Mrs。　Yeobright　turned　in　pained　surprise。　　“I　thought　something　was　amiss；　because　of　the　boxes。　　I　wonder　you　did　not　tell　me　sooner。”
  “I　ought　to　have　done　it。　　But　I　have　been　in　doubt　whether　you　would　be　pleased　with　my　plan。　　I　was　not　quite　clear　on　a　few　points　myself。　　I　am　going　to　take　an　entirely　new　course。”
  “I　am　astonished；　Clym。　　How　can　you　want　to　do　better　than　you’ve　been　doing？”
  “Very　easily。　　But　I　shall　not　do　better　in　the　way　you　mean；　I　suppose　it　will　be　called　doing　worse。　　But　I　hate　that　business　of　mine；　and　I　want　to　do　some　worthy　thing　before　I　die。　　As　a　schoolmaster　I　think　to　do　it—a　school…master　to　the　poor　and　ignorant；　to　teach　them　what　nobody　else　will。”
  “After　all　the　trouble　that　has　been　taken　to　give　you　a　start；　and　when　there　is　nothing　to　do　but　to　keep　straight　on　towards　affluence；　you　say　you　will　be　a　poor　man’s　schoolmaster。　　Your　fancies　will　be　your　ruin；　Clym。”
  Mrs。　Yeobright　spoke　calmly；　but　the　force　of　feeling　behind　the　words　was　but　too　apparent　to　one　who　knew　her　as　well　as　her　son　did。　　He　did　not　answer。　　There　was　in　his　face　that　hopelessness　of　being　understood　which　es　when　the　objector　is　constitutionally　beyond　the　reach　of　a　logic　that；　even　under　favouring　conditions；　is　almost　too　coarse　a　vehicle　for　the　subtlety　of　the　argument。
  No　more　was　said　on　the　subject　till　the　end　of　dinner。　　His　mother　then　began；　as　if　there　had　been　no　interval　since　the　morning。　　“It　disturbs　me；　Clym；　to　find　that　you　have　e　home　with　such　thoughts　as　those。　　I　hadn’t　the　least　idea　that　you　meant　to　go　backward　in　the　world　by　your　own　free　choice。　　Of　course；　I　have　always　supposed　you　were　going　to　push　straight　on；　as　other　men　do—all　who　deserve　the　name—when　they　have　been　put　in　a　good　way　of　doing　well。”
  “I　cannot　help　it；”　said　Clym；　in　a　troubled　tone。　　“Mother；　I　hate　the　flashy　business。　　Talk　about　men　who　deserve　the　name；　can　any　man　deserving　the　name　waste　his　time　in　that　effeminate　way；　when　he　sees　half　the　world　going　to　ruin　for　want　of　somebody　to　buckle　to　and　teach　them　how　to　breast　the　misery　they　are　born　to？　　I　get　up　every　morning　and　see　the　whole　creation　groaning　and　travailing　in　pain；　as　St。　Paul　says；　and　yet　there　am　I；　trafficking　in　glittering　splendours　with　wealthy　women　and　titled　libertines；　and　pandering　to　the　meanest　vanities—I；　who　have　health　and　strength　enough　for　anything。　　I　have　been　troubled　in　my　mind　about　it　all　the　year；　and　the　end　is　that　I　cannot　do　it　any　more。”
  “Why　can’t　you　do　it　as　well　as　others？”
  “I　don’t　know；　except　that　there　are　many　things　other　people　care　for　which　I　don’t；　and　that’s　partly　why　I　think　I　ought　to　do　this。　　For　one　thing；　my　body　does　not　require　much　of　me。　　I　cannot　enjoy　delicacies；　good　things　are　wasted　upon　me。　　Well；　I　ought　to　turn　that　defect　to　advantage；　and　by　being　able　to　do　without　what　other　people　require　I　can　spend　what　such　things　cost　upon　anybody　else。”
