Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 February 1899 — THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE

THOMAS HARDY

■■mAPTER XVll—(Continued.) Krasnchard was not loft long in suspense. Eg Hatta was rather addicted to scribhardly had Elizabeth .lane gone ■B when another note camo to the ■w Kbr’s house from High Street Hall. K R* B * l * n residence.” she said, "and com■Bgmble, though getting here has been a KKome undertaking. You probably 1 am going to tell you, or do B ft' not? My good aunt Templeman, the vfldow, whose very existence you ■E ■ to doubt, leave alone her affluence. R Hntely died, and bequeathed a great ■K her property to mo. I will not ■[■Hnto details except to say that I taken her name. You probably are ■Hie of my arrangements with your ■'Staler, and have doubtless laughed at RE-what shall I call it?—practical joke ■■fay getting her to live with me. But ■ ■first meeting with her was purely an ■ fluent. Do you see, Michael, why I ■^Ktmeit?— why, to give you an excuse K Rooming here as if solely to visit her, R iWthns to form my acquaintance nat- ■ Kjto. In haste, yours always, Kr "LUCETTA." ■ Rhe excitement which these announceproduced in Henchard's gloomy ■ | was to him most pleasurable. He ■ißbyer his dining table long and dream- ■ by an almost mechanical transfer I Khentiments which had run to waste ■Rk ■-.lns estrangement from Elizabeth ■■land Donald Farfrae gathered around EMretta before they had grown dry. She ■Ba* in a very coming-on disposition for ■Rmage; of that there could be no doubt. ■ else could a poor woman be who ■ herself to him so unluckily at EfllitW There was no doubt that con- ■ iKpce no less than affection had brought I ■foere- On the whole he did not blame ■RL fl»el that he would like to see Lu■K.>ag w * t * l Henchard to start for her ■ put on his hat and went. It ■ 'Bfc between eight and nine o'clock when ■Reached her door. The answer brought ME- that Miss Templeman was en- ■ ■Ed for that evening, but that she would I Rfawmy to see him the next day. sat visibly upon Lucetta the morning. She dressed herself for ■ L (Henehard and restlessly awaited his midday; as he did not come I’Kfaaited on through the afternoon. But IKdid not tell Elizabeth Jane that the ■ Kaon expected was her stepfather. IRfhe Saturday afternoon slipped on thus [■Korily. The market, which fronted I ? house, changed from the sampleIRfring hour to the idle hour before Ifßrting homeward, when tales were told. I ■Shard had not called on Lucetta, iREh she had stood so near. He must EKsT been too busy, she thought. He IRttd come on Sunday, or Monday. days came, but not the visitor, ERfegh Lucetta repeated her dressing ERh' scrupulous care. She was disheartIRSwesday was the great Candlemas fair. EC Breakfast she said to Elizabeth Jane IRite coolly: "Miss Henchard, will you go lßw> errand for me as soon as breakfast IRiver? Ah, that’s very good of you. you go and order- ” Here she IRinneraled several commissions at sunwhich would occupy Elizabeth tryrio for the next hour or two. at s-Rjttxabeth hastily put on her things and "I wonder why she wants to WtSnd of me to-day?" she said, sorrowWfrcfcas she went. That her absence, Bcr than her services was in request, Kfi been readily apparent to Elizabeth ■fae, simple as she seemed, and difficult ■ I to attribute a motive for the Rfehe had not been gone ten minutes Lucetta’s servant was sent to Rhiehard's with a note. The contents ■sere, briefly: R|)ear Michael: You will be standing Rm)C to my house to-day for two or three •’RB''in the course of your business, so call afid see me. 1 am sadly that you have not come be■U, for can I help anxiety about my own Rttirocal position—specially now my fortune has brought me more prombefore society? Your daughter's R£e*sce here may be the cause of your and I have therefore sent her Rray for the morning. Say you come on Riniiess. I shall be quite alone. "LUCETTA.” ‘fVVhen the messenger returned, her mis(R»k gave directions that if a gentleman ■■fad he was to be admitted at once, and ■ftidown to await results. 