Shereddenedsointenselyastopassthemildblushthatsufficestoheightenbeauty；sheputtheyellowleathergloveononehand，tookupthehookwiththeother，andsatdowndoggedlytoherworkwithoutturningherfacetohimagain。Heregardedherheadforamoment，wenttothedoor，andwithonelookbackather，departedonhiswayhomeward。
　　Martypursuedheroccupationforafewminutes，thensuddenlylayingdownthebill-hook，shejumpedupandwenttothebackoftheroom，wheresheopenedadoorwhichdisclosedastaircasesowhitelyscrubbedthatthegrainofthewoodwaswellnighsoddenawaybysuchcleansing。Atthetopshegentlyapproachedabedroom，andwithoutentering，said，“Father，doyouwantanything？”
　　Aweakvoiceinsideansweredinthenegative；adding，“Ishouldbeallrightbyto-morrowifitwerenotforthetree！”
　　“Thetreeagain——alwaysthetree！Oh，father，don’tworrysoaboutthat。Youknowitcandoyounoharm。”
　　“Whohaveyehadtalkingtoyedown-stairs？”
　　“AShertonmancalled——nothingtotroubleabout。”shesaid，soothingly。“Father。”shewenton，“canMrs。Charmondturnusoutofourhouseifshe’smindedto？”
　　“Turnusout？No。Nobodycanturnusouttillmypoorsoulisturnedoutofmybody。’Tislife-hold，likeAmbroseWinterborne’s。Butwhenmylifedrops’twillbehers——nottillthen。”Hiswordsonthissubjectsofarhadbeenrationalandfirmenough。Butnowhelapsedintohismoaningstrain：“Andthetreewilldoit——thattreewillsoonbethedeathofme。”
　　“Nonsense，youknowbetter。Howcanitbe？”Sherefrainedfromfurtherspeech，anddescendedtotheground-flooragain。
　　“ThankHeaven，then。”shesaidtoherself，“whatbelongstomeI
　　keep。”
　　Thelightsinthevillagewentout，houseafterhouse，tillthereonlyremainedtwointhedarkness。Oneofthesecamefromaresidenceonthehill-side，ofwhichthereisnothingtosayatpresent；theothershonefromthewindowofMartySouth。
　　Preciselythesameoutwardeffectwasproducedhere，however，byherrisingwhentheclockstrucktenandhangingupathickclothcurtain。Thedooritwasnecessarytokeepajarinhers，asinmostcottages，becauseofthesmoke；butsheobviatedtheeffectoftheribbonoflightthroughthechinkbyhangingaclothoverthatalso。Shewasoneofthosepeoplewho，iftheyhavetoworkharderthantheirneighbors，prefertokeepthenecessityasecretasfaraspossible；andbutfortheslightsoundsofwood-
　　splinteringwhichcamefromwithin，nowayfarerwouldhaveperceivedthatherethecottagerdidnotsleepaselsewhere。
　　Eleven，twelve，oneo’clockstruck；theheapofsparsgrewhigher，andthepileofchipsandendsmorebulky。Eventhelightonthehillhadnowbeenextinguished；butstillsheworkedon。Whenthetemperatureofthenightwithouthadfallensolowastomakeherchilly，sheopenedalargeblueumbrellatowardoffthedraughtfromthedoor。Thetwosovereignsconfrontedherfromthelooking-glassinsuchamannerastosuggestapairofjaundicedeyesonthewatchforanopportunity。Whenevershesighedforwearinesssheliftedhergazetowardsthem，butwithdrewitquickly，strokinghertresseswithherfingersforamoment，asiftoassureherselfthattheywerestillsecure。Whentheclockstruckthreeshearoseandtiedupthesparsshehadlastmadeinabundleresemblingthosethatlayagainstthewall。
　　Shewrappedroundheralongredwoollencravatandopenedthedoor。Thenightinallitsfulnessmetherflatlyonthethreshold，liketheverybrinkofanabsolutevoid，ortheantemundaneGinnung-GapbelievedinbyherTeutonforefathers。
　　Forhereyeswerefreshfromtheblaze，andheretherewasnostreet-lamporlanterntoformakindlytransitionbetweentheinnerglareandtheouterdark。Alingeringwindbroughttoherearthecreakingsoundoftwoover-crowdedbranchesintheneighboringwoodwhichwererubbingeachotherintowounds，andothervocalizedsorrowsofthetrees，togetherwiththescreechofowls，andtheflutteringtumbleofsomeawkwardwood-pigeonill-
　　balancedonitsroosting-bough。
　　Butthepupilsofheryoungeyessoonexpanded，andshecouldseewellenoughforherpurpose。Takingabundleofsparsundereacharm，andguidedbytheserratedlineoftree-topsagainstthesky，shewentsomehundredyardsormoredownthelanetillshereachedalongopenshed，carpetedaroundwiththedeadleavesthatlayabouteverywhere。Night，thatstrangepersonality，whichwithinwallsbringsominousintrospectivenessandself-distrust，butundertheopenskybanishessuchsubjectiveanxietiesastootrivialforthought，inspiredMartySouthwithalessperturbedandbriskermannernow。Shelaidthesparsonthegroundwithintheshedandreturnedformore，goingtoandfrotillherwholemanufacturedstockweredepositedhere。
