 A PAIR OF BLUE EYES by Thomas Hardy A Violet in the Youth of Primi Nature Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting The perfume and suppliance of a minute. No more. The following chapters were written at a time when the craze for indiscriminate church restoration had just reached the remotest nooks of western England, where the wild and tragic features of the coast had long combined in perfect harmony with the crude gothic art of the ecclesiastical building scattered along it, throwing into extraordinary discord all architectural attempts at newness there. To restore the great carcasses of a medievalism whose spirit had fled seemed, and not less, in Congo's act, than to set about renovating the adjoining crags themselves. Hence it happened that an imaginary history of three human hearts, whose emotions were not without correspondence with these material circumstances, found in the ordinary incidents of such church renovations a fitting frame for its presentation. The shore and country about Castle Bottle is now getting well known and will be readily recognized. The spot is, I may add, the furthest westward of all those convenient corners wherein I have ventured to erect my theatre for these imperfect little dramas of country life and passions, and it lies near to, or no great way beyond, the vague border of the Wessex Kingdom on that side which, like the westering verge of modern American settlements, was progressive and uncertain. This, however, is of little importance. The place is preeminently, for one person at least, the region of dream and mystery, the ghostly birds, the paw-like sea, the frothy wind, the eternal sliliquy of the waters, the bloom of dark purple cast that seems to exhale from the shoreward precipices, in themselves lend to the scene an atmosphere like the twilight of a night vision. One enormous seaboard cliff in particular figures in the narrative, and for some forgotten reason earlier, this cliff was described in the story as being without a name. Accuracy would require the statement to be that a remarkable cliff which resembles, in many points, the cliff of the description, bears a name that no event has made famous. TH March 1899 The Persons Elfride Swancourt, a young lady. Christopher Swancourt, a clergyman. Stephen Smith, an architect. Henry Knight, a reviewer and essayist. Charlotte Troyton, a rich widow. Gertrude Jethway, a poor widow. Spencer Hugo Luxellian, a pair. Lady Luxellian, his wife. Mary and Kate, two little girls. William Worm, a dazed factodum. John Smith, a master mason. Jane Smith, his wife. Martin Canister, a sexton. Unity, a maid servant. Other servants, masons, labourers, grooms, nondescripts, et cetera, et cetera. The scene, mostly on the outskirts of Lower Wessex. End of Preface A Pair of Blue Eyes, Chapter 1 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Tyge Hines A Pair of Blue Eyes by Thomas Hardy, Chapter 1 A Fair Vestal Throne in the West Alfreda Swancourt was a girl whose emotions lay very near the surface. Their nature more precisely, and as modified by the creeping hours of time, was known only to those who watched the circumstances of her history. Personally she was a combination of very interesting particulars, whose rarity, however, lay in the combination itself, rather than in the individual elements combined. As a matter of fact, he did not see the form and substance of her features when conversing with her, and this charming power of preventing a material study of her alignment by an interlocutor, originated not in the cloaking effect of a well-formed manner, for her manner was childish and scarcely formed, but in the attractive crudeness of the remarks themselves. She had lived all her life in retirement, and a monstrami digito of idle men had not flattered her, and at the age of nineteen or twenty she was no further on in social consciousness than an urban young lady of fifteen. One point in her, however, you did notice, that was her eyes. In them was seen a sublimation of all of her. It was not necessary to look further, there she lived. These eyes were blue, blue as autumn distance, blue as the blue we see between the retreating mouldings of hills and woody slopes on a sunny September morning, a misty and shady blue that had no beginning or surface, and was looked into rather than at. As to her presence, it was not powerful, it was weak. Some women can make their personality pervade the atmosphere of a whole banqueting hall. Alfreda's was no more pervasive than that of a kitten. Alfreda had as her own the thoughtfulness which appears in the face of the Madonna della sedia without a rapture, the warmth and spirit of the type of woman's feature most common to the beauties, mortal and immortal, of Rubens, without their insistent fleshiness. The characteristic expressions of the female