“Yousee，Giles。”hesaid，asheblacked，“comingfromafashionableschool，shemightfeelshockedatthehomelinessofhome；and’tistheselittlethingsthatcatchadaintywoman’seyeiftheyareneglected。We，livingherealone，don’tnoticehowthewhitey-browncreepsoutoftheearthoverus；butshe，freshfromacity——why，she’llnoticeeverything！”
“Thatshewill。”saidGiles。
“Andscornusifwedon’tmind。”
“Notscornus。”
“No，no，no——that’sonlywords。She’stoogoodagirltodothat。
Butwhenweconsiderwhatsheknows，andwhatshehasseensinceshelastsawus，’tisaswelltomeetherviewsasnearlyaspossible。Why，’tisayearsinceshewasinthisoldplace，owingtohergoingabroadinthesummer，whichIagreedto，thinkingitbestforher；andnaturallyweshalllooksmall，justatfirst——I
onlysayjustatfirst。”
Mr。Melbury’stoneevincedacertainexultationintheverysenseofthatinferiorityheaffectedtodeplore；forthisadvancedandrefinedbeing，wasshenothisownallthetime？NotsoGiles；hefeltdoubtful——perhapsatriflecynical——forthatstrandwaswoundintohimwiththerest。Helookedathisclotheswithmisgiving，thenwithindifference。
Itwashiscustomduringtheplantingseasontocarryaspecimenapple-treetomarketwithhimasanadvertisementofwhathedealtin。Thishadbeentiedacrossthegig；andasitwouldbeleftbehindinthetown，itwouldcausenoinconveniencetoMissGraceMelburycominghome。
Hedroveaway，thetwigsnoddingwitheachstepofthehorse；andMelburywentin-doors。Beforethegighadpassedoutofsight，Mr。Melburyreappearedandshoutedafter——
“Here，Giles，“hesaid，breathlesslyfollowingwithsomewraps，“itmaybeverychillyto-night，andshemaywantsomethingextraabouther。And，Giles。”headded，whentheyoungman，havingtakenthearticles，putthehorseinmotiononcemore，“tellherthatIshouldhavecomemyself，butIhadparticularbusinesswithMrs。Charmond’sagent，whichpreventedme。Don’tforget。”
HewatchedWinterborneoutofsight，saying，withajerk——ashapeintowhichemotionwithhimoftenresolveditself——“There，now，I
hopethetwowillbringittoapointandhavedonewithit！’Tisapitytoletsuchagirlthrowherselfawayuponhim——athousandpities！。Andyet’tismydutyforhisfather’ssake。”
WinterbornespedonhiswaytoShertonAbbaswithoutelationandwithoutdiscomposure。Hadheregardedhisinnerselfspectacularly，asloversarenowdailymorewonttodo，hemighthavefeltprideinthediscernmentofasomewhatrarepowerinhim——thatofkeepingnotonlyjudgmentbutemotionsuspendedindifficultcases。Buthenoteditnot。Neitherdidheobservewhatwasalsothefact，thatthoughhecherishedatrueandwarmfeelingtowardsGraceMelbury，hewasnotaltogetherherfooljustnow。Itmustberememberedthathehadnotseenherforayear。
Arrivedattheentrancetoalongflatlane，whichhadtakenthespiritoutofmanyapedestrianintimeswhen，withthemajority，totravelmeanttowalk，hesawbeforehimthetrimfigureofayoungwomaninpattens，journeyingwiththatsteadfastconcentrationwhichmeanspurposeandnotpleasure。HewassoonnearenoughtoseethatshewasMartySouth。Click，click，clickwentthepattens；andshedidnotturnherhead。
Shehad，however，becomeawarebeforethisthatthedriveroftheapproachinggigwasGiles。Shehadshrunkfrombeingovertakenbyhimthus；butasitwasinevitable，shehadbracedherselfupforhisinspectionbyclosingherlipssoastomakehermouthquiteunemotional，andbythrowinganadditionalfirmnessintohertread。
“Whydoyouwearpattens，Marty？Theturnpikeiscleanenough，althoughthelanesaremuddy。”
“Theysavemyboots。”
“Buttwelvemilesinpattens——’twilltwistyourfeetoff。Come，getupandridewithme。”
Shehesitated，removedherpattens，knockedthegraveloutofthemagainstthewheel，andmountedinfrontofthenoddingspecimenapple-tree。Shehadsoarrangedherbonnetwithafullborderandtrimmingsthatherlackoflonghairdidnotmuchinjureherappearance；thoughGiles，ofcourse，sawthatitwasgone，andmayhaveguessedhermotiveinpartingwithit，suchsales，thoughinfrequent，beingnotunheardofinthatlocality。
