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

“I have given my word to.  But what is the use of it?  He must soon know what has happened.  A mere look at your face will show him that something is wrong.”

Thomasin turned and regarded her aunt from the tree.  “Now, hearken to me,” she said, her delicate voice expanding into firmness by a force which was other than physical.  “Tell him nothing.  If he finds out that I am not worthy to be his cousin, let him.  But, since he loved me once, we will not pain him by telling him my trouble too soon.  The air is full of the story, I know; but gossips will not dare to speak of it to him for the first few days.  His closeness to me is the very thing that will hinder the tale from reaching him early.  If I am not made safe from sneers in a week or two I will tell him myself.”

The earnestness with which Thomasin spoke prevented further objections.  Her aunt simply said, “Very well.  He should by rights have been told at the time that the wedding was going to be.  He will never forgive you for your secrecy.”

“Yes, he will, when he knows it was because I wished to spare him, and that I did not expect him home so soon.  And you must not let me stand in the way of your Christmas party.  Putting it off would only make matters worse.”

“Of course I shall not.  I do not wish to show myself beaten before all Egdon, and the sport of a man like Wildeve.  We have enough berries now, I think, and we had better take them home.  By the time we have decked the house with this and hung up the mistletoe, we must think of starting to meet him.”

Thomasin came out of the tree, shook from her hair and dress the loose berries which had fallen thereon, and went down the hill with her aunt, each woman bearing half the gathered boughs.  It was now nearly four o’clock, and the sunlight was leaving the vales.  When the west grew red the two relatives came again from the house and plunged into the heath in a different direction from the first, towards a point in the distant highway along which the expected man was to return.

III

How a Little Sound Produced a Great Dream

Eustacia stood just within the heath, straining her eyes in the direction of Mrs. Yeobright’s house and premises.  No light, sound, or movement was perceptible there.  The evening was chilly; the spot was dark and lonely.  She inferred that the guest had not yet come; and after lingering ten or fifteen minutes she turned again towards home.

She had not far retraced her steps when sounds in front of her betokened the approach of persons in conversation along the same path.  Soon their heads became visible against the sky.  They were walking slowly; and though it was too dark for much discovery of character from aspect, the gait of them showed that they were not workers on the heath.  Eustacia stepped a little out of the foot-track to let them pass.  They were two women and a man; and the voices of the women were those of Mrs. Yeobright and Thomasin.

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