CHAPTER XXX
HOT CHEEKS AND TEARFUL EYES
Half an hour later Bathsheba entered her own house. There burntupon her face when she met the light of the candles the flush andexcitement which were little less than chronic with her now. Thefarewell words of Troy, who had accompanied her to the very door,still lingered in her ears. He had bidden her adieu for two days,which were, so he stated, to be spent at Bath in visiting somefriends. He had also kissed her a second time.
It is only fair to Bathsheba to explain here a little fact whichdid not come to light till a long time afterwards: that Troy'spresentation of himself so aptly at the roadside this evening wasnot by any distinctly preconcerted arrangement. He had hinted--shehad forbidden; and it was only on the chance of his still comingthat she had dismissed Oak, fearing a meeting between them justthen.
She now sank down into a chair, wild and perturbed by all thesenew and fevering sequences. Then she jumped up with a manner ofdecision, and fetched her desk from a side table.
In three minutes, without pause or modification, she had written aletter to Boldwood, at his address beyond Casterbridge, saying mildlybut firmly that she had well considered the whole subject he hadbrought before her and kindly given her time to decide upon thather final decision was that she could not marry him. She hadexpressed to Oak an intention to wait till Boldwood came home beforecommunicating to him her conclusive reply. But Bathsheba found thatshe could not wait.
It was impossible to send this letter till the next day; yet to quellher uneasiness by getting it out of her hands, and so, as it were,setting the act in motion at once, she arose to take it to any one ofthe women who might be in the kitchen.
She paused in the passage. A dialogue was going on in the kitchen,and Bathsheba and Troy were the subject of it.
"If he marry her, she'll gie up farming."
"'Twill be a gallant life, but may bring some trouble between themirth--so say I."
"Well, I wish I had half such a husband."
Bathsheba had too much sense to mind seriously what her servitorssaid about her; but too much womanly redundance of speech to leavealone what was said till it died the natural death of unmindedthings. She burst in upon them.
"Who are you speaking of?" she asked.
There was a pause before anybody replied. At last Liddy saidfrankly, "What was passing was a bit of a word about yourself, miss."
"I thought so! Maryann and Liddy and Temperance--now I forbid youto suppose such things. You know I don't care the least for Mr.Troy--not I. Everybody knows how much I hate him.--Yes," repeatedthe froward young person, "HATE him!"
"We know you do, miss," said Liddy; "and so do we all."
"I hate him too," said Maryann.
"Maryann--Oh you perjured woman! How can you speak that wickedstory!" said Bathsheba, excitedly. "You admired him from your heartonly this morning in the very world, you did. Yes, Maryann, you knowit!"
"Yes, miss, but so did you. He is a wild scamp now, and you areright to hate him."
"He's NOT a wild scamp! How dare you to my face! I have no right tohate him, nor you, nor anybody. But I am a silly woman! What is itto me what he is? You know it is nothing. I don't care for him; Idon't mean to defend his good name, not I. Mind this, if any of yousay a word against him you'll be dismissed instantly!"
She flung down the letter and surged back into the parlour, with abig heart and tearful eyes, Liddy following her.
"Oh miss!" said mild Liddy, looking pitifully into Bathsheba's face."I am sorry we mistook you so! I did think you cared for him; but Isee you don't now."
"Shut the door, Liddy."
Liddy closed the door, and went on: "People always say such foolery,miss. I'll make answer hencefor'ard, 'Of course a lady like MissEverdene can't love him'; I'll say it out in plain black and white."
Bathsheba burst out: "O Liddy, are you such a simpleton? Can't youread riddles? Can't you see? Are you a woman yourself?"
Liddy's clear eyes rounded with wonderment.
"Yes; you must be a blind thing, Liddy!" she said, in recklessabandonment and grief. "Oh, I love him to very distraction andmisery and agony! Don't be frightened at me, though perhaps I amenough to frighten any innocent woman. Come closer--closer." Sheput her arms round Liddy's neck. "I must let it out to somebody; itis wearing me away! Don't you yet know enough of me to see throughthat miserable denial of mine? O God, what a lie it was! Heaven andmy Love forgive me. And don't you know that a woman who loves atall thinks nothing of perjury when it is balanced against her love?There, go out of the room; I want to be quite alone."