faces of Corregio, that of the yearning human thoughts that lie too deep for tears, was hers sometimes, but seldom under ordinary conditions. The point in Alfreda Swancourt's life at which a deeper current may be said to have permanently set in, was one winter afternoon, when she found herself standing in the character of Hostess, face to face with the man she had never seen before. Moreover, looking at him with a Miranda-like curiosity and interest that she had never yet bestowed on a mortal. On this particular day, her father, the vicar of a parish on the seaswept outskirts of Lower Wessex, and a widower, was suffering from an attack of gout. After finishing her household supervisions, Alfreda became restless, and several times left the room, ascended the staircase, and knocked at her father's chamber door. Come in! was always answered in a hearty, out-of-door voice from the inside. Papa! she said on one occasion to the fine, red-faced handsome man of forty, who, puffing and fizzing like a bursting bottle, lay on a bed, wrapped in a dressing-gown, and every now and then, enunciating, in spite of himself, about one letter of some word or words that were almost old. Papa! will you not come downstairs this evening? She spoke distinctly. He was rather deaf. Afraid not. Eh, very much afraid I shall not, Alfreda. I can't bear even a handkerchief upon this juiced toe of mine, much less a stocking or slipper. There it is again. No, I shan't get up till to-morrow. Then I hope this London man won't come, for I don't know what I should do, Papa. Well, it would be awkward, certainly. I should hardly think he would come to-day. Why? Eh, because the wind blows so. Wind, what ideas you have, Alfreda? Who ever heard of wind, stopping a man from doing his business? The idea of this toe of mine coming on so suddenly? If he should come, you must send him up to me, I suppose, and then give him some food and put him to bed in some way. Dear me, what a nuisance all this is! Must he have dinner? Too heavy for a tired man at the end of a tedious journey. A tea, then? Not substantially enough. High tea, then? There's cold fowl, rabbit pie, some pasties, and things of that kind. Yes, high tea. Must I pour out his tea, Papa? Of course. You are the mistress of the house. What? Sit there all the time with a stranger, just as if I knew him, and not anybody to introduce us? Nonsense, child, about introducing. You know better than that. A practical professional man, tired and hungry, who has been travelling ever since daylight this morning will hardly be inclined to talk on air courtesies tonight. He wants food and shelter, and you must see that he has it, simply because I am suddenly laid up and cannot. There's nothing so dreadful in that, I hope. You get all kinds of stuff into your head from reading so many of those novels. Oh, no, there is nothing dreadful in it when it becomes plainly a case of necessity like this. But, you see, you were always there when people come to dinner, even if we know them, and this is some strange London man of the world who will think it odd, perhaps. Very well, let him. Is he Mr. Hubie's partner? I should scarcely think so. He may be. How old is he, I wonder? That I cannot tell. You will find a copy of my letter to Mr. Hubie and his answer upon the table in the study. You may read them, and then you'll know as much as I do about our visitor. I have read them. Well, what's the use of asking questions, then? They contain all I know. Oh, what pliggie young scamp! Don't put anything there. I can't bear the weight of a fly. Oh, I am sorry, papa. I forgot. I thought you might be cold," she said, hastily removing the rug she had thrown upon the feet of the sufferer, and waiting till she saw that consciousness of her offence had passed from his face, she withdrew from the room and retired again downstairs. End of chapter 1 A pair of blue eyes, chapter 2 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Tye Hines A pair of blue eyes by Thomas Hardy, chapter 2 It was on the evening of a winter's day. When two or three additional hours had merged the same afternoon and evening, some moving outlines might have been observed against the sky on the summit of a wild, lone hill in that district. They circumscribed two men, having at present the aspect of silhouettes, sitting in a dog-cart and pushing along in the teeth of the wind. Scarcely a solitary house or man had been visible along the whole dreary distance of open country they were traversing, and now that night had begun to fall the faint twilight, which still gave an idea of the landscape to their observation, was enlivened by the quiet appearance of the planet Jupiter, momentarily gleaming in intense brilliancy in front of them, and by Sirius shedding its rays in rivalry from his position over their shoulders. The only lights