 Essay on the Trial by Jerry by Lysander Spooner Section 1 An excerpt from The Trial by Jerry as defined by Magna Carta This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Essay on the Trial by Jerry by Lysander Spooner Essay on the Trial by Jerry as defined by Magna Carta That the Trial by Jerry is all that has been claimed for it in the preceding chapter is proved both by the history and the language of the great charter of English liberties to which we are to look for a true definition of the Trial by Jerry and of which the guarantee for that Trial is the vital and most memorable part Section 1 The History of Magna Carta In order to judge of the object and meaning of that chapter of Magna Carta which secures the Trial by Jerry It is to be borne in mind that at the time of Magna Carta the king with exceptions immaterial to this discussion but which will appear hereafter was constitutionally the entire government the sole legislative judicial and executive power of the nation The executive and judicial officers were merely his servants appointed by him and removable at his pleasure In addition to this, quote, the king himself often sat in his court which always attended his person He therefore heard causes and pronounced judgment and though he was assisted by the advice of other members it is not to be imagined that a decision could be obtained contrary to his inclination or opinion end, quote, Footnote 1 Judges were in those days and afterwards such abject servants of the king that, quote, we find that King Edward I, 1272-1307 find and imprisoned his judges in the same manner as Alfred the Great among the Saxons had done before him by the sole exercise of his authority end, quote, Footnote 2 Parliament, so far as there was a parliament was a mere counsel of the king Footnote 3 It assembled only at the pleasure of the king sat only during his pleasure and when sitting had no power so far as general legislation was concerned beyond that of simply advising the king The only legislation to which their assent was constitutionally necessary was demands for money and military services for extraordinary occasions Even Magna Carta itself makes no provisions whatsoever for any parliaments except when the king should want means to carry on war or to meet some other extraordinary necessity Footnote 4 He had no need of parliaments to raise taxes for the ordinary purposes of government For his revenues from the rents of the crown lands and other sources were ample for all except extraordinary occasions Parliaments too, when assembled, consisted only of bishops, barons and other great men of the kingdom unless the king chose to invite others Footnote 5 There was no House of Commons at that time and the people had no right to be heard unless as petitioners Footnote 6 Even when laws were made at the time of a parliament they were made in the name of the king alone Sometimes it was inserted in the laws that they were made with the consent or advice of the bishops, barons, and others assembled but often this was omitted Their consent or advice was evidently a matter of no legal importance to the enactment or validity of the laws but only inserted, when inserted at all with a view of obtaining a more willing submission to them on the part of the people The style of enactment generally was either the king wills and commands or some other form significant of the sole legislative authority of the king The king could pass laws at any time when it pleased him The presence of a parliament was wholly unnecessary Hume says, quote, it is asserted by Sir Harry Spellman as an undoubted fact that during the reigns of the Norman princes every order of the king issued with the consent of his privy council had the full force of law end, quote, Footnote 7 and other authorities abundantly corroborate this assertion Footnote 8 The king was, therefore, constitutionally the government and the only legal limitation upon his powers seems to have been simply the common law usually called, quote, the law of the land which he was bound by oath to maintain which oath had about the same practical value as similar oaths have always had this, quote, law of the land seems not to have been regarded at all by many of the kings except so far as they found it convenient to do so or were constrained to observe it by the fear of arousing resistance but as all people are slow in making resistance oppression and usurpation often reached a great height and in the case of John they had become so intolerable as to enlist the nation almost universally against him and he was reduced to the necessity of complying with any terms the barons saw fit to dictate to him it was under these circumstances that the great charter of English liberties was granted the barons of England sustained by the common people having their king in their power compelled him as the prince of his throne to pledge himself that he would punish no free man for a violation of any of his laws unless with the consent of the peers that is the equals of the accused the question here arises whether the barons and people intended that those peers the jury should be mere puppets in the hands of the king exercising no opinion of their own to the intrinsic merits of the accusations they should try or the justice of the laws they should be called on to enforce whether those haughty and victorious barons when they had their tyrant king at their feet gave back to him his throne with full power to enact any tyrannical laws he might please reserving only to a jury quote the country the contemptible and servile privileges of ascertaining under the dictation of the king or his judges as to the laws of evidence the simple fact whether those laws had been transgressed was this the only restraint which when they had all power in their hands they placed upon the tyranny of a king whose oppressions they had risen in arms to resist was it to obtain such a charter as that that the whole nation had united as it were like one man against their king was it on such a charter that they intended to rely for all future time for the security of their liberties no, they were engaged in no such senseless work as that on the contrary when they required him to renounce forever the power to punish any free man unless by the consent of his peers they intended those powers should judge of and try the whole case on its merits independently of all arbitrary legislation or judicial authority on the part of the king in this way they took the liberties of each individual and thus the liberties of the whole people entirely out of the hands of the king and out of the power of his laws and placed them in the keeping of the people themselves and this it was that made the trial by jury the palladium of their liberties the trial by jury be it observed was the only real barrier interposed by them against absolute despotism could this trial then have been such an entire farce as it necessarily must have been if the jury had no power to judge of the justice of the laws that the people were required to obey did it not rather imply that the jury were to judge independently and fearlessly as to everything involved in the charge and especially as to its intrinsic justice and thereon give their decision unbiased by any legislation of the king whether the accused might be punished the reason of the king no less than the historical celebrity of the events as securing the liberties of the people and the veneration with which the trial by jury has continued to be regarded not withstanding its essence and vitality have been almost entirely extracted from it in practice would settle the question if other evidences had left the matter in doubt besides if his laws were to be authoritative with the jury why should John indignantly refuse as at first he did to grant the charter and finally grant it only when brought to the last extremity on the ground that it deprived him of all power and left him only the name of a king he evidently understood that the juries were to veto his laws and paralyze his power act discretion by forming their own opinions as to the true character of the offenses they were to try and the laws they were to be called on to enforce and that quote the king wills and commands end quote was to have no weight with them contrary to their own judgments of what was intrinsically right the barons and people having obtained by the charter all the liberties they had demanded of the king it was further provided by the charter itself that 25 barons should be appointed by the barons out of their number to keep special vigilance in the kingdom to see that the charter was observed with authority to make war upon the king in case of its violation the king also by the charter so far absolved all the people of the kingdom from their allegiance to him as to authorize and require them to swear to obey the 25 barons in case they should make war upon the king for infringement of the charter it was then thought by the barons and people that something substantial had been done for the security of their liberties this charter in its most essential features and without any abatement as to the trial by jury has since been confirmed more than 30 times and the people of England have always had a traditionary idea that it was of some value as a guarantee against oppression yet the idea has been an entire delusion unless the jury have had the right to judge of the justice of the laws they were called on to enforce and of section 1 of chapter 2 the trial by jury as defined by Magna Carta footnotes pertaining to this audio recording footnote 1 appears in the body of the text as quoted audio at 2 minutes and 4 seconds Hume appendix 2 footnote 2 quoted audio appearing in the body of this recording at 2 minutes and 43 seconds crabs history of the English law page 236 footnote 3 appearing in the body of this audio recording at 3 minutes and 16 seconds Cook says, quote, the King of England is armed with diverse councils one where of is called commune concilium the common council and that is the court of parliament and so it is legally called in ritz and judicial proceedings Comanche concilium Ragnay Anglicay the common council of the kingdom of England and another is called magnum concilium great council this is sometimes applied to the upper house of parliament and sometimes out of parliament time to the peers of the realm lords of parliament who are called magnum