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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 427 pages of information about The Return of the Native.

To call at the captain’s cottage was always more or less an undertaking for the inferior inhabitants.  Though occasionally chatty, his moods were erratic, and nobody could be certain how he would behave at any particular moment.  Eustacia was reserved, and lived very much to herself.  Except the daughter of one of the cotters, who was their servant, and a lad who worked in the garden and stable, scarcely anyone but themselves ever entered the house.  They were the only genteel people of the district except the Yeobrights, and though far from rich, they did not feel that necessity for preserving a friendly face towards every man, bird, and beast which influenced their poorer neighbours.

When the reddleman entered the garden the old man was looking through his glass at the stain of blue sea in the distant landscape, the little anchors on his buttons twinkling in the sun.  He recognized Venn as his companion on the highway, but made no remark on that circumstance, merely saying, “Ah, reddleman—­you here?  Have a glass of grog?”

Venn declined, on the plea of it being too early, and stated that his business was with Miss Vye.  The captain surveyed him from cap to waistcoat and from waistcoat to leggings for a few moments, and finally asked him to go indoors.

Miss Vye was not to be seen by anybody just then; and the reddleman waited in the window-bench of the kitchen, his hands hanging across his divergent knees, and his cap hanging from his hands.

“I suppose the young lady is not up yet?” he presently said to the servant.

“Not quite yet.  Folks never call upon ladies at this time of day.”

“Then I’ll step outside,” said Venn.  “If she is willing to see me, will she please send out word, and I’ll come in.”

The reddleman left the house and loitered on the hill adjoining.  A considerable time elapsed, and no request for his presence was brought.  He was beginning to think that his scheme had failed, when he beheld the form of Eustacia herself coming leisurely towards him.  A sense of novelty in giving audience to that singular figure had been sufficient to draw her forth.

She seemed to feel, after a bare look at Diggory Venn, that the man had come on a strange errand, and that he was not so mean as she had thought him; for her close approach did not cause him to writhe uneasily, or shift his feet, or show any of those little signs which escape an ingenuous rustic at the advent of the uncommon in womankind.  On his inquiring if he might have a conversation with her she replied, “Yes, walk beside me,” and continued to move on.

Before they had gone far it occurred to the perspicacious reddleman that he would have acted more wisely by appearing less unimpressionable, and he resolved to correct the error as soon as he could find opportunity.

“I have made so bold, miss, as to step across and tell you some strange news which has come to my ears about that man.”

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