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“
No
;
not
so
very
soon
.
”
Wildeve
went
indoors
to
the
empty
room
,
a
curious
heartache
within
him
.
He
rested
his
elbow
upon
the
mantelpiece
and
his
face
upon
his
hand
.
When
Thomasin
entered
the
room
he
did
not
tell
her
of
what
he
had
heard
.
The
old
longing
for
Eustacia
had
reappeared
in
his
soul
—
and
it
was
mainly
because
he
had
discovered
that
it
was
another
man
’
s
intention
to
possess
her
.
To
be
yearning
for
the
difficult
,
to
be
weary
of
that
offered
;
to
care
for
the
remote
,
to
dislike
the
near
;
it
was
Wildeve
’
s
nature
always
.
This
is
the
true
mark
of
the
man
of
sentiment
.
Though
Wildeve
’
s
fevered
feeling
had
not
been
elaborated
to
real
poetical
compass
,
it
was
of
the
standard
sort
.
His
might
have
been
called
the
Rousseau
of
Egdon
.
The
wedding
morning
came
.
Nobody
would
have
imagined
from
appearances
that
Blooms
-
End
had
any
interest
in
Mistover
that
day
.
A
solemn
stillness
prevailed
around
the
house
of
Clym
’
s
mother
,
and
there
was
no
more
animation
indoors
.
Mrs
.
Yeobright
,
who
had
declined
to
attend
the
ceremony
,
sat
by
the
breakfast
table
in
the
old
room
which
communicated
immediately
with
the
porch
,
her
eyes
listlessly
directed
towards
the
open
door
.
It
was
the
room
in
which
,
six
months
earlier
,
the
merry
Christmas
party
had
met
,
to
which
Eustacia
came
secretly
and
as
a
stranger
.
The
only
living
thing
that
entered
now
was
a
sparrow
;
and
seeing
no
movements
to
cause
alarm
,
he
hopped
boldly
round
the
room
,
endeavoured
to
go
out
by
the
window
,
and
fluttered
among
the
pot
-
flowers
.
This
roused
the
lonely
sitter
,
who
got
up
,
released
the
bird
,
and
went
to
the
door
.
She
was
expecting
Thomasin
,
who
had
written
the
night
before
to
state
that
the
time
had
come
when
she
would
wish
to
have
the
money
and
that
she
would
if
possible
call
this
day
.
Yet
Thomasin
occupied
Mrs
.
Yeobright
’
s
thoughts
but
slightly
as
she
looked
up
the
valley
of
the
heath
,
alive
with
butterflies
,
and
with
grasshoppers
whose
husky
noises
on
every
side
formed
a
whispered
chorus
.
A
domestic
drama
,
for
which
the
preparations
were
now
being
made
a
mile
or
two
off
,
was
but
little
less
vividly
present
to
her
eyes
than
if
enacted
before
her
.
She
tried
to
dismiss
the
vision
,
and
walked
about
the
garden
plot
;
but
her
eyes
ever
and
anon
sought
out
the
direction
of
the
parish
church
to
which
Mistover
belonged
,
and
her
excited
fancy
clove
the
hills
which
divided
the
building
from
her
eyes
.
The
morning
wore
away
.
Eleven
o
’
clock
struck
—
could
it
be
that
the
wedding
was
then
in
progress
?
It
must
be
so
.
She
went
on
imagining
the
scene
at
the
church
,
which
he
had
by
this
time
approached
with
his
bride
.
She
pictured
the
little
group
of
children
by
the
gate
as
the
pony
carriage
drove
up
in
which
,
as
Thomasin
had
learnt
,
they
were
going
to
perform
the
short
journey
.
Then
she
saw
them
enter
and
proceed
to
the
chancel
and
kneel
;
and
the
service
seemed
to
go
on
.
She
covered
her
face
with
her
hands
.
“
O
,
it
is
a
mistake
!
”
she
groaned
.
“
And
he
will
rue
it
some
day
,
and
think
of
me
!
”
While
she
remained
thus
,
overcome
by
her
forebodings
,
the
old
clock
indoors
whizzed
forth
twelve
strokes
.
Soon
after
,
faint
sounds
floated
to
her
ear
from
afar
over
the
hills
.
The
breeze
came
from
that
quarter
,
and
it
had
brought
with
it
the
notes
of
distant
bells
,
gaily
starting
off
in
a
peal
:
one
,
two
,
three
,
four
,
five
.
The
ringers
at
East
Egdon
were
announcing
the
nuptials
of
Eustacia
and
her
son
.
“
Then
it
is
over
,
”
she
murmured
.
“
Well
,
well
!
and
life
too
will
be
over
soon
.
And
why
should
I
go
on
scalding
my
face
like
this
?
Cry
about
one
thing
in
life
,
cry
about
all
;
one
thread
runs
through
the
whole
piece
.
And
yet
we
say
,
’
a
time
to
laugh
!
’
”
Towards
evening
Wildeve
came
.
Since
Thomasin
’
s
marriage
Mrs
.
Yeobright
had
shown
him
that
grim
friendliness
which
at
last
arises
in
all
such
cases
of
undesired
affinity
.
The
vision
of
what
ought
to
have
been
is
thrown
aside
in
sheer
weariness
,
and
browbeaten
human
endeavour
listlessly
makes
the
best
of
the
fact
that
is
.
