Adam Bede
Chapter XXXIII
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THE barley was all carried at last, and the harvest suppers went bywithout waiting for the dismal black crop of beans. The apples andnuts were gathered and stored; the scent of whey departed from thefarm-houses, and the scent of brewing came in its stead. The woodsbehind the Chase, and all the hedgerow trees, took on a solemn splendourunder the dark low-hanging skies. Michaelmas was come, with its fragrantbasketfuls of purple damsons, and its paler purple daisies, and itslads and lasses leaving or seeking service and winding along betweenthe yellow hedges, with their bundles under their arms. But thoughMichaelmas was come, Mr. Thurle, that desirable tenant, did not come tothe Chase Farm, and the old squire, after all, had been obliged to putin a new bailiff. It was known throughout the two parishes that thesquire's plan had been frustrated because the Poysers had refused tobe "put upon," and Mrs. Poyser's outbreak was discussed in allthe farm-houses with a zest which was only heightened by frequentrepetition. The news that "Bony" was come back from Egypt wascomparatively insipid, and the repulse of the French in Italy wasnothing to Mrs. Poyser's repulse of the old squire. Mr. Irwine had hearda version of it in every parishioner's house, with the one exception ofthe Chase. But since he had always, with marvellous skill, avoided anyquarrel with Mr. Donnithorne, he could not allow himself the pleasureof laughing at the old gentleman's discomfiture with any one besides hismother, who declared that if she were rich she should like to allow Mrs.Poyser a pension for life, and wanted to invite her to the parsonagethat she might hear an account of the scene from Mrs. Poyser's own lips.
"No, no, Mother," said Mr. Irwine; "it was a little bit of irregularjustice on Mrs. Poyser's part, but a magistrate like me must notcountenance irregular justice. There must be no report spread that Ihave taken notice of the quarrel, else I shall lose the little goodinfluence I have over the old man."
"Well, I like that woman even better than her cream-cheeses," said Mrs.Irwine. "She has the spirit of three men, with that pale face of hers.And she says such sharp things too."
"Sharp! Yes, her tongue is like a new-set razor. She's quite originalin her talk too; one of those untaught wits that help to stock a countrywith proverbs. I told you that capital thing I heard her say aboutCraig--that he was like a cock, who thought the sun had risen to hearhim crow. Now that's an AEsop's fable in a sentence."
"But it will be a bad business if the old gentleman turns them out ofthe farm next Michaelmas, eh?" said Mrs. Irwine.
"Oh, that must not be; and Poyser is such a good tenant that Donnithorneis likely to think twice, and digest his spleen rather than turn themout. But if he should give them notice at Lady Day, Arthur and I mustmove heaven and earth to mollify him. Such old parishioners as they aremust not go."
"Ah, there's no knowing what may happen before Lady day," said Mrs.Irwine. "It struck me on Arthur's birthday that the old man was a littleshaken: he's eighty-three, you know. It's really an unconscionable age.It's only women who have a right to live as long as that."
"When they've got old-bachelor sons who would be forlorn without them,"said Mr. Irwine, laughing, and kissing his mother's hand.
Mrs. Poyser, too, met her husband's occasional forebodings of a noticeto quit with "There's no knowing what may happen before Lady day"--oneof those undeniable general propositions which are usually intended toconvey a particular meaning very far from undeniable. But it is reallytoo hard upon human nature that it should be held a criminal offence toimagine the death even of the king when he is turned eighty-three. It isnot to be believed that any but the dullest Britons can be good subjectsunder that hard condition.
Apart from this foreboding, things went on much as usual in the Poyserhousehold. Mrs. Poyser thought she noticed a surprising improvementin Hetty. To be sure, the girl got "closer tempered, and sometimes sheseemed as if there'd be no drawing a word from her with cart-ropes,"but she thought much less about her dress, and went after the work quiteeagerly, without any telling. And it was wonderful how she never wantedto go out now--indeed, could hardly be persuaded to go; and she boreher aunt's putting a stop to her weekly lesson in fine-work at the Chasewithout the least grumbling or pouting. It must be, after all, that shehad set her heart on Adam at last, and her sudden freak of wanting tobe a lady's maid must have been caused by some little pique ormisunderstanding between them, which had passed by. For whenever Adamcame to the Hall Farm, Hetty seemed to be in better spirits and to talkmore than at other times, though she was almost sullen when Mr. Craig orany other admirer happened to pay a visit there.
