r　toe　unconsciously　tapping　the　dry　turf　which　lay　burning　at　her　feet。
  The　subject　of　their　discourse　had　been　keenly　interesting　to　her。　　A　young　and　clever　man　was　ing　into　that　lonely　heath　from；　of　all　contrasting　places　in　the　world；　Paris。　　It　was　like　a　man　ing　from　heaven。　　More　singular　still；　the　heathmen　had　instinctively　coupled　her　and　this　man　together　in　their　minds　as　a　pair　born　for　each　other。
  That　five　minutes　of　overhearing　furnished　Eustacia　with　visions　enough　to　fill　the　whole　blank　afternoon。　　Such　sudden　alternations　from　mental　vacuity　do　sometimes　occur　thus　quietly。　　She　could　never　have　believed　in　the　morning　that　her　colourless　inner　world　would　before　night　bee　as　animated　as　water　under　a　microscope；　and　that　without　the　arrival　of　a　single　visitor。　　The　words　of　Sam　and　Humphrey　on　the　harmony　between　the　unknown　and　herself　had　on　her　mind　the　effect　of　the　invading　Bard’s　prelude　in　the　Castle　of　Indolence；　at　which　myriads　of　imprisoned　shapes　arose　where　had　previously　appeared　the　stillness　of　a　void。
  Involved　in　these　imaginings　she　knew　nothing　of　time。
  When　she　became　conscious　of　externals　it　was　dusk。
  The　furze…rick　was　finished；　the　men　had　gone　home。　　Eustacia　went　upstairs；　thinking　that　she　would　take　a　walk　at　this　her　usual　time；　and　she　determined　that　her　walk　should　be　in　the　direction　of　Blooms…End；　the　birthplace　of　young　Yeobright　and　the　present　home　of　his　mother。　　She　had　no　reason　for　walking　elsewhere；　and　why　should　she　not　go　that　way？　　The　scene　of　the　daydream　is　sufficient　for　a　pilgrimage　at　nineteen。　　To　look　at　the　palings　before　the　Yeobrights’　house　had　the　dignity　of　a　necessary　performance。　　Strange　that　such　a　piece　of　idling　should　have　seemed　an　important　errand。
  She　put　on　her　bonnet；　and；　leaving　the　house；　descended　the　hill　on　the　side　towards　Blooms…End；　where　she　walked　slowly　along　the　valley　for　a　distance　of　a　mile　and　a　half。　　This　brought　her　to　a　spot　in　which　the　green　bottom　of　the　dale　began　to　widen；　the　furze　bushes　to　recede　yet　further　from　the　path　on　each　side；　till　they　were　diminished　to　an　isolated　one　here　and　there　by　the　increasing　fertility　of　the　soil。　　Beyond　the　irregular　carpet　of　grass　was　a　row　of　white　palings；　which　marked　the　verge　of　the　heath　in　this　latitude。　　They　showed　upon　the　dusky　scene　that　they　bordered　as　distinctly　as　white　lace　on　velvet。　　Behind　the　white　palings　was　a　little　garden；　behind　the　garden　an　old；　irregular；　thatched　house；　facing　the　heath；　and　manding　a　full　view　of　the　valley。　　This　was　the　obscure；　removed　spot　to　which　was　about　to　return　a　man　whose　latter　life　had　been　passed　in　the　French　capital—the　centre　and　vortex　of　the　fashionable　world。
  2　… The　People　at　Blooms…End　Make　Ready
