The Woodlanders - Page 174/314

"I'll walk with you to the hill if you are not in a great hurry," she

said, rather loath, after all, to let him go.

"Do; there's plenty of time," replied her husband. Accordingly he led

along the horse, and walked beside her, impatient enough nevertheless.

Thus they proceeded to the turnpike road, and ascended Rub-Down Hill to

the gate he had been leaning over when she surprised him ten days

before. This was the end of her excursion. Fitzpiers bade her adieu

with affection, even with tenderness, and she observed that he looked

weary-eyed.

"Why do you go to-night?" she said. "You have been called up two

nights in succession already."

"I must go," he answered, almost gloomily. "Don't wait up for me."

With these words he mounted his horse, passed through the gate which

Grace held open for him, and ambled down the steep bridle-track to the

valley.

She closed the gate and watched his descent, and then his journey

onward. His way was east, the evening sun which stood behind her back

beaming full upon him as soon as he got out from the shade of the hill.

Notwithstanding this untoward proceeding she was determined to be loyal

if he proved true; and the determination to love one's best will carry

a heart a long way towards making that best an ever-growing thing. The

conspicuous coat of the active though blanching mare made horse and

rider easy objects for the vision. Though Darling had been chosen with

such pains by Winterborne for Grace, she had never ridden the sleek

creature; but her husband had found the animal exceedingly convenient,

particularly now that he had taken to the saddle, plenty of staying

power being left in Darling yet. Fitzpiers, like others of his

character, while despising Melbury and his station, did not at all

disdain to spend Melbury's money, or appropriate to his own use the

horse which belonged to Melbury's daughter.

And so the infatuated young surgeon went along through the gorgeous

autumn landscape of White Hart Vale, surrounded by orchards lustrous

with the reds of apple-crops, berries, and foliage, the whole

intensified by the gilding of the declining sun. The earth this year

had been prodigally bountiful, and now was the supreme moment of her

bounty. In the poorest spots the hedges were bowed with haws and

blackberries; acorns cracked underfoot, and the burst husks of

chestnuts lay exposing their auburn contents as if arranged by anxious

sellers in a fruit-market. In all this proud show some kernels were

unsound as her own situation, and she wondered if there were one world

in the universe where the fruit had no worm, and marriage no sorrow.