by Thomas Hardy
CHAPTER VI: INTO TEMPTATION
The day was done, and Fancy was again in the school-house. About fiveo'clock it began to rain, and in rather a dull frame of mind she wanderedinto the schoolroom, for want of something better to do. She wasthinking--of her lover Dick Dewy? Not precisely. Of how weary she wasof living alone: how unbearable it would be to return to Yalbury underthe rule of her strange-tempered step-mother; that it was far better tobe married to anybody than do that; that eight or nine long months hadyet to be lived through ere the wedding could take place.
At the side of the room were high windows of Ham-hill stone, upon eithersill of which she could sit by first mounting a desk and using it as afootstool. As the evening advanced here she perched herself, as was hercustom on such wet and gloomy occasions, put on a light shawl and bonnet,opened the window, and looked out at the rain.
The window overlooked a field called the Grove, and it was the positionfrom which she used to survey the crown of Dick's passing hat in theearly days of their acquaintance and meetings. Not a living soul was nowvisible anywhere; the rain kept all people indoors who were not forcedabroad by necessity, and necessity was less importunate on Sundays thanduring the week.
Sitting here and thinking again--of her lover, or of the sensation shehad created at church that day?--well, it is unknown--thinking andthinking she saw a dark masculine figure arising into distinctness at thefurther end of the Grove--a man without an umbrella. Nearer and nearerhe came, and she perceived that he was in deep mourning, and then that itwas Dick. Yes, in the fondness and foolishness of his young heart, afterwalking four miles, in a drizzling rain without overcoat or umbrella, andin face of a remark from his love that he was not to come because hewould be tired, he had made it his business to wander this mile out ofhis way again, from sheer wish of spending ten minutes in her presence.
"O Dick, how wet you are!" she said, as he drew up under the window."Why, your coat shines as if it had been varnished, and your hat--mygoodness, there's a streaming hat!"
"O, I don't mind, darling!" said Dick cheerfully. "Wet never hurts me,though I am rather sorry for my best clothes. However, it couldn't behelped; we lent all the umbrellas to the women. I don't know when Ishall get mine back!"
"And look, there's a nasty patch of something just on your shoulder."
"Ah, that's japanning; it rubbed off the clamps of poor Jack's coffinwhen we lowered him from our shoulders upon the bier! I don't care aboutthat, for 'twas the last deed I could do for him; and 'tis hard if youcan't afford a coat for an old friend."
Fancy put her hand to her mouth for half a minute. Underneath the palmof that little hand there existed for that half-minute a little yawn.
"Dick, I don't like you to stand there in the wet. And you mustn't sitdown. Go home and change your things. Don't stay another minute."
"One kiss after coming so far," he pleaded.
"If I can reach, then."
He looked rather disappointed at not being invited round to the door. Shetwisted from her seated position and bent herself downwards, but not evenby standing on the plinth was it possible for Dick to get his lips intocontact with hers as she held them. By great exertion she might havereached a little lower; but then she would have exposed her head to therain.
"Never mind, Dick; kiss my hand," she said, flinging it down to him."Now, good-bye."
"Good-bye."
He walked slowly away, turning and turning again to look at her till hewas out of sight. During the retreat she said to herself, almostinvoluntarily, and still conscious of that morning's triumph--"I likeDick, and I love him; but how plain and sorry a man looks in the rain,with no umbrella, and wet through!"
As he vanished, she made as if to descend from her seat; but glancing inthe other direction she saw another form coming along the same track. Itwas also that of a man. He, too, was in black from top to toe; but hecarried an umbrella.
He drew nearer, and the direction of the rain caused him so to slant hisumbrella that from her height above the ground his head was invisible, asshe was also to him. He passed in due time directly beneath her, and inlooking down upon the exterior of his umbrella her feminine eyesperceived it to be of superior silk--less common at that date thansince--and of elegant make. He reached the entrance to the building, andFancy suddenly lost sight of him. Instead of pursuing the roadway asDick had done he had turned sharply round into her own porch.
She jumped to the floor, hastily flung off her shawl and bonnet, smoothedand patted her hair till the curls hung in passable condition, andlistened. No knock. Nearly a minute passed, and still there was noknock. Then there arose a soft series of raps, no louder than thetapping of a distant woodpecker, and barely distinct enough to reach herears. She composed herself and flung open the door.