0 (■A.£ijttle later she heard the servant ■Kwing in a visitor, shutting the door Rmb him, and leaving as if to go and look Either mistress. Lucetta flung back the with a nervous greeting. HCtfl CHAPTER XVIII. IHRhe man before her was not Henehard. that such might be the ease IBM* indeed, flashed through her mind Sha*;ahe was on the point of bursting It was just too late to recede. fflfee was years younger than the Mayor fair, fresh and slender! v ■tadsowe. He wore drab cloth leggings |RK\ white buttons, boots and infinite • iKe boles, light cord breeches and Idiick IRtveteen coat and waistcoat, and he had Eawiteh in his hand. Lucetta blushed Rhd said, with a curious mixture of pout -Rteprugh on her face, "Oh, I've made a visitor, on the contrary, did not EK half a wrinkle. "But I’m verv Aity!” h ” in deprecating tones. “I and inquired for Miss Henehard, showed me up here, and at no ibaKSrould I have caught ye so unmanKy if I bad known.” 'i'"lwaß tbe unmaul “ >r, . v one." said she. is it that I have come to the wrong said Mr. Farfrae, blink- - E»Bttle in his bewilderment, and nervhis legging with his switch. no, sir; Sit down. You must come - „ - ail down, now you are here,” replied * . J&Stta, kindly, to relieve his embarrass- ;"*%•« - raSw Henchard will be here dinot strictly true; but •omethiug about the young ' ■' ■ T- - -J.'

man—that Hyperborean crispness, constringency and charm, as of a well-braced musical instrument—which had awakened the interest of Henchard, and of Elizabeth Jane, and of the King of Prussia’s crew, at sight, made his unexpected presence here attractive to Lucetta. He hesitated, looked at the chair, thought there was no danger in it and sat down. Farfrae’s presence here was simply the result of Henchard's permission to him to see Elizabeth Jane, if he were minded to woo her. At first he had taken no notice of Henchard’s brusque letter; but an exceptionally fortunate business transaction put him on good terms with everybody, and revealed to him that he could undeniably marry if he chose. Then who so pleasing, thrifty and satisfactory in every way as Elizabeth Jane? Apart from her personal recommendations, a reconciliation with his former friend Henchard would, 1 in the natural course of things, flow from such a union. He therefore forgave the Mayor his curtness; and this morning on his way to the fair he had called at her house, where he learned that she was staying at Miss Templeman’s. A little stimulated at not finding her ready and waiting—so fanciful are men —he hastened on to High Street Hall, to encounter no Elizabeth, but Lucetta herself. "The fair to-day seems a large one,” she said, when, by a natural deviation, their eyes sought the busy scene without. "Your numerous fairs and markets keep me interested. How many things I think of while I watch from here!” He seemed to doubt how to answer, and the babble without reached them as they sat—voices as of wavelets on a lopping sea, one ever aud anon rising above the rest. “Do you look out often?” he asked. “Yes, very often.” "Do you look for any one you know?” Why should she have answered as she did? “I look as at a picture merely. But,” she went on, turning pleasantly to him, “I may do so now; I may look for you. You are always there, are you not? Ah— I don’t mean it seriously! But it is amusing to look for somebody one knows in a crowd, even if one does not want him. It takes off the terrible oppressiveness of being surrounded by a throng, and having no point of junction with it through a sinble individual.” “Ah! And is it that you are lonely, ma’am?” “Nobody knows how lonely.” “But you are rich, they say.” “If so, I don’t know how to enjoy my riches. I came to Casterbridge, thinking I should like to live here.” Thus the two. She had enkindled the young man’s enthusiasm till he was quite brimming with sentiment; while he, from merely affording her a new form of idleness, had gone on to wake her serious solicitude. Why w«s this? They could not have told.