apparent on earth were some spots of dull red glowing here and there upon the distant hills, which, as the driver of the vehicle gratuitously remarked to the higher, were smouldering fires for the consumption of peat and gorse roots, where the common was being broken up for agricultural purposes. The wind prevailed with but little abatement from its daytime boisterousness, three or four small clouds, delicate and pale, creeping along under the sky, southward to the channel. Fourteen of the sixteen miles intervening between the railway terminus and the end of the journey had been gone over when they began to pass along the brink of a valley, some miles in extent, wherein the wintry skeletons of a more luxuriant vegetation than had hitherto surrounded them, proclaimed an increased richness of soil, which showed signs of far more careful enclosure and management than had any slopes they had yet passed. A little farther, and an opening in the elm stretching up from this fertile valley, revealed a mansion. That's Endelstow House. Lord Luxelian's, said the driver. Endelstow House. Lord Luxelian's, repeated the other mechanically. He then turned himself sideways and keenly scrutinised the almost invisible house, with an interest which the indistinct picture itself seemed far from adequate to create. Yes, that's Lord Luxelian's. He said yet again after a while, as he still looked in the same direction. What? Be we going there? No, Endelstow Vicarage, as I have told you. Wait, how you might have altered your mind, sir, as you stared that way yet nothing so long. Oh, no, I am interested in the house, that's all. Most people be, as the saying is. Not in the sense that I am. Oh, well, his family is no better than my own, I believe. How is that? Hedgers and ditchers by rights. But once in ancient times, one of them, when he was at work, changed clothes with King Charles II, and saved the king's life. King Charles came up to him like a common man and said offhand, Man in the smock frock, my name is Charles II, and that's the truth on it. Will you lend me your clothes? I don't mind if I do, said Hedger Luxelian, and they changed there and then. Now, mind ye, King Charles II said like a common man as he rolled away, If ever I come to the crown, you come to court, knock at the door, and say out bold, Is King Charles II at home? Tell him your name, and they shall let you in, and you shall be made a lord. Now, that was very nice of Master Charlie. Very nice indeed. Well, as the story is, the king came to the throne, and some years after that away went Hedger Luxelian. He knocked at the king's door, and asked if King Charles II was in. No, he isn't, they said. Then is Charles III, said Hedger Luxelian. Yes, said a young fellow standing boy like a common man, only he had a crown on. My name is Charles III, and I really fancy that must be a mistake. I don't recollect anything in English history about Charles III, said the other in a tone of mild remonstrance. Oh, that's right history enough, only it wasn't printed. He was rather a queer tempered man, if you remember. Very well, go on. And by hook or by crook Hedger Luxelian was made a lord, and everything went on well till some time after, when he got into a most terrible row with King Charles IV. I can't stand Charles IV upon my word, that's too much. Why, it was at Charles IV, wasn't there? Certainly. Well, Charles is be as common as George's. However, I'll say no more about it. Ah, well, it is the funniest world I ever lived in upon my life it is. Ah, that's such a be. The dusk had thickened into darkness while the dusk conversed, and the outlying surface of the mansion gradually disappeared. The windows, which had before been as black blots on a lighter expanse of wall, became illuminated, and were transfigured into squares of light on the general dark body of the night landscape as it absorbed the outlines of the edifice into its gloomy monochrome. Not another word was spoken for some time, and they climbed a hill, then another hill piled on the summit of the first. An additional mile of plateau followed, from which could be discerned two lighthouses on the coast they were nearing, reposing on the horizon with a calm luster of benignity. Another oasis was reached. A little dell lay like a nest at their feet, towards which the driver pulled the horse at a sharp angle, and descended a steep slope which dived under the trees, like a rabbit's burrow. They sank lower and lower. Endelstow vicarage is inside here. Continue the man with the reins. This part about here is West Endelstow. South of East Endelstow, and has a church to itself. Pass and swan court is the passing for boat, and bobs backward and forward. Ah, well, it is a funny world. I believe there was once a quarry here, where this house stands. The man who built it in pastime scraped