A Changed Man and Other Tales by Thomas Hardy (animal farm read .TXT) đ
- Author: Thomas Hardy
- Performer: -
Book online «A Changed Man and Other Tales by Thomas Hardy (animal farm read .TXT) đ». Author Thomas Hardy
âWell?â said the expectant Mrs. Wace.
âI have agreed to have him as my husband,â said Baptista, in an offhand way. âHeaven knows if it will be for the best or not. But I have agreed to do it, and so the matter is settled.â
Mrs. Wace commended her; but Baptista did not care to dwell on the subject; so that allusion to it was very infrequent between them. Nevertheless, among other things, she repeated to the widow from time to time in monosyllabic remarks that the wedding was really impending; that it was arranged for the summer, and that she had given notice of leaving the school at the August holidays. Later on she announced more specifically that her marriage was to take place immediately after her return home at the beginning of the month aforesaid.
She now corresponded regularly with Mr. Heddegan. Her letters from him were seen, at least on the outside, and in part within, by Mrs. Wace. Had she read more of their interiors than the occasional sentences shown her by Baptista she would have perceived that the scratchy, rusty handwriting of Miss Trewthenâs betrothed conveyed little more matter than details of their future housekeeping, and his preparations for the same, with innumerable âmy dearsâ sprinkled in disconnectedly, to show the depth of his affection without the inconveniences of syntax.
It was the end of Julyâdry, too dry, even for the season, the delicate green herbs and vegetables that grew in this favoured end of the kingdom tasting rather of the watering-pot than of the pure fresh moisture from the skies. Baptistaâs boxes were packed, and one Saturday morning she departed by a waggonette to the station, and thence by train to Pen-zephyr, from which port she was, as usual, to cross the water immediately to her home, and become Mr. Heddeganâs wife on the Wednesday of the week following.
She might have returned a week sooner. But though the wedding day had loomed so near, and the banns were out, she delayed her departure till this last moment, saying it was not necessary for her to be at home long beforehand. As Mr. Heddegan was older than herself, she said, she was to be married in her ordinary summer bonnet and grey silk frock, and there were no preparations to make that had not been amply made by her parents and intended husband.
In due time, after a hot and tedious journey, she reached Pen-zephyr. She here obtained some refreshment, and then went towards the pier, where she learnt to her surprise that the little steamboat plying between the town and the islands had left at eleven oâclock; the usual hour of departure in the afternoon having been forestalled in consequence of the fogs which had for a few days prevailed towards evening, making twilight navigation dangerous.
This being Saturday, there was now no other boat till Tuesday, and it became obvious that here she would have to remain for the three days, unless her friends should think fit to rig out one of the islandâ sailing-boats and come to fetch herâa not very likely contingency, the sea distance being nearly forty miles.
Baptista, however, had been detained in Pen-zephyr on more than one occasion before, either on account of bad weather or some such reason as the present, and she was therefore not in any personal alarm. But, as she was to be married on the following Wednesday, the delay was certainly inconvenient to a more than ordinary degree, since it would leave less than a dayâs interval between her arrival and the wedding ceremony.
Apart from this awkwardness she did not much mind the accident. It was indeed curious to see how little she minded. Perhaps it would not be too much to say that, although she was going to do the critical deed of her life quite willingly, she experienced an indefinable relief at the postponement of her meeting with Heddegan. But her manner after making discovery of the hindrance was quiet and subdued, even to passivity itself; as was instanced by her having, at the moment of receiving information that the steamer had sailed, replied âOh,â so coolly to the porter with her luggage, that he was almost disappointed at her lack of disappointment.
The question now was, should she return again to Mrs. Wace, in the village of Lower Wessex, or wait in the town at which she had arrived. She would have preferred to go back, but the distance was too great; moreover, having left the place for good, and somewhat dramatically, to become a bride, a return, even for so short a space, would have been a trifle humiliating.
Leaving, then, her boxes at the station, her next anxiety was to secure a respectable, or rather genteel, lodging in the popular seaside resort confronting her. To this end she looked about the town, in which, though she had passed through it half-a-dozen times, she was practically a stranger.
Baptista found a room to suit her over a fruitererâs shop; where she made herself at home, and set herself in order after her journey. An early cup of tea having revived her spirits she walked out to reconnoitre.
Being a schoolmistress she avoided looking at the schools, and having a sort of trade connection with books, she avoided looking at the booksellers; but wearying of the other shops she inspected the churches; not that for her own part she cared much about ecclesiastical edifices; but tourists looked at them, and so would sheâa proceeding for which no one would have credited her with any great originality, such, for instance, as that she subsequently showed herself to possess. The churches soon oppressed her. She tried the Museum, but came out because it seemed lonely and tedious.
