还乡The Return Of The Native-第41部分

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　　The　wet　young　beeches　were　undergoing　amputations；　bruises；　cripplings；　and　harsh　lacerations；　from　which　the　wasting　sap　would　bleed　for　many　a　day　to　e；　and　which　would　leave　scars　visible　till　the　day　of　their　burning。　　Each　stem　was　wrenched　at　the　root；　where　it　moved　like　a　bone　in　its　socket；　and　at　every　onset　of　the　gale　convulsive　sounds　came　from　the　branches；　as　if　pain　were　felt。　　In　a　neighbouring　brake　a　finch　was　trying　to　sing；　but　the　wind　blew　under　his　feathers　till　they　stood　on　end；　twisted　round　his　little　tail；　and　made　him　give　up　his　song。　
Yet　a　few　yards　to　Yeobright’s　left；　on　the　open　heath；　how　ineffectively　gnashed　the　storm！　Those　gusts　which　tore　the　trees　merely　waved　the　furze　and　heather　in　a　light　caress。　　Egdon　was　made　for　such　times　as　these。　
Yeobright　reached　the　empty　house　about　midday。　　It　was　almost　as　lonely　as　that　of　Eustacia’s　grandfather；　but　the　fact　that　it　stood　near　a　heath　was　disguised　by　a　belt　of　firs　which　almost　enclosed　the　premises。　　He　journeyed　on　about　a　mile　further　to　the　village　in　which　the　owner　lived；　and；　returning　with　him　to　the　house；　arrangements　were　pleted；　and　the　man　undertook　that　one　room　at　least　should　be　ready　for　occupation　the　next　day。　　Clym’s　intention　was　to　live　there　alone　until　Eustacia　should　join　him　on　their　wedding…day。
Then　he　turned　to　pursue　his　way　homeward　through　the　drizzle　that　had　so　greatly　transformed　the　scene。　　The　ferns；　among　which　he　had　lain　in　fort　yesterday；　were　dripping　moisture　from　every　frond；　wetting　his　legs　through　as　he　brushed　past；　and　the　fur　of　the　rabbits　leaping　before　him　was　clotted　into　dark　locks　by　the　same　watery　surrounding。　
He　reached　home　damp　and　weary　enough　after　his　ten…mile　walk。　　It　had　hardly　been　a　propitious　beginning；　but　he　had　chosen　his　course；　and　would　show　no　swerving。　　The　evening　and　the　following　morning　were　spent　in　concluding　arrangements　for　his　departure。　　To　stay　at　home　a　minute　longer　than　necessary　after　having　once　e　to　his　determination　would　be；　he　felt；　only　to　give　new　pain　to　his　mother　by　some　word；　look；　or　deed。
He　had　hired　a　conveyance　and　sent　off　his　goods　by　two　o’clock　that　day。　　The　next　step　was　to　get　some　furniture；　which；　after　serving　for　temporary　use　in　the　cottage；　would　be　available　for　the　house　at　Budmouth　when　increased　by　goods　of　a　better　description。　　A　mart　extensive　enough　for　the　purpose　existed　at　Anglebury；　some　miles　beyond　the　spot　chosen　for　his　residence；　and　there　he　resolved　to　pass　the　ing　night。　
It　now　only　remained　to　wish　his　mother　good…bye。　She　was　sitting　by　the　window　as　usual　when　he　came　downstairs。　
“Mother；　I　am　going　to　leave　you；”　he　said；　holding　out　his　hand。　
“I　thought　you　were；　by　your　packing；”　replied　Mrs。　Yeobright　in　a　voice　from　which　every　particle　of　emotion　was　painfully　excluded。
“And　you　will　part　friends　with　me？”
“Certainly；　Clym。”
“I　am　going　to　be　married　on　the　twenty…fifth。”
“I　thought　you　were　going　to　be　married。”
“And　then—and　then　you　must　e　and　see　us。　　You　will　understand　me　better　after　that；　and　our　situation　will　not　be　so　wretched　as　it　is　now。”
“I　do　not　think　it　likely　I　shall　e　to　see　you。”
“Then　it　will　not　be　my　fault　or　Eustacia’s；　Mother。　
Good…bye！”