Adam himself watched her at first with trembling anxiety, which gaveway to surprise and delicious hope. Five days after delivering Arthur'sletter, he had ventured to go to the Hall Farm again--not withoutdread lest the sight of him might be painful to her. She was not in thehouse-place when he entered, and he sat talking to Mr. and Mrs. Poyserfor a few minutes with a heavy fear on his heart that they mightpresently tell him Hetty was ill. But by and by there came a light stepthat he knew, and when Mrs. Poyser said, "Come, Hetty, where have youbeen?" Adam was obliged to turn round, though he was afraid to see thechanged look there must be in her face. He almost started when he sawher smiling as if she were pleased to see him--looking the same as everat a first glance, only that she had her cap on, which he had never seenher in before when he came of an evening. Still, when he looked ather again and again as she moved about or sat at her work, there was achange: the cheeks were as pink as ever, and she smiled as much as shehad ever done of late, but there was something different in her eyes,in the expression of her face, in all her movements, Adamthought--something harder, older, less child-like. "Poor thing!" hesaid to himself, "that's allays likely. It's because she's had her firstheartache. But she's got a spirit to bear up under it. Thank God forthat."
As the weeks went by, and he saw her always looking pleased to seehim--turning up her lovely face towards him as if she meant him tounderstand that she was glad for him to come--and going about her workin the same equable way, making no sign of sorrow, he began to believethat her feeling towards Arthur must have been much slighter than he hadimagined in his first indignation and alarm, and that she had been ableto think of her girlish fancy that Arthur was in love with her and wouldmarry her as a folly of which she was timely cured. And it perhaps was,as he had sometimes in his more cheerful moments hoped it would be--herheart was really turning with all the more warmth towards the man sheknew to have a serious love for her.
Possibly you think that Adam was not at all sagacious in hisinterpretations, and that it was altogether extremely unbecoming in asensible man to behave as he did--falling in love with a girl who reallyhad nothing more than her beauty to recommend her, attributing imaginaryvirtues to her, and even condescending to cleave to her after she hadfallen in love with another man, waiting for her kind looks as a patienttrembling dog waits for his master's eye to be turned upon him. But inso complex a thing as human nature, we must consider, it is hard to findrules without exceptions. Of course, I know that, as a rule, sensiblemen fall in love with the most sensible women of their acquaintance,see through all the pretty deceits of coquettish beauty, never imaginethemselves loved when they are not loved, cease loving on allproper occasions, and marry the woman most fitted for them in everyrespect--indeed, so as to compel the approbation of all the maidenladies in their neighbourhood. But even to this rule an exception willoccur now and then in the lapse of centuries, and my friend Adam wasone. For my own part, however, I respect him none the less--nay, I thinkthe deep love he had for that sweet, rounded, blossom-like, dark-eyedHetty, of whose inward self he was really very ignorant, came out of thevery strength of his nature and not out of any inconsistent weakness. Isit any weakness, pray, to be wrought on by exquisite music? To feel itswondrous harmonies searching the subtlest windings of your soul, thedelicate fibres of life where no memory can penetrate, and bindingtogether your whole being past and present in one unspeakable vibration,melting you in one moment with all the tendernes
s, all the love that hasbeen scattered through the toilsome years, concentrating in oneemotion of heroic courage or resignation all the hard-learnt lessons ofself-renouncing sympathy, blending your present joy with past sorrow andyour present sorrow with all your past joy? If not, then neither is ita weakness to be so wrought upon by the exquisite curves of a woman'scheek and neck and arms, by the liquid depths of her beseeching eyes, orthe sweet childish pout of her lips. For the beauty of a lovely woman islike music: what can one say more? Beauty has an expression beyond andfar above the one woman's soul that it clothes, as the words of geniushave a wider meaning than the thought that prompted them. It is morethan a woman's love that moves us in a woman's eyes--it seems to be afar-off mighty love that has come near to us, and made speech for itselfthere; the rounded neck, the dimpled arm, move us by something morethan their prettiness--by their close kinship with all we have knownof tenderness and peace. The noblest nature sees the most of thisimpersonal expression in beauty (it is needless to say that there aregentlemen with whiskers dyed and undyed who see none of it whatever),and for this reason, the noblest nature is often the most blinded tothe character of the one woman's soul that the beauty clothes. Whence, Ifear, the tragedy of human life is likely to continue for a long timeto come, in spite of mental philosophers who are ready with the bestreceipts for avoiding all mistakes of the kind.
