Page 13 of Far from the Madding Crowd

SORTES SANCTORUM -- THE VALENTINE

IT was Sunday afternoon in the farmhouse, on thethirteenth of February. Dinner being over, Bathsheba,for want of a better companion, had asked Liddy tocome and sit with her. The mouldy pile was drearyin winter-time before the candles were lighted and theshutters closed; the atmosphere of the place seemedas old as the walls; every nook behind the furniturehad a temperature of its own, for the fire was notkindled in this part of the house early in the day;and Bathsheba's new piano, which was an old onein other annals, looked particularly sloping and outof level on the warped floor before night threw ashade over its less prominent angles and hid theunpleasantness. Liddy, like a little brook, thoughshallow, was always rippling; her presence had not somuch weight as to task thought, and yet enough toexercise it.On the table lay an old quarto Bible, bound inleather. Liddy looking at it said, --”Did you ever find out, miss, who you are going tomarry by means of the Bible and key?,”Don't be so foolish, Liddy. As if such thingscould be.””Well, there's a good deal in it, all the same.””Nonsense, child.””And it makes your heart beat fearful. Some believein it; some don't; I do.””Very well, let's try it.” said Bathsheba, boundingfrom her seat with that total disregard of consistencywhich can be indulged in towards a dependent, andentering into the spirit of divination at once. ”Go andget the front door key.”Liddy fetched it. ”I wish it wasn't Sunday.” shesaid, on returning.” Perhaps 'tis wrong.””What's right week days is right Sundays.” replied hermistress 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 fore”fingers ”of unpractised readers in former days, where theywere moved along under the line as an aid to the vision.The special verse in the Book of Ruth was sought outby Bathsheba, and the sublime words met her eye. Theyslightly thrilled and abashed her. It was Wisdom inthe abstract facing Folly in the concrete. Folly in theconcrete blushed, persisted in her intention, and placedthe key on -the book. A rusty patch immediately uponthe verse, caused by previous pressure of an ironsubstance thereon, told that this was not the first timethe 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 churchthis morning, miss?”Liddy continued, adumbrating bythe 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 shuther 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 theservice.”Why should he?” again demanded her mistress,wearing a nettled look. ”I didn't ask him to.”Oh no. But everybody else was noticing you; andit was odd he didn't. There, 'tis like him. Rich andgentlemanly, what does he care?”Bathsheba dropped into a silence intended to ex-press that she had opinions on the matter too abstrusefor Liddy's comprehension, rather than that she hadnothing to say.”Dear me -- I had nearly forgotten the valentineI bought yesterday.” she exclaimed at length.”Valentine! who for, miss?” said Liddy. ”FarmerBoldwood?”It was the single name among all possible wrongones that just at this moment seemed to Bathshebamore pertinent than the right.”Well, no. It is only for little Teddy Coggan.have promised him something, and this will be a prettysurprise for him. Liddy, you may as well bring memy desk and I'll direct it at once.”Bathsheba took from her desk a gorgeously illumin-ated and embossed design in post-octavo, which hadbeen ”bought on the previous market-day at the chiefstationer's in Casterbridge. In the centre was a smalloval enclosure; this was left blank, that the sendermight insert tender words more appropriate to thespecial occasion than any generalities by a printercould possibly be.”Here's a place for writing.” said Bathsheba. ”Whatshall I put?””Something of this sort, I should think', returnedLiddy promptly: --”The rose is red, The violet blue, Carnation's sweet, And so are you.””Yes, that shall be it. It just suits itself to a chubby-faced child like him.” said Bathsheba. She inserted thewords in a small though legible handwriting; enclosedthe sheet in an envelope, and dipped her pen for thedirection.”What fun it would be to send it to the stupid oldBoldwood, and how he would wonder!” said theirrepressible Liddy, lifting her eyebrows, and indulgingin an awful mirth on the verge of fear as she thoughtof the moral and social magnitude of the man contem-plated.Bathsheba paused to regard the idea at full length.Boldwood's had begun to be a troublesome image -- aspecies of Daniel in her kingdom who persisted inkneeling eastward when reason and common sensesaid that he might just as well follow suit with therest, and afford her the official glance of admirationwhich cost nothing at all. She was far from beingseriously concerned about his nonconformity. Still,it was faintly depressing that the most dignified andvaluable man in the parish should withhold his eyes,and that a girl like Liddy should talk about it. SoLiddy's idea was at first rather harassing than piquant.”No, I won't do that. He wouldn't see any humourin it.””He'd worry to death.” said the persistent Liddy.”Really, I don't care particularly to send it toTeddy.” remarked her mistress. ”He's rather a naughtychild sometimes.””Yes -- that he is.””Let's toss as men do.” said Bathsheba, idly. ”Nowthen, head, Boldwood; tail, Teddy. No, we won't tossmoney on a Sunday that would be tempting the devilindeed.””Toss this hymn-book; there can't be no sinfulnessin that, miss.””Very well. Open, Boldwood -- shut, Teddy. No;it's more likely to fall open. Open, Teddy -- shut,Boldwood.”The book went fluttering in the air and came down shut.Bathsheba, a small yawn upon her mouth, took thepen, and with off-hand serenity directed the missive toBoldwood.”Now light a candle, Liddy. Which seal shall weuse? Here's a unicorn's head -- there's nothing inthat. What's this? -- two doves -- no. It ought to besomething extraordinary, ought it not, Liddy? Here'sone with a motto -- I remember it is some funny one,but I can't read it. We'll try this, and if it doesn'tdo we'll have another.”A large red seal was duly affixed. Bathsheba lookedclosely at the hot wax to discover the words.”Capital!” she exclaimed, throwing down the letterfrolicsomely. ”'Twould upset the solemnity of a parsonThe same evening the letter was sent, and was dulyreturned to Weatherbury again in the morning.Of love as a spectacle Bathsheba had a fair knowledge;but of love subjectively she knew nothing.



CHAPTER XIV