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Updated: May 17, 2025
It was difficult to believe that Thomasin would be cheered by a husband with such tendencies as these. Yet he resolved to ask her, and let her decide for herself.
It is to be on the twenty-fifth of next month, if you don't object." "Do what you think right, dear. I am only too glad that you see your way clear to happiness again. My sex owes you every amends for the treatment you received in days gone by."* * The writer may state here that the original conception of the story did not design a marriage between Thomasin and Venn.
"Yes," Thomasin murmured, "and I suppose I seem so now... Damon, what do you mean to do about me?" "Do about you?" "Yes. Those who don't like you whisper things which at moments make me doubt you. We mean to marry, I suppose, don't we?" "Of course we do. We have only to go to Budmouth on Monday, and we marry at once." "Then do let us go! O Damon, what you make me say!"
"Thomasin, Thomasin!" she said, looking indignantly at Wildeve; "here's a pretty exposure! Let us escape at once. Come!" It was, however, too late to get away by the passage. A rugged knocking had begun upon the door of the front room. Wildeve, who had gone to the window, came back. "Stop!" he said imperiously, putting his hand upon Mrs. Yeobright's arm. "We are regularly besieged.
Two months and a half, Thomasin, the last of her life, did my poor mother live alone, distracted and mourning because of me; yet she was unvisited by me, though I was living only six miles off. Two months and a half seventy-five days did the sun rise and set upon her in that deserted state which a dog didn't deserve!
It was even with a pleasant sense of doing his duty that he went downstairs to her one evening for this purpose, when the sun was printing on the valley the same long shadow of the housetop that he had seen lying there times out of number while his mother lived. Thomasin was not in her room, and he found her in the front garden.
He was to have retained his isolated and weird character to the last, and to have disappeared mysteriously from the heath, nobody knowing whither Thomasin remaining a widow. But certain circumstances of serial publication led to a change of intent.
I thought to have seen Wildeve here tonight. Is he from home?" Thomasin blushed a little. "No," she said. "He is merely gone out for a walk." "Why didn't he take you with him? The evening is fine. You want fresh air as well as he." "Oh, I don't care for going anywhere; besides, there is baby." "Yes, yes.
"I have long been wanting, Thomasin," he began, "to say something about a matter that concerns both our futures." "And you are going to say it now?" she remarked quickly, colouring as she met his gaze. "Do stop a minute, Clym, and let me speak first, for oddly enough, I have been wanting to say something to you." "By all means say on, Tamsie."
"But this kind man who has done so much will, I am sure, take you right on to my house?" said the aunt, turning to the reddleman, who had withdrawn from the front of the van on the awakening of the girl, and stood in the road. "Why should you think it necessary to ask me? I will, of course," said he. "He is indeed kind," murmured Thomasin.
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