“You　mistake　me；”　she　answered；　reviving　at　his　reproach。
  “I　am　only　thinking。”
  “What　of？”
  “Partly　of　that　moth　whose　skeleton　is　getting　burnt　up　in　the　wick　of　the　candle；”　she　said　slowly。　　“But　you　know　I　always　take　an　interest　in　what　you　say。”
  “Very　well；　dear。　　Then　I　think　I　must　go　and　call　upon　her。”。。。He　went　on　with　tender　feeling：　“It　is　a　thing　I　am　not　at　all　too　proud　to　do；　and　only　a　fear　that　I　might　irritate　her　has　kept　me　away　so　long。　　But　I　must　do　something。　　It　is　wrong　in　me　to　allow　this　sort　of　thing　to　go　on。”
  “What　have　you　to　blame　yourself　about？”
  “She　is　getting　old；　and　her　life　is　lonely；　and　I　am　her　only　son。”
  “She　has　Thomasin。”
  “Thomasin　is　not　her　daughter；　and　if　she　were　that　would　not　excuse　me。　　But　this　is　beside　the　point。　　I　have　made　up　my　mind　to　go　to　her；　and　all　I　wish　to　ask　you　is　whether　you　will　do　your　best　to　help　me—that　is；　forget　the　past；　and　if　she　shows　her　willingness　to　be　reconciled；　meet　her　halfway　by　weling　her　to　our　house；　or　by　accepting　a　wele　to　hers？”
  At　first　Eustacia　closed　her　lips　as　if　she　would　rather　do　anything　on　the　whole　globe　than　what　he　suggested。　　But　the　lines　of　her　mouth　softened　with　thought；　though　not　so　far　as　they　might　have　softened；　and　she　said；　“I　will　put　nothing　in　your　way；　but　after　what　has　passed　it；　is　asking　too　much　that　I　go　and　make　advances。”
  “You　never　distinctly　told　me　what　did　pass　between　you。”
  “I　could　not　do　it　then；　nor　can　I　now。　　Sometimes　more　bitterness　is　sown　in　five　minutes　than　can　be　got　rid　of　in　a　whole　life；　and　that　may　be　the　case　here。”
  She　paused　a　few　moments；　and　added；　“If　you　had　never
  returned　to　your　native　place；　Clym；　what　a　blessing　it
  would　have　been　for　you！。。。It　has　altered　the　destinies　of“
  “Three　people。”
  “Five；”　Eustacia　thought；　but　she　kept　that　in。
  5　… The　Journey　across　the　Heath
  Thursday；　the　thirty…first　of　August；　was　one　of　a　series　of　days　during　which　snug　houses　were　stifling；　and　when　cool　draughts　were　treats；　when　cracks　appeared　in　clayey　gardens；　and　were　called　“earthquakes”　by　apprehensive　children；　when　loose　spokes　were　discovered　in　the　wheels　of　carts　and　carriages；　and　when　stinging　insects　haunted　the　air；　the　earth；　and　every　drop　of　water　that　was　to　be　found。
  In　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　garden　large…leaved　plants　of　a　tender　kind　flagged　by　ten　o’clock　in　the　morning；　rhubarb　bent　downward　at　eleven；　and　even　stiff　cabbages　were　limp　by　noon。
  It　was　about　eleven　o’clock　on　this　day　that　Mrs。　Yeobright　started　across　the　heath　towards　her　son’s　house；　to　do　her　best　in　getting　reconciled　with　him　and　Eustacia；　in　conformity　with　her　words　to　the　reddleman。　　She　had　hoped　to　be　well　advanced　in　her　walk　before　the　heat　of　the　day　was　at　its　highest；　but　after　setting　out　she　found　that　this　was　not　to　be　done。　　The　sun　had　branded　the　whole　heath　with　its　mark；　even　the　purple　heath…flowers　having　put　on　a　brownness　under　the　dry　blazes　of　the　few　preceding　days。　　Every　valley　was　filled　with　air　like　that　of　a　kiln；　and　the　clean　quartz　sand　of　the　winter　water…courses；　which　formed　summer　paths；　had　undergone　a　species　of　incineration　since　the　drought　had　set　in。
