Chapter: <CHAPTER>
BOOK FOUR -- THE CLOSED DOOR
1--The Rencounter by the Pool


The July sun shone over Egdon and fired its crimson heather to scarlet.
It was the one season of the year, and the one weather of the season,
in which the heath was gorgeous. This flowering period represented the
second or noontide division in the cycle of those superficial changes
which alone were possible here; it followed the green or young-fern
period, representing the morn, and preceded the brown period, when the
heathbells and ferns would wear the russet tinges of evening; to be in
turn displaced by the dark hue of the winter period, representing night.

Clym and Eustacia, in their little house at Alderworth, beyond East
Egdon, were living on with a monotony which was delightful to them. The
heath and changes of weather were quite blotted out from their eyes for
the present. They were enclosed in a sort of luminous mist, which hid
from them surroundings of any inharmonious colour, and gave to all
things the character of light. When it rained they were charmed, because
they could remain indoors together all day with such a show of reason;
when it was fine they were charmed, because they could sit together on
the hills. They were like those double stars which revolve round and
round each other, and from a distance appear to be one. The absolute
solitude in which they lived intensified their reciprocal thoughts; yet
some might have said that it had the disadvantage of consuming their
mutual affections at a fearfully prodigal rate. Yeobright did not fear
for his own part; but recollection of Eustacia's old speech about the
evanescence of love, now apparently forgotten by her, sometimes caused
him to ask himself a question; and he recoiled at the thought that the
quality of finiteness was not foreign to Eden.

When three or four weeks had been passed thus, Yeobright resumed his
reading in earnest. To make up for lost time he studied indefatigably,
for he wished to enter his new profession with the least possible delay.

Now, Eustacia's dream had always been that, once married to Clym,
she would have the power of inducing him to return to Paris. He had
carefully withheld all promise to do so; but would he be proof against
her coaxing and argument? She had calculated to such a degree on the
probability of success that she had represented Paris, and not Budmouth,
to her grandfather as in all likelihood their future home. Her hopes
were bound up in this dream. In the quiet days since their marriage,
when Yeobright had been poring over her lips, her eyes, and the lines of
her face, she had mused and mused on the subject, even while in the
act of returning his gaze; and now the sight of the books, indicating a
future which was antagonistic to her dream, struck her with a positively
painful jar. She was hoping for the time when, as the mistress of some
pretty establishment, however small, near a Parisian Boulevard, she
would be passing her days on the skirts at least of the gay world, and
catching stray wafts from those town pleasures she was so well fitted
to enjoy. Yet Yeobright was as firm in the contrary intention as if
the tendency of marriage were rather to develop the fantasies of young
philanthropy than to sweep them away.

Her anxiety reached a high pitch; but there was something in Clym's
undeviating manner which made her hesitate before sounding him on the
subject. At this point in their experience, however, an incident helped
her. It occurred one evening about six weeks after their union, and
arose entirely out of the unconscious misapplication of Venn of the
fifty guineas intended for Yeobright.

A day or two after the receipt of the money Thomasin had sent a note to
her aunt to thank her. She had been surprised at the largeness of the
amount; but as no sum had ever been mentioned she set that down to her
late uncle's generosity. She had been strictly charged by her aunt to
say nothing to her husband of this gift; and Wildeve, as was natural
enough, had not brought himself to mention to his wife a single
particular of the midnight scene in the heath. Christian's terror,
in like manner, had tied his tongue on the share he took in that
proceeding; and hoping that by some means or other the money had gone
to its proper destination, he simply asserted as much, without giving
details.

Therefore, when a week or two had passed away, Mrs. Yeobright began to
wonder why she never heard from her son of the receipt of the present;
and to add gloom to her perplexity came the possibility that resentment
might be the cause of his silence. She could hardly believe as much, but
why did he not write? She questioned Christian, and the confusion in his
answers would at once have led her to believe that something was wrong,
had not one-half of his story been corroborated by Thomasin's note.