Butnature’sadornmentwasstillhardby——infact，withintwofeetofhim，thoughhedidnotknowit。InMarty’sbasketwasabrownpaperpacket，andinthepacketthechestnutlocks，which，byreasonofthebarber’srequestforsecrecy，shehadnotventuredtointrusttootherhands。
Gilesasked，withsomehesitation，howherfatherwasgettingon。
Hewasbetter，shesaid；hewouldbeabletoworkinadayortwo；
hewouldbequitewellbutforhiscrazeaboutthetreefallingonhim。
“YouknowwhyIdon’taskforhimsooftenasImight，Isuppose？”
saidWinterborne。“Ordon’tyouknow？”
“IthinkIdo。”
“Becauseofthehouses？”
Shenodded。
“Yes。Iamafraiditmayseemthatmyanxietyisaboutthosehouses，whichIshouldlosebyhisdeath，morethanabouthim。
Marty，Idofeelanxiousaboutthehouses，sincehalfmyincomedependsuponthem；butIdolikewisecareforhim；anditalmostseemswrongthathousesshouldbeleasedforlives，soastoleadtosuchmixedfeelings。”
“Afterfather’sdeaththeywillbeMrs。Charmond’s？”
“They’llbehers。”
“Theyaregoingtokeepcompanywithmyhair。”shethought。
Thustalking，theyreachedthetown。Bynopressurewouldsherideupthestreetwithhim。“That’stherightofanotherwoman。”
shesaid，withplayfulmalice，assheputonherpattens。“I
wonderwhatyouarethinkingof！Thankyoufortheliftinthathandsomegig。Good-by。”
Heblushedalittle，shookhisheadather，anddroveonaheadintothestreets——thechurches，theabbey，andotherbuildingsonthisclearbrightmorninghavingthelinydistinctnessofarchitecturaldrawings，asiftheoriginaldreamandvisionoftheconceivingmaster-mason，somemediaevalVilarsorotherunknowntofame，wereforafewminutesflasheddownthroughthecenturiestoanunappreciativeage。Gilessawtheireloquentlookonthisdayoftransparency，butcouldnotconstrueit。Heturnedintotheinn-yard。
Marty，followingthesametrack，marchedpromptlytothehair-
dresser’s，Mr。Percombe’s。PercombewasthechiefofhistradeinShertonAbbas。Hehadthepatronageofsuchcountyoffshootsashadbeenobligedtoseektheshelterofsmallhousesinthatancienttown，ofthelocalclergy，andsoon，forsomeofwhomhehadmadewigs，whileothersamongthemhadcompensatedforneglectinghimintheirlifetimebypatronizinghimwhentheyweredead，andlettinghimshavetheircorpses。Onthestrengthofallthishehadtakendownhispole，andcalledhimself“Perruquiertothearistocracy。”
Nevertheless，thissortofsupportdidnotquitefillhischildren’smouths，andtheyhadtobefilled。So，behindhishousetherewasalittleyard，reachedbyapassagefromthebackstreet，andinthatyardwasapole，andunderthepoleashopofquiteanotherdescriptionthantheornamentaloneinthefrontstreet。HereonSaturdaynightsfromseventilltenhetookanalmostinnumerablesuccessionoftwopencesfromthefarmlaborerswhoflockedthitherincrowdsfromthecountry。Andthushelived。
Marty，ofcourse，wenttothefrontshop，andhandedherpackettohimsilently。“Thankyou。”saidthebarber，quitejoyfully。“I
hardlyexpecteditafterwhatyousaidlastnight。”
Sheturnedaside，whileatearwelledupandstoodineacheyeatthisreminder。
“NothingofwhatItoldyou。”hewhispered，therebeingothersintheshop。“ButIcantrustyou，Isee。”
Shehadnowreachedtheendofthisdistressingbusiness，andwentlistlesslyalongthestreettoattendtoothererrands。Theseoccupiedhertillfouro’clock，atwhichtimesherecrossedthemarket-place。ItwasimpossibletoavoidrediscoveringWinterborneeverytimeshepassedthatway，forstanding，ashealwaysdidatthisseasonoftheyear，withhisspecimenapple-
treeinthemidst，theboughsroseabovetheheadsofthecrowd，andbroughtadelightfulsuggestionoforchardsamongthecrowdedbuildingsthere。Whenhereyefelluponhimforthelasttimehewasstandingsomewhatapart，holdingthetreelikeanensign，andlookingonthegroundinsteadofpushinghisproduceasheoughttohavebeendoing。Hewas，infact，notaverysuccessfulsellereitherofhistreesorofhiscider，hishabitofspeakinghismind，whenhespokeatall，militatingagainstthisbranchofhisbusiness。
