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LVII. A Foggy Night and Morning—Conclusion

           AnobservermusthavebeenverycloseindeedtodiscoverthattheformsundertheumbrellaswerethoseofOakandBathsheba,arm-in-armforthefirsttimeintheirlives,Oakinagreatcoatextendingtohisknees,andBathshebainacloakthatreachedherclogs.Yet,thoughsoplainlydressed,therewasacertainrejuvenatedappearanceabouther:

           Asthougharoseshouldshutandbeabudagain.

           Reposehadagainincarnadinedhercheeks;andhaving,atGabriel’srequest,arrangedherhairthismorningasshehadwornityearsagoonNorcombeHill,sheseemedinhiseyesremarkablylikeagirlofthatfascinatingdream,which,consideringthatshewasnowonlythreeorfour-and-twenty,wasperhapsnotverywonderful.InthechurchwereTall,Liddy,andtheparson,andinaremarkablyshortspaceoftimethedeedwasdone.

           ThetwosatdownveryquietlytoteainBathsheba’sparlourintheeveningofthesameday,forithadbeenarrangedthatFarmerOakshouldgotheretolive,sincehehadasyetneithermoney,house,norfurnitureworthyofthename,thoughhewasonasurewaytowardsthem,whilstBathshebawas,comparatively,inaplethoraofallthree.

           JustasBathshebawaspouringoutacupoftea,theirearsweregreetedbythefiringofacannon,followedbywhatseemedlikeatremendousblowingoftrumpets,inthefrontofthehouse.

           "There!"saidOak,laughing,"Iknewthosefellowswereuptosomething,bythelookontheirfaces"

           Oaktookupthelightandwentintotheporch,followedbyBathshebawithashawloverherhead.

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