Liddy went towards the door.
"Liddy, come here. Solemnly swear to me that he's not a fast man;that it is all lies they say about him!"
"But, miss, how can I say he is not if--"
"You graceless girl! How can you have the cruel heart to repeat whatthey say? Unfeeling thing that you are.... But I'LL see if you oranybody else in the village, or town either, dare do such a thing!"She started off, pacing from fireplace to door, and back again.
"No, miss. I don't--I know it is not true!" said Liddy, frightenedat Bathsheba's unwonted vehemence.
"I suppose you only agree with me like that to please me. But,Liddy, he CANNOT BE bad, as is said. Do you hear?"
"Yes, miss, yes."
"And you don't believe he is?"
"I don't know what to say, miss," said Liddy, beginning to cry. "IfI say No, you don't believe me; and if I say Yes, you rage at me!"
"Say you don't believe it--say you don't!"
"I don't believe him to be so bad as they make out."
"He is not bad at all.... My poor life and heart, how weak Iam!" she moaned, in a relaxed, desultory way, heedless of Liddy'spresence. "Oh, how I wish I had never seen him! Loving is miseryfor women always. I shall never forgive God for making me a woman,and dearly am I beginning to pay for the honour of owning a prettyface." She freshened and turned to Liddy suddenly. "Mind this,Lydia Smallbury, if you repeat anywhere a single word of what I havesaid to you inside this closed door, I'll never trust you, or loveyou, or have you with me a moment longer--not a moment!"
"I don't want to repeat anything," said Liddy, with womanly dignityof a diminutive order; "but I don't wish to stay with you. And,if you please, I'll go at the end of the harvest, or this week, orto-day.... I don't see that I deserve to be put upon and stormed atfor nothing!" concluded the small woman, bigly.
"No, no, Liddy; you must stay!" said Bathsheba, dropping fromhaughtiness to entreaty with capricious inconsequence. "You must notnotice my being in a taking just now. You are not as a servant--youare a companion to me. Dear, dear--I don't know what I am doingsince this miserable ache of my heart has weighted and worn upon meso! What shall I come to! I suppose I shall get further and furtherinto troubles. I wonder sometimes if I am doomed to die in theUnion. I am friendless enough, God knows!"
"I won't notice anything, nor will I leave you!" sobbed Liddy,impulsively putting up her lips to Bathsheba's, and kissing her.
Then Bathsheba kissed Liddy, and all was smooth again.
"I don't often cry, do I, Lidd? but you have made tears come into myeyes," she said, a smile shining through the moisture. "Try to thinkhim a good man, won't you, dear Liddy?"
"I will, miss, indeed."
"He is a sort of steady man in a wild way, you know. That's betterthan to be as some are, wild in a steady way. I am afraid that'show I am. And promise me to keep my secret--do, Liddy! And do notlet them know that I have been crying about him, because it will bedreadful for me, and no good to him, poor thing!"
"Death's head himself shan't wring it from me, mistress, if I'vea mind to keep anything; and I'll always be your friend," repliedLiddy, emphatically, at the same time bringing a few more tears intoher own eyes, not from any particular necessity, but from an artisticsense of making herself in keeping with the remainder of the picture,which seems to influence women at such ti
mes. "I think God likes usto be good friends, don't you?"
"Indeed I do."
"And, dear miss, you won't harry me and storm at me, will you?because you seem to swell so tall as a lion then, and it frightensme! Do you know, I fancy you would be a match for any man when youare in one o' your takings."
"Never! do you?" said Bathsheba, slightly laughing, though somewhatseriously alarmed by this Amazonian picture of herself. "I hope I amnot a bold sort of maid--mannish?" she continued with some anxiety.
"Oh no, not mannish; but so almighty womanish that 'tis getting onthat way sometimes. Ah! miss," she said, after having drawn herbreath very sadly in and sent it very sadly out, "I wish I had halfyour failing that way. 'Tis a great protection to a poor maid inthese illegit'mate days!"