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"
I
don
’
t
believe
it
!
"
she
said
,
excitedly
.
"
And
there
’
s
only
one
name
written
on
the
coffin
-
cover
.
"
"
Nor
I
,
ma
’
am
.
And
a
good
many
others
don
’
t
;
for
we
should
surely
have
been
told
more
about
it
if
it
had
been
true
—
don
’
t
you
think
so
,
ma
’
am
?
"
"
We
might
or
we
might
not
.
"
Bathsheba
turned
and
looked
into
the
fire
,
that
Liddy
might
not
see
her
face
.
Finding
that
her
mistress
was
going
to
say
no
more
,
Liddy
glided
out
,
closed
the
door
softly
,
and
went
to
bed
.
Bathsheba
’
s
face
,
as
she
continued
looking
into
the
fire
that
evening
,
might
have
excited
solicitousness
on
her
account
even
among
those
who
loved
her
least
.
The
sadness
of
Fanny
Robin
’
s
fate
did
not
make
Bathsheba
’
s
glorious
,
although
she
was
the
Esther
to
this
poor
Vashti
,
and
their
fates
might
be
supposed
to
stand
in
some
respects
as
contrasts
to
each
other
.
When
Liddy
came
into
the
room
a
second
time
the
beautiful
eyes
which
met
hers
had
worn
a
listless
,
weary
look
.
When
she
went
out
after
telling
the
story
they
had
expressed
wretchedness
in
full
activity
.
Her
simple
country
nature
,
fed
on
old
-
fashioned
principles
,
was
troubled
by
that
which
would
have
troubled
a
woman
of
the
world
very
little
,
both
Fanny
and
her
child
,
if
she
had
one
,
being
dead
.
Bathsheba
had
grounds
for
conjecturing
a
connection
between
her
own
history
and
the
dimly
suspected
tragedy
of
Fanny
’
s
end
which
Oak
and
Boldwood
never
for
a
moment
credited
her
with
possessing
.
The
meeting
with
the
lonely
woman
on
the
previous
Saturday
night
had
been
unwitnessed
and
unspoken
of
.
Oak
may
have
had
the
best
of
intentions
in
withholding
for
as
many
days
as
possible
the
details
of
what
had
happened
to
Fanny
;
but
had
he
known
that
Bathsheba
’
s
perceptions
had
already
been
exercised
in
the
matter
,
he
would
have
done
nothing
to
lengthen
the
minutes
of
suspense
she
was
now
undergoing
,
when
the
certainty
which
must
terminate
it
would
be
the
worst
fact
suspected
after
all
.
She
suddenly
felt
a
longing
desire
to
speak
to
some
one
stronger
than
herself
,
and
so
get
strength
to
sustain
her
surmised
position
with
dignity
and
her
lurking
doubts
with
stoicism
.
Where
could
she
find
such
a
friend
?
nowhere
in
the
house
.
She
was
by
far
the
coolest
of
the
women
under
her
roof
.
Patience
and
suspension
of
judgement
for
a
few
hours
were
what
she
wanted
to
learn
,
and
there
was
nobody
to
teach
her
.
Might
she
but
go
to
Gabriel
Oak
!
—
but
that
could
not
be
.
What
a
way
Oak
had
,
she
thought
,
of
enduring
things
.
Boldwood
,
who
seemed
so
much
deeper
and
higher
and
stronger
in
feeling
than
Gabriel
,
had
not
yet
learnt
,
any
more
than
she
herself
,
the
simple
lesson
which
Oak
showed
a
mastery
of
by
every
turn
and
look
he
gave
—
that
among
the
multitude
of
interests
by
which
he
was
surrounded
,
those
which
affected
his
personal
well
-
being
were
not
the
most
absorbing
and
important
in
his
eyes
.
Oak
meditatively
looked
upon
the
horizon
of
circumstances
without
any
special
regard
to
his
own
standpoint
in
the
midst
.
That
was
how
she
would
wish
to
be
.
But
then
Oak
was
not
racked
by
incertitude
upon
the
inmost
matter
of
his
bosom
,
as
she
was
at
this
moment
.
Oak
knew
all
about
Fanny
that
he
wished
to
know
—
she
felt
convinced
of
that
.
If
she
were
to
go
to
him
now
at
once
and
say
no
more
than
these
few
words
,
"
What
is
the
truth
of
the
story
?
"
he
would
feel
bound
in
honour
to
tell
her
.
It
would
be
an
inexpressible
relief
.
No
further
speech
would
need
to
be
uttered
.
He
knew
her
so
well
that
no
eccentricity
of
behaviour
in
her
would
alarm
him
.
She
flung
a
cloak
round
her
,
went
to
the
door
and
opened
it
.
Every
blade
,
every
twig
was
still
.
The
air
was
yet
thick
with
moisture
,
though
somewhat
less
dense
than
during
the
afternoon
,
and
a
steady
smack
of
drops
upon
the
fallen
leaves
under
the
boughs
was
almost
musical
in
its
soothing
regularity
.
It
seemed
better
to
be
out
of
the
house
than
within
it
,
and
Bathsheba
closed
the
door
,
and
walked
slowly
down
the
lane
till
she
came
opposite
to
Gabriel
’
s
cottage
,
where
he
now
lived
alone
,
having
left
Coggan
’
s
house
through
being
pinched
for
room
.
There
was
a
light
in
one
window
only
,
and
that
was
downstairs
.
The
shutters
were
not
closed
,
nor
was
any
blind
or
curtain
drawn
over
the
window
,
neither
robbery
nor
observation
being
a
contingency
which
could
do
much
injury
to
the
occupant
of
the
domicile
.
Yes
,
it
was
Gabriel
himself
who
was
sitting
up
:
he
was
reading
.
From
her
standing
-
place
in
the
road
she
could
see
him
plainly
,
sitting
quite
still
,
his
light
curly
head
upon
his
hand
,
and
only
occasionally
looking
up
to
snuff
the
candle
which
stood
beside
him
.
At
length
he
looked
at
the
clock
,
seemed
surprised
at
the
lateness
of
the
hour
,
closed
his
book
,
and
arose
.
He
was
going
to
bed
,
she
knew
,
and
if
she
tapped
it
must
be
done
at
once
.
