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Gabriel
had
reached
a
pitch
of
existence
he
never
could
have
anticipated
a
short
time
before
.
He
liked
saying
"
Bathsheba
"
as
a
private
enjoyment
instead
of
whistling
;
turned
over
his
taste
to
black
hair
,
though
he
had
sworn
by
brown
ever
since
he
was
a
boy
,
isolated
himself
till
the
space
he
filled
in
the
public
eye
was
contemptibly
small
.
Love
is
a
possible
strength
in
an
actual
weakness
.
Marriage
transforms
a
distraction
into
a
support
,
the
power
of
which
should
be
,
and
happily
often
is
,
in
direct
proportion
to
the
degree
of
imbecility
it
supplants
.
Oak
began
now
to
see
light
in
this
direction
,
and
said
to
himself
,
"
I
’
ll
make
her
my
wife
,
or
upon
my
soul
I
shall
be
good
for
nothing
!
"
All
this
while
he
was
perplexing
himself
about
an
errand
on
which
he
might
consistently
visit
the
cottage
of
Bathsheba
’
s
aunt
.
He
found
his
opportunity
in
the
death
of
a
ewe
,
mother
of
a
living
lamb
.
On
a
day
which
had
a
summer
face
and
a
winter
constitution
—
a
fine
January
morning
,
when
there
was
just
enough
blue
sky
visible
to
make
cheerfully
-
disposed
people
wish
for
more
,
and
an
occasional
gleam
of
silvery
sunshine
,
Oak
put
the
lamb
into
a
respectable
Sunday
basket
,
and
stalked
across
the
fields
to
the
house
of
Mrs
.
Hurst
,
the
aunt
—
George
,
the
dog
walking
behind
,
with
a
countenance
of
great
concern
at
the
serious
turn
pastoral
affairs
seemed
to
be
taking
.
Gabriel
had
watched
the
blue
wood
-
smoke
curling
from
the
chimney
with
strange
meditation
.
At
evening
he
had
fancifully
traced
it
down
the
chimney
to
the
spot
of
its
origin
—
seen
the
hearth
and
Bathsheba
beside
it
—
beside
it
in
her
out
-
door
dress
;
for
the
clothes
she
had
worn
on
the
hill
were
by
association
equally
with
her
person
included
in
the
compass
of
his
affection
;
they
seemed
at
this
early
time
of
his
love
a
necessary
ingredient
of
the
sweet
mixture
called
Bathsheba
Everdene
.
He
had
made
a
toilet
of
a
nicely
-
adjusted
kind
—
of
a
nature
between
the
carefully
neat
and
the
carelessly
ornate
—
of
a
degree
between
fine
-
market
-
day
and
wet
-
Sunday
selection
.
He
thoroughly
cleaned
his
silver
watch
-
chain
with
whiting
,
put
new
lacing
straps
to
his
boots
,
looked
to
the
brass
eyelet
-
holes
,
went
to
the
inmost
heart
of
the
plantation
for
a
new
walking
-
stick
,
and
trimmed
it
vigorously
on
his
way
back
;
took
a
new
handkerchief
from
the
bottom
of
his
clothes
-
box
,
put
on
the
light
waistcoat
patterned
all
over
with
sprigs
of
an
elegant
flower
uniting
the
beauties
of
both
rose
and
lily
without
the
defects
of
either
,
and
used
all
the
hair
-
oil
he
possessed
upon
his
usually
dry
,
sandy
,
and
inextricably
curly
hair
,
till
he
had
deepened
it
to
a
splendidly
novel
colour
,
between
that
of
guano
and
Roman
cement
,
making
it
stick
to
his
head
like
mace
round
a
nutmeg
,
or
wet
seaweed
round
a
boulder
after
the
ebb
.
Nothing
disturbed
the
stillness
of
the
cottage
save
the
chatter
of
a
knot
of
sparrows
on
the
eaves
;
one
might
fancy
scandal
and
rumour
to
be
no
less
the
staple
topic
of
these
little
coteries
on
roofs
than
of
those
under
them
.
It
seemed
that
the
omen
was
an
unpropitious
one
,
for
,
as
the
rather
untoward
commencement
of
Oak
’
s
overtures
,
just
as
he
arrived
by
the
garden
gate
,
he
saw
a
cat
inside
,
going
into
various
arched
shapes
and
fiendish
convulsions
at
the
sight
of
his
dog
George
.
The
dog
took
no
notice
,
for
he
had
arrived
at
an
age
at
which
all
superfluous
barking
was
cynically
avoided
as
a
waste
of
breath
—
in
fact
,
he
never
barked
even
at
the
sheep
except
to
order
,
when
it
was
done
with
an
absolutely
neutral
countenance
,
as
a
sort
of
Commination
-
service
,
which
,
though
offensive
,
had
to
be
gone
through
once
now
and
then
to
frighten
the
flock
for
their
own
good
.
A
voice
came
from
behind
some
laurel
-
bushes
into
which
the
cat
had
run
:
"
Poor
dear
!
Did
a
nasty
brute
of
a
dog
want
to
kill
it
;
—
did
he
,
poor
dear
!
"