  All　that　afternoon　the　expected　arrival　of　the　subject　of　Eustacia’s　ruminations　created　a　bustle　of　preparation　at　Blooms…End。　Thomasin　had　been　persuaded　by　her　aunt；　and　by　an　instinctive　impulse　of　loyalty　towards　her　cousin　Clym；　to　bestir　herself　on　his　account　with　an　alacrity　unusual　in　her　during　these　most　sorrowful　days　of　her　life。　　At　the　time　that　Eustacia　was　listening　to　the　rick…makers’　conversation　on　Clym’s　return；　Thomasin　was　climbing　into　a　loft　over　her　aunt’s　fuelhouse；　where　the　store…apples　were　kept；　to　search　out　the　best　and　largest　of　them　for　the　ing　holiday…time。
  The　loft　was　lighted　by　a　semicircular　hole；　through　which　the　pigeons　crept　to　their　lodgings　in　the　same　high　quarters　of　the　premises；　and　from　this　hole　the　sun　shone　in　a　bright　yellow　patch　upon　the　figure　of　the　maiden　as　she　knelt　and　plunged　her　naked　arms　into　the　soft　brown　fern；　which；　from　its　abundance；　was　used　on　Egdon　in　packing　away　stores　of　all　kinds。　　The　pigeons　were　flying　about　her　head　with　the　greatest　unconcern；　and　the　face　of　her　aunt　was　just　visible　above　the　floor　of　the　loft；　lit　by　a　few　stray　motes　of　light；　as　she　stood　halfway　up　the　ladder；　looking　at　a　spot　into　which　she　was　not　climber　enough　to　venture。
  “Now　a　few　russets；　Tamsin。　　He　used　to　like　them　almost　as　well　as　ribstones。”
  Thomasin　turned　and　rolled　aside　the　fern　from　another　nook；　where　more　mellow　fruit　greeted　her　with　its　ripe　smell。　　Before　picking　them　out　she　stopped　a　moment。
  “Dear　Clym；　I　wonder　how　your　face　looks　now？”　she　said；　gazing　abstractedly　at　the　pigeon…hole。　which　admitted　the　sunlight　so　directly　upon　her　brown　hair　and　transparent　tissues　that　it　almost　seemed　to　shine　through　her。
  “If　he　could　have　been　dear　to　you　in　another　way；”　said　Mrs。　Yeobright　from　the　ladder；　“this　might　have　been　a　happy　meeting。”
  “Is　there　any　use　in　saying　what　can　do　no　good；　Aunt？”
  “Yes；”　said　her　aunt；　with　some　warmth。　　“To　thoroughly　fill　the　air　with　the　past　misfortune；　so　that　other　girls　may　take　warning　and　keep　clear　of　it。”
  Thomasin　lowered　her　face　to　the　apples　again。　　“I　am　a　warning　to　others；　just　as　thieves　and　drunkards　and　gamblers　are；”　she　said　in　a　low　voice。　　“What　a　class　to　belong　to！　Do　I　really　belong　to　them？　　‘Tis　absurd！　Yet　why；　Aunt；　does　everybody　keep　on　making　me　think　that　I　do；　by　the　way　they　behave　towards　me？　　Why　don’t　people　judge　me　by　my　acts？　　Now；　look　at　me　as　I　kneel　here；　picking　up　these　apples—do　I　look　like　a　lost　woman？。。。I　wish　all　good　women　were　as　good　as　I！”　she　added　vehemently。
  “Strangers　don’t　see　you　as　I　do；”　said　Mrs。　Yeobright；
  “they　judge　from　false　report。　　Well；　it　is　a　silly　job；　and　I　am　partly　to　blame。”
  “How　quickly　a　rash　thing　can　be　done！”　replied　the　girl。　　Her　lips　were　quivering；　and　tears　so　crowded　themselves　into　her　eyes　that　she　could　hardly　distinguish　apples　from　fern　as　she　continued　industriously　searching　to　hide　her　weakness。
  “As　soon　as　you　have　finished　getting　the　apples；”　her　aunt　said；　descending　the　ladder；　“e　down；　and　we’ll　go　for　the　holly。　　There　is　nobody　on　the　heath　this　afternoon；　and　you　need　not　fear　being　stared　at。　　We　must　get　some　berries；　or　Clym　will　never　believe　in　our　preparations。”