Mrs. Yeobright was in this state of uncertainty when she was informed
one morning that her son's wife was visiting her grandfather at
Mistover. She determined to walk up the hill, see Eustacia, and
ascertain from her daughter-in-law's lips whether the family guineas,
which were to Mrs. Yeobright what family jewels are to wealthier
dowagers, had miscarried or not.

When Christian learnt where she was going his concern reached its
height. At the moment of her departure he could prevaricate no longer,
and, confessing to the gambling, told her the truth as far as he knew
it--that the guineas had been won by Wildeve.

"What, is he going to keep them?" Mrs. Yeobright cried.

"I hope and trust not!" moaned Christian. "He's a good man, and perhaps
will do right things. He said you ought to have gied Mr. Clym's share to
Eustacia, and that's perhaps what he'll do himself."

To Mrs. Yeobright, as soon as she could calmly reflect, there was much
likelihood in this, for she could hardly believe that Wildeve would
really appropriate money belonging to her son. The intermediate course
of giving it to Eustacia was the sort of thing to please Wildeve's
fancy. But it filled the mother with anger none the less. That Wildeve
should have got command of the guineas after all, and should rearrange
the disposal of them, placing Clym's share in Clym's wife's hands,
because she had been his own sweetheart, and might be so still, was as
irritating a pain as any that Mrs. Yeobright had ever borne.

She instantly dismissed the wretched Christian from her employ for his
conduct in the affair; but, feeling quite helpless and unable to do
without him, told him afterwards that he might stay a little longer
if he chose. Then she hastened off to Eustacia, moved by a much less
promising emotion towards her daughter-in-law than she had felt half an
hour earlier, when planning her journey. At that time it was to inquire
in a friendly spirit if there had been any accidental loss; now it was
to ask plainly if Wildeve had privately given her money which had been
intended as a sacred gift to Clym.

She started at two o'clock, and her meeting with Eustacia was hastened
by the appearance of the young lady beside the pool and bank which
bordered her grandfather's premises, where she stood surveying the
scene, and perhaps thinking of the romantic enactments it had witnessed
in past days. When Mrs. Yeobright approached, Eustacia surveyed her with
the calm stare of a stranger.

The mother-in-law was the first to speak. "I was coming to see you," she
said.

"Indeed!" said Eustacia with surprise, for Mrs. Yeobright, much to the
girl's mortification, had refused to be present at the wedding. "I did
not at all expect you."

"I was coming on business only," said the visitor, more coldly than at
first. "Will you excuse my asking this--Have you received a gift from
Thomasin's husband?"

"A gift?"

"I mean money!"

"What--I myself?"

"Well, I meant yourself, privately--though I was not going to put it in
that way."

"Money from Mr. Wildeve? No--never! Madam, what do you mean by that?"
Eustacia fired up all too quickly, for her own consciousness of the old
attachment between herself and Wildeve led her to jump to the conclusion
that Mrs. Yeobright also knew of it, and might have come to accuse her
of receiving dishonourable presents from him now.

"I simply ask the question," said Mrs. Yeobright. "I have been----"

"You ought to have better opinions of me--I feared you were against me
from the first!" exclaimed Eustacia.

"No. I was simply for Clym," replied Mrs. Yeobright, with too much
emphasis in her earnestness. "It is the instinct of everyone to look
after their own."

"How can you imply that he required guarding against me?" cried
Eustacia, passionate tears in her eyes. "I have not injured him by
marrying him! What sin have I done that you should think so ill of me?
You had no right to speak against me to him when I have never wronged
you."

"I only did what was fair under the circumstances," said Mrs. Yeobright
more softly. "I would rather not have gone into this question at
present, but you compel me. I am not ashamed to tell you the honest
truth. I was firmly convinced that he ought not to marry you--therefore
I tried to dissuade him by all the means in my power. But it is done
now, and I have no idea of complaining any more. I am ready to welcome
you."

"Ah, yes, it is very well to see things in that business point of view,"
murmured Eustacia with a smothered fire of feeling. "But why should you
think there is anything between me and Mr. Wildeve? I have a spirit
as well as you. I am indignant; and so would any woman be. It was a
condescension in me to be Clym's wife, and not a manoeuvre, let me
remind you; and therefore I will not be treated as a schemer whom it
becomes necessary to bear with because she has crept into the family."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Yeobright, vainly endeavouring to control her anger. "I
have never heard anything to show that my son's lineage is not as
good as the Vyes'--perhaps better. It is amusing to hear you talk of
condescension."

