The Return of the Native

  III

  The Serious Discourse of Clym with His Cousin

  Throughout this period Yeobright had more or less pondered on his dutyto his cousin Thomasin. He could not help feeling that it would be apitiful waste of sweet material if the tender-natured thing should bedoomed from this early stage of her life onwards to dribble away herwinsome qualities on lonely gorse and fern. But he felt this as aneconomist merely, and not as a lover. His passion for Eustacia hadbeen a sort of conserve of his whole life, and he had nothing more ofthat supreme quality left to bestow. So far the obvious thing was notto entertain any idea of marriage with Thomasin, even to oblige her.

  But this was not all. Years ago there had been in his mother's minda great fancy about Thomasin and himself. It had not positivelyamounted to a desire, but it had always been a favourite dream. Thatthey should be man and wife in good time, if the happiness of neitherwere endangered thereby, was the fancy in question. So that whatcourse save one was there now left for any son who reverenced hismother's memory as Yeobright did? It is an unfortunate fact that anyparticular whim of parents, which might have been dispersed by halfan hour's conversation during their lives, becomes sublimated bytheir deaths into a fiat the most absolute, with such results toconscientious children as those parents, had they lived, would havebeen the first to decry.

  Had only Yeobright's own future been involved he would have proposedto Thomasin with a ready heart. He had nothing to lose by carryingout a dead mother's hope. But he dreaded to contemplate Thomasinwedded to the mere corpse of a lover that he now felt himself to be.He had but three activities alive in him. One was his almost dailywalk to the little graveyard wherein his mother lay; another, hisjust as frequent visits by night to the more distant enclosure, whichnumbered his Eustacia among its dead; the third was self-preparationfor a vocation which alone seemed likely to satisfy his cravings--thatof an itinerant preacher of the eleventh commandment. It wasdifficult to believe that Thomasin would be cheered by a husband withsuch tendencies as these.

  Yet he resolved to ask her, and let her decide for herself. It waseven with a pleasant sense of doing his duty that he went downstairsto her one evening for this purpose, when the sun was printing on thevalley the same long shadow of the housetop that he had seen lyingthere times out of number while his mother lived.

  Thomasin was not in her room, and he found her in the front garden."I have long been wanting, Thomasin," he began, "to say somethingabout a matter that concerns both our futures."

  "And you are going to say it now?" she remarked quickly, colouring asshe met his gaze. "Do stop a minute, Clym, and let me speak first,for oddly enough, I have been wanting to say something to you."

  "By all means say on, Tamsie."

  "I suppose nobody can overhear us?" she went on, casting her eyesaround and lowering her voice. "Well, first you will promise methis--that you won't be angry and call me anything harsh if youdisagree with what I propose?"

  Yeobright promised, and she continued: "What I want is your advice,for you are my relation--I mean, a sort of guardian to me--aren't you,Clym?"

  "Well, yes, I suppose I am; a sort of guardian. In fact, I am, ofcourse," he said, altogether perplexed as to her drift.

  "I am thinking of marrying," she then observed blandly. "But I shallnot marry unless you assure me that you approve of such a step. Whydon't you speak?"

  "I was taken rather by surprise. But, nevertheless, I am very gladto hear such news. I shall approve, of course, dear Tamsie. Who canit be? I am quite at a loss to guess. No I am not--'tis the olddoctor!--not that I mean to call him old, for he is not very old afterall. Ah--I noticed when he attended you last time!"

  "No, no," she said hastily. "'Tis Mr. Venn."

  Clym's face suddenly became grave.

  "There, now, you don't like him, and I wish I hadn't mentioned him!"she exclaimed almost petulantly. "And I shouldn't have done it,either, only he keeps on bothering me so till I don't know what todo!"

  Clym looked at the heath. "I like Venn well enough," he answered atlast. "He is a very honest and at the same time astute man. He isclever too, as is proved by his having got you to favour him. Butreally, Thomasin, he is not quite--"

  "Gentleman enough for me? That is just what I feel. I am sorry nowthat I asked you, and I won't think any more of him. At the same timeI must marry him if I marry anybody--that I WILL say!"

  "I don't see that," said Clym, carefully concealing every clue to hisown interrupted intention, which she plainly had not guessed. "Youmight marry a professional man, or somebody of that sort, by goinginto the town to live and forming acquaintances there."