Farfrae was shown out, it having entirely escaped him that he had called to see Elizabeth Jane. Lucetta at the window watched him threading the maze of farmers and farmers’ men. She could see by his gait that he was conscious of her eyes, and her heart went out for his modesty—pleaded that he might be allowed to come again. He entered the market house, and she eould see him no more. Three minutes later, when she had left the window, a knock, not of multitude but of strength, sounded through the 1 house, and the waiting maid tripped up. “Mr. Henchard,” she said. Lucetta had reclined herself, and was looking dreamily fingers. She did not answer at once, and the maid repeated the information, with the addition, “And he’s afraid he hasn’t much time to spare, he says.” "Oh! Then tell him that as I have a headache I won’t detain him to-day.” The message was taken down, and she heard the door close. Lucetta had come to Casterbridge to quicken Henchard’s feelings with regard tp her. She had quickened them, and now she was indifferent to the achievement. Several days passed by and Lucetta’s secret attachment for the Scotchman increased. One morning after having spent a feverish night she told her companion that she had something on her mindsomething which concerned a person in whom she was interested much. Elizabeth was earnest to listen and sympathize. “This person—a lady—once adniired a man much—very inuc%” she said, tentatively. “Ah,” said Elizabeth .lane. “He did not .think so deeply of her as she did of him. But in an impulsive moment, purely out of gratitude, he proposed to make her his wife. She agreed. But there was an unexpected hitch in the proceedings; as a result she was so far compromised with him that she felt she could never belong to another man. as a pure matter of conscience, even if she should wish to. After that they were much apart, heard nothing of each other for a long time, and she felt her life quite closed up for her. “Ah—poor girl!” “She suffered much on account of .him; though I should add that he could not altogether be blamed for what had happened. At last the obstacle which separated them was providentially removed; and he came to marry her.” “How delightful!” “But in the interval she—my poor friend—had seen a man she liked better than him. Now comes the point: Could she in honor dismiss the first?” “A man she liked better—that’s bad!” “Yes,” said Lucetta. “It is bad! Though you must remember that she was forced into an equivocal position with the first man by an accident—that he was not so well educated or refined as the second, and that she had discovered some qualities in the first that rendered him less desirable as a husband than she had at first thought him to be.” “I cannot answer,” said Elizabeth Jane, thoughtfully. “It is so difficult. It wants a Pope to settle that.” “You prefer not to, perhaps?” Lucetta showed in her appealing tone how much ata leaned on Elizabeth’s Juiignsswt

“Yes,” admitted Elizabeth. “1 would rather not say.” Nevertheless, Lucetta seemed relieved by the simple fact of having opened out the situation a little, and was slowly convalescent of her headache. “Bring me a looking How do I appear to people?” she said, languidly. "Well—a little worn,” answered Elizabeth, eying her as a critic eyes a doubtful painting; fetching the glass she enabled Lucetta to survey herself in it, which Lucetta anxiously did. “I wonder if I wear well, as times go,” she observed after a while. “How many years more do you think I shall last before I get hopelessly plain?” There was something curious in the way in which Elizabeth, though the younger, had come to play the part of experienced sage in these discussions. “It may be five years,” she said, judiciously. “Or, with a quiet life, as many as ten. With no love you might calculate on ten.” CHAPTER XIX. The next phase of the supersession of Henchard in Lucetta’s heart was an experiment in calling on her, performed by Farfrae with some apparent trepidation. Conventionally speaking, he conversed with both Miss Templeman and her companion; but, in fact, it was rather that Elizabeth Jane sat invisible in the room. Donald appeared not to see her at all, and answered her wise, homely little remarks with curtly indifferent monosyllables, his looks and faculties hanging on the woman who could boast of a more Portean variety in her phases, moods, opinions and also principles, than could Elizabeth. Lucetta had persisted in dragging her into the circle; but she had remained like an awkward third point which that circle would not touch. All this time Henchard’s