FARMERS -- A RULE -- IN EXCEPTION
THE first public evidence of Bathsheba's decision tobe a farmer in her own person and by proxy no morewas her appearance the following market-day in. thecornmarket at Casterbridge.The low though extensive hall, supported by beamsand pillars, and latterly dignified by-the name of Corn Ex-change, was thronged with hot men who talked amongeach other in twos and threes, the speaker of the minutelooking sideways into his auditor's face and concentratinghis argument by a contraction of one eyelid during de-livery. The greater number carried in their handsground-ash saplings, using them partly as walking-sticksand partly for poking up pigs, sheep, neighbours withtheir backs turned, and restful things in general, whichseemed to require such treatment in the course of theirperegrinations. During conversations each subjectedhis sapling to great varieties of usage -- bending it roundhis back, forming anarch of it between his two hands,overweighting it on the ground till it reached nearly asemicircle; or perhaps it was hastily tucked under thearm whilst the sample-bag was pulled forth and a hand-ful of corn poured into the palm, which, after criticism,was flung upon the floor, an issue of events perfectlywell known to half-a-dozen acute town-bred fowls whichhad as usual crept into the building unobserved, andwaited the fulfilment of their anticipations with a high-stretched neck and oblique eye.Among these heavy yeomen a feminine figure glided,the single one of her sex that the room contained. Shewas prettily and even daintily dressed. She movedbetween them as a chaise between carts, was heard afterthem as a romance after sermons, was felt among themlike a breeze among furnaces. It had required a littledetermination -- far more than she had at first imagined -- to take up a position here, for at her first entry thelumbering dialogues had ceased, nearly every face hadbeen turned towards her, and those that were alreadyturned rigidly fixed there.Two or three only of the farmers were personallyknown to Bathsheba, and to these she had made herway. But if she was to be the practical woman she hadintended to show herself, business must be carried on,introductions or none, and she ultimately acquired con-fidence enough to speak and reply boldly to men merelyknown to her by hearsay. Bathsheba too had hersample-bags, and by degrees adopted the professionalpour into the hand -- holding up the grains in her narrowpalm for inspection, in perfect Casterbridge manner.Something in the exact arch of her upper unbrokenrow of teeth, and in the keenly pointed corners of herred mouth when, with parted lips, she somewhatdefiantly turned up her face to argue a point with atall man, suggested that there was potentiality enoughin that lithe slip of humanity for alarming exploits ofsex, and daring enough to carry them out. But her eyeshad a softness -- invariably a softness -- which, had theynot been dark, would have seemed mistiness; as theywere, it lowered an expression that might have beenpiercing to simple clearness,Strange to say of a woman in full bloom and vigor,she always allowed her interlocutors to finish their state-ments before rejoining with hers. In arguing on prices,he held to her own firmly, as was natural in a dealer,and reduced theirs persistently, as was inevitable in aoman. But there was an elasticity in her firmnesswhich removed it from obstinacy, as there was a naivetein her cheapening which saved it from meanness.Those of the farmers with whom she had no dealingsby far the greater part) were continually asking eachother, Who is she? The reply would be --Farmer Everdene's niece; took on WeatherburyUpper Farm; turned away the baily, and swears she'll doeverything herself.The other man would then shake his head.Yes, 'tis a pity she's so headstrong. the first wouldsay. But we ought to be proud of her here -- shelightens up the old place. 'Tis such a shapely maid,however, that she'll soon get picked up.It would be ungallant to suggest that the novelty ofher engagement in such an occupation had almost asmuch to do with the magnetism as had the beauty ofher face and movements. However, the interest wasgeneral, and this Saturday's debut in the forum, whateverit may have been to Bathsheba as the buying and sellingfarmer, was unquestionably a triumph to her as themaiden. Indeed, the sensation was so pronounced thather instinct on two or three occasions was merely towalk as a queen among these gods of the fallow, like alittle sister of a little Jove, and to neglect closing pricesaltogether.The numerous evidences of-her power to attract wereonly thrown into greater relief by a marked exception.Women seem to have eyes in their ribbons for suchmatters as these. Bathsheba, without looking withina right angle of him, was conscious of a black sheepamong the flock.It perplexed her first. If there had been a respect-able minority on either side, the case would have beenmost natural. If nobody had regarded her, she wouldhave -- taken the matter indifferently -- such cases hadoccurred. If everybody, this man included, she wouldhave taken it as a matter of course -- people had doneso before. But the smallness of the exception made themystery.She soon knew thus much of the recusant's appear-ance. He was a gentlemanly man, with full anddistinctly outlined Roman features, the prominencesof which glowed in the sun with a bronze-like richnessof tone. He was erect in attitude, and quiet indemeanour. One characteristic pre-eminently markedhim -- dignity.Apparently he had some time ago reached thatentrance to middle age at which a man's aspect naturallyceases to alter for the term of a dozen years or so; and,artificially, a woman't does likewise. Thirty-five andfifty were his limits of variation -- he might have beeneither, or anywhere between the two.It may be said that married men of forty are usuallyready and generous enough to fling passing glances atany specimen of moderate beauty they may discern bythe way. Probably, as with persons playing whist forlove, the consciousness of a certain immunity underany circumstances from that worst possible ultimate,the having to pay, makes them unduly speculative.Bathsheba was convinced that this unmoved personwas not a married man.When marketing was over, she rushed off to Liddy,who was waiting for her -- beside the yellowing in whichthey had driven to town. The horse was put in, andon they trotted Bathsheba's sugar, tea, and draperyparcels being packed behind, and expressing in someindescribable manner, by their colour, shape, andgeneral lineaments, that they were that young lady-farmer's property, and the grocer's and drapers nomore.I've been through it, Liddy, and it is over. I shan'tmind it again, for they will all have grown accustomedto seeing me there; but this morning it was as bad asbeing married -- eyes everywhere!I knowed it would. be. Liddy said Men be sucha terrible class of society to look at a body.But there was one man who had more sense thanto waste his time upon me. The information was putin this form that Liddy might not for a moment supposeher mistress was at all piqued. A very good-lookingman. she continued, upright; about forty, I shouldthink. Do you know at all who he could be?Liddy couldn't think.Can't you guess at all? said Bathsheba with somedisappointment.I haven't a notion besides, 'tis no difference, sincehe 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 justthen, and they bowled along in silence. A low carriage,bowling along still more rapidly behind a horse of un-impeachable 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 daywhen he called.Oh, Farmer Boldwood. murmured Bathsheba, andlooked at him as he outstripped them. The farmer hadnever turned his head once, but with eyes fixed on themost advanced point along the road, passed as uncon-sciously and abstractedly as if Bathsheba and her charmswere thin air.He's an interesting man -- don't you think so? sheremarked.O yes, very. Everybody owns it. replied Liddy.I wonder why he is so wrapt up and indifferent, andseemingly so far away from all he sees around him,It is said -- but not known for certain -- that he metwith some bitter disappointment when he was a youngman and merry. A woman jilted him, they say.People always say that -- and we know very wellwomen 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 elsein the world.Still, 'tis more romantic to think he has been servedcruelly, poor thing'! Perhaps, after all, he has! IDepend upon it he has. O yes, miss, he has!feel he must have.However, we are very apt to think extremes ofpeople. I -- shouldn't wonder after all if it wasn't alittle of both -- just between the two -- rather cruellyused and rather reserved.O dear no, miss -- I can't think it between thetwo!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 thematter with him.
CHAPTER XIII