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tunes would have been a poor sort of wele。”
Clym remained thinking。 “I almost wish you had not had that party；” he said； “and for other reasons。 But I will tell you in a day or two。 We must think of Tamsin now。”
They lapsed into silence。 “I’ll tell you what；” said Yeobright again； in a tone which showed some slumbering feeling still。 “I don’t think it kind to Tamsin to let her be married like this； and neither of us there to keep up her spirits or care a bit about her。 She hasn’t disgraced herself； or done anything to deserve that。 It is bad enough that the wedding should be so hurried and unceremonious； without our keeping away from it in addition。 Upon my soul； ‘tis almost a shame。 I’ll go。”
“It is over by this time；” said his mother with a sigh；
“unless they were late； or he—“
“Then I shall be soon enough to see them e out。 I don’t quite like your keeping me in ignorance； Mother； after all。 Really； I half hope he has failed to meet her！”
“And ruined her character？”
“Nonsense—that wouldn’t ruin Thomasin。”
He took up his hat and hastily left the house。 Mrs。 Yeobright looked rather unhappy； and sat still； deep in thought。 But she was not long left alone。 A few minutes later Clym came back again； and in his pany came Diggory Venn。
“I find there isn’t time for me to get there；” said Clym。
“Is she married？” Mrs。 Yeobright inquired； turning to the reddleman a face in which a strange strife of wishes； for and against； was apparent。
Venn bowed。 “She is； ma’am。”
“How strange it sounds；” murmured Clym。
“And he didn’t disappoint her this time？” said Mrs。 Yeobright。
“He did not。 And there is now no slight on her name。 I was hastening ath’art to tell you at once； as I saw you were not there。”
“How came you to be there？ How did you know it？” she asked。
“I have been in that neighbourhood for some time； and I saw them go in；” said the reddleman。 “Wildeve came up to the door； punctual as the clock。 I didn’t expect it of him。” He did not add； as he might have added； that how he came to be in that neighbourhood was not by accident； that； since Wildeve’s resumption of his right to Thomasin； Venn； with the thoroughness which was part of his character； had determined to see the end of the episode。
“Who was there？” said Mrs。 Yeobright。
“Nobody hardly。 I stood right out of the way； and she did not see me。” The reddleman spoke huskily； and looked into the garden。
“Who gave her away？”
“Miss Vye。”
“How very remarkable！ Miss Vye！ It is to be considered an honour； I suppose？”
“Who’s Miss Vye？” said Clym。
“Captain Vye’s granddaughter； of Mistover Knap。”
“A proud girl from Budmouth；” said Mrs。 Yeobright。 “One not much to my liking。 People say she’s a witch； but of course that’s absurd。”
The reddleman kept to himself his acquaintance with that fair personage； and also that Eustacia was there because he went to fetch her； in accordance with a promise he had given as soon as he learnt that the marriage was to take place。 He merely said； in continuation of the story
“I was sitting on the churchyard wall when they came up； one from one way； the other from the other； and Miss Vye was walking thereabouts； looking at the headstones。 As soon as they had gone in I went to the door； feeling I should like to see it； as I knew her so well。 I pulled off my boots because they were so noisy； and went up into the gallery。 I saw then that the parson and clerk were already there。”
“How came Miss Vye to have anything to do with it； if she was only on a walk that way？”
“Because there was nobody else。 She had gone into the church just before me； not into the gallery。 The parson looked round before beginning； and as she was the only one near he beckoned to her； and she went up to the rails。 After that； when it came to signing the book； she pushed up her veil and signed； and Tamsin seemed to thank her for her kindness。” The reddleman told the tale thoughtfully for there lingered upon his vision the changing colour of Wildeve； when Eustacia lifted the thick veil which had concealed her from recognition and looked calmly into his face。 “And then；” said Diggory sadly； “I came away； for her history as Tamsin Yeobright was over。”
“I offered to go；” said Mrs。 Yeobright regretfully。
“But she said it was not necessary。”
“Well； it is no matter；” said the reddleman。 “The thing is done at last as it was meant to be at first； and God send her happiness。 Now I’ll wish you good morning。”
He placed his cap on his head and went out。
From that instant of leaving Mrs。 Yeobright’s door； the reddleman was seen no more in or about Egdon Heath for a space of many months。 He vanished entirely。 The nook among the brambles where his van had been standing was as vacant as ever the next morning； and scarcely a sign remained to show that he had been there； excepting a few straws； and a little redness on the turf； which was washed away by the next storm of rain。
The report that Diggory had brought of the wedding； correct as far as it went； was deficient in one significant particular； which had escaped him through his being at some distance back in the church。 When Thomasin was tremblingly engaged in signing her name Wildeve had flung towards Eustacia a glance that said plainly； “I have punished you now。” She had replied in a low tone—and he little thought how truly—“You mistake； it gives me sincerest pleasure to see her your wife today。”
book three
THE FASCINATION
1 … “My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is”
In Clym Yeobright’s face could be dimly seen the typical countenance of the future。 Should there be a classic period to art hereafter； its Pheidias may produce such faces。 The view of life as a thing to be put up with； replacing that zest for existence which was so intense in early civilizations； must ultimately enter so thoroughly into the constitution of the advanced races that its facial expression will bee accepted as a new artistic departure。 People already feel that a man who lives without disturbing a curve of feature； or setting a mark of mental concern anywhere upon himself； is too far removed from modern perceptiveness to be a modern type。 Physically beautiful men—the glory of the race when it was young—are almost an anachronism now； and we may wonder whether； at some time or other； physically beautiful women may not be an anachronism likewise。
The truth seems to be that a long line of disillusive centuries has permanently displaced the Hellenic idea of life； or whatever it may be called。 What the Greeks only suspected we know well； what their Aeschylus imagined our nursery children feel。 That old…fashioned revelling in the general situation grows less and less possible as we uncover the defects of natural laws； and see the quandary that man is in by their operation。
