e
intense. Echoes from those past times when they had exchanged tender
words all the day long came like the diffused murmur of a seashore
left miles behind. "Surely," he said, "she might have brought herself
to communicate with me before now, and confess honestly what Wildeve
was to her."
Instead of remaining at home that night he determined to go and see
Thomasin and her husband. If he found opportunity he would allude to
the cause of the separation between Eustacia and himself, keeping
silence, however, on the fact that there was a third person in his
house when his mother was turned away. If it proved that Wildeve was
innocently there he would doubtless openly mention it. If he were
there with unjust intentions Wildeve, being a man of quick feeling,
might possibly say something to reveal the extent to which Eustacia
was compromised.
But on reaching his cousin's house he found that only Thomasin was
at home, Wildeve being at that time on his way towards the bonfire
innocently lit by Charley at Mistover. Thomasin then, as always, was
glad to see Clym, and took him to inspect the sleeping baby, carefully
screening the candlelight from the infant's eyes with her hand.
"Tamsin, have you heard that Eustacia is not with me now?" he said
when they had sat down again.
"No," said Thomasin, alarmed.
"And not that I have left Alderworth?"
"No. I never hear tidings from Alderworth unless you bring them. What
is the matter?"
Clym in a disturbed voice related to her his visit to Susan Nunsuch's
boy, the revelation he had made, and what had resulted from his
charging Eustacia with having wilfully and heartlessly done the deed.
He suppressed all mention of Wildeve's presence with her.
"All this, and I not knowing it!" murmured Thomasin in an awestruck
tone. "Terrible! What could have made her--O, Eustacia! And when you
found it out you went in hot haste to her? Were you too cruel?--or is
she really so wicked as she seems?"
"Can a man be too cruel to his mother's enemy?"
"I can fancy so."
"Very well, then--I'll admit that he can. But now what is to be
done?"
"Make it up again--if a quarrel so deadly can ever be made up. I
almost wish you had not told me. But do try to be reconciled. There
are ways, after all, if you both wish to."
"I don't know that we do both wish to make it up," said Clym. "If she
had wished it, would she not have sent to me by this time?"
"You seem to wish to, and yet you have not
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