all the gleam for air to put round the vicarage, and laid out a little paradise of flowers and trees and the soil he had got together in this way, whilst the fields he scraped had been good for nothing ever since. How long has the present incumbent been here? Maybe about a year, or year and a half. Tis in two years, for they don't scandalize him yet. And as a rule, the parish begins to scandalize the person at the end of two years, among them familiar. Boat is a very nice party. Ah, pass and swan court knows me pretty well from off and driving over, and I know pass and swan court. They emerged from the bower, swept round in a curve, and the chimneys and gables of the vicarage became darkly visible. Not a light showed anywhere. They alighted. The man felt his way to the porch and rang the bell. At the end of three or four minutes, spent in patient waiting without hearing any sounds of a response, the stranger advanced and repeated a call in a more decided manner. He then fancied he heard footsteps in the hall and sundry movements of the doorknob, but nobody appeared. Perhaps they'd been to home, sighed the driver, and I promised myself a bit of supper and pass in swan court's kitchen. Such lovely mate poised and fig-cakes and cider and drops a cardial that they do keep here. All right, neighbours, be a rich man or be a poor man that your most needs come to the world's end at this time of night. Exclaimed a voice at this instant. And, turning their heads, they saw a rickety individual shambling round from the back door, with a horn lantern dangling from his hand. Time a night, I believe, and the clock only gone seven of them. Show a light and let us in, William Worm. Oh, that you, Robert Lake Pan. Nobody else, William Worm. And is the visiting man a come? Yes, said the stranger. Is Mr Swan Court at home? That is, sir. And would you mind coming round by the back way? The front door's got stuck with the wet. As you will do sometimes, and the torque can't open it. I know I'm only a poor, wambler man, and I'll never pay the Lord for my makin', sir. Well, I can show you the way in, sir. The new arrivals followed his guide through a little door in the wall, and they promenaded a scullery and a kitchen, along which he passed with eyes rigidly fixed in advance, an inbred horror of prying, forbidding him to gaze around apartments that formed the backside of the household tapestry. Entering the hall, he was about to be shown to his room, when from the inner lobby of the front entrance, whether she had gone to learn the cause of the delay, sailed forth to the form of Elfride. Her start of amazement at the sight of the visitor coming forth from under the stairs proved that she had not been expecting this surprising flank movement, which had been originated entirely by the ingenuity of William Worm. She appeared in the prettiest of all feminine guises, that is to say, in demi-toilette, with plenty of loose, curly hair, tumbling down about her shoulders. An expression of uneasiness pervaded her countenance, and altogether she scarcely appeared woman enough for the situation. The visitor removed his hat, and the first words were spoken. Elfride prelusively looking with a great deal of interest, not unmixed with surprise, at the person towards whom she was to do the duties of hospitality. I am Mr. Smith," said a stranger in a musical voice. I am Miss Swancourt," said Elfride. Her constraint was over. The great contrast between the reality she beheld before her, and the dark, taciturn, sharp elderly man of business who had lurked in her imagination, a man with clothes smelling of city smoke, skin sallow from want of sun, and talk flavoured with epigram, was such a relief to her, that Elfride smiled, almost laughed in the newcomer's face. Stephen Smith, who has hitherto been hidden from us by the darkness, was at this time of his life, but a youth in appearance, and barely a man in years. Judging by his luck, London was the last place in the world that one would have imagined to be the scene of his activities. Such a face surely could not be nourished amid smoke, and mud, and fog, and dust. Such an open countenance could never even have seen anything of the weariness, the favour, and the fret of Babylon II. His complexion was as fine as Elfride's own, the pink of his cheeks as delicate, his mouth as perfect as Cupid's bow and form, and his cherry red in colour as hers, bright curly hair, bright sparkling blue grey eyes, a boy's blush and manner, neither whisker nor mustache, unless a little light brown fur on his upper lip deserves a latter title. This composed the London professional man, the prospect of whose event had so troubled Elfride. Elfride hastened to say she was sorry to tell him that Mrs Swancourt was not able to receive him that evening, and gave the reason why. Mr Smith replied, in