He　kissed　her　cheek；　and　departed　in　great　misery；　which　was　several　hours　in　lessening　itself　to　a　controllable　level。　　The　position　had　been　such　that　nothing　more　could　be　said　without；　in　the　first　place；　breaking　down　a　barrier；　and　that　was　not　to　be　done。　
No　sooner　had　Yeobright　gone　from　his　mother’s　house　than　her　face　changed　its　rigid　aspect　for　one　of　blank　despair。　　After　a　while　she　wept；　and　her　tears　brought　some　relief。　　During　the　rest　of　the　day　she　did　nothing　but　walk　up　and　down　the　garden　path　in　a　state　bordering　on　stupefaction。　　Night　came；　and　with　it　but　little　rest。　　The　next　day；　with　an　instinct　to　do　something　which　should　reduce　prostration　to　mournfulness；　she　went　to　her　son’s　room；　and　with　her　own　hands　arranged　it　in　order；　for　an　imaginary　time　when　he　should　return　again。　　She　gave　some　attention　to　her　flowers；　but　it　was　perfunctorily　bestowed；　for　they　no　longer　charmed　her。　
It　was　a　great　relief　when；　early　in　the　afternoon；　Thomasin　paid　her　an　unexpected　visit。　　This　was　not　the　first　meeting　between　the　relatives　since　Thomasin’s　marriage；　and　past　blunders　having　been　in　a　rough　way　rectified；　they　could　always　greet　each　other　with　pleasure　and　ease。
The　oblique　band　of　sunlight　which　followed　her　through　the　door　became　the　young　wife　well。　　It　illuminated　her　as　her　presence　illuminated　the　heath。　　In　her　movements；　in　her　gaze；　she　reminded　the　beholder　of　the　feathered　creatures　who　lived　around　her　home。　　All　similes　and　allegories　concerning　her　began　and　ended　with　birds。　　There　was　as　much　variety　in　her　motions　as　in　their　flight。　　When　she　was　musing　she　was　a　kestrel；　which　hangs　in　the　air　by　an　invisible　motion　of　its　wings。　　When　she　was　in　a　high　wind　her　light　body　was　blown　against　trees　and　banks　like　a　heron’s。　When　she　was　frightened　she　darted　noiselessly　like　a　kingfisher。　　When　she　was　serene　she　skimmed　like　a　swallow；　and　that　is　how　she　was　moving　now。　
“You　are　looking　very　blithe；　upon　my　word；　Tamsie；”　said　Mrs。　Yeobright；　with　a　sad　smile。　　“How　is　Damon？”
“He　is　very　well。”
“Is　he　kind　to　you；　Thomasin？”　And　Mrs。　Yeobright　observed　her　narrowly。　
“Pretty　fairly。”
“Is　that　honestly　said？”
“Yes；　Aunt。　　I　would　tell　you　if　he　were　unkind。”　She　added；　blushing；　and　with　hesitation；　“He—I　don’t　know　if　I　ought　to　plain　to　you　about　this；　but　I　am　not　quite　sure　what　to　do。　　I　want　some　money；　you　know；　Aunt—some　to　buy　little　things　for　myself—and　he　doesn’t　give　me　any。　　I　don’t　like　to　ask　him；　and　yet；　perhaps；　he　doesn’t　give　it　me　because　he　doesn’t　know。　　Ought　I　to　mention　it　to　him；　Aunt？”
“Of　course　you　ought。　　Have　you　never　said　a　word　on　the　matter？”
“You　see；　I　had　some　of　my　own；”　said　Thomasin　evasively；　“and　I　have　not　wanted　any　of　his　until　lately。　　I　did　just　say　something　about　it　last　week；　but　he　seems—not　to　remember。”
“He　must　be　made　to　remember。　　You　are　aware　that　I　have　a　little　box　full　of　spade…guineas；　which　your　uncle　put　into　my　hands　to　divide　between　yourself　and　Clym　whenever　I　chose。　　Perhaps　the　time　has　e　when　it　should　be　done。　　They　can　be　turned　into　sovereigns　at　any　moment。”
“I　think　I　should　like　to　have　my　share—that　is；　if　you　don’t　mind。”
“You　shall；　if　necessary。　　But　it　is　only　proper　that　you　should　first　tell　your　husband　distinctly　that　you　are　without　any；　and　see　what　he　will　do。”
“Very　well；　I　will。。。。Aunt；　I　have　heard　about　Clym。　　I　know　you　are　in　trouble　about　him；　and　that’s　why　I　have　e。”
