Page 9 of Far from the Madding Crowd

THE HOMESTEAD -- A VISITOR -- HALF-CONFIDENCES

By daylight, the Bower of Oak's new-found mistress,Bathsheba Everdene, presented itself as a hoary build-ing, of the early stage of Classic Renaissance as regardsits architecture, and of 'a proportion which told at aglance that, as is so frequently the case, it had oncebeen the memorial hall upon a small estate around it,now altogether effaced as a distinct property, and mergedin the vast tract of a non-resident landlord, which com-prised several such modest demesnes.Fluted pilasters, worked from the solid stone,decorated its front, and above the roof the chimneyswere panelled or columnar, some coped gables withfinials and like features still retaining traces of theirGothic extraction. Soft Brown mosses, like fadedvelveteen, formed cushions upon the stone tiling, andtufts of the houseleek or sengreen sprouted from theeaves of the low surrounding buildings. A gravel walkleading from the door to the road in front was encrustedat the sides with more moss -- here it was a silver-greenvariety, the nut-brown of the gravel being visible to thewidth of only a foot or two in the centre. This circum-stance, and the generally sleepy air of the whole prospecthere, together with the animated and contrasting stateof the reverse facade, suggested to the imagination thaton the adaptation of the building for farming purposesthe vital principle' of the house had turned round insideits body to face the other way. Reversals of this kind,strange deformities, tremendous paralyses, are often seento be inflicted by trade upon edifices -- either individualor in the aggregate as streets and towns -- which wereoriginally planned for pleasure alone. Lively voices were heard this morning in the upperrooms, the main staircase to which was of hard oak, thebalusters, heavy as bed-posts, being turned and mouldedin the quaint fashion of their century, the handrail asstout as a parapet-top, and the stairs themselves con-tinually twisting round like a person trying to look overhis shoulder. Going up, the floors above were foundto have a very irregular surface, rising to ridges, sinkinginto valley; and being just then uncarpeted, the faceof the boards was seen to be eaten into innumerablethe opening and shutting of every door a tremblefollowed every bustling movement, and a creak accom-panied a walker about the house like a spirit, wherever-he went. In the room from which the conversation proceeded,Bathsheba and her servant-companion, Liddy Small-bury were to be discovered sitting upon the floor, andsorting a complication of papers, books, bottles, andrubbish spread out thereon -- remnants from the house-hold stores of the late occupier. Liddy, the maltster'sgreat-granddaughter, was about Bathsheba's equal inage, and her face was a prominent advertisement of thefeatures' might have lacked in form was amply made upfor by perfection of hue, which at this winter-time wasthe softened ruddiness on a surface of high rotundityand, like the presentations of those great colourists, itwas a face which kept well back from the boundarybetween comeliness and the ideal. Though elastic innature she was less daring than Bathsheba, and occa-sionally showed some earnestness, which consisted halfof genuine feeling, and half of mannerliness superaddedby way of duty. Through a partly-opened door the noise of a scrubbing-brush led up to the charwoman, Maryann Money, a personwho for a face had a circular disc, furrowed less by agethan by long gazes of perplexity at distant objects. Tothink of her was to get good-humoured; to speak ofher was to raise the image of a dried Normandypippin. ”Stop your scrubbing a moment.” said Bathshebathrough the door to her. ”I hear something.” Maryann suspended the brush. The tramp of a horse was apparent, approaching thefront of the building. The paces slackened, turned inat the wicket, and, what was most unusual, came upthe mossy path close to the door. The door wastapped with the end of a crop or stick. ”What impertinence!” said Liddy, in a low voice.”To ride up the footpath like that! Why didn't hestop at the gate? Lord! 'Tis a gentleman! I see thetop of his hat.” ”Be quiet!” said Bathsheba. The further expression of Liddy's concern was con-tinued by aspect instead of narrative. ”Why doesn't Mrs. Coggan go to the door?” Bath-sheba continued. Rat-tat-tat-tat, resounded more decisively from Bath-sheba's oak. ”Maryann, you go!” said she, fluttering under theonset of a crowd of romantic possibilities. ”O ma'am -- see, here's a mess!” The argument was unanswerable after a glance atMaryann. ”Liddy -- you must.” said Bathsheba. Liddy held up her hands and arms, coated with dustfrom the rubbish they were sorting, and looked implor-ingly at her mistress. ”There -- Mrs. Coggan is going!” said Bathsheba,exhaling her relief in the form of a long breath whichhad lain in her bosom a minute or more. The door opened, and a deep voice said -- ”Is Miss Everdene at home?” ”I'll see, sir.” said Mrs. Coggan, and in a minuteappeared in the room. ”Dear, what a thirtover place this world is!” con-tinued Mrs. Coggan (a wholesome-looking lady whohad a voice for each class of remark according to theemotion involved; who could