concilium regis the great council of the king thirdly as every man knoweth the king hath a privy council for matters of state the fourth council of the king are his judges for law matters and, quote, one Cook's institutes 110A footnote 4 appearing in the body of this audio recording at 4 minutes and 8 seconds the great charter of Henry III, 1216 and 1225 confirmed by Edward I, 1297 makes no provision whatsoever for or mention of a parliament unless the provision, chapter 37, that, quote, sq. age a military contribution from hence forward shall be taken like as it was want to be in the time of King Henry, our grandfather end quote mean that a parliament shall be summoned for that purpose footnote 5 appearing in the body of this audio recording at 4 minutes and 44 seconds the Magna Carta of John, chapter 17 and 18 defines those who were entitled to be summoned to parliament to wit, quote, the archbishops, bishops, abbots, generals and great barons of the realm and all others who hold of us in chief, end quote those who held land of the king in chief included none below the rank of knights footnote 6 appearing in the body of this audio recording at 4 minutes and 56 seconds the parliaments of that time were doubtless such as Carlisle describes them when he says, quote, the parliament was at first a most simple assemblage quite cognate to the situation that Red William or whoever had taken on him the terrible task of being king of England was want to invite oftenest about Christmastime his subordinate kinglet barons as he called them to give him the pleasure of their company for a week or two there in earnest conference all morning in freer talk over Christmas cheer all evening in some big royal hall of Westminster Winchester or wherever it might be with log fires huge rounds of roast and boiled not lacking Malmsey and other generous liquor they took counsel concerning the arduous matters of the kingdom end quote footnote 7 appears as quoted audio in the body of this recording at 6 minutes and 9 seconds Hume appendix 2 footnote 8 appears in the body of this recording at 6 minutes and 37 seconds this point will be more fully established here after footnote 9 appears in the body of this audio recording at 14 minutes and 5 seconds it is plain that the king and all his partisans looked upon the charter as utterly prostrating the king's legislative supremacy before the discretion of juries when the schedule of liberties demanded by the barons was shown to him of which the trial by jury was the most important because it was the only one that protected all the rest quote the king falling into a violent passion asked why the barons did not with these exactions demand his kingdom and with the solemn oath protested that he would never grant such liberties as would make himself a slave end quote but afterwards quote seeing himself deserted and fearing they would seize his castles he sent the Earl of Pembroke and other faithful messengers to them to let them know he would grant them the laws and liberties they desired end quote but after the charter had been granted quote the king's mercenary soldiers desiring war more than peace were by their leaders continually whispering in his ears that he was no longer a king but the scorn of other princes and that it was more eligible to be no king than such a one as he end quote he applied to the Pope that he might by his apostolic authority make void what the barons had done at Rome he met with what success he could desire where all the transactions with the barons were fully represented to the Pope and the charter of liberties shown to him in writing which when he had carefully perused he with a furious look cried out what do the barons of England endeavor to dethrone the king who has taken upon him the Holy Cross and is under the protection of the apostolic sea and would they force him to transfer the dominions of the Roman church to others by Saint Peter this injury must not pass unpunished then debating the matter with the cardinals he by a definitive sentence damned and cascaded forever the charter of liberties and sent the king a bull containing that sentence at large end quote Eckerd's history of England page 106 to 107 these things show that the nature and effect of the charter were well understood by the king and his friends that they all agreed that he was effectually stripped of power yet the legislative power had not been taken from him but only the power to enforce his laws unless juries should freely consent to their enforcement end of footnotes Recording by Robert Scott mojo move 411.com M-O-J-O-M-O-V-E 411.com September the 21st, 2007 The Allegory of the Cave from Book 7 of the Republic by Plato This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Read by Carolyn Francis And now, I said, Let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened Behold, human beings living in an underground den which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den Here they have been from their childhood and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move and can only see before them being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way like the screen which marionette players have in front of them over which they show the puppets I see And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone in various materials which appear over the wall some of them are talking, other silent You have shown me a strange image and they are strange prisoners Like ourselves, I replied They see only their own shadows or the shadows of one another which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave True, he said How could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows Yes, he said And if they were able to converse with one another Would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them? Very true And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side Would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passer-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow No question, he replied To them, I said the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images That is certain And now look again and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled to suddenly stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light he will suffer sharp pains the glare will distress him and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows and then conceive someone saying to him that what he saw before was an illusion but that now when he is approaching nearer to being and his eyes turn more towards real existence he has a clearer vision What will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them Will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him? Far truer And if he is compelled to look straight at the light will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take and take in the objects of vision which he can see and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him? True, he said And suppose once more that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent and held fast until he is forced into the presence of the sun himself Is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities Not all in a moment, he said He will require to grow accustomed to the side of the upper world and first he will see the shadows best next the reflections of men and other objects in the water and then the objects themselves Then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day Certainly, last of he will be able to see the sun and not mere reflections of him in the water but he will see him in his own proper place and not in another and he will contemplate him as he is Certainly, he will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold Clearly, he said he would first see the sun and then reason about him and when he remembered his old habitation and the wisdom of the den and his fellow prisoners Do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change and pity them? Certainly, he would and if they were in the habit of conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before and which followed after and which were together and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future Do you think that he would care for such honors and glories? Or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer better to be the poor servant of a poor master and to endure anything rather than think as they do and live after their manner? Yes, he said I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner Imagine once more, I said such in one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation Would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness? To be sure, he said and if there were a contest and he had to contemplate in measuring the shadows with his prisoners who had never moved out of the den while his sight was still weak and before his eyes had become steady and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable Would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that he went up and down he came without his eyes and that it was better not even to think of ascending and if anyone tried to loose another and lead him up to the light let them only catch the offender and they would put him to death No question, he said This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glockon to the previous argument The prison house is the world of sight the light of the fire is the sun and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief which, at your desire I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly God knows but whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all and is seen only with an effort and when seen is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right parent of light and of the Lord of light in this visible world and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed End of the Allegory of the Cave from Book 7 of the Republic by Plato Chapter 5 from the Canterville Ghost by Oscar Wilde This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Read by Carolyn Francis A few days after this Virginia and her curly haired cavalier went out riding on broccoli meadows where she tore her habit so badly in getting through a hedge that on her return home she made up her mind to go up by the back staircase so as not to be seen As she was running past the tapestry chamber the door of which happened to be open she fancied she saw