IV. The Ministrations of a Half-forgotten One

           Eustacia’sjourneywasatfirstasvagueindirectionasthatofthistledownonthewind.Shedidnotknowwhattodo.Shewishedithadbeennightinsteadofmorning,thatshemightatleasthavebornehermiserywithoutthepossibilityofbeingseen.Tracingmileaftermilealongbetweenthedyingfernsandthewetwhitespiders’webs,sheatlengthturnedherstepstowardshergrandfather’shouse.Shefoundthefrontdoorclosedandlocked.Mechanicallyshewentroundtotheendwherethestablewas,andonlookinginatthestabledoorshesawCharleystandingwithin.

           “CaptainVyeisnotathome?”shesaid.

           “No,ma’am,”saidtheladinaflutteroffeeling;“he’sgonetoWeatherbury,andwon’tbehometillnight.Andtheservantisgonehomeforaholiday.Sothehouseislockedup.”

           Eustacia’sfacewasnotvisibletoCharleyasshestoodatthedoorway,herbackbeingtothesky,andthestablebutindifferentlylighted;butthewildnessofhermannerarrestedhisattention.Sheturnedandwalkedawayacrosstheenclosuretothegate,andwashiddenbythebank.

           WhenshehaddisappearedCharley,withmisgivinginhiseyes,slowlycamefromthestabledoor,andgoingtoanotherpointinthebankhelookedover.Eustaciawasleaningagainstitontheoutside,herfacecoveredwithherhands,andherheadpressingthedewyheatherwhichbeardedthebank’souterside.Sheappearedtobeutterlyindifferenttothecircumstancethatherbonnet,hair,andgarmentswerebecomingwetanddisarrangedbythemoistureofhercold,harshpillow.Clearlysomethingwaswrong.