　　Thiserectionwasthewagon-houseofthechiefmanofbusinesshereabout，Mr。GeorgeMelbury，thetimber，bark，andcopse-waremerchantforwhomMarty’sfatherdidworkofthissortbythepiece。Itformedoneofthemanyramblingout-houseswhichsurroundedhisdwelling，anequallyirregularblockofbuilding，whoseimmensechimneyscouldjustbediscernedevennow。Thefourhugewagonsundertheshedwerebuiltonthoseancientlineswhoseproportionshavebeenoustedbymodernpatterns，theirshapesbulgingandcurvingatthebaseandendslikeTrafalgarline-of-
　　battleships，withwhichvenerablehulks，indeed，thesevehiclesevidencedaconstructedspiritcuriouslyinharmony。Onewasladenwithsheep-cribs，anotherwithhurdles，anotherwithashpoles，andthefourth，atthefootofwhichshehadplacedherthatching-sparswashalffullofsimilarbundles。
　　Shewaspausingamomentwiththateasefulsenseofaccomplishmentwhichfollowsworkdonethathasbeenahardstruggleinthedoing，whensheheardawoman’svoiceontheothersideofthehedgesay，anxiously，“George！”Inamomentthenamewasrepeated，with“Docomeindoors！Whatareyoudoingthere？”
　　Thecart-houseadjoinedthegarden，andbeforeMartyhadmovedshesawenterthelatterfromthetimber-merchant’sbackdooranelderlywomanshelteringacandlewithherhand，thelightfromwhichcastamovingthorn-patternofshadeonMarty’sface。Itsrayssoonfelluponamanwhoseclotheswereroughlythrownon，standinginadvanceofthespeaker。Hewasathin，slightlystoopingfigure，withasmallnervousmouthandafacecleanlyshaven；andhewalkedalongthepathwithhiseyesbentontheground。InthepairMartySouthrecognizedheremployerMelburyandhiswife。ShewasthesecondMrs。Melbury，thefirsthavingdiedshortlyafterthebirthofthetimber-merchant’sonlychild。
　　“’Tisnousetostayinbed。”hesaid，assoonasshecameuptowherehewaspacingrestlesslyabout。“Ican’tsleep——Ikeepthinkingofthings，andworryingaboutthegirl，tillI’mquiteinafeverofanxiety。”Hewentontosaythathecouldnotthinkwhy“sheMartyknewhewasspeakingofhisdaughterdidnotanswerhisletter。Shemustbeill——shemust，certainly。”hesaid。
　　“No，no。’Tisallright，George。”saidhiswife；andsheassuredhimthatsuchthingsalwaysdidappearsogloomyinthenight-
　　time，ifpeopleallowedtheirmindstorunonthem；thatwhenmorningcameitwasseenthatsuchfearswerenothingbutshadows。
　　“GraceisaswellasyouorI。”shedeclared。
　　Buthepersistedthatshedidnotseeall——thatshedidnotseeasmuchashe。Hisdaughter’snotwritingwasonlyonepartofhisworry。Onaccountofherhewasanxiousconcerningmoneyaffairs，whichhewouldneveralarmhismindaboutotherwise。Thereasonhegavewasthat，asshehadnobodytodependuponforaprovisionbuthimself，hewishedher，whenhewasgone，tobesecurelyoutofriskofpoverty。
　　TothisMrs。MelburyrepliedthatGracewouldbesuretomarrywell，andthathenceahundredpoundsmoreorlessfromhimwouldnotmakemuchdifference。
　　Herhusbandsaidthatthatwaswhatshe，Mrs。Melbury，naturallythought；butthereshewaswrong，andinthatlaythesourceofhistrouble。“Ihaveaplaninmyheadabouther。”hesaid；“andaccordingtomyplanshewon’tmarryarichman。”
　　“Aplanforhernottomarrywell？”saidhiswife，surprised。
　　“Well，inonesenseitisthat。”repliedMelbury。“Itisaplanforhertomarryaparticularperson，andashehasnotsomuchmoneyasshemightexpect，itmightbecalledasyoucallit。I
　　maynotbeabletocarryitout；andevenifIdo，itmaynotbeagoodthingforher。IwanthertomarryGilesWinterborne。”
　　Hiscompanionrepeatedthename。“Well，itisallright。”shesaid，presently。“Headorestheverygroundshewalkson；onlyhe’sclose，andwon’tshowitmuch。”
　　MartySouthappearedstartled，andcouldnottearherselfaway。
　　Yes，thetimber-merchantasserted，heknewthatwellenough。
　　Winterbornehadbeeninterestedinhisdaughterforyears；thatwaswhathadledhimintothenotionoftheirunion。Andheknewthatsheusedtohavenoobjectiontohim。Butitwasnotanydifficultyaboutthatwhichembarrassedhim。Itwasthat，sincehehadeducatedhersowell，andsolong，andsofarabovethelevelofdaughtersthereabout，itwas“wastingher“togivehertoamanofnohigherstandingthantheyoungmaninquestion。
　　“That’swhatIhavebeenthinking。”saidMrs。Melbury。
　　“Well，then，Lucy，nowyou’vehitit。”answeredthetimber-
　　merchant，withfeeling。“Thereliesmytrouble。Ivowedtolethermarryhim，andtomakeherasvaluableasIcouldtohimbyschoolingherasmanyyearsandasthoroughlyaspossible。Imeantokeepmyvow。ImadeitbecauseIdidhisfatheraterriblewrong；anditwasaweightonmyconscienceeversincethattimetillthisschemeofmakingamendsoccurredtomethroughseeingthatGileslikedher。”
　　“Wrongedhisfather？”askedMrs。Melbury。
　　“Yes，grievouslywrongedhim。”saidherhusband。
　　“Well，don’tthinkofitto-night。”sheurged。“Comeindoors。”