someone inside and thinking it was her mother's maid who sometimes used to bring her work there looked in to ask her to mend her habit To her immense surprise, however it was the Canterville Ghost himself He was sitting by the window watching the ruined gold of the yellow trees fly through the air with the red leaves dancing madly down the Long Avenue His head was leaning on his hand and his whole attitude was one of extreme depression Indeed, so forlorn and so much out of repair did he look that little Virginia whose first idea had been to run away and lock herself in her room was filled with pity and determined to try and comfort him It was her footfall and so deep his melancholy that he was not aware of her presence till she spoke to him I am so sorry for you, she said but my brothers are going back to eat and tomorrow and then, if you behave yourself no one will annoy you It is absurd asking me to behave myself he answered, looking round in astonishment at the pretty little girl who had ventured to address him Quite absurd I must rattle my chains and groan through keyholes and walk about at night if that is what you mean It is my only reason for existing It is no reason at all for existing and you know you have been very wicked Mrs. Umney told us the first day we arrived here that you had killed your wife Well, I quite admit it, said the ghost petulantly but it was a purely family matter and a concern no one else It was very wrong to kill anyone said Virginia who at times had a sweet puritan gravity caught from some old New England ancestor Oh, I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics My wife was very plain never had my roughs properly starched and knew nothing about cookery Why, there was a buck I had shot in Hoggly Woods a magnificent pricket Do you know how she had it set up to table? However, it is no matter now for it is all over and I don't think it was very nice of her brothers to starve me to death though I did kill her Starve you to death? Oh, Mr. Ghost, I mean, Sir Simon Are you hungry? I have a sandwich in my case Would you like it? No, thank you I never eat anything now but it is very kind of you all the same and you are much nicer than the rest of your horrid, rude, vulgar, dishonest family Stop! cried Virginia, stamping her foot It is you who are rude and horrid and vulgar and as for dishonesty you know you stole the paints out of my box to try and furbish up that ridiculous bloodstain in the library First you took all my reds including the vermilion and I couldn't do any more sunsets and then you took the emerald green and the chrome yellow and finally I had nothing left but indigo and Chinese white and could only do moonlit scenes which are always depressing to look at and not at all easy to paint I never told on you though I was very much annoyed and it was most ridiculous the whole thing for whoever heard of emerald green blood Well, really, said the Ghost rather meekly What was I to do? It is a very difficult thing to get real blood nowadays and as your brother began it all with his paragon detergent I certainly saw no reason why I should not have your paints As for color that is always a matter of taste The cantervilles have blue blood for instance the very bluest in England but I know you Americans don't care for things of this kind You know nothing about it and the best thing you can do is emigrate and improve your mind My father will be only too happy to give you free passage and though there is heavy duty on spirits of every kind there will be no difficulty about the custom house as the officers are all Democrats Once in New York you are sure to be a great success I know lots of people there who would give a hundred thousand dollars to have a grandfather and much more than that to have a family ghost I don't think I should like America I suppose because we have no ruins and no curiosities said Virginia satirically No ruins, no curiosities answered the ghost You have your navy and your manners Good evening I will go and ask Papa to get the twins an extra week's holiday Please don't go Miss Virginia he cried I am so lonely and so unhappy and I really don't know what to do I want to go to sleep and I cannot That's quite absurd You have merely to go to bed and blow out the candle It is very difficult sometimes to keep awake especially at church but there is no difficulty at all about sleeping Why, even babies know how to do that and they are not very clever I have not slept for three hundred years he said sadly and Virginia's beautiful blue eyes opened in wonder For three hundred years I have not slept and I am so tired Virginia grew quite grave and her little lips trembled like rose leaves She came towards him and kneeling down at his side looked up into his old withered face Our poor ghost she murmured Have you no place where you can sleep Far away beyond the pine woods he answered in a low dreamy voice There is a little garden There the grass grows long and deep There are the great white stars of the hemlock flower There the nightingale sings all night long All night long he sings and the cold crystal moon looks down and the yew tree spreads out its giant arms over the sleepers Virginia's eyes grew dim with tears and she hit her face in her hands You mean the garden of death she whispered Yes, death death must be so beautiful to lie in the soft brown earth with the grasses waving above one's head and listen to silence to have no yesterday and no tomorrow to forget time, to forget life to be at peace You can help me You can open for me the portals of death's house for love is always with you and love is stronger than death is Virginia trembled a cold shutter ran through her and for a few moments there was silence She felt as if she was in a terrible dream Then the ghost spoke again and his voice sounded like the sighing of the wind Have you ever read the old prophecy on the library window? Oh, often cried the little girl looking up I know it quite well It is painted in curious black letters It is difficult to read There are only six lines When a golden girl can win prayer from out the lips of sin when the barren almond bears and a little child gives away its tears then shall all the house be still and peace come to Canterville But I don't know what they mean They mean, he said sadly that you must weep for me for my sins because I have no tears and pray with me for my soul because I have no faith and then, if you have always been sweet and good and gentle the angel of death will have mercy on me You will see fearful shapes in darkness and wicked voices will whisper in your ear but they will not harm you for against the purity of a little child the powers of hell cannot prevail Virginia made no answer and the ghost wrung his hands in wild despair as he looked down at her bowed golden head Suddenly, she stood up, very pale and with a strange light in her eyes I am not afraid, she said firmly and I will ask the angel to have mercy on you He rose from his seat with a faint cry of joy and taking her hand bent over it with old-fashioned grace and kissed it His fingers were as cold as ice and his lips burned like fire but Virginia did not falter as he led her across the dusky room On the faded green tapestry were broodered little huntsmen They blew their tassled horns and with their tiny hands waved to her to go back Go back, little Virginia, they cried Go back! But the ghost clutched her hand more tightly and she shut her eyes against them Horrible animals with lizard tails and googly eyes blinked at her from the carbon chimney piece and murmured Beware, little Virginia Beware, we may never see you again But the ghost glided on more swiftly and Virginia did not listen When they reached the end of the room he stopped and muttered some words she could not understand She opened her eyes and saw the wall slowly fading away like a mist and a great black cavern in front of her A bitter cold wind swept round them and she felt something pulling at her dress Quick, quick, cried the ghost or it will be too late and in a moment the wanes coating had closed behind them and the tapestry chamber was empty End of Chapter 5 from The Canterville Ghost by Oscar Wilde This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information, please visit LibriVox.org Night and Day by Virginia Woolf Chapter 18 But other passengers were approaching Lincoln meanwhile by other roads on foot A country town draws the inhabitants of all vicarages farms, country houses and wayside cottages within a radius of ten miles at least once or twice a week to its streets and among them on this occasion were Ralph Denham and Mary Dashett They despised the roads and took their way across the fields and yet from their appearance it did not seem as if they cared much where they walked so long as the way did not actually trip them up When they left the vicarage they had begun an argument which swung so rhythmically in time with it that they covered the ground at over four miles an hour and saw nothing of the hedgerows the swelling plowland or the mild blue sky What they saw were the houses of parliament and the government offices in Whitehall They both belonged to the class which is conscious of having lost its birthright in these great structures and is seeking to build another kind of lodging for its own notion of law and government Purposely perhaps Mary did not agree with Ralph She loved to feel her mind in conflict with his and to be certain that he spared her female judgment no ounce of his male muscularity He seemed to argue as fiercely with her as if she were his brother They were alike however in believing that it behooved them to take in hand to repair and reconstruction of the fabric of England They agreed in thinking that nature has not been generous in the endowment of our counsellors They agreed unconsciously and amused love for the muddy field through which they tramped with eyes narrowed closed by the concentration of their minds At length they drew breath let the argument fly away into the limbo of other good arguments and leaning over a gate opened their eyes for the first time and looked about them Their feet tingled with warm blood and their breath rose in steam around them The bodily exercise made them both feel more direct and less self-conscious than usual and Mary indeed was overcome by a sort of light-headedness which made it seem to her that it mattered very little what happened next