Eustacia's bosom
disconcerted her husband. It was the first time that he had
confronted the fact of the indirectness of a woman's movement towards
her desire. But his intention was unshaken, though he loved Eustacia
well. All the effect that her remark had upon him was a resolve to
chain himself more closely than ever to his books, so as to be the
sooner enabled to appeal to substantial results from another course
in arguing against her whim.

Next day the mystery of the guineas was explained. Thomasin paid them
a hurried visit, and Clym's share was delivered up to him by her own
hands. Eustacia was not present at the time.

"Then this is what my mother meant," exclaimed Clym. "Thomasin, do
you know that they have had a bitter quarrel?"

There was a little more reticence now than formerly in Thomasin's
manner towards her cousin. It is the effect of marriage to engender
in several directions some of the reserve it annihilates in one.
"Your mother told me," she said quietly. "She came back to my house
after seeing Eustacia."

"The worst thing I dreaded has come to pass. Was mother much
disturbed when she came to you, Thomasin?"

"Yes."

"Very much indeed?"

"Yes."

Clym leant his elbow upon the post of the garden gate, and covered his
eyes with his hand.

"Don't trouble about it, Clym. They may get to be friends."

He shook his head. "Not two people with inflammable natures like
theirs. Well, what must be will be."

"One thing is cheerful in it--the guineas are not lost."

"I would rather have lost them twice over than have had this happen."

Amid these jarring events Yeobright felt one thing to be
indispensable--that he should speedily make some show of progress in
his scholastic plans. With this view he read far into the small hours
during many nights.

One morning, after a severer strain than usual, he awoke with a
strange sensation in his eyes. The sun was shining directly upon the
window-blind, and at his first glance thitherward a sharp pain obliged
him to close his eyelids quickly. At every new attempt to look
about him the same morbid sensibility to light was manifested, and
excoriating tears ran down his cheeks. He was obliged to tie a
bandage over his brow while dressing; and during the day it could not
be abandoned. Eustacia was thoroughly alarmed. On finding that the
case was no better the next morning they decided to send to Anglebury
for a surgeon.

Towards evening he arrived, and