toss a pancake or twirla mop with the accuracy of pure mathematics, andwho at this moment showed hands shaggy with frag-ments of dough and arms encrusted with flour). ”Iam never up to my elbows, Miss, in making a puddingbut one of two things do happen -- either my nose mustneeds begin tickling, and I can't live without scratching A woman's dress being a part of her countenance,and any disorder in the one being of the same naturewith a malformation or wound in the other, Bathshebasaid at once -- ”I can't see him in this state. Whatever shall I do?” Not-at-homes were hardly naturalized in Weatherburyfarmhouses, so Liddy suggested -- ”Say you're a frightwith dust, and can't come down.” ”Yes -- that sounds very well.” said Mrs. Coggan,critically. ”Say I can't see him -- that will do.” Mrs. Coggan went downstairs, and returned theanswer as requested, adding, however, on her ownresponsibility, ”Miss is dusting bottles, sir, and is quitea object -- that's why 'tis.” ”Oh, very well.” said the deep voice.” indifferently.”All I wanted to ask was, if anything had been heardof Fanny Robin?” ”Nothing, sir -- but we may know to-night. WilliamSmallbury is gone to Casterbridge, where her youngman lives, as is supposed, and the other men be inquir-ing about everywhere.” The horse's tramp then recommenced and -retreated,and the door closed. ”Who is Mr. Boldwood?” said Bathsheba. ”A gentleman-farmer at Little Weatherbury.” ”Married?” ”No, miss.” ”How old is he?” ”Forty, I should say -- very handsome -- rather stern-looking -- and rich.” ”What a bother this dusting is! I am always insome unfortunate plight or other,” Bathsheba said,complainingly. ”Why should he inquire about Fanny?” ”Oh, because, as she had no friends in her childhood,he took her and put her to school, and got her herplace here under your uncle. He's a very kind manthat way, but Lord -- there!” ”What?” ”Never was such a hopeless man for a woman!He's been courted by sixes and sevens -- all the girls,gentle and simple, for miles round, have tried him. JanePerkins worked at him for two months like a slave,and the two Miss Taylors spent a year upon him,and he cost Farmer Ives's daughter nights of tearsand twenty pounds' worth of new clothes; but Lord --the money might as well have been thrown out of thewindow.” A little boy came up at this moment and looked inupon them. This child was one of the Coggans who,with the Smallburys, were as common among thefamilies of this district as the Avons and Derwentsamong our rivers. He always had a loosened tooth ora cut finger to show to particular friends, which he didwith an air of being thereby elevated above the commonherd of afflictionless humanity -- to which exhibitionof congratulation as well as pity. ”I've got a pen-nee!” said Master Coggan in ascanning measure. ”Well -- who gave it you, Teddy?” said Liddy. ”Mis-terr Bold-wood! He gave it to me for openingthe gate.” ”What did he say?” ”He said ”Where are you going, my little man?'”and I said, ”To Miss Everdene's please,” and he said,”She is a staid woman, isn't she, my little man?” andI said, ”Yes.” ”You naughty child! What did you say that for?” ”Cause he gave me the penny!” ”What a pucker everything is in!” said Bathsheba,discontentedly when the child had gone. 'Get away,thing! You ought to be married by this time, and nothere troubling me!” ”Ay, mistress -- so I did. But what between the poormen I won't have, and the rich men who won't have me,I stand as a pelicon in the wilderness!” ”Did anybody ever want to marry you miss?” Liddyventured to ask when they were again alone. ”Lots of”em, i daresay.?” Bathsheba paused, as if about to refuse a reply, butthe temptation to say yes, since it was really in herpower was irresistible by aspiring virginity, in spite ofher spleen at having been published as old. ”A man wanted to once.” she said, in a highly experi-enced tone and the image of Gabriel Oak, as the farmer,rose before her. ”How nice it must seem!” said Liddy, with the fixedfeatures of mental realization. ”And you wouldn't havehim?” ”He wasn't quite good enough for me.” ”How sweet to be able to disdain, when most of usare glad to say, ”Thank you!” I seem I hear it.”No, sir -- I'm your better.” or ”Kiss my foot, sir; myface is for mouths of consequence.” And did you lovehim, miss?” ”Oh, no. But I rather liked him.” ”Do you now?” ”Of course not -- what footsteps are those I hear?” Liddy looked from a back window into the courtyardbehind, which was now getting low-toned and dim withthe earliest films of night. A crooked file of men wasapproaching the back door. The whole string of trailingindividuals advanced in the completest balance of inten-tion, like the remarkable creatures known as ChainSalpae, which, distinctly organized in other respects, haveone will common to a whole family. Some were, asusual, in snow-white smock-frocks of Russia duck, andsome in whitey-brown ones of drabbet -- marked on thewrists, breasts, backs, and sleeves with honeycomb-work.Two or three women in pattens brought up the rear. ”The Philistines be upon us.” said Liddy, making hernose white against the glass. ”Oh, very well. Maryann, go down and keep themin the kitchen till I am dressed, and then show them into me in the hall.”



CHAPTER X