smoldering sentiments toward Lucetta had been fanned into higher and higher inflammation by the circumstances of the. case. He was discovering that the j’oung woman, for whom he once felt a pitying wormth of gratitude, which had been almost chilled out of him by reflection, was, when now qualified with a slight inaccessibility and a more matured beauty, the very being to make him satisfied with life. Day after day proved to him, by her silence, that it was no use to think of bringing her round by holding aloof; so he gave in, and called upon her again, Elizabeth Jane being absent. He crossed the room to her with a heavy tread of some awkwardness, his strong, warm gaze upon her —like the sun beside the moon in comparison with Farfrae’s modest look—and with something of a hail-fellow bearing, as, indeed, was not unnatural. But she seetffed so transubstantiated by her change of position, and held out her hand to him in such cool friendship, that he became deferential, and sat down with a perceptible loss power. He understood but little of fashion in dress, yet enough to feel himself inadequate in appearance beside her whom he had hitherto been dreaming of as almost his property. She said something very polite about his being good enough to call. This caused him to recover balance. He looked her oddly in the face, losing his awe. “Why, of course I ha Lucetta,” he said. “What does that nonsense mean? You know I couldn't have helped myself if I had wished —that is, if I had any conscience at all. I've called to say that I am ready, as soon as custom will permit, to be publicly married to you.” "It is fully early yet,” she said, evasively. “Why, for a man and wife to talk to one another like this!” “We are not man and wife,” she answered. tiring quickly. "If going to the registry don’t make us so, I should like to know what it does make us.” Lucetta burst in passionately: “How can you speak so! Knowing that it proved to be void by her coming back, and th.‘t it was entirely on your side that the blame lay which put me in so awkward a positVn. you ought to allow me to look nt it as I choose. I suffered enough at that lonely, terrifying time after I was sent back from joining you—not knowing what was to happen to me. And if I am a little independent now, surely the privilege is due to me!” "Yes. it is. It was a bad job for you.” he said repentantly. “But perhaps you’ll have the justice to own that I was as innocent as you?” "Yes, I believe you were,” she said, more calmly. “Then let us be quick and legalize your state by going through the service again as soon as we can; and so, in spite of the mishap the first time, we shall wind up well at last. It is very odd,” he murmured, "that I. so little of a woman's man as I be. should find it necessary to marry two women twice over. Well, what do you say?” For the first time in their acquaintance Lucetta had the move; and yet she was backward. “For the present let things be,” she said with some embarrassment.. "Treat me as an acquaintance: and I'll treat you as one. Time will —” she stopped; and he said nothing to fill the gap for a while, there being no pressure of half acquaintance to drive them into speech if they were not minded for it. “That's the way the wind blows, is it?” he said at last, grimly, nodding an affirmative to his own thoughts. A yellow flood of reflected sunlight filled the room for a few instants. It was produced by the passing of a load of newly trussed hay from the country in a new wagon marked with Farfrae’s name. Beside it rode Farfrae himself. Lucetta’s face became—as a woman’s face becomes when the man she loves rises upon her gaze like an apparition, f A turn of the eye by Henehard. a glance from the window, and the secret of her inaccessibility would have been revealed. But Henehard in estimating her tone was looking down so plumb-straight that he did not note the warm consciousness upon Lucetta’s face. “I shouldn’t have thought it—l shouldn’t have thought it of woman!” he said, emphatically, by and by, rising and shaking himself into activity; while Lucetta was so anxious to divert him from any suspicion of the truth that she asked him to be in no hurry. He had hardly gone down the staircase when she dropped upon the sofa, and jumped up again in a fit of desperation. ’1 will love him!” she cried, passionately; “as for him—he’s hot-tempered and stem, and it would be madness to bind myself to him, knowing that. I won’t be a slave to the past—l’ll love where I choose!” (To be continued.) The boarding-house beefsteak la rare when it appears on the table only once a week.