  In　cool；　fresh　weather　Mrs。　Yeobright　would　have　found　no　inconvenience　in　walking　to　Alderworth；　but　the　present　torrid　attack　made　the　journey　a　heavy　undertaking　for　a　woman　past　middle　age；　and　at　the　end　of　the　third　mile　she　wished　that　she　had　hired　Fairway　to　drive　her　a　portion　at　least　of　the　distance。　　But　from　the　point　at　which　she　had　arrived　it　was　as　easy　to　reach　Clym’s　house　as　to　get　home　again。　　So　she　went　on；　the　air　around　her　pulsating　silently；　and　oppressing　the　earth　with　lassitude。　　She　looked　at　the　sky　overhead；　and　saw　that　the　sapphirine　hue　of　the　zenith　in　spring　and　early　summer　had　been　replaced　by　a　metallic　violet。
  Occasionally　she　came　to　a　spot　where　independent　worlds　of　ephemerons　were　passing　their　time　in　mad　carousal；　some　in　the　air；　some　on　the　hot　ground　and　vegetation；　some　in　the　tepid　and　stringy　water　of　a　nearly　dried　pool。　　All　the　shallower　ponds　had　decreased　to　a　vaporous　mud　amid　which　the　maggoty　shapes　of　innumerable　obscure　creatures　could　be　indistinctly　seen；　heaving　and　wallowing　with　enjoyment。　　Being　a　woman　not　disinclined　to　philosophize　she　sometimes　sat　down　under　her　umbrella　to　rest　and　to　watch　their　happiness；　for　a　certain　hopefulness　as　to　the　result　of　her　visit　gave　ease　to　her　mind；　and　between　important　thoughts　left　it　free　to　dwell　on　any　infinitesimal　matter　which　caught　her　eyes。
  Mrs。　Yeobright　had　never　before　been　to　her　son’s　house；　and　its　exact　position　was　unknown　to　her。　　She　tried　one　ascending　path　and　another；　and　found　that　they　led　her　astray。　　Retracing　her　steps；　she　came　again　to　an　open　level；　where　she　perceived　at　a　distance　a　man　at　work。　　She　went　towards　him　and　inquired　the　way。
  The　labourer　pointed　out　the　direction；　and　added；　“Do　you　see　that　furze…cutter；　ma’am；　going　up　that　footpath　yond？”
  Mrs。　Yeobright　strained　her　eyes；　and　at　last　said　that　she　did　perceive　him。
  “Well；　if　you　follow　him　you　can　make　no　mistake。
  He’s　going　to　the　same　place；　ma’am。”
  She　followed　the　figure　indicated。　　He　appeared　of　a　russet　hue；　not　more　distinguishable　from　the　scene　around　him　than　the　green　caterpillar　from　the　leaf　it　feeds　on。　　His　progress　when　actually　walking　was　more　rapid　than　Mrs。　Yeobright’s；　but　she　was　enabled　to　keep　at　an　equable　distance　from　him　by　his　habit　of　stopping　whenever　he　came　to　a　brake　of　brambles；　where　he　paused　awhile。　　On　ing　in　her　turn　to　each　of　these　spots　she　found　half　a　dozen　long　limp　brambles　which　he　had　cut　from　the　bush　during　his　halt　and　laid　out　straight　beside　the　path。　　They　were　evidently　intended　for　furze…faggot　bonds　which　he　meant　to　collect　on　his　return。
  The　silent　being　who　thus　occupied　himself　seemed　to　be　of　no　more　account　in　life　than　an　insect。　　He　appeared　as　a　mere　parasite　of　the　heath；　fretting　its　surface　in　his　daily　labour　as　a　moth　frets　a　garment；　entirely　engrossed　with　its　products；　having　no　knowledge　of　anything　in　the　world　but　fern；　furze；　heath；　lichens；　and　moss。