Yet the town and the walks in this land of strawberries, these headquarters of early English flowers and fruit, were then, as always, attractive. From the more picturesque streets she went to the town gardens, and the Pier, and the Harbour, and looked at the men at work there, loading and unloading as in the time of the Phoenicians.
âNot Baptista? Yes, Baptista it is!â
The words were uttered behind her. Turning round she gave a start, and became confused, even agitated, for a moment. Then she said in her usual undemonstrative manner, âOâis it really you, Charles?â
Without speaking again at once, and with a half-smile, the newcomer glanced her over. There was much criticism, and some resentmentâ even temperâin his eye.
âI am going home,â continued she. âBut I have missed the boat.â
He scarcely seemed to take in the meaning of this explanation, in the intensity of his critical survey. âTeaching still? What a fine schoolmistress you make, Baptista, I warrant!â he said with a slight flavour of sarcasm, which was not lost upon her.
âI know I am nothing to brag of,â she replied. âThatâs why I have given up.â
âOâgiven up? You astonish me.â
âI hate the profession.â
âPerhaps thatâs because I am in it.â
âO no, it isnât. But I am going to enter on another life altogether. I am going to be married next week to Mr. David Heddegan.â
The young manâfortified as he was by a natural cynical pride and passionatenessâwinced at this unexpected reply, notwithstanding.
âWho is Mr. David Heddegan?â he asked, as indifferently as lay in his power.
She informed him the bearer of the name was a general merchant of Giantâs Town, St. Mariaâs islandâher fatherâs nearest neighbour and oldest friend.
âThen we shanât see anything more of you on the mainland?â inquired the schoolmaster.
âO, I donât know about that,â said Miss Trewthen.
âHere endeth the career of the belle of the boarding-school your father was foolish enough to send you to. A âgeneral merchantâsâ wife in the Lyonesse Isles. Will you sell pounds of soap and pennyworths of tin tacks, or whole bars of saponaceous matter, and great tenpenny nails?â
âHeâs not in such a small way as that!â she almost pleaded. âHe owns ships, though they are rather little ones!â
âO, well, it is much the same. Come, let us walk on; it is tedious to stand still. I thought you would be a failure in education,â he continued, when she obeyed him and strolled ahead. âYou never showed power that way. You remind me much of some of those women who think they are sure to be great actresses if they go on the stage, because they have a pretty face, and forget that what we require is acting. But you found your mistake, didnât you?â
âDonât taunt me, Charles.â It was noticeable that the young schoolmasterâs tone caused her no anger or retaliatory passion; far otherwise: there was a tear in her eye. âHow is it you are at Pen-zephyr?â she inquired.
âI donât taunt you. I speak the truth, purely in a friendly way, as I should to any one I wished well. Though for that matter I might have some excuse even for taunting you. Such a terrible hurry as youâve been in. I hate a woman who is in such a hurry.â
âHow do you mean that?â
âWhyâto be somebodyâs wife or otherâanythingâs wife rather than nobodyâs. You couldnât wait for me, O, no. Well, thank God, Iâm cured of all that!â
âHow merciless you are!â she said bitterly. âWait for you? What does that mean, Charley? You never showedâanything to wait forâ anything special towards me.â
âO come, Baptista dear; come!â
âWhat I mean is, nothing definite,â she expostulated. âI suppose you liked me a little; but it seemed to me to be only a pastime on your part, and that you never meant to make an honourable engagement of it.â
âThere, thatâs just it! You girls expect a man to mean business at the first look. No man when he first becomes interested in a woman has any definite scheme of engagement to marry her in his mind, unless he is meaning a vulgar mercenary marriage. However, I DID at last mean an honourable engagement, as you call it, come to that.â
âBut you never said so, and an indefinite courtship soon injures a womanâs position and credit, sooner than you think.â
âBaptista, I solemnly declare that in six months I should have asked you to marry me.â
She walked along in silence, looking on the ground, and appearing very uncomfortable. Presently he said, âWould you have waited for me if you had known?â To this she whispered in a sorrowful whisper, âYes!â
They went still farther in silenceâpassing along one of the beautiful walks on the outskirts of the town, yet not observant of scene or situation. Her shoulder and his were close together, and he clasped his fingers round the small of her armâquite lightly, and without any attempt at impetus; yet the act seemed to say, âNow I hold you, and my will must be yours.â
Recurring to a previous question of hers he said, âI have merely run down here for a day or two from school near Trufal, before going off to the north for the rest of my holiday. I have seen my relations at Redrutin quite lately, so I am not going there this time. How little I thought of meeting you! How very different the circumstances would have been if, instead of parting again as we must in half-an-hour or so, possibly for ever, you had been now just going off with me, as my wife, on our honeymoon trip. Haâhaâwellâso humorous is life!â
She stopped suddenly. âI must go back nowâthis is altogether too painful, Charley! It is not at all a kind mood you are in to-day.â
âI donât want to pain youâyou know
Comments (0)