Our good Adam had no fine words into which he could put his feeling forHetty: he could not disguise mystery in this way with the appearance ofknowledge; he called his love frankly a mystery, as you have heard him.He only knew that the sight and memory of her moved him deeply, touchingthe spring of all love and tenderness, all faith and courage withinhim. How could he imagine narrowness, selfishness, hardness in her?He created the mind he believed in out of his own, which was large,unselfish, tender.
The hopes he felt about Hetty softened a little his feeling towardsArthur. Surely his attentions to Hetty must have been of a slight kind;they were altogether wrong, and such as no man in Arthur's positionought to have allowed himself, but they must have had an air ofplayfulness about them, which had probably blinded him to their dangerand had prevented them from laying any strong hold on Hetty's heart. Asthe new promise of happiness rose for Adam, his indignation and jealousybegan to die out. Hetty was not made unhappy; he almost believed thatshe liked him best; and the thought sometimes crossed his mind that thefriendship which had once seemed dead for ever might revive in the daysto come, and he would not have to say "good-bye" to the grand old woods,but would like them better because they were Arthur's. For this newpromise of happiness following so quickly on the shock of pain had anintoxicating effect on the sober Adam, who had all his life been used tomuch hardship and moderate hope. Was he really going to have an easylot after all? It seemed so, for at the beginning of November, JonathanBurge, finding it impossible to replace Adam, had at last made up hismind to offer him a share in the business, without further conditionthan that he should continue to give his energies to it and renounceall thought of having a separate business of his own. Son-in-law or noson-in-law, Adam had made himself too necessary to be parted with,and his headwork was so much more important to Burge than his skillin handicraft that his having the management of the woods made littledifference in the value of his services; and as to the bargains aboutthe squire's timber, it would be easy to call in a third person. Adamsaw here an opening into a broadening path of prosperous work such as hehad thought of with ambitious longing ever since he was a lad: he mightcome to build a bridge, or a town hall, or a factory, for he had alwayssaid to himself that Jonathan Burge's building business was like anacorn, which might be the mother of a great tree. So he gave his handto Burge on that bargain, and went home with his mind full of happyvisions, in which (my refined reader will perhaps be shocked when Isay it) the image of Hetty hovered, and smiled over plans for seasoningtimber at a trifling expense, calculations as to the cheapening ofbricks per thousand by water-carriage, and a favourite scheme for thestrengthening of roofs and walls with a peculiar form of iron girder.What then? Adam's enthusiasm lay in these things; and our love isinwrought in our enthusiasm as electricity is inwrought in the air,exalting its power by a subtle presence.
Adam would be able to take a separate house now, and provide for hismother in the old one; his prospects would justify his marrying verysoon, and if Dinah consented to have Seth, their mother would perhapsbe more contented to live apart from Adam. But he told himself that hewould not be hasty--he would not try Hetty's feeling for him until ithad had time to grow strong and firm. However, tomorrow, after church,he would go to the Hall Farm and tell them the news. Mr. Poyser, heknew, would like it better than a five-pound note, and he should see ifHetty's eyes brightened at it. The months would be short with all he hadto fill his mind, and this foolish eagerness which had come over him oflate must not hurry him into any premature words. Yet when he got homeand told his mother the good news, and ate his supper, while she satby almost crying for joy and wanting him to eat twice as much as usualbecause of this good-luck, he could not help preparing her gently forthe coming change by talking of the old house being too small for themall to go on living in it always.