In the porch stood Mr. Maybold.
There was a warm flush upon his face, and a bright flash in his eyes,which made him look handsomer than she had ever seen him before.
"Good-evening, Miss Day."
"Good-evening, Mr. Maybold," she said, in a strange state of mind. Shehad noticed, beyond the ardent hue of his face, that his voice had asingular tremor in it, and that his hand shook like an aspen leaf when helaid his umbrella in the corner of the porch. Without another word beingspoken by either, he came into the schoolroom, shut the door, and movedclose to her. Once inside, the expression of his face was no morediscernible, by reason of the increasing dusk of evening.
"I want to speak to you," he then said; "seriously--on a perhapsunexpected subject, but one which is all the world to me--I don't knowwhat it may be to you, Miss Day."
No reply.
"Fancy, I have come to ask you if you will be my wife?"
As a person who has been idly amusing himself with rolling a snowballmight start at finding he had set in motion an avalanche, so did Fancystart at these words from the vicar. And in the dead silence whichfollowed them, the breathings of the man and of the woman could bedistinctly and separately heard; and there was this difference betweenthem--his respirations gradually grew quieter and less rapid after theenunciation, hers, from having been low and regular, increased inquickness and force, till she almost panted.
"I cannot, I cannot, Mr. Maybold--I cannot! Don't ask me!" she said.
"Don't answer in a hurry!" he entreated. "And do listen to me. This isno sudden feeling on my part. I have loved you for more than six months!Perhaps my late interest in teaching the children here has not been sosingle-minded as it seemed. You will understand my motive--like mebetter, perhaps, for honestly telling you that I have struggled againstmy emotion continually, because I have thought that it was not well forme to love you! But I resolved to struggle no longer; I have examinedthe feeling; and the love I bear you is as genuine as that I could bearany woman! I see your great charm; I respect your natural talents, andthe refinement they have brought into your nature--they are quite enough,and more than enough for me! They are equal to anything ever required ofthe mistress of a quiet parsonage-house--the place in which I shall passmy days, wherever it may be situated. O Fancy, I have watched you,criticized you even severely, brought my feelings to the light ofjudgment, and still have found them rational, and such as any man mighthave expected to be inspired with by a woman like you! So there isnothing hurried, secret, or untoward in my desire to do this. Fancy,will you marry me?"
No answer was returned.
"Don't refuse; don't," he implored. "It would be foolish of you--I meancruel! Of course we would not live here, Fancy. I have had for a longtime the offer of an exchange of livings with a friend in Yorkshire, butI have hitherto refused on account of my mother. There we would go. Yourmusical powers shall be still further developed; you shall have whateverpianoforte you like; you shall have anything, Fancy, anything to make youhappy--pony-carriage, flowers, birds, pleasant society; yes, you haveenough in you for any society, after a few months of travel with me! Willyou, Fancy, marry me?"
Another pause ensu
ed, varied only by the surging of the rain against thewindow-panes, and then Fancy spoke, in a faint and broken voice.
"Yes, I will," she said.
"God bless you, my own!" He advanced quickly, and put his arm out toembrace her. She drew back hastily. "No no, not now!" she said in anagitated whisper. "There are things;--but the temptation is, O, toostrong, and I can't resist it; I can't tell you now, but I must tell you!Don't, please, don't come near me now! I want to think, I can scarcelyget myself used to the idea of what I have promised yet." The nextminute she turned to a desk, buried her face in her hands, and burst intoa hysterical fit of weeping. "O, leave me to myself!" she sobbed; "leaveme! O, leave me!"
"Don't be distressed; don't, dearest!" It was with visible difficultythat he restrained himself from approaching her. "You shall tell me atyour leisure what it is that grieves you so; I am happy--beyond allmeasure happy!--at having your simple promise."
"And do go and leave me now!"
"But I must not, in justice to you, leave for a minute, until you areyourself again."
"There then," she said, controlling her emotion, and standing up; "I amnot disturbed now."
He reluctantly moved towards the door. "Good-bye!" he murmured tenderly."I'll come to-morrow about this time."