a voice boyish by nature and manly by art, very sorry to hear this news, but that as far as his reception was concerned it did not matter in the least. Stephen was shown up to his room, and in his absence Elfride stealthily glided into her father's. He's come, papa, such a young man for a business man. No, indeed. His face is, well, pretty, just like mine. What next? Nothing, that's all I know of him yet. It is rather nice, is it not? Well, we shall see when we know him better. Go down and give the poor fellow something to eat and drink for heaven's sake, and when he is done eating, say I should like to have a few words with him if he doesn't mind coming up here. The young lady glided downstairs again, and while she awaits young Smith's entry, the letters referring to his visit had better be given. One. Mr Swancourt to Mr Hubey. And also Vicarage, February 18th. 18. Something. Sir, we are thinking of restoring the tower and aisle of the church in this parish, and Lord Excellion, the patron of the living, has mentioned your name as that of a trustworthy architect, whom it would be desirable to ask to superintend the work. I am exceeding the ignorant of the necessary preliminary steps. Probably, however, the first is that should you be, as Lord Excellion says you are, disposed to assist us, yourself or some member of your staff come and see the building, and report thereupon for the satisfaction of parishioners and others. This spot is a very remote one, we have no railway within fourteen miles, and the nearest place for putting up at, called a town though merely a large village, is Castle Boterel, two miles further on, so that it will be most convenient for you to stay at the Vicarage, which I am glad to place at your disposal, instead of pushing on to the hotel at Castle Boterel and coming back again in the morning. Any day of the next week that you like to name for your visit will find us quite ready to receive you, yours very truly Christopher Swancourt. Two. Mr. Hubey to Mr. Swancourt. Percy Place, Charring Cross, February 20th, 18 something. Dear sir, agreeably to your request of the 18th instant, I have arranged to survey and make drawings of the Isle and Tower of your parish church, and of the dilapidations which have been suffered to accrue there too, with a view to its restoration. My assistant, Mr. Steven Smith, will leave London by the early train tomorrow morning for the purpose. Many thanks for your proposal to accommodate him. He will take advantage of your offer and will probably reach your house at some hour of the evening. You may put every confidence in him and may rely upon his discernment in the matter of church architecture. Trusting that the plans for the restoration, which I shall prepare from the details of his survey, will prove satisfactory to yourself and Lord Excellion. I am, dear sir, yours faithfully, Walter Hubey. End of chapter 2 Chapter 3 of A Pair of Blue Eyes This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ty Kynes A Pair of Blue Eyes by Thomas Hardy Chapter 3 Melodious Birds Sing Madrigals That first repasse in Enstow Vicarage was a very agreeable one to young Steven Smith. The table was spread, as Elfride has suggested to her father, with the materials for the heterogeneous meal called High Tea, a class of reflection welcomed to all when away from men and towns, and particularly attractive to youthful palates. The table was prettily decked with winter flowers and leaves, amid which the eye was greeted by chops, chickens, pie, etc., and two huge pasties overhanging the sides of the dish with a cheerful aspect of abundance. At the end, towards the fireplace, appeared a tea-service of old-fashioned Worcester porcelain, and behind this arose the slight form of Elfride, attempting to add matronly dignity to the movement of pouring out tea and to have a weighty and concerned look in matters of marmalade, honey, and clotted cream. Having made her own meal before he arrived, she found to her embarrassment that there was nothing left for her to do but talk when not assisting him. She asked him if he would excuse her finishing a letter that she had been writing at a side table, and after sitting down to do it, tingled with the sense of being grossly rude. However, seeing that he noticed nothing personally wrong in her, who was embarrassed when she attentively watched his cup to refill it, Elfride became better at ease, and when furthermore he accidentally kicked the leg of the table and then nearly upset his teacup just as school boys did, she felt herself mistress of the situation and could talk very well. In a few minutes, in genuineness, and the common term of years obliterated all recollection that there were strangers just met. Stephen began to wax eloquent on extremely slight experiences connected with his professional pursuits, and