  Now；　Yeobright；　having　inherited　some　of　these　very　instincts　from　the　woman　before　him；　could　not　fail　to　awaken　a　reciprocity　in　her　through　her　feelings；　if　not　by　arguments；　disguise　it　as　she　might　for　his　good。　　She　spoke　with　less　assurance。　　“And　yet　you　might　have　been　a　wealthy　man　if　you　had　only　persevered。　　Manager　to　that　large　diamond　establishment—what　better　can　a　man　wish　for？　　What　a　post　of　trust　and　respect！　　I　suppose　you　will　be　like　your　father；　like　him；　you　are　getting　weary　of　doing　well。”
  “No；”　said　her　son；　“I　am　not　weary　of　that；　though　I　am　weary　of　what　you　mean　by　it。　　Mother；　what　is　doing　well？”
  Mrs。　Yeobright　was　far　too　thoughtful　a　woman　to　be　content　with　ready　definitions；　and；　like　the　“What　is　wisdom？”　of　Plato’s　Socrates；　and　the　“What　is　truth？”　of　Pontius　Pilate；　Yeobright’s　burning　question　received　no　answer。
  The　silence　was　broken　by　the　clash　of　the　garden　gate；　a　tap　at　the　door；　and　its　opening。　　Christian　Cantle　appeared　in　the　room　in　his　Sunday　clothes。
  It　was　the　custom　on　Egdon　to　begin　the　preface　to　a　story　before　absolutely　entering　the　house；　so　as　to　be　well　in　for　the　body　of　the　narrative　by　the　time　visitor　and　visited　stood　face　to　face。　　Christian　had　been　saying　to　them　while　the　door　was　leaving　its　latch；　“To　think　that　I；　who　go　from　home　but　once　in　a　while；　and　hardly　then；　should　have　been　there　this　morning！”
  “’Tis　news　you　have　brought　us；　then；　Christian？”　said　Mrs。　Yeobright。
  “Ay；　sure；　about　a　witch；　and　ye　must　overlook　my　time　o’　day；　for；　says　I；　‘I　must　go　and　tell　‘em；　though　they　won’t　have　half　done　dinner。’　I　assure　ye　it　made　me　shake　like　a　driven　leaf。　　Do　ye　think　any　harm　will　e　o’t？”
  “Well—what？”
  “This　morning　at　church　we　was　all　standing　up；　and　the　pa’son　said；　‘Let　us　pray。’　‘Well；’　thinks　I；　‘one　may　as　well　kneel　as　stand’；　so　down　I　went；　and；　more　than　that；　all　the　rest　were　as　willing　to　oblige　the　man　as　I。　We　hadn’t　been　hard　at　it　for　more　than　a　minute　when　a　most　terrible　screech　sounded　through　church；　as　if　somebody　had　just　gied　up　their　heart’s　blood。　　All　the　folk　jumped　up　and　then　we　found　that　Susan　Nunsuch　had　pricked　Miss　Vye　with　a　long　stocking…needle；　as　she　had　threatened　to　do　as　soon　as　ever　she　could　get　the　young　lady　to　church；　where　she　don’t　e　very　often。　　She’ve　waited　for　this　chance　for　weeks；　so　as　to　draw　her　blood　and　put　an　end　to　the　bewitching　of　Susan’s　children　that　has　been　carried　on　so　long。　　Sue　followed　her　into　church；　sat　next　to　her；　and　as　soon　as　she　could　find　a　chance　in　went　the　stocking…needle　into　my　lady’s　arm。”
  “Good　heaven；　how　horrid！”　said　Mrs。　Yeobright。
  “Sue　pricked　her　that　deep　that　the　maid　fainted　away；　and　as　I　was　afeard　there　might　be　some　tumult　among　us；　I　got　behind　the　bass　viol　and　didn’t　see　no　more。　　But　they　carried　her　out　into　the　air；　‘tis　said；　but　when　they　looked　round　for　Sue　she　was　gone。　　What　a　scream　that　girl　gied；　poor　thing！　There　were　the　pa’son　in　his　surplice　holding　up　his　hand　and　saying；　‘Sit　down；　my　good　people；　sit　down！’　But　the　deuce　a　bit　would　they　sit　down。　　O；　and　what　d’ye　think　I　found　out；　Mrs。　Yeobright？　　The　pa’son　wears　a　suit　of　clothes　under　his　surplice！I　could　see　his　black　sleeves　when　he　held　up　his　arm。”
