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VII. The Morning and the Evening of a Day

           Themorningworeaway.Eleveno’clockstruck—coulditbethattheweddingwastheninprogress?Itmustbeso.Shewentonimaginingthesceneatthechurch,whichhehadbythistimeapproachedwithhisbride.Shepicturedthelittlegroupofchildrenbythegateastheponycarriagedroveupinwhich,asThomasinhadlearnt,theyweregoingtoperformtheshortjourney.Thenshesawthementerandproceedtothechancelandkneel;andtheserviceseemedtogoon.

           Shecoveredherfacewithherhands.“O,itisamistake!”shegroaned.“Andhewillrueitsomeday,andthinkofme!”

           Whilesheremainedthus,overcomebyherforebodings,theoldclockindoorswhizzedforthtwelvestrokes.Soonafter,faintsoundsfloatedtoherearfromafaroverthehills.Thebreezecamefromthatquarter,andithadbroughtwithitthenotesofdistantbells,gailystartingoffinapeal:one,two,three,four,five.TheringersatEastEgdonwereannouncingthenuptialsofEustaciaandherson.

           “Thenitisover,”shemurmured.“Well,well!andlifetoowillbeoversoon.AndwhyshouldIgoonscaldingmyfacelikethis?Cryaboutonethinginlife,cryaboutall;onethreadrunsthroughthewholepiece.Andyetwesay,’atimetolaugh!’”

           TowardseveningWildevecame.SinceThomasin’smarriageMrs.Yeobrighthadshownhimthatgrimfriendlinesswhichatlastarisesinallsuchcasesofundesiredaffinity.Thevisionofwhatoughttohavebeenisthrownasideinsheerweariness,andbrowbeatenhumanendeavourlistlesslymakesthebestofthefactthatis.

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Roboto Lora
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