Far From the Madding Crowd. Томас Харди

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СКАЧАТЬ behind, and expressing in some indescribable manner, by their colour, shape, and general lineaments, that they were that young lady-farmer’s property, and the grocer’s and draper’s no more.

      ‘I’ve been through it, Liddy, and it is over. I shan’t mind it again, for they will all have grown accustomed to seeing me there; but this morning it was as bad as being married – eyes everywhere!’

      ‘I knowed it would be,’ Liddy said. ‘Men be such a terrible class of society to look at a body.’

      ‘But there was one man who had more sense than to waste his time upon me.’ The information was put in this form that Liddy might not for a moment suppose her mistress was at all piqued. ‘A very good-looking man,’ she continued, ‘upright; about forty, I should think. Do you know at all who he could be?’

      Liddy couldn’t think.

      ‘Can’t you guess at all?’ said Bathsheba with some disappointment.

      ‘I haven’t a notion; besides, ’tis no difference, since he took less notice of you than any of the rest. Now, if he’d taken more, it would have mattered a great deal.’

      Bathsheba was suffering from the reverse feeling just then, and they bowled along in silence. A low carriage, bowling along still more rapidly behind a horse of unimpeachable breed, overtook and passed them.

      ‘Why, there he is!’ she said.

      Liddy looked. ‘That! That’s Farmer Boldwood – of course ’tis – the man you couldn’t see the other day when he called.’

      ‘Oh, Farmer Boldwood,’ murmured Bathsheba, and looked at him as he outstripped them. The farmer had never turned his head once, but with eyes fixed on the most advanced point along the road, passed as unconsciously and abstractedly as if Bathsheba and her charms were thin air.

      ‘He’s an interesting man – don’t you think so?’ she remarked.

      ‘O yes, very. Everybody owns it,’ replied Liddy.

      ‘I wonder why he is so wrapt up and indifferent, and seemingly so far away from all he sees around him.’

      ‘It is said – but not known for certain – that he met with some bitter disappointment when he was a young man and merry. A woman jilted him, they say.’

      ‘People always say that – and we know very well women scarcely ever jilt men; ’tis the men who jilt us. I expect it is simply his nature to be so reserved.’

      ‘Simply his nature – I expect so, miss – nothing else in the world.’

      ‘Still, ’tis more romantic to think he has been served cruelly, poor thing! Perhaps, after all, he has.’

      ‘Depend upon it he has. O yes, miss, he has! I feel he must have.’

      ‘However, we are very apt to think extremes of people. I shouldn’t wonder after all if it wasn’t a little of both – just between the two – rather cruelly used and rather reserved.’

      ‘O dear no, miss – I can’t think it between the two!’

      ‘That’s most likely.’

      ‘Well, yes, so it is. I am convinced it is most likely. You may take my word, miss, that that’s what’s the matter with him.’

      Chapter 13

       Sortes sanctorum – The valentine

      It was Sunday afternoon in the farmhouse, on the thirteenth of February. Dinner being over, Bathsheba, for want of a better companion, had asked Liddy to come and sit with her. The mouldy pile was dreary in winter-time before the candles were lighted and the shutters closed; the atmosphere of the place seemed as old as the walls; every nook behind the furniture had a temperature of its own, for the fire was not kindled in this part of the house early in the day; and Bathsheba’s new piano, which was an old one in other annals, looked particularly sloping and out of level on the warped floor before night threw a shade over its less prominent angles and hid the unpleasantness. Liddy, like a little brook, though shallow, was always rippling; her presence had not so much weight as to task thought, and yet enough to exercise it.

      On the table lay an old quarto Bible, bound in leather. Liddy looking at it said, –

      ‘Did you ever find out, miss, who you are going to marry by means of the Bible and key?’

      ‘Don’t be so foolish, Liddy. As if such things could be.’

      ‘Well, there’s a good deal in it, all the same.’

      ‘Nonsense, child.’

      ‘And it makes your heart beat fearful. Some believe in it; some don’t; I do.’

      ‘Very well, let’s try it,’ said Bathsheba, bounding from her seat with that total disregard of consistency which can be indulged in towards a dependant, and entering into the spirit of divination at once. ‘Go and get the front door key.’

      Liddy fetched it. ‘I wish it wasn’t Sunday,’ she said, on returning. ‘Perhaps ’tis wrong.’

      ‘What’s right week days is right Sundays,’ replied her mistress in a tone which was a proof in itself.

      The book was opened – the leaves, drab with age, being quite worn away at much-read verses by the forefingers of unpractised readers in former days, where they were moved along under the line as an aid to the vision. The special verse in the Book of Ruth was sought out by Bathsheba, and the sublime words met her eye. They slightly thrilled and abashed her. It was Wisdom in the abstract facing Folly in the concrete. Folly in the concrete blushed, persisted in her intention, and placed the key on the book. A rusty patch immediately upon the verse, caused by previous pressure of an iron substance thereon, told that this was not the first time the old volume had been used for the purpose.

      ‘Now keep steady, and be silent,’ said Bathsheba.

      The verse was repeated; the book turned round; Bathsheba blushed guiltily.

      ‘Who did you try?’ said Liddy curiously. ‘I shall not tell you.’

      ‘Did you notice Mr Boldwood’s doings in church this morning, miss?’ Liddy continued, adumbrating by the remark the track her thoughts had taken.

      ‘No, indeed,’ said Bathsheba, with serene indifference.

      ‘His pew is exactly opposite yours, miss.’

      ‘I know it.’

      ‘And you did not see his goings on!’

      ‘Certainly I did not, I tell you.’

      Liddy assumed a smaller physiognomy, and shut her lips decisively.

      This move was unexpected, and proportionately disconcerting. ‘What did he do?’ Bathsheba said perforce.

      ‘Didn’t turn his head to look at you once all the service.’

      ‘Why should he?’ again demanded her mistress, wearing a nettled look. СКАЧАТЬ