  “’Tis　a　cruel　thing；”　said　Yeobright。
  “Yes；”　said　his　mother。
  “The　nation　ought　to　look　into　it；”　said　Christian。
  “Here’s　Humphrey　ing；　I　think。”
  In　came　Humphrey。　　“Well；　have　ye　heard　the　news？　　But　I　see　you　have。　　‘Tis　a　very　strange　thing　that　whenever　one　of　Egdon　folk　goes　to　church　some　rum　job　or　other　is　sure　to　be　doing。　　The　last　time　one　of　us　was　there　was　when　neighbour　Fairway　went　in　the　fall；　and　that　was　the　day　you　forbad　the　banns；　Mrs。　Yeobright。”
  “Has　this　cruelly　treated　girl　been　able　to　walk　home？”　said　Clym。
  “They　say　she　got　better；　and　went　home　very　well。
  And　now　I’ve　told　it　I　must　be　moving　homeward　myself。”
  “And　I；”　said　Humphrey。　　“Truly　now　we　shall　see　if　there’s　anything　in　what　folks　say　about　her。”
  When　they　were　gone　into　the　heath　again　Yeobright　said　quietly　to　his　mother；　“Do　you　think　I　have　turned　teacher　too　soon？”
  “It　is　right　that　there　should　be　schoolmasters；　and　missionaries；　and　all　such　men；”　she　replied。　　“But　it　is　right；　too；　that　I　should　try　to　lift　you　out　of　this　life　into　something　richer；　and　that　you　should　not　e　back　again；　and　be　as　if　I　had　not　tried　at　all。”
  Later　in　the　day　Sam；　the　turf…cutter；　entered。　　“I’ve　e　a…borrowing；　Mrs。　Yeobright。　　I　suppose　you　have　heard　what’s　been　happening　to　the　beauty　on　the　hill？”
  “Yes；　Sam：　half　a　dozen　have　been　telling　us。”
  “Beauty？”　said　Clym。
  “Yes；　tolerably　well…favoured；”　Sam　replied。　　“Lord！　all　the　country　owns　that　‘tis　one　of　the　strangest　things　in　the　world　that　such　a　woman　should　have　e　to　live　up　there。”
  “Dark　or　fair？”
  “Now；　though　I’ve　seen　her　twenty　times；　that’s　a　thing　I　cannot　call　to　mind。”
  “Darker　than　Tamsin；”　murmured　Mrs。　Yeobright。
  “A　woman　who　seems　to　care　for　nothing　at　all；　as　you　may　say。”
  “She　is　melancholy；　then？”　inquired　Clym。
  “She　mopes　about　by　herself；　and　don’t　mix　in　with　the　people。”
  “Is　she　a　young　lady　inclined　for　adventures？”
  “Not　to　my　knowledge。”
  “Doesn’t　join　in　with　the　lads　in　their　games；　to　get　some　sort　of　excitement　in　this　lonely　place？”
  “No。”
  “Mumming；　for　instance？”
  “No。　Her　notions　be　different。　　I　should　rather　say　her　thoughts　were　far　away　from　here；　with　lords　and　ladies　she’ll　never　know；　and　mansions　she’ll　never　see　again。”
  Observing　that　Clym　appeared　singularly　interested　Mrs。　Yeobright　said　rather　uneasily　to　Sam；　“You　see　more　in　her　than　most　of　us　do。　　Miss　Vye　is　to　my　mind　too　idle　to　be　charming。　　I　have　never　heard　that　she　is　of　any　use　to　herself　or　to　other　people。　　Good　girls　don’t　get　treated　as　witches　even　on　Egdon。”
  “Nonsense—that　proves　nothing　either　way；”　said　Yeobright。
  “Well；　of　course　I　don’t　understand　such　niceties；”　said　Sam；　withdrawing　from　a　possibly　unpleasant　argument；
  “and　what　she　is　we　must　wait　for　time　to　tell　us。　　The　business　that　I　have　really　called　about　is　this；　to