  Thomasin　came　down　when　the　apples　were　collected；　and　together　they　went　through　the　white　palings　to　the　heath　beyond。　　The　open　hills　were　airy　and　clear；　and　the　remote　atmosphere　appeared；　as　it　often　appears　on　a　fine　winter　day；　in　distinct　planes　of　illumination　independently　toned；　the　rays　which　lit　the　nearer　tracts　of　landscape　streaming　visibly　across　those　further　off；　a　stratum　of　ensaffroned　light　was　imposed　on　a　stratum　of　deep　blue；　and　behind　these　lay　still　remoter　scenes　wrapped　in　frigid　grey。
  They　reached　the　place　where　the　hollies　grew；　which　was　in　a　conical　pit；　so　that　the　tops　of　the　trees　were　not　much　above　the　general　level　of　the　ground。　　Thomasin　stepped　up　into　a　fork　of　one　of　the　bushes；　as　she　had　done　under　happier　circumstances　on　many　similar　occasions；　and　with　a　small　chopper　that　they　had　brought　she　began　to　lop　off　the　heavily　berried　boughs。
  “Don’t　scratch　your　face；”　said　her　aunt；　who　stood　at　the　edge　of　the　pit；　regarding　the　girl　as　she　held　on　amid　the　glistening　green　and　scarlet　masses　of　the　tree。　　“Will　you　walk　with　me　to　meet　him　this　evening？”
  “I　should　like　to。　　Else　it　would　seem　as　if　I　had　forgotten　him；”　said　Thomasin；　tossing　out　a　bough。　　“Not　that　that　would　matter　much；　I　belong　to　one　man；　nothing　can　alter　that。　　And　that　man　I　must　marry；　for　my　pride’s　sake。”
  “I　am　afraid—“　began　Mrs。　Yeobright。
  “Ah；　you　think；　‘That　weak　girl—how　is　she　going　to　get　a　man　to　marry　her　when　she　chooses？’　But　let　me　tell　you　one　thing；　Aunt：　Mr。　Wildeve　is　not　a　profligate　man；　any　more　than　I　am　an　improper　woman。　　He　has　an　unfortunate　manner；　and　doesn’t　try　to　make　people　like　him　if　they　don’t　wish　to　do　it　of　their　own　accord。”
  “Thomasin；”　said　Mrs。　Yeobright　quietly；　fixing　her　eye　upon　her　niece；　“do　you　think　you　deceive　me　in　your　defence　of　Mr。　Wildeve？”
  “How　do　you　mean？”
  “I　have　long　had　a　suspicion　that　your　love　for　him　has　changed　its　colour　since　you　have　found　him　not　to　be　the　saint　you　thought　him；　and　that　you　act　a　part　to　me。”
  “He　wished　to　marry　me；　and　I　wish　to　marry　him。”
  “Now；　I　put　it　to　you：　would　you　at　this　present　moment　agree　to　be　his　wife　if　that　had　not　happened　to　entangle　you　with　him？”
  Thomasin　looked　into　the　tree　and　appeared　much　disturbed。　　“Aunt；”　she　said　presently；　“I　have；　I　think；　a　right　to　refuse　to　answer　that　question。”
  “Yes；　you　have。”
  “You　may　think　what　you　choose。　　I　have　never　implied　to　you　by　word　or　deed　that　I　have　grown　to　think　otherwise　of　him；　and　I　never　will。　　And　I　shall　marry　him。”
  “Well；　wait　till　he　repeats　his　offer。　　I　think　he　may　do　it；　now　that　he　knows—something　I　told　him。　　I　don’t　for　a　moment　dispute　that　it　is　the　most　proper　thing　for　you　to　marry　him。　　Much　as　I　have　objected　to　him　in　bygone　days；　I　agree　with　you　now；　you　may　be　sure。　　It　is　the　only　way　out　of　a　false　position；　and　a　very　galling　one。”
  “What　did　you　tell　him？”
  “That　he　was　standing　in　the　way　of　another　lover　of　yours。”
  “Aunt；”　said　Thomasin；　with　round　eyes；　“what　DO　you　mean？”
  “Don’t　be　alarmed；　it　was　my　duty。　　I　can　say　no　more　about　it　now；　but　when　it　is　over　I　wil