The lineaments which will get embodied in ideals based upon this new recognition will probably be akin to those of Yeobright。 The observer’s eye was arrested； not by his face as a picture； but by his face as a page； not by what it was； but by what it recorded。 His features were attractive in the light of symbols； as sounds intrinsically mon bee attractive in language； and as shapes intrinsically simple bee interesting in writing。
He had been a lad of whom something was expected。 Beyond this all had been chaos。 That he would be successful in an original way； or that he would go to the dogs in an original way； seemed equally probable。 The only absolute certainty about him was that he would not stand still in the circumstances amid which he was born。
Hence； when his name was casually mentioned by neighbouring yeomen； the listener said； “Ah； Clym Yeobright—what is he doing now？” When the instinctive question about a person is； What is he doing？ it is felt that he will be found to be； like most of us； doing nothing in particular。 There is an indefinite sense that he must be invading some region of singularity； good or bad。 The devout hope is that he is doing well。 The secret faith is that he is making a mess of it。 Half a dozen fortable market…men； who were habitual callers at the Quiet Woman as they passed by in their carts； were partial to the topic。 In fact； though they were not Egdon men； they could hardly avoid it while they sucked their long clay tubes and regarded the heath through the window。 Clym had been so inwoven with the heath in his boyhood that hardly anybody could look upon it without thinking of him。 So the subject recurred： if he were making a fortune and a name； so much the better for him； if he were making a tragical figure in the world； so much the better for a narrative。
The fact was that Yeobright’s fame had spread to an awkward extent before he left home。 “It is bad when your fame outruns your means；” said the Spanish Jesuit Gracian。 At the age of six he had asked a Scripture riddle： “Who was the first man known to wear breeches？” and applause had resounded from the very verge of the heath。 At seven he painted the Battle of Waterloo with tiger…lily pollen and black…currant juice； in the absence of water…colours。 By the time he reached twelve he had in this manner been heard of as artist and scholar for at least two miles round。 An individual whose fame spreads three or four thousand yards in the time taken by the fame of others similarly situated to travel six or eight hundred； must of necessity have something in him。 Possibly Clym’s fame； like Homer’s； owed something to the accidents of his situation； nevertheless famous he was。
He grew up and was helped out in life。 That waggery of fate which started Clive as a writing clerk； Gay as a linen…draper； Keats as a surgeon； and a thousand others in a thousand other odd ways； banished the wild and ascetic heath lad to a trade whose sole concern was with the especial symbols of self…indulgence and vainglory。
The details of this choice of a business for him it is not necessary to give。 At the death of his father a neighbouring gentleman had kindly undertaken to give the boy a start； and this assumed the form of sending him to Budmouth。 Yeobright did not wish to go there； but it was the only feasible opening。 Thence he went to London； and thence； shortly after； to Paris； where he had remained till now。
Something being expected of him； he had not been at home many days before a great curiosity as to why he stayed on so long began to arise in the heath。 The natural term of a holiday had passed； yet he still remained。 On the Sunday morning following the week of Thomasin’s marriage a discussion on this subject was in progress at a hair…cutting before Fairway’s house。 Here the local barbering was always done at this hour on this day； to be followed by the great Sunday wash of the inhabitants at noon； which in its turn was followed by the great Sunday dressing an hour later。 On Egdon Heath Sunday proper did not begin till dinner…time； and even then it was a somewhat battered specimen of the day。
These Sunday…morning hair…cuttings were performed by Fairway； the victim sitting on a chopping…block in front of the house； without a coat； and the neighbours gossiping around； idly observing the locks of hair as they rose upon the wind after the snip； and flew away out of sight to the four quarters of the heavens。 Summer and winter the scene was the same； unless the wind were more than usually blusterous； when the stool was shifted a few feet round the corner。 To plain of cold in sitting out of doors； hatless and coatless； while Fairway told true stories between the cuts of the scissors； would have been to pronounce yourself no man at once。 To flinch； exclaim； or move a muscle of the face at the small stabs under the ear received from those instruments； or at scarifications of the neck by the b； would have been thought a gross breach of good manners； considering that Fairway did it all for nothing。 A bleeding about the poll on Sunday afternoons was amply accounted for by the explanation。 “I have had my hair cut； you know。”
The conversation on Yeobright had been started by a distant view of the young man rambling leisurely across the heath before them。
“A man who is doing well elsewhere wouldn’t bide here two or three weeks for nothing；” said Fairway。 “He’s got some project in ‘s head—depend upon that。”
“Well； ‘a can’t keep a diment shop here；” said Sam。
“I don’t see why he should have had them two heavy boxes home if he had not been going to bide； and what there is for him to do here the Lord in heaven knows。”
Before many more surmises could be indulged in Yeobright had e near； and seeing the hair…cutting group he turned aside to join them。 Marching up； and looking critically at their faces for a moment； he said； without introduction； “Now； folks； let me guess what you have been talking about。”
“Ay； sure； if you will；” said Sam。
“About me。”
“Now； it is a thing I shouldn’t have dreamed of doing； otherwise；” said Fairway in a tone of integrity； “but since you have named it； Master Yeobright； I’ll own that we was talking about ‘ee。 We were wondering what could keep you home here mollyhorning about when you have made such a world…wide name for yourself in the nick…nack trade—now； that’s the truth o’t。”
“I’ll tell