she, having no experiences to fall back on, recounted with much animation stories that had been related to her by her father, which would have astonished him had he heard with what fidelity of action and tone they were rendered. Upon the whole, a very interesting picture of Sweet and Twenty was on view that evening in Mr Swancourt's house. Ultimately, Stephen had to go upstairs and talk loud to the vicar, receiving from him between his puffs a great many apologies for calling him so unceremoniously to a stranger's bedroom. But, continued Mr Swancourt, I felt that I wanted to say a few words to you before the morning on the business of your visit. One's patience gets exhausted by staying a prisoner in bed all day through a sudden freak of one's enemy. New to me, though, for I have known very little of gout as yet. However, he's gone to my other toe in a very mild manner, and I expect he'll slink off altogether by the morning. I hope you've been well attended to downstairs. Perfectly, and though it is unfortunate that I am sorry to see you laid up, I beg you will not take the slightest notice of my being in the house the while. I will not, but I shall be down tomorrow. My daughter's an excellent doctor. A dose or two of her mild mixtures will fetch me round quicker than all the drug stuff in the world. Well, now about the church business. Take a seat, do. We can't afford to stand upon ceremony in these parts, as you see, and for this reason, that a civilised human being seldom stays long with us, and so we cannot waste time in approaching him, or he be gone before we have had the pleasure of close acquaintance. This tower of our days, as you will notice, entirely gone beyond the possibility of restoration. But the church itself is well enough. You should see some of the churches in this county. Floors and blotting, ivy lining the walls. Dear me. Oh, that's nothing. The congregation of a neighbour of mine, whenever a storm of rain comes on during service, open their umbrellas and hold them up till the dripping ceases from the roof. Now, if you will kindly bring me those papers and letters you see lying on the table, I will show you how far we have got. Stephen crossed the room to fetch them, and the vicar seemed to notice, more particularly, the slim figure of his visitor. I suppose you are quite competent, he said, and quite, said the young man, colouring slightly. You are very young, I fancy. I should say you're not more than nineteen. I am nearly twenty-one. Exactly half my age. I am forty-two. By the way, said Mr Swancourt after some conversation, you said your whole name was Stephen Fitzmorris, and that your grandfather came originally from Caxbury. Since I have been speaking, it has occurred to me that I know something of you. You belong to a well-known ancient county family, not ordinary smiths in the least. I don't think we have any of their blood in our veins. Nonsense, you must. Henry the Landed Gentry. Now, let me see. There, Stephen Fitzmorris Smith. He lies in St Mary's Church, doesn't he? Well, out of that family sprang the least worthy smiths, and, collaterally, came General Sir Stephen Fitzmorris Smith of Caxbury. Yes, I've seen his monument there, shouted Stephen, but there is no connection between his family and mine. There cannot be. There is none possibly to your knowledge. But look at this, my dear sir, said the vicar, striking his fist upon the bedpost for emphasis. Here are you, Stephen Fitzmorris Smith, living in London, but springing from Caxbury. Here in this book is a genealogical tree of the Stephen Fitzmorris Smiths of Caxbury Manor. You may be only a family of professional men now, and I am not inquisitive. I don't ask questions of that kind. It is not in me to do so, but it is as plain as the nose in your face that there is your origin. And, Mr Smith, I congratulate you upon your blood. Blue blood, sir, and upon my life a very desirable colour as the world goes. I wish you could congratulate me on some more tangible quality, said the younger man. Sadly, no less than modestly. Nonsense. That will come in time. You are young, all your life is before you. Now, look, see how far back in the midst of antiquity my own family has won Court of Arute. Here, you see. He continued turning to the page. It's Jeffrey, the one among my ancestors who lost a barony because he would cut his joke. Ah, the sort of us. But the story is too long to tell now. I am a poor man. A poor gentleman, in fact. Those I would be friends with won't be friends with me. Those who are willing to be friends with me, I am above being friends with. Beyond dining with a neighbouring incumbent or two, and an occasional chat, sometimes dinner, with Lord Luxellian, a connection of mine, I am in absolute solitude. Absolute. You have your studies, and your books, and your daughter. Oh, yes, yes. And