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The
next
morning
she
rose
earlier
than
usual
,
and
had
the
horse
saddled
for
her
ride
round
the
farm
in
the
customary
way
.
When
she
came
in
at
half
-
past
eight
—
their
usual
hour
for
breakfasting
—
she
was
informed
that
her
husband
had
risen
,
taken
his
breakfast
,
and
driven
off
to
Casterbridge
with
the
gig
and
Poppet
.
After
breakfast
she
was
cool
and
collected
—
quite
herself
in
fact
—
and
she
rambled
to
the
gate
,
intending
to
walk
to
another
quarter
of
the
farm
,
which
she
still
personally
superintended
as
well
as
her
duties
in
the
house
would
permit
,
continually
,
however
,
finding
herself
preceded
in
forethought
by
Gabriel
Oak
,
for
whom
she
began
to
entertain
the
genuine
friendship
of
a
sister
.
Of
course
,
she
sometimes
thought
of
him
in
the
light
of
an
old
lover
,
and
had
momentary
imaginings
of
what
life
with
him
as
a
husband
would
have
been
like
;
also
of
life
with
Boldwood
under
the
same
conditions
.
But
Bathsheba
,
though
she
could
feel
,
was
not
much
given
to
futile
dreaming
,
and
her
musings
under
this
head
were
short
and
entirely
confined
to
the
times
when
Troy
’
s
neglect
was
more
than
ordinarily
evident
.
She
saw
coming
up
the
road
a
man
like
Mr
.
Boldwood
.
It
was
Mr
.
Boldwood
.
Bathsheba
blushed
painfully
,
and
watched
.
The
farmer
stopped
when
still
a
long
way
off
,
and
held
up
his
hand
to
Gabriel
Oak
,
who
was
in
a
footpath
across
the
field
.
The
two
men
then
approached
each
other
and
seemed
to
engage
in
earnest
conversation
.
Thus
they
continued
for
a
long
time
.
Joseph
Poorgrass
now
passed
near
them
,
wheeling
a
barrow
of
apples
up
the
hill
to
Bathsheba
’
s
residence
.
Boldwood
and
Gabriel
called
to
him
,
spoke
to
him
for
a
few
minutes
,
and
then
all
three
parted
,
Joseph
immediately
coming
up
the
hill
with
his
barrow
.
Bathsheba
,
who
had
seen
this
pantomime
with
some
surprise
,
experienced
great
relief
when
Boldwood
turned
back
again
.
"
Well
,
what
’
s
the
message
,
Joseph
?
"
she
said
.
He
set
down
his
barrow
,
and
,
putting
upon
himself
the
refined
aspect
that
a
conversation
with
a
lady
required
,
spoke
to
Bathsheba
over
the
gate
.
"
You
’
ll
never
see
Fanny
Robin
no
more
—
use
nor
principal
—
ma
’
am
.
"
"
Why
?
"
"
Because
she
’
s
dead
in
the
Union
.
"