It mattered so little indeed that she felt herself on the point of saying to Ralph I love you, I shall never love anybody else marry me or leave me think what you like of me, I don't care a straw At the moment however speech or silence seemed immaterial and she merely clapped her hands together and looked at the distant woods with the rust-like bloom on their brown and the green and brown landscape through the steam of her own breath It seemed a mere toss-up whether she said, I love you or whether she said, I love the beech trees or only, I love, I love Do you know Mary? Ralph suddenly interrupted her I've made up my mind Her indifference must have been superficial for it disappeared at once Indeed she lost sight of the trees and saw her own hand upon the topmost bar of the gate with extreme distinctness while he went on I've made up my mind to check my work and live down here I want you to tell me about that cottage you spoke of However, I suppose there'll be no difficulty about getting a cottage, will there? He spoke with an assumption of carelessness as if expecting her to dissuade him She still waited as if for him to continue She was convinced that in some roundabout way he approached the subject of their marriage I can't stand the office any longer He proceeded, I don't know what my family will say but I'm sure I'm right, don't you think so? Live down here by yourself, she asked Some old woman would do for me, I suppose He replied, I'm sick of the whole thing He went on and opened the gate with a jerk They began to cross the next field walking side by side I tell you, Mary, it's other destruction working away day after day at stuff that doesn't matter a damn to anyone I've stood eight years of it and I'm not going to stand it any longer I suppose this all seems to you mad, though By this time Mary had recovered her self-control No, I thought you weren't happy, she said Why did you think that? he asked with some surprise Don't you remember that morning in Lincoln's infields? she asked Yes, said Ralph, slackening his pace and remembering Catherine and her engagement The purple leaves stamped into the path The white paper radiant under the electric light And the hopelessness which seemed to surround all these things You're right, Mary, he said with something of an effort Though I don't know how you guessed it She was silent, hoping that he might tell her the reason of his unhappiness For his excuses had not deceived her I was unhappy, very unhappy, he repeated Some six weeks separated him from that afternoon When he had sat upon the embankment watching his visions dissolve and mist As the waters swam past and the sense of his desolation still made him shiver He had not recovered in the least from that depression Here was an opportunity for making himself face it, as he felt he ought to For by this time, no doubt, it was only a sentimental ghost Better exercised by ruthless exposure to such an eye as Mary's Than allowed to underlie all his actions and thoughts As had been the case ever since he first saw Catherine Hilberry pouring out tea He must begin, however, by mentioning her name And this he found it impossible to do He persuaded himself that he could make an honest statement without speaking her name He persuaded himself that his feeling had very little to do with her Unhappiness is a state of mind He said, by which I mean that it is not necessarily the result of any particular cause This rather stilted beginning did not please him And it became more and more obvious to him that, whatever he might say His unhappiness had been directly caused by Catherine I began to find my life unsatisfactory He started afresh, it seemed to me meaningless He paused again, but felt that this at any rate was true And that on these lines he could go on All this money-making and working ten hours a day in an office, what's it for? When one's a boy, you see, one's head is so full of dreams That it doesn't seem to matter what one does And if you're ambitious, you're all right You've got a reason for going on Now my reason ceased to satisfy me Perhaps I never had any That's very likely now that I come to think of it My reason is there for anything, though Still it's impossible, after a certain age, to take oneself in satisfactorily And I know what carried me on For a good reason now occurred to him I wanted to be the saviour of my family and all that kind of thing I wanted them to get on in the world That was a lie, of course, a kind of self-glorification, too Like most people, I suppose I've lived almost entirely among delusions At the awkward stage of finding it out I want another delusion to go on with That's what my unhappiness amounts to, Mary There were two reasons that kept Mary very silent during this speech And drew curiously straight lines upon her face In the first place, Ralph made no mention of marriage In the second, he was not speaking the truth I don't think it will be difficult to find a cottage She said with cheerful hardness Ignoring the whole of this statement You've got a little money, haven't you? Yes, she concluded I don't see why it shouldn't be a very good plan Across the field, in complete silence Ralph was surprised by her remark and a little hurt And yet, on the whole, rather pleased He had convinced himself that it was impossible to lay his case truthfully before Mary And secretly he was relieved to find that he had not parted with his dream to her She was, as he had always found her, the sensible, loyal friend The woman he trusted, whose sympathy he could count upon Provided he kept within certain limits He was not displeased to find that those limits were very clearly marked When they had crossed the next hedge, she said to him Yes, Ralph, it's time you made a break I've come to the same conclusion myself Only it won't be a country cottage, in my case It'll be America America, she cried, that's the place for me They'll teach me something about organizing a movement there And I'll come back and show you how to do it If she meant consciously or unconsciously to belittle the seclusion and security Of a country cottage, she did not succeed Ralph's determination was genuine But she made him visualize her in her own character So that he looked quickly at her As she walked a little in front of him across the plowed field For the first time that morning he saw her independently of him Or of his preoccupation with Catherine He seemed to see her marching ahead A rather clumsy but powerful and independent figure For whose courage he felt the greatest respect Don't go away, Mary, he exclaimed, and stopped That's what you said before, Ralph, she returned Without looking at him You want to go away yourself and you don't want me to go away That's not very sensible, is it? Mary, he cried Stung by the remembrance of his exacting and dictatorial ways with her What a brute I've been to you It took all her strength to keep the tears from springing And to thrust back her assurance that she would forgive him till doomsday if he chose She was preserved from doing so only by a stubborn kind of respect for herself Which lay at the root of her nature and forbade surrender Even in moments of almost overwhelming passion Now when all was tempest and high-running waves She knew of a land where the sun shone clear upon Italian grammars And the files of docketed papers Nevertheless, from the skeleton pallor of that land And the rocks that broke its surface She knew that her life there would be harsh and lonely Almost beyond endurance She walked steadily a little in front of him across the plowed field Their way took them round the verge of a wood of thin trees Standing at the edge of a steep fold in the land Looking between the tree trunks Ralph's soul laid out on the perfectly flat and richly green meadow At the bottom of the hill a small gray manor house With ponds, terraces, and clipped hedges in front of it A farm-building or so at the side And a screen of fir trees rising behind All perfectly sheltered and self-sufficient Behind the house the hill rose again And the trees on the farther summit stood upright against the sky Which appeared of a more intense blue between their trunks His mind at once was filled with a sense of the actual presence of Catherine The gray house and the intense blue sky Gave him the feeling of her presence close by He lent against a tree forming her name beneath his breath Catherine, Catherine, he said aloud And then looking round saw Mary walking slowly away from him Tearing a long spray of ivy from the trees as she passed them She seemed so definitely opposed to the vision he held in his mind That he returned to it with a gesture of impatience Catherine, Catherine, he repeated And seemed to himself to be with her He lost his sense of all that surrounded him All substantial things, the hour of the day What we have done and are about to do The presence of other people and the support we derive from Seeing their belief in a common reality All this slipped from him So he might have felt if the earth had dropped from his feet And the empty blue had hung all round him And the air had been steeped in the presence of one woman The chirp of a robin on the bow above his head awakened him And his awakening was accompanied by a sigh Here was the world in which he had lived Here the plowed field, the high road yonder, and Mary Stripping ivy from the trees When he came up with her he linked his arm through hers and said Now Mary, what's all this about America? There was a brotherly kindness in his voice Which seemed to her magnanimous When she reflected that she had cut short his explanations And shown little interest in his change of plan She gave him her reasons for thinking that she might profit By such a journey, omitting the one reason Which had set all the rest in motion He listened attentively and made no attempt to dissuade her In truth he found himself curiously eager To make certain of her good sense And accepted each fresh proof of it with satisfaction That would help him to make up his mind about something She forgot the pain he had caused her And in place of it she became conscious of a steady tide of well-being Which harmonized very aptly with the tramp of their feet Upon the dry road and the support of his arm The comfort was the more glowing in that it seemed to be The reward of her determination to behave to him simply And without attempting to be other than she was Instead of