "Have they gone to their new home?" "I don't know. I have had no news from Mistover since Thomasin left to go." "You did not go with her?" said she, as if there might be good reasons why. "I could not," said Wildeve, reddening slightly. "We could not both leave the house; it was rather a busy morning, on account of Anglebury Great Market.
She questioned Christian, and the confusion in his answers would at once have led her to believe that something was wrong, had not one-half of his story been corroborated by Thomasin's note. Mrs. Yeobright was in this state of uncertainty when she was informed one morning that her son's wife was visiting her grandfather at Mistover.
"'Tis cleft-wood, that's what 'tis," said Timothy Fairway. "Nothing would burn like that except clean timber. And 'tis on the knap afore the old captain's house at Mistover. Such a queer mortal as that man is! To have a little fire inside your own bank and ditch, that nobody else may enjoy it or come anigh it!
Yeobright. "Have they gone to their new home?" "I don't know. I have had no news from Mistover since Thomasin left to go." "You did not go with her?" said she, as if there might be good reasons why. "I could not," said Wildeve, reddening slightly. "We could not both leave the house; it was rather a busy morning, on account of Anglebury Great Market.
When they reached the lofty ridge which divided the valley of Blooms-End from the adjoining valley they stood still and looked round. The Quiet Woman Inn was visible on the low margin of the heath in one direction, and afar on the other hand rose Mistover Knap. "You mean to call on Thomasin?" he inquired. "Yes. But you need not come this time," said his mother.
Wildeve came back put on his hat, took the bottle, and left the house, turning the key in the door, for there was no guest at the inn tonight. As soon as he was on the road the little bonfire on Mistover Knap again met his eye. "Still waiting, are you, my lady?" he murmured.
She tried to dismiss the vision, and walked about the garden plot; but her eyes ever and anon sought out the direction of the parish church to which Mistover belonged, and her excited fancy clove the hills which divided the building from her eyes. The morning wore away. Eleven o'clock struck could it be that the wedding was then in progress? It must be so.
The next morning, at the time when the height of the sun appeared very insignificant from any part of the heath as compared with the altitude of Rainbarrow, and when all the little hills in the lower levels were like an archipelago in a fog-formed Aegean, the reddleman came from the brambled nook which he had adopted as his quarters and ascended the slopes of Mistover Knap.
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