England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction
‘My father did it, and so did my grandfather, and almost everybody in
Nether-Moynton lives by it, and life would be so dull if it wasn’t for
that, that I should not care to live at all.’
‘I am nothing to live for, of course,’ he replied bitterly. ‘You would
not think it worth while to give up this wild business and live for me
alone?’
‘I have never looked at it like that.’
‘And you won’t promise and wait till I am ready?’
‘I cannot give you my word to-night.’ And, looking thoughtfully down,
she gradually moved and moved away, going into the adjoining room, and
closing the door between them. She remained there in the dark till he
was tired of waiting, and had gone up to his own chamber.
Poor Stockdale was dreadfully depressed all the next day by the
discoveries of the night before. Lizzy was unmistakably a fascinating
young woman, but as a minister’s wife she was hardly to be
contemplated. ‘If I had only stuck to father’s little grocery business,
instead of going in for the ministry, she would have suited me
beautifully!’ he said sadly, until he remembered that in that case he
would never have come from his distant home to Nether-Moynton, and
never have known her.
The estrangement between them was not complete, but it was sufficient
to keep them out of each other’s company. Once during the day he met
her in the garden-path, and said, turning a reproachful eye upon her,
‘Do you promise, Lizzy?’ But she did not reply. The evening drew on,
and he knew well enough that Lizzy would repeat her excursion at
night—her half-offended manner had shown that she had not the slightest
intention of altering her plans at present. He did not wish to repeat
his own share of the adventure; but, act as he would, his uneasiness on
her account increased with the decline of day. Supposing that an
accident should befall her, he would never forgive himself for not
being there to help, much as he disliked the idea of seeming to
countenance such unlawful escapades.
CHAPTER V—HOW THEY WENT TO LULSTEAD COVE
As he had expected, she left the house at the same hour at night, this
time passing his door without stealth, as if she knew very well that he
would be watching, and were resolved to brave his displeasure. He was
quite ready, opened the door quickly, and reached the back door almost
as soon as she.
‘Then you will go, Lizzy?’ he said as he stood on the step beside her,
who now again appeared as a little man with a face altogether unsuited
to his clothes.
‘I must,’ she said, repressed by his stern manner.
‘Then I shall go too,’ said he.
‘And I am sure you will enjoy it!’ she exclaimed in more buoyant tones.
‘Everybody does who tries it.’
‘God forbid that I should!’ he said. ‘But I must look after you.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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