making out an interest in the poets She avoided them instinctively and dwelt rather insistently Upon the practical nature of her gifts In a practical way she asked for particulars of his cottage Which hardly existed in his mind and corrected his vagueness You must see that there's water, she insisted With an exaggeration of interest She avoided asking him what he meant to do in this cottage And at last, when all the practical details Had been thrashed out as much as possible He rewarded her by a more intimate statement One of the rooms, he said, must be my study For you see, Mary, I'm going to write a book Here he withdrew his arm from hers, lit his pipe And they tramped on in a sagacious kind of comradeship The most complete they had attained in all their friendship And what's your book to be about, she asked As boldly as if she had never come to grief with Ralph In talking about books He told her, unhesitatingly, that he meant to write the history Of the English village from Saxon days to the present time Some such plan had lain as a seed in his mind for many years And now that he had decided, in a flash, to give up his profession The seed grew in the space of twenty minutes, both tall and lusty He was surprised himself at the positive way in which he spoke It was the same with the question of his cottage That had come into existence too, in an unromantic shape A square white house standing just off the high road, no doubt Was a neighbor who kept a pig in a dozen squalling children For these plans were shorn of all romance in his mind And the pleasure he derived from thinking of them Was checked directly at past a very sober limit So a sensible man who has lost his chance of some beautiful inheritance Might tread out the narrow bounds of his actual dwelling-place But assure himself that life is supportable within its domain Only one must grow turnips and cabbages, not melons and pomegranates Certainly Ralph took some pride in the resources of his mind And was insensibly helped to write himself by Mary's trust in him She wound her ivy spray round her ash-plant And for the first time for many days, when alone with Ralph Set no spies upon her motives, sayings, and feelings But surrendered herself to complete happiness Thus talking, with easy silences and some pauses To look at the view over the hedge And to decide upon the species of a little grey brown bird Slipping among the twigs, they walked into Lincoln And after strolling up and down the main street Decided upon an inn where the rounded windows suggested substantial fare Nor were they mistaken. For over a hundred and fifty years Hot joints, potatoes, greens, and apple puddings Had been served to generations of country gentlemen And now, sitting at a table in the hollow of the bow window Ralph and Mary took their share of this perennial feast Looking across the joint, halfway through the meal Mary wondered whether Ralph would ever come to look Quite like the other people in the room Would he be absorbed among the round pink faces Pricked with little white bristles The calves fitted in shiny brown leather The black and white check suits Which were sprinkled about in the same room with them She half hoped so. She thought that it was only in his mind That he was different. She did not wish him to be too different From other people. The walk had given him a ruddy colour too And his eyes were lit up by a steady, honest light Which could not make the simplest farmer feel ill at ease Or suggest to the most devout of clergymen A disposition to sneer at his faith She loved the steep cliff of his forehead And compared it to the brow of a young Greek horseman Who reins his horse back so sharply That it half falls on its haunches He always seemed to her like a rider on a spirited horse And there was an exultation to her in being with him Because there was a risk that he would not be able to keep To the right pace among other people Sitting opposite him at the little table in the window She came back to that state of careless exultation Which had overcome her when they halted by the gate But now it was accompanied by a sense of sanity and security For she felt that they had a feeling in common Which scarcely needed embodiment in words How silent he was, leaning his forehead on his hand Now and then, and again looking steadily and gravely At the backs of the two men at the next table With so little self-consciousness That she could almost watch his mind placing one thought Solidly upon the top of another She thought that she could feel him thinking Through the shade of her fingers And she could anticipate the exact moment And end to his thought and turn a little in his chair And say, well, Mary Inviting her to take up the thread of thought Where he had dropped it And at that very moment he turned just so And said, well, Mary With the curious touch of diffidence Which she loved in him She laughed and she explained her laugh On the spur of the moment by the look of the people In the street below There was a motor car with an old lady Swathed in blue veils and a lady's maid On the seat opposite, holding a King Charles Spaniel There was a country woman wheeling a perambulator Full of sticks down the middle of the road There was a bailiff and gators Discussing the state of the cattle market With a dissenting minister, so she defined them She ran over this list without any fear That her companion would think her trivial Indeed, whether it was due to the warmth of the room Or to the good roast beef Or whether Ralph had achieved the process Which is called making up one's mind Certainly he had given up testing the good sense The independent character The intelligence shown in her remarks He had been building one of those piles of thought As ramshackle and fantastic as a Chinese begota Half from words let fall by gentlemen and gators Half from the litter in his own mind About duck shooting and legal history About the Roman occupation of Lincoln And the relations of country gentlemen with their wives When, from all this disconnected rambling Suddenly formed itself in his mind The idea that he would ask Mary to marry him The idea was so spontaneous That it seemed to shape itself of its own accord Before his eyes It was then that he turned round and made use Of his old instinctive phrase Well, Mary As it presented itself to him at first The idea was so new and interesting That he was half inclined to address it Without more ado to Mary herself His natural instinct to divide his thoughts Carefully into two different classes Before he expressed them to her prevailed But as he watched her looking out of the window And describing the old lady The woman with the perambulator The bailiff and the dissenting minister His eyes filled involuntarily with tears He would have liked to lay his head on her shoulder And sob while she parted his hair with her fingers And soothed him and said There, there, don't cry Tell me why you're crying And they would clasp each other tight The arms would hold him like his mother's He felt that he was very lonely And that he was afraid of the other people In the room How damnable this all is, he exclaimed abruptly What are you talking about, she replied Rather vaguely, still looking out of the window He resented this divided attention More than perhaps he knew And he thought how Mary would soon be On her way to America Mary, he said, I want to talk to you Haven't we nearly done Take away these plates Mary felt his agitation without looking at him She felt convinced that she knew what it was That he wished to say to her They'll come all in good time, she said And felt it necessary to display her extreme calmness By lifting a salt cellar And sweeping up a little heap of breadcrumbs I want to apologize, Ralph continued Not quite knowing what he was about to say But feeling some curious instinct Which urged him to commit himself irrevocably The moment of intimacy from passing I think I've treated you very badly That is, I've told you lies Did you guess that I was lying to you Once in Lincoln's infield And again today on our walk I am a liar, Mary, did you know that? Do you think you do know me? I think I do, she said At this point, the waiter changed their plates It's true, I don't want you to go to America He said, looking fixedly at the tablecloth In fact, my feelings toward you seem to be Utterly and damnably bad He said energetically, although forced To keep his voice low If I weren't a selfish beast I should tell you to have nothing more to do with me And yet, Mary, in spite of the fact That I believe what I'm saying I also believe that it's good we should know each other The world being what it is, you see And by a nod of his head He indicated the other occupants of the room For, of course, in an ideal state of things In a decent community even There's no doubt you shouldn't have anything to do with me Seriously, that is You forget that I'm not an ideal character either Said Mary, in the same low and very earnest tones Which, in spite of being almost inaudible Surrounded their table with an atmosphere of concentration Which was quite perceptible to the other diners Who glanced at them now and then With a queer mixture of kindness, amusement, and curiosity I'm more selfish than I let on And I'm worldly a little More than you think anyhow I like bossing things Perhaps that's my greatest fault I've none of your passion for Here she hesitated and glanced at him As if to ascertain what his passion was for For the truth she added As if she had found what she had sought indisputably I've told you I'm a liar Ralph repeated obstinately Oh, in little things, I dare say She said impatiently She said to herself I dare say I'm more truthful than you are in small ways But I could never care She was surprised to find herself speaking the word And had to force herself to speak it out For anyone who was a liar in that way I love the truth a certain amount A considerable amount But not in the way you love it Her voice sank, became inaudible And wavered as if she could scarcely Keep herself from tears Good heavens, Ralph exclaimed to himself She loves me. Why did I never see it before? She's going to cry. No, but she can't speak The certainty overwhelmed him So that he scarcely knew what he was doing The blood rushed to his cheeks And although he had quite made up his mind To ask her to marry him The certainty that she loved him Seemed to change the situation So