e measure blessed the result. Perhaps
she would always remain there, he thought, and then he would be as
happy as he had been before. His dread was lest she should think fit
to return to Alderworth, and in that dread his eyes, with all the
inquisitiveness of affection, frequently sought her face when she was
not observing him, as he would have watched the head of a stockdove
to learn if it contemplated flight. Having once really succoured her,
and possibly preserved her from the rashest of acts, he mentally
assumed in addition a guardian's responsibility for her welfare.

For this reason he busily endeavoured to provide her with pleasant
distractions, bringing home curious objects which he found in the
heath, such as white trumpet-shaped mosses, red-headed lichens, stone
arrow-heads used by the old tribes on Egdon, and faceted crystals from
the hollows of flints. These he deposited on the premises in such
positions that she should see them as if by accident.

A week passed, Eustacia never going out of the house. Then she walked
into the enclosed plot and looked through her grandfather's spy-glass,
as she had been in the habit of doing before her marriage. One day
she saw, at a place where the high-road crossed the distant valley,
a heavily laden waggon passing along. It was piled with household
furniture. She looked again and again, and recognized it to be her
own. In the evening her grandfather came indoors with a rumour that
Yeobright had removed that day from Alderworth to the old house at
Blooms-End.

On another occasion when reconnoitring thus she beheld two female
figures walking in the vale. The day was fine and clear; and the
persons not being more than half a mile off she could see their every
detail with the telescope. The woman walking in front carried a white
bundle in her arms, from one end of which hung a long appendage of
drapery; and when the walkers turned, so that the sun fell more
directly upon them, Eustacia could see that the object was a baby.
She called Charley, and asked him if he knew who they were, though
she well guessed.

"Mrs. Wildeve and the nurse-girl," said Charley.

"The nurse is carrying the baby?" said Eustacia.

"No, 'tis Mrs. Wildeve carrying that," he answered, "and the nurse
walks behind carrying nothing."

The lad was in good spirits that day, for the Fifth of November had
again come round, and he was planning yet another scheme to divert
her from her too absorbing though