  The　furze…cutter　was　so　absorbed　in　the　business　of　his　journey　that　he　never　turned　his　head；　and　his　leather…legged　and　gauntleted　form　at　length　became　to　her　as　nothing　more　than　a　moving　handpost　to　show　her　the　way。　　Suddenly　she　was　attracted　to　his　individuality　by　observing　peculiarities　in　his　walk。　　It　was　a　gait　she　had　seen　somewhere　before；　and　the　gait　revealed　the　man　to　her；　as　the　gait　of　Ahimaaz　in　the　distant　plain　made　him　known　to　the　watchman　of　the　king。　　“His　walk　is　exactly　as　my　husband’s　used　to　be；”　she　said；　and　then　the　thought　burst　upon　her　that　the　furze…cutter　was　her　son。
  She　was　scarcely　able　to　familiarize　herself　with　this　strange　reality。　　She　had　been　told　that　Clym　was　in　the　habit　of　cutting　furze；　but　she　had　supposed　that　he　occupied　himself　with　the　labour　only　at　odd　times；　by　way　of　useful　pastime；　yet　she　now　beheld　him　as　a　furze…cutter　and　nothing　more—wearing　the　regulation　dress　of　the　craft；　and　thinking　the　regulation　thoughts；　to　judge　by　his　motions。　　Planning　a　dozen　hasty　schemes　for　at　once　preserving　him　and　Eustacia　from　this　mode　of　life；　she　throbbingly　followed　the　way；　and　saw　him　enter　his　own　door。
  At　one　side　of　Clym’s　house　was　a　knoll；　and　on　the　top　of　the　knoll　a　clump　of　fir　trees　so　highly　thrust　up　into　the　sky　that　their　foliage　from　a　distance　appeared　as　a　black　spot　in　the　air　above　the　crown　of　the　hill。　　On　reaching　this　place　Mrs。　Yeobright　felt　distressingly　agitated；　weary；　and　unwell。　　She　ascended；　and　sat　down　under　their　shade　to　recover　herself；　and　to　consider　how　best　to　break　the　ground　with　Eustacia；　so　as　not　to　irritate　a　woman　underneath　whose　apparent　indolence　lurked　passions　even　stronger　and　more　active　than　her　own。
  The　trees　beneath　which　she　sat　were　singularly　battered；　rude；　and　wild；　and　for　a　few　minutes　Mrs。　Yeobright　dismissed　thoughts　of　her　own　storm…broken　and　exhausted　state　to　contemplate　theirs。　　Not　a　bough　in　the　nine　trees　which　posed　the　group　but　was　splintered；　lopped；　and　distorted　by　the　fierce　weather　that　there　held　them　at　its　mercy　whenever　it　prevailed。　　Some　were　blasted　and　split　as　if　by　lightning；　black　stains　as　from　fire　marking　their　sides；　while　the　ground　at　their　feet　was　strewn　with　dead　fir…needles　and　heaps　of　cones　blown　down　in　the　gales　of　past　years。　　The　place　was　called　the　Devil’s　Bellows；　and　it　was　only　necessary　to　e　there　on　a　March　or　November　night　to　discover　the　forcible　reasons　for　that　name。　　On　the　present　heated　afternoon；　when　no　perceptible　wind　was　blowing；　the　trees　kept　up　a　perpetual　moan　which　one　could　hardly　believe　to　be　caused　by　the　air。
  Here　she　sat　for　twenty　minutes　or　more　ere　she　could　summon　resolution　to　go　down　to　the　door；　her　courage　being　lowered　to　zero　by　her　physical　lassitude。　　To　any　other　person　than　a　mother　it　might　have　seemed　a　little　humiliating　that　she；　the　elder　of　the　two　women；　should　be　the　first　to　make　advances。　　But　Mrs。　Yeobright　had　well　considered　all　that；　a