completely that he could not do it He did not dare to look at her If she cried he did not know what he should do It seemed to him that something of a terrible And devastating nature had happened The waiter changed their plates once more In his agitation Ralph Rose Turned his back upon Mary And looked out of the window The people in the street seemed to him Only a dissolving and combining pattern Of black particles which for the moment Represented very well the involuntary Procession of feelings and thoughts Which formed and dissolved in rapid succession In his own mind At one moment he exalted in the thought That Mary loved him At the next it seemed that he was without Feeling for her Her love was repulsive to him Now he felt urged to marry her at once Now to disappear and never see her again In order to control this disorderly Race of thought he forced himself To read the name on the chemist shop Directly opposite him then to examine The objects in the shop windows And then to focus his eyes exactly Upon a little group of women In the great windows of a large draper's shop This discipline having given him At least a superficial control of himself He was about to turn and ask the waiter To bring the bill when his eye was caught By a tall figure walking quickly Along the opposite pavement A tall figure upright dark and commanding Much detached from her surroundings She held her gloves in her left hand And the left hand was bare All this Ralph noticed and enumerated And recognized before he put a name To the whole Catherine Hillberry She seemed to be looking for somebody Her eyes in fact scanned both sides of the street And for one second were raised Directly to the bow window in which Ralph stood But she looked away again instantly Without giving any sign that she had seen him This sudden apparition had An extraordinary effect upon him It was as if he had thought of her so intensely That his mind had formed the shape of her Rather than that he had seen her in the flesh Outside in the street And yet he had not been thinking of her at all The impression was so intense That he could not dismiss it Nor even think whether he had seen her Or merely imagined her He sat down at once and said briefly And strangely rather to himself than to Mary That was Catherine Hillberry Catherine Hillberry, what do you mean? She asked, hardly understanding from his manner Whether he had seen her or not Catherine Hillberry, he repeated But she's gone now Catherine Hillberry, Mary thought In an instant of blinding revelation I've always known it was Catherine Hillberry She knew it all now After a moment of downcast stupor She raised her eyes, looked steadily at Ralph And caught his fixed and dreamy gaze Leveled at a point far beyond their surroundings A point that she had never reached And all the time that she had known him She noticed the lips just parted The fingers loosely clenched The whole attitude of wrapped contemplation Which fell like a veil between them She noticed everything about him If there had been other signs of his utter alienation She would have sought them out too For she felt that it was only by heaping One truth upon another That she could keep herself sitting there upright The truth seemed to support her It struck her even as she looked at his face That the light of truth was shining far away beyond him The light of truth she seemed to frame the words As she rose to go Shines on a world not to be shaken By her personal calamities Ralph handed her her coat and her stick She took them, fastened the coat securely Grasped the stick firmly The ivy spray was still twisted about the handle This one sacrifice she thought She might make to sentimentality and personality And she picked two leaves from the ivy And put them in her pocket Before she disencumbered her stick of the rest of it She grasped the stick in the middle And settled her fur cap closely upon her head As if she must be in trim for a long and stormy walk Next, standing in the middle of the road She took a slip of paper from her purse And read out loud a list of commissions entrusted to her Fruit, butter, strength, and so on And all the time she never spoke directly to Ralph Or looked at him Ralph heard her giving orders to attentive Rosie-cheeked men in white aprons And in spite of his own preoccupation He commented upon the determination With which she made her wishes known Once more he began, automatically, To take stock of her characteristics Standing thus, superficially observant And stirring the sawdust on the floor Meditatively with the toe of his boot He was roused by a musical and familiar voice behind him Accompanied by a light touch upon his shoulder I'm not mistaken, surely, Mr. Denham I caught a glimpse of your coat through the window And I felt sure that I knew your coat Have you seen Catherine or William? I'm wondering about Lincoln looking for the ruins It was Mrs. Hilbury Her entrance created some stir in the shop Many people looked at her First of all, tell me where I am, she demanded But catching sight of the attentive shopman She appealed to him The ruins My party is waiting for me at the ruins The Roman ruins Or Greek, Mr. Denham? The Roman has a great many beautiful things in it But I wish it hadn't so many ruins I never saw such delightful little pots of honey in my life Are they made by your own bees? Please give me one of those little pots And tell me how I shall find my way to the ruins And now, she continued, Having received the information and the pot of honey Having been introduced to Mary And having insisted that they should accompany her back to the ruins Since in a town with so many turnings Such prospects Such delightful little half-naked boys dabbling in pools Such Venetian canals Such old blue china in the curiosity shops It was impossible for one person all alone To find her way to the ruins Now, she exclaimed, Please tell me what you're doing here, Mr. Denham For you are Mr. Denham, aren't you? She inquired, gazing at him With sudden suspicion of her own accuracy The brilliant young man who writes for the review, I mean? Only yesterday my husband was telling me He thought you one of the cleverest young men he knew Certainly, you've been the messenger of Providence to me For unless I'd seen you, I'm sure I should never have found the ruins at all They had reached the Roman arch When Mrs. Hilbury caught sight of her own party Standing like sentinels facing up and down the road So as to intercept her if, as they expected, She had got lodged in some shop I've found something much better than ruins, she exclaimed I've found two friends who told me how to find you Which I could never have done without them They must come and have tea with us What a pity we've just had luncheon Could they not somehow revoke that meal? Catherine, who had gone a few steps by herself down the road And was investigating the window of an iron monger As if her mother might have got herself concealed Among mowing machines and garden shears Turned sharply on hearing her voice And came towards them She was a great deal surprised to see denim and Mary dash it Whether the cordiality with which she greeted them was merely that Which is natural to a surprise meeting in the country Or whether she was really glad to see them both At any rate she exclaimed was unusual pleasure as she shook hands I never knew you lived here Why didn't you say so, and we could have met And are you staying with Mary? She continued, turning to Ralph What a pity we didn't meet before Thus confronted at a distance of only a few feet By the real body of the woman About whom he had ramped so many million dreams Ralph stammered He made a clutch at his self-control The color either came to his cheeks or left them He knew not which But he was determined to face her And track down in the cold light of day Whatever vestige of truth there might be In his persistent imaginations He did not succeed in saying anything It was Mary who spoke for both of them He was struck dumb by finding that Catherine was quite different In some strange way from his memory So that he had to dismiss his old view In order to accept the new one The wind was blowing her crimson scarf across her face The wind had already loosened her hair Which looped across the corner of one of the large dark eyes Which, so he used to think, looked sad Now they look bright with the brightness of the sea Struck by an unclouded ray Everything about her seemed rapid, fragmentary And full of a kind of racing speed He realized suddenly that he had never seen her In the daylight before Meanwhile it was decided that it was too late To go in search of ruins as they had intended And the whole party began to walk towards the stables Where the carriage had been put up Do you know, said Catherine Keeping slightly in advance of the rest with Ralph I thought I saw you this morning standing at a window But I decided that it couldn't be you And it must have been you all the same Yes, I thought I saw you, but it wasn't you He replied This remark and the rough strain in his voice Recalled to her memory so many difficult speeches And abortive meetings that she was jerked directly back To the London drawing-room, the family relics, and the tea-table And at the same time recalled some half-finished Or interrupted remark which she had wanted to make herself Or to hear from him, she could not remember what it was I expect it was me, she said I was looking for my mother It happens every time we come to Lincoln In fact, there never was a family so unable to take care of itself as ours is Not that it very much matters Because someone always turns up in the nick of time to help us out of our scrapes Once I was left in a field with a bull when I was a baby But where did we leave the carriage? Down that street or the next? The next, I think She glanced back and saw that the others were following obediently Listening to certain memories of Lincoln upon which Mrs. Hilbury had started But what are you doing here? She asked I'm buying a cottage I'm going to live here as soon as I can find a cottage And Mary tells me there'll be no difficulty about that But she exclaimed, almost standing still in her surprise You will give up the bar then It flashed across her mind that he must already be engaged to Mary The solicitor's office? Yes, I'm giving that up But why? She asked She answered herself at once with a curious change from rapid speech to an almost melancholy