“I will go when I have spoken a word. If
anyone says I have come here to question you without
good grounds for it, that person speaks untruly.
If anyone says that I attempted to stop your marriage
by any but honest means, that person, too, does not
speak the truth. I have fallen on an evil time;
God has been unjust to me in letting you insult me!
Probably my son’s happiness does not lie on this
side of the grave, for he is a foolish man who neglects
the advice of his parent. You, Eustacia, stand
on the edge of a precipice without knowing it.
Only show my son one-half the temper you have shown
me today—and you may before long—and
you will find that though he is as gentle as a child
with you now, he can be as hard as steel!”
The excited mother then withdrew, and Eustacia, panting,
stood looking into the pool.
He Is Set Upon by Adversities; but He Sings a Song
The result of that unpropitious interview was that
Eustacia, instead of passing the afternoon with her
grandfather, hastily returned home to Clym, where
she arrived three hours earlier than she had been
expected.
She came indoors with her face flushed, and her eyes
still showing traces of her recent excitement.
Yeobright looked up astonished; he had never seen
her in any way approaching to that state before.
She passed him by, and would have gone upstairs unnoticed,
but Clym was so concerned that he immediately followed
her.
“What is the matter, Eustacia?” he said.
She was standing on the hearthrug in the bedroom,
looking upon the floor, her hands clasped in front
of her, her bonnet yet unremoved. For a moment
she did not answer; and then she replied in a low
voice—
“I have seen your mother; and I will never see
her again!”
A weight fell like a stone upon Clym. That same
morning, when Eustacia had arranged to go and see
her grandfather, Clym had expressed a wish that she
would drive down to Blooms-End and inquire for her
mother-in-law, or adopt any other means she might think
fit to bring about a reconciliation. She had
set out gaily; and he had hoped for much.
“Why is this?” he asked.
“I cannot tell—I cannot remember.
I met your mother. And I will never meet her
again.”
“Why?”
“What do I know about Mr. Wildeve now?
I won’t have wicked opinions passed on me by
anybody. O! it was too humiliating to be asked
if I had received any money from him, or encouraged
him, or something of the sort—I don’t
exactly know what!”
“How could she have asked you that?”
“She did.”
“Then there must have been some meaning in it.
What did my mother say besides?”
“I don’t know what she said, except in
so far as this, that we both said words which can
never be forgiven!”
“Oh, there must be some misapprehension.
Whose fault was it that her meaning was not made clear?”