Mrs。　Yeobright　turned　away；　and　her　features　worked　in　her　attempt　to　conceal　her　feelings。　　Then　she　ceased　to　make　any　attempt；　and　said；　weeping；　“O　Thomasin；　do　you　think　he　hates　me？　　How　can　he　bear　to　grieve　me　so；　when　I　have　lived　only　for　him　through　all　these　years？”
“Hate　you—no；”　said　Thomasin　soothingly。　　“It　is　only　that　he　loves　her　too　well。　　Look　at　it　quietly—do。　　It　is　not　so　very　bad　of　him。　　Do　you　know；　I　thought　it　not　the　worst　match　he　could　have　made。　　Miss　Vye’s　family　is　a　good　one　on　her　mother’s　side；　and　her　father　was　a　romantic　wanderer—a　sort　of　Greek　Ulysses。”
“It　is　no　use；　Thomasin；　it　is　no　use。　　Your　intention　is　good；　but　I　will　not　trouble　you　to　argue。　　I　have　gone　through　the　whole　that　can　be　said　on　either　side　times；　and　many　times。　　Clym　and　I　have　not　parted　in　anger；　we　have　parted　in　a　worse　way。　　It　is　not　a　passionate　quarrel　that　would　have　broken　my　heart；　it　is　the　steady　opposition　and　persistence　in　going　wrong　that　he　has　shown。　　O　Thomasin；　he　was　so　good　as　a　little　boy—so　tender　and　kind！”
“He　was；　I　know。”
“I　did　not　think　one　whom　I　called　mine　would　grow　up　to　treat　me　like　this。　　He　spoke　to　me　as　if　I　opposed　him　to　injure　him。　　As　though　I　could　wish　him　ill！”
“There　are　worse　women　in　the　world　than　Eustacia　Vye。”
“There　are　too　many　better　that’s　the　agony　of　it。　　It　was　she；　Thomasin；　and　she　only；　who　led　your　husband　to　act　as　he　did—I　would　swear　it！”
“No；”　said　Thomasin　eagerly。　　“It　was　before　he　knew　me　that　he　thought　of　her；　and　it　was　nothing　but　a　mere　flirtation。”
“Very　well；　we　will　let　it　be　so。　　There　is　little　use　in　unravelling　that　now。　　Sons　must　be　blind　if　they　will。　　Why　is　it　that　a　woman　can　see　from　a　distance　what　a　man　cannot　see　close？　　Clym　must　do　as　he　will—he　is　nothing　more　to　me。　　And　this　is　maternity—to　give　one’s　best　years　and　best　love　to　ensure　the　fate　of　being　despised！”
“You　are　too　unyielding。　　Think　how　many　mothers　there　are　whose　sons　have　brought　them　to　public　shame　by　real　crimes　before　you　feel　so　deeply　a　case　like　this。”
“Thomasin；　don’t　lecture　me—I　can’t　have　it。　　It　is　the　excess　above　what　we　expect　that　makes　the　force　of　the　blow；　and　that　may　not　be　greater　in　their　case　than　in　mine—they　may　have　foreseen　the　worst。。。。I　am　wrongly　made；　Thomasin；”　she　added；　with　a　mournful　smile。　　“Some　widows　can　guard　against　the　wounds　their　children　give　them　by　turning　their　hearts　to　another　husband　and　beginning　life　again。　　But　I　always　was　a　poor；　weak；　one…idea’d　creature—I　had　not　the　pass　of　heart　nor　the　enterprise　for　that。　　Just　as　forlorn　and　stupefied　as　I　was　when　my　husband’s　spirit　flew　away　I　have　sat　ever　since—never　attempting　to　mend　matters　at　all。　　I　was　paratively　a　young　woman　then；　and　I　might　have　had　another　family　by　this　time；　and　have　been　forted　by　them　for　the　failure　of　this　one　son。”
“It　is　more　noble　in　you　that　you　did　not。”
“The　more　noble；　the　less　wise。”
“Forget　it；　and　be　soothed；　dear　Aunt。　　And　I　shall　not　leave　you　alone　for　long。　　I　shall　e　and　see　you　every　day。”
And　for　one　week　Thomasin　literally　fulfilled　her　word。　　She　endeavoured　to　make　light　of　the　wedding；　and　brought　news　of　the　preparations；　and　that　she　was　invited　to　be　present。　　The　next　week　she　was　rather　unwell；　and　did　not　appear。　　Nothing　had　as　yet　been　done　about　the　guineas；　for　Thomasin　feared　to　address　her　husba