The Return of the Native eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 545 pages of information about The Return of the Native.

The customary expedient of provincial girls and men in such circumstances is churchgoing.  In an ordinary village or country town one can safely calculate that, either on Christmas-day or the Sunday contiguous, any native home for the holidays, who has not through age or ennui lost the appetite for seeing and being seen, will turn up in some pew or other, shining with hope, self-consciousness, and new clothes.  Thus the congregation on Christmas morning is mostly a Tussaud collection of celebrities who have been born in the neighbourhood.  Hither the mistress, left neglected at home all the year, can steal and observe the development of the returned lover who has forgotten her, and think as she watches him over her prayer-book that he may throb with a renewed fidelity when novelties have lost their charm.  And hither a comparatively recent settler like Eustacia may betake herself to scrutinize the person of a native son who left home before her advent upon the scene, and consider if the friendship of his parents be worth cultivating during his next absence in order to secure a knowledge of him on his next return.

But these tender schemes were not feasible among the scattered inhabitants of Egdon Heath.  In name they were parishioners, but virtually they belonged to no parish at all.  People who came to these few isolated houses to keep Christmas with their friends remained in their friends’ chimney-corners drinking mead and other comforting liquors till they left again for good and all.  Rain, snow, ice, mud everywhere around, they did not care to trudge two or three miles to sit wet-footed and splashed to the nape of their necks among those who, though in some measure neighbours, lived close to the church, and entered it clean and dry.  Eustacia knew it was ten to one that Clym Yeobright would go to no church at all during his few days of leave, and that it would be a waste of labour for her to go driving the pony and gig over a bad road in hope to see him there.

It was dusk, and she was sitting by the fire in the dining-room or hall, which they occupied at this time of the year in preference to the parlour, because of its large hearth, constructed for turf-fires, a fuel the captain was partial to in the winter season.  The only visible articles in the room were those on the window-sill, which showed their shapes against the low sky:  the middle article being the old hourglass, and the other two a pair of ancient British urns which had been dug from a barrow near, and were used as flower-pots for two razor-leaved cactuses.  Somebody knocked at the door.  The servant was out; so was her grandfather.  The person, after waiting a minute, came in and tapped at the door of the room.

“Who’s there?” said Eustacia.

“Please, Cap’n Vye, will you let us—­”

Eustacia arose and went to the door.  “I cannot allow you to come in so boldly.  You should have waited.”

“The cap’n said I might come in without any fuss,” was answered in a lad’s pleasant voice.

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The Return of the Native from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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