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“
Yes
.
But
you
need
not
come
this
time
,
”
said
his
mother
.
“
In
that
case
I
’
ll
branch
off
here
,
Mother
.
I
am
going
to
Mistover
.
”
Mrs
.
Yeobright
turned
to
him
inquiringly
.
“
I
am
going
to
help
them
get
the
bucket
out
of
the
captain
’
s
well
,
”
he
continued
.
“
As
it
is
so
very
deep
I
may
be
useful
.
And
I
should
like
to
see
this
Miss
Vye
—
not
so
much
for
her
good
looks
as
for
another
reason
.
”
“
Must
you
go
?
”
his
mother
asked
.
“
I
thought
to
.
”
And
they
parted
.
“
There
is
no
help
for
it
,
”
murmured
Clym
’
s
mother
gloomily
as
he
withdrew
.
“
They
are
sure
to
see
each
other
.
I
wish
Sam
would
carry
his
news
to
other
houses
than
mine
.
”
Clym
’
s
retreating
figure
got
smaller
and
smaller
as
it
rose
and
fell
over
the
hillocks
on
his
way
.
“
He
is
tender
-
hearted
,
”
said
Mrs
.
Yeobright
to
herself
while
she
watched
him
;
“
otherwise
it
would
matter
little
.
How
he
’
s
going
on
!
”
He
was
,
indeed
,
walking
with
a
will
over
the
furze
,
as
straight
as
a
line
,
as
if
his
life
depended
upon
it
.
His
mother
drew
a
long
breath
,
and
,
abandoning
the
visit
to
Thomasin
,
turned
back
.
The
evening
films
began
to
make
nebulous
pictures
of
the
valleys
,
but
the
high
lands
still
were
raked
by
the
declining
rays
of
the
winter
sun
,
which
glanced
on
Clym
as
he
walked
forward
,
eyed
by
every
rabbit
and
field
-
fare
around
,
a
long
shadow
advancing
in
front
of
him
.
