III. The First Act in a Timeworn Drama

           Theafternoonwasfine,andYeobrightwalkedontheheathforanhourwithhismother.WhentheyreachedtheloftyridgewhichdividedthevalleyofBlooms-Endfromtheadjoiningvalleytheystoodstillandlookedround.TheQuietWomanInnwasvisibleonthelowmarginoftheheathinonedirection,andafarontheotherhandroseMistoverKnap.

           “YoumeantocallonThomasin?”heinquired.

           “Yes.Butyouneednotcomethistime,”saidhismother.

           “InthatcaseI’llbranchoffhere,Mother.IamgoingtoMistover.”

           Mrs.Yeobrightturnedtohiminquiringly.

           “Iamgoingtohelpthemgetthebucketoutofthecaptain’swell,”hecontinued.“AsitissoverydeepImaybeuseful.AndIshouldliketoseethisMissVye—notsomuchforhergoodlooksasforanotherreason.”

           “Mustyougo?”hismotherasked.

           “Ithoughtto.”

           Andtheyparted.“Thereisnohelpforit,”murmuredClym’smothergloomilyashewithdrew.“Theyaresuretoseeeachother.IwishSamwouldcarryhisnewstootherhousesthanmine.”

           Clym’sretreatingfiguregotsmallerandsmallerasitroseandfelloverthehillocksonhisway.“Heistender-hearted,”saidMrs.Yeobrighttoherselfwhileshewatchedhim;“otherwiseitwouldmatterlittle.Howhe’sgoingon!”

           Hewas,indeed,walkingwithawilloverthefurze,asstraightasaline,asifhislifedependeduponit.Hismotherdrewalongbreath,and,abandoningthevisittoThomasin,turnedback.