  "I am not fit for town life--so very rural and silly as I always havebeen. Do not you yourself notice my countrified ways?"

  "Well, when I came home from Paris I did, a little; but I don't now."

  "That's because you have got countrified too. O, I couldn't live in astreet for the world! Egdon is a ridiculous old place; but I have gotused to it, and I couldn't be happy anywhere else at all."

  "Neither could I," said Clym.

  "Then how could you say that I should marry some town man? I am sure,say what you will, that I must marry Diggory, if I marry at all. Hehas been kinder to me than anybody else, and has helped me in manyways that I don't know of!" Thomasin almost pouted now.

  "Yes, he has," said Clym in a neutral tone. "Well, I wish with all myheart that I could say, marry him. But I cannot forget what my motherthought on that matter, and it goes rather against me not to respecther opinion. There is too much reason why we should do the little wecan to respect it now."

  "Very well, then," sighed Thomasin. "I will say no more."

  "But you are not bound to obey my wishes. I merely say what I think."

  "O no--I don't want to be rebellious in that way," she said sadly. "Ihad no business to think of him--I ought to have thought of my family.What dreadfully bad impulses there are in me!" Her lips trembled, andshe turned away to hide a tear.

  Clym, though vexed at what seemed her unaccountable taste, was in ameasure relieved to find that at any rate the marriage question inrelation to himself was shelved. Through several succeeding dayshe saw her at different times from the window of his room mopingdisconsolately about the garden. He was half angry with her forchoosing Venn; then he was grieved at having put himself in the wayof Venn's happiness, who was, after all, as honest and persevering ayoung fellow as any on Egdon, since he had turned over a new leaf.In short, Clym did not know what to do.

  When next they met she said abruptly, "He is much more respectablenow than he was then!"

  "Who? O yes--Diggory Venn."

  "Aunt only objected because he was a reddleman."

  "Well, Thomasin, perhaps I don't know all the particulars of mymother's wish. So you had better use your own discretion."

  "You will always feel that I slighted your mother's memory."

  "No, I will not. I shall think you are convinced that, had she seenDiggory in his present position, she would have considered him afitting husband for you. Now, that's my real feeling. Don't consultme any more, but do as you like, Thomasin. I shall be content."

  It is to be supposed that Thomasin was convinced; for a few days afterthis, when Clym strayed into a part of the heath that he had notlately visited, Humphrey, who was at work there, said to him, "I amglad to see that Mrs. Wildeve and Venn have made it up again,seemingly."

  "Have they?" said Clym abstractedly.

  "Yes; and he do contrive to stumble upon her whenever she walks outon fine days with the chiel. But, Mr. Yeobright, I can't help feelingthat your cousin ought to have married you. 'Tis a pity to make twochimley-corners where there need be only one. You could get her awayfrom him now, 'tis my belief, if you were only to set about it."

  "How can I have the conscience to marry after having driven twowomen to their deaths? Don't think such a thing, Humphrey. After myexperience I should consider it too much of a burlesque to go tochurch and take a wife. In the words of Job, 'I have
made a covenantwith mine eyes; why then should I think upon a maid?'"

  "No, Mr. Clym, don't fancy that about driving two women to theirdeaths. You shouldn't say it."

  "Well, we'll leave that out," said Yeobright. "But anyhow God hasset a mark upon me which wouldn't look well in a lovemaking scene.I have two ideas in my head, and no others. I am going to keep anight-school; and I am going to turn preacher. What have you got tosay to that, Humphrey?"

  "I'll come and hear 'ee with all my heart."

  "Thanks. 'Tis all I wish."

  As Clym descended into the valley Thomasin came down by the otherpath, and met him at the gate. "What do you think I have to tell you,Clym?" she said, looking archly over her shoulder at him.

  "I can guess," he replied.

  She scrutinized his face. "Yes, you guess right. It is going to beafter all. He thinks I may as well make up my mind, and I have got tothink so too. It is to be on the twenty-fifth of next month, if youdon't object."

  "Do what you think right, dear. I am only too glad that you see yourway clear to happiness again. My sex owes you every amends for thetreatment you received in days gone by."