tone I think you're very wise to give it up You will be much happier At this very moment when her words seemed to be striking a path into the future for him They stepped into the yard of an inn And there beheld the family coach of the Otways To which one sleek horse was already attached While the second was being led out of the stable door by the hostler I don't know what one means by happiness He said briefly, having to step aside in order to avoid a groom with a bucket Why do you think I shall be happy? I don't expect to be anything of the kind I expect to be rather less unhappy I shall write a book and curse my charwoman If happiness consists in that, what do you think? She could not answer because they were immediately surrounded by other members of the party By Mrs. Hilbury and Mary, Henry Otway and William Rodney went up to Catherine immediately and said to her Henry is going to drive home with your mother And I suggest that they should put us down halfway and let us walk back Catherine nodded her head She glanced at him with an oddly furtive expression Unfortunately we go in opposite directions Or we might have given you a lift He continued to denim This manner was unusually peremptory He seemed anxious to hasten the departure And Catherine looked at him from time to time As denim noticed With an expression half of inquiry, half of annoyance She at once helped her mother into her cloak And said to Mary, I want to see you Are you going back to London at once? I will write She half smiled at Ralph but her look was a little overcast By something she was thinking And in a very few minutes the Otway carriage rolled out of the stable yard And turned down the high road leading to the village of Lambshire The return drive was almost as silent as the drive from home Had been in the morning Indeed Mrs. Hilbury lent back with closed eyes in her corner And either slept or faint sleep As her habit was in the intervals between the seasons of active exertion Or continued the story which she had begun to tell herself that morning About two miles from Lambshire the road ran over the rounded summit of the Heath A lonely spot marked by an obelisk of granite Setting forth the gratitude of some great lady of the eighteenth century Who had been set upon by highwomen at this spot And delivered from death just as hope seemed lost In summer it was a pleasant place For the deep woods on either side murmured And the heather which grew thick round the granite pedestal Made the light breeze taste sweetly In the winter the sighing of the trees was deep into a hollow sound And the Heath was as gray and almost as solitary As the empty sweep of the clouds above it Here Rodney stopped the carriage and helped Catherine to alight Henry too gave her his hand And fancied that she pressed it very slightly in parting As if she sent him a message But the carriage rolled on immediately without wakening Mrs. Hilbury And left the couple standing by the obelisk That Rodney was angry with her and had made this opportunity For speaking to her Catherine knew very well She was neither glad nor sorry that the time had come Nor indeed knew what to expect and thus remained silent The carriage grew smaller and smaller upon the dusky road And still Rodney did not speak Perhaps she thought he waited until the last sign of the carriage Had disappeared beneath the curve of the road And they were left entirely alone To cloak their silence she read the writing on the obelisk To do which she had to walk completely round it She was murmuring a word or two of the pious ladies thanks Above her breath when Rodney joined her In silence they set out along the cart-track Which skirted the verge of the trees To break the silence was exactly what Rodney wished to do And yet could not do to his own satisfaction Incompinate it was far easier to approach Catherine Alone with her the aloofness and force of her character Checked all his natural methods of attack He believed that she had behaved very badly to him But each separate instance of unkindness seemed too petty To be advanced when they were alone together There's no need for us to race, he complained at last Upon which she immediately slackened her pace And walked too slowly to suit him In desperation he said the first thing he thought of Very peevishly and without the dignified prelude Which he had intended I've not enjoyed my holiday No? No, I shall be glad to get back to work again Saturday, Sunday, Monday, there are only three days more She counted No one enjoys being made a fool of before other people He blurted out for his irritation rose as she spoke And got the better of his awe of her and was inflamed by that awe That refers to me, I suppose, she said calmly Every day since we've been here You've done something to make me appear ridiculous He went on Of course, so long as it amuses you you're welcome But we have to remember that we are going to spend our lives together I asked you only this morning, for example To come out and take a turn with me in the garden I was waiting for you ten minutes and you never came Everyone saw me waiting The stable boys saw me I was so ashamed that I went in Then on the drive you hardly spoke to me Henry noticed it, everyone notices it You find no difficulty in talking to Henry, though She noted these various complaints And determined philosophically to answer none of them Although the last stung her to considerable irritation She wished to find out how deep his grievance lay None of these things seem to me to matter She said Very well then, I may as well hold my tongue He replied In themselves they don't seem to me to matter If they hurt you, of course, they matter She corrected herself scrupulously Her tone of consideration touched him And he walked on in silence for a space And we might be so happy, Catherine He exclaimed impulsively and drew her arm through his She withdrew it directly As long as you let yourself feel like this We shall never be happy, she said The harshness which Henry had noticed Was again unmistakable in her manner William flinched and was silent Such severity, accompanied by something indescribably cold And impersonal in her manner, had constantly been Meaded out to him during the last few days Always in the company of others He had recouped himself by some ridiculous display Of vanity, which, as he knew, put him still more At her mercy Now that he was alone with her There was no stimulus from outside To draw his attention from his injury By a considerable effort of self-control He forced himself to remain silent And to make himself distinguish What part of his pain was due to vanity What part to the certainty That no woman really loving him Could speak thus, what do I feel about Catherine He thought to himself It was clear that she had been a very desirable And distinguished figure The mistress of her little section of the world But more than that, she was the person Of all others who seemed to him The arbitress of life The woman whose judgment was naturally right And steady, as his had never been In spite of all his culture And then he could not see her come into a room With a sense of the flowing of robes Of the flowering of blossoms Of the purple waves of the sea Of all things that are lovely and mutable On the surface, but still impassionate In their heart If she were callous all the time And had only led me on to laugh at me I couldn't have felt that about her He thought, I'm not a fool, after all I can't have been utterly mistaken All these years, and yet When she speaks to me like that The truth of it is, he thought That I've got such despicable faults That no one could help speaking to me like that Catherine is quite right And yet those are not my serious feelings As she knows quite well How can I change myself? What would make her care for me? He was terribly tempted here to break the silence By asking Catherine in what respects He could change himself to suit her But he sought consolation instead By running over the list of his gifts And requirements His knowledge of Greek and Latin And literature His skill in the management of meters And his ancient West Country blood But the feeling that underlay all these feelings And puzzled him profoundly And kept him silent Was the certainty that he loved Catherine as sincerely As he had it in him to love anyone And yet she could speak to him like that In a sort of bewilderment He lost all desire to speak And would quite readily have taken up Some different topic of conversation If Catherine had started one This however she did not do He glanced at her In case her expression might help him To understand her behaviour As usual she had quickened her pace Unconsciously and was now walking A little in front of him But he could gain little information from her eyes Which looked steadily at the brown heather Or from the lines drawn seriously Upon her forehead Thus to lose touch with her For he had no idea what she was thinking Was so unpleasant to him He began to talk about his grievances again Without however much conviction In his voice If you have no feeling for me Wouldn't it be kinder To say so to me in private? Oh William, she burst out As if he had interrupted some Absorbing train of thought How you go on about feelings Isn't it better not to talk so much Not to be worrying always about small things That don't really matter That's the question precisely I only want you to tell me That they don't matter There are times when you seem indifferent to everything I'm vain, I have a thousand faults But you know they're not everything You know I care for you And if I say that I care for you Don't you believe me? Say it, Catherine Say it as if you meant it Make me feel that you care for me She could not force herself To speak a word The heather was growing dim around them And the horizon was blotted out by white mist To ask her for passion Or for certainty Seemed like asking that damp prospect For fierce blades of fire Or the faded sky for the intense blue vault of June He went on to tell her Of his love for her In words which bore Even to her critical senses The stamp of truth But none of this touched her Until, coming to a gate whose hinge was rusty He heaved it open with his shoulder Talking and taking no account of his effort The virility of this deed impressed her And yet normally She attached no value to the power of opening gates The strength of muscles Has nothing to do on the face of it