"It was condescension, nevertheless," said Eustacia vehemently. "And if
I had known then what I know now, that I should be living in this wild
heath a month after my marriage, I--I should have thought twice before
agreeing."

"It would be better not to say that; it might not sound truthful. I
am not aware that any deception was used on his part--I know there was
not--whatever might have been the case on the other side."

"This is too exasperating!" answered the younger woman huskily, her face
crimsoning, and her eyes darting light. "How can you dare to speak to me
like that? I insist upon repeating to you that had I known that my life
would from my marriage up to this time have been as it is, I should have
said NO. I don't complain. I have never uttered a sound of such a thing
to him; but it is true. I hope therefore that in the future you will be
silent on my eagerness. If you injure me now you injure yourself."

"Injure you? Do you think I am an evil-disposed person?"

"You injured me before my marriage, and you have now suspected me of
secretly favouring another man for money!"

"I could not help what I thought. But I have never spoken of you outside
my house."

"You spoke of me within it, to Clym, and you could not do worse."

"I did my duty."

"And I'll do mine."

"A part of which will possibly be to set him against his mother. It is
always so. But why should I not bear it as others have borne it before
me!"

"I understand you," said Eustacia, breathless with emotion. "You
think me capable of every bad thing. Who can be worse than a wife who
encourages a lover, and poisons her husband's mind against his relative?
Yet that is now the character given to me. Will you not come and drag
him out of my hands?"

Mrs. Yeobright gave back heat for heat.

"Don't rage at me, madam! It ill becomes your beauty, and I am not worth
the injury you may do it on my account, I assure you. I am only a poor
old woman who has lost a son."

"If you had treated me honourably you would have had him still."
Eustacia said, while scalding tears trickled from her eyes. "You have
brought yourself to folly; you have caused a division which can never be
healed!"

"I have done nothing. This audacity from a young woman is more than I
can bear."

"It was asked for; you have suspected me, and you have made me speak of
my husband in a way I would not have done. You will let him know that I
have spoken thus, and it will cause misery between us. Will you go away
from me? You are no friend!"

"I will go when I have spoken a word. If anyone says I have come here to
question you without good grounds for it, that person speaks untruly.
If anyone says that I attempted to stop your marriage by any but honest
means, that person, too, does not speak the truth. I have fallen on an
evil time; God has been unjust to me in letting you insult me! Probably
my son's happiness does not lie on this side of the grave, for he is a
foolish man who neglects the advice of his parent. You, Eustacia, stand
on the edge of a precipice without knowing it. Only show my son one-half
the temper you have shown me today--and you may before long--and you
will find that though he is as gentle as a child with you now, he can be
as hard as steel!"

The excited mother then withdrew, and Eustacia, panting, stood looking
into the pool.


</CHAPTER>

 It's July. Eustacia and Clym are in the honeymoon phase of their marriage and spend their days frolicking about the heath and gazing at one another. But not everything is all sunshine and roses - Eustacia is getting increasingly antsy and wants to move to Paris, while Clym is getting anxious about starting his school. Meanwhile, Thomasin was surprised by how much money her aunt had given her and wrote her a thank you note. Christian is terrified and can't even speak to Mrs. Yeobright anymore. So Mrs. Yeobright gets increasingly suspicious about things, especially when she never gets a thank you note from Clym. Mrs. Yeobright then decides to go see Eustacia and find out whether or not they got the money or not. Christian finds out about her plan and confesses that he lost the money to Wildeve. Mrs. Yeobright is furious and fires him. Mrs. Yeobright convinces herself that Damon gave the money to Eustacia. So she confronts her daughter-in-law and Eustacia is insulted by the insinuation that she's a prostitute or something. The two have a huge argument and part on very bad terms. Mrs. Yeobright warns Eustacia that she'll lose Clym's love if she shows him her temper.