With the strength of affections Nevertheless, she felt a sudden concern For this power running to waste on her account Which, combined with a desire To keep possession of that strangely attractive Masculine power Made her rouse herself from her torpor Why should she simply not tell him the truth Which was that she had accepted him In a misty state of mind When nothing had its right shape or size That it was deplorable But that with clearer eyesight Marriage was out of the question She did not want to marry anyone She wanted to go away by herself Preferably to some bleak northern moor And there studying mathematics And the science of astronomy Twenty words would explain The whole situation to him He had ceased to speak He had told her once more how he loved her And why She summoned her courage Fixed her eyes upon a lightning-splintered ash-tree And almost as if she were reading A writing fixed to the trunk began I was wrong to get engaged to you I shall never make you happy I have never loved you Catherine, he protested No, never She repeated obstinately Not rightly, don't you see I didn't know what I was doing You love someone else? He cut her short Absolutely no one Henry, he demanded Henry, I should have thought William, even you There is someone, he persisted There has been a change in the last few weeks You owe it to me to be honest, Catherine If I could, I would She replied Why did you tell me you would marry me then? He demanded Why, indeed A moment of pessimism A reflection of the undeniable pros of life A lapse of the illusion Which sustains youth midway between heaven and earth A desperate attempt to reconcile herself With facts She could only recall a moment As of waking from a dream Which now seemed to her a moment of surrender But who could give reasons such as these For doing what she had done She shook her head very sadly But you're not a child You're not a woman of moods Rodney persisted You couldn't have accepted me if you hadn't Loved me, he cried A sense of her own misbehavior Which she has succeeded in keeping from her By sharpening her consciousness Of Rodney's faults Now swept over her and almost overwhelmed her What were his faults In comparison with the fact that he cared for her What were her virtues In comparison with the fact that she did not Care for him In a flash the conviction That not to care is the uttermost sin Of all stamped itself upon her in most thought And she felt herself branded forever He had taken her arm And held her hand firmly in his Nor had she the force to resist What now seemed to her his enormously superior Strength Very well she would submit As her mother and her aunt And most women perhaps had submitted And yet she knew That every second of such submission To his strength was a second Of treachery to him I did say I would marry you But it was wrong, she forced herself to say And she stiffened her arm as if to annul Even the seeming submission Of that separate part of her For I don't love you, William You've noticed it, everyone's noticed it Why should we go on pretending When I told you I loved you I was wrong I said what I knew to be untrue As none of her words seemed to her At all adequate to represent what she felt She repeated them And emphasized them without Realizing the effect that they might have Upon a man who cared for her She was completely taken aback By finding her arm suddenly dropped Then she saw his face Most strangely contorted Was he laughing flashed across her In another moment she saw that he was in tears In her bewilderment at this apparition She stood aghast for a second With a desperate sense that this horror Must at all costs be stopped She then put her arms about him Drew his head for a moment upon her Shoulder and led him on murmuring Words of consolation until he heaved A great sigh They held fast to each other Her tears too ran down her cheeks And were both quite silent Noticing the difficulty with which He walked and feeling the same extreme Lastitude in her own limbs She proposed that they should rest For a moment where the bracken was brown And shriveled beneath an oak tree He assented Once more he gave a great sigh And wiped his eyes with a childlike unconsciousness And began to speak without a trace Of his previous anger The idea came to her that they were like The children in the fairytale who were lost In a wood and with this in her mind She noticed the scattering of dead leaves All around them which had been blown By the wind into heaps A foot or two deep here and there When did you begin to feel this Catherine He said for it isn't true To say that you've always felt it I admit I was unreasonable The first night when you found that your clothes Had been left behind Still where's the fault in that I could promise you never to interfere With your clothes again I admit I was cross when I found you upstairs With Henry perhaps I showed it too openly But that's not unreasonable either When one's engaged Ask your mother and now this terrible thing He broke off unable for the moment To proceed any further This decision you say you've come to Have you discussed it with anyone Your mother, for example, or Henry? No, no, of course not She said, stirring the leaves with her hand But you don't understand me, William Help me to understand you You don't understand, I mean My real feelings, how could you I've only now faced them myself But I haven't got the sort of feeling Love, I mean I don't know what to call it She looked vaguely towards the horizon Sunk under the mist But anyhow, without it How of course, he asked But this kind of analysis is disastrous He exclaimed I should have done it before She said gloomily You make yourself think things you don't think He continued, becoming demonstrative With his hands as his manner was Believe me, Catherine Before we came here we were perfectly happy You were full of plans for our house The chair covers, don't you remember Like any other woman who is about to be married Now for no reason whatever You begin to fret about your feeling And about my feeling With the usual result I assure you, Catherine, I've been through it all myself At one time I was always Asking myself absurd questions Which came to nothing either What you want, if I may say so Is some occupation to take you out of yourself When this morbid mood comes on If it hadn't been for my poetry I assure you I should often have been very much In the same state myself To let you into a secret He continued with his little chuckle Which now sounded almost assured I have often gone home from seeing you In such a state of nerves That I had to force myself to write a page or two Before I could get you out of my head Ask Denim, he'll tell you how he met me one night He'll tell you what a state he found me in Catherine started with displeasure At the mention of Ralph's name The thought of the conversation In which her conduct had been made A subject for discussion with Denim Roused her anger, but as she Instantly felt she had scarcely the right To grudge William any use of her name Seeing what her fault against him Had been from verse to last And yet Denim She had a view of him as a judge She figured him sternly weighing Instances of her levity in this Masculine court of inquiry into Feminine morality and gruffly Dismissing both her and her family With some half sarcastic, half Tolerant phrase which sealed her doom As far as he was concerned, forever Having met him so lately The sense of his character was strong in her The thought was not a pleasant one For a proud woman, but she had yet to learn The art of subduing her expression Her eyes fixed upon the ground Her brows drawn together Gave William a very fair picture Of the resentment that she was forcing herself To control A certain degree of apprehension Occasionally culminating in a kind of fear Had always entered into his love for her And had increased, rather to his surprise In the greater intimacy of their engagement Beneath her steady, exemplary surface Ran a vein of passion Which seemed to him now perverse Now completely irrational For it never took the normal channel Of glorification of him and his doings And indeed he almost preferred The steady good sense which had always Marked their relationship to a more Romantic bond But passion she had, he could not deny it And hitherto he had tried to see it Employed in his thoughts Upon the lives of the children Who were to be born to them She will make a perfect mother A mother of sons, he thought But seeing her sitting there, gloomy and silent He began to have his doubts on this point A farce, a farce He thought to himself She said that our marriage would be a farce And he became suddenly aware Of their situation Sitting upon the ground among the dead leaves Not fifty yards from the main road So that it was quite possible for someone passing To see and recognize them He brushed off his face any trace That might remain of the unseemly Exhibition of emotion But he was more troubled by Catherine's appearance As she sat wrapped and thought upon The ground than by his own There was something improper to him In her self-forgetfulness A man naturally alive to the conventions Of society, he was strictly conventional Where women were concerned And especially if the woman happened to be Connected with him He noticed with distress the long strand Of dark hair touching her shoulder And two or three dead beach leaves attached To her dress. But to recall her mind In their present circumstances To a sense of these details was impossible She sat there Seeming unconscious of everything He suspected that in her silence She was reproaching herself But he wished that she would think of her hair And of the dead beach leaves which were of More immediate importance to him Than anything else. Indeed These trifles drew his attention strangely From his own doubtful and uneasy state Of mind. For relief Mixing itself with pain Stirred up a most curious hurry And tumult in his breast Almost concealing his first sharp sense Of bleak and overwhelming disappointment In order to Relieve this restlessness And close a distressingly ill-ordered Scene, he rose abruptly And helped Catherine to her feet She smiled a little at the minute care With which he tidied her And yet, when he brushed the dead leaves From his own coat, she flinched Seeing in that action the gesture Of a lonely man. William, she said, I will marry you I will try to make you happy End of chapter 18