I don't complain of poverty. Tanto cor am latrone. Well, Mr. Smith, don't let me detain you any longer in this sick room. That reminds me of a story I once heard in my younger days. Here, the vicar began a series of small private laughs, and Stephen looked inquiry. Oh, no, no. It's too bad. Too bad to tell. Continued, Mr. Swan Court, in undertones of grim mirth. Well, downstairs, my daughter must do the best she can for you this evening. Ask her to sing to you. She plays and sings very nicely. Good night. I feel as if I have known you for five or six years. I'll ring for somebody to show you down. Oh, never mind, said Stephen. I can find the way. And he went downstairs, thinking of the delightful freedom of manner in the remote counties in comparison with the reserve of London. I forgot to tell you that my father death, said Elfride anxiously when Stephen entered the little drawing-room. Never mind, I know all about it. And we're great friends. The man of business replied enthusiastically. And Miss Swan Court, will you kindly sing to me? To Miss Swan Court, this request seemed what in fact it was, exceptionally point-blank. Though she guessed that her father had some hand in framing it, knowing rather to her cost of his unceremonious way of utilising her for the benefit of dull sojourners. At the same time, as Mr. Smith's manner was too frank to provoke criticism, and as age too little to inspire fear, she was ready not to say pleased to accede. Selecting from the canterbury some old family ditties that in years gone by had been played and sung by her mother, Elfride sat down to the piano forte and began Poison the evening of a winter's day in a pretty contralto voice. Do you like that old thing, Mr. Smith, she said at the end? Yes, I do much, said Stephen, words which you would have uttered and sincerely to anything on earth from glee to requiem that she might have chosen. You shall have a little one by de l'air that was given me by a young French lady who was staying at Enderlstow House. Chez les plantées, Chez les vues natures C'est beau rosé, ou les voisins, etc. And then I shall want to give you my own favourite for very last Chez les, when the lamp is shattered I set to music by my poor mother. I so much like singing to anybody who really cares to hear me. Every woman who makes a permanent impression on a man is usually recalled who was mine's eye as she appeared in one particular scene which seems ordained to be her special form of manifestation throughout the pages of his memory as the patron saint has her attitude and accessories in medieval illumination. So the sweetheart may be said to have hers upon the table of her true love's fancy without which she is rarely introduced to her except by effort and this, though she may on further acquaintance have been observed in many other phases which one would imagine to be far more appropriate to love's young dream. Miss Elfride's image chose the form in which she was beheld during these minutes of singing for her permanent attitude of visitation to Stephen's eyes during his sleeping and waking hours in days after. The profile is seen of a young woman in a pale grey silk dress with trimmings of swans down and opening up from a point in front like a waistcoat without a shirt the cool colour contrasting admirably with the warm bloom of her neck and face. The further most candle on the piano comes immediately in a line with her head and her visible itself forms the accidentally frizzled hair into a nebulous haze of light surrounding her crown like an oriola. Her hands are in their place on the keys, her lips parted and trilling forth in a tender diminuendo the closing words of the sad apostrophe O love who be whalest the frailty of all things here why choose you the frailest for your cradle your home and your beer Her head is forward a little and her eyes directed keenly upward to the top of the page of music confronting her Then comes a rapid look into Stephen's face and a still more rapid look back again to her business her face having dropped its sadness and acquired a certain expression of mischievous archeness the while which lingered there for some time but was never developed into a positive smile of flirtation Stephen suddenly shifted his position from her right hand to her left where there was just enough room for a small ottoman to stand between the piano and the corner of the room into this nook he squeezed himself and gazed wistfully up into Elfride's face so long and so earnestly gazed he that her cheek deepened to a more and more crimson tint as each line was added to her song concluding and pausing motion started a last word for a minute or two she ventured to look at him again his features were an expression of unutterable heaviness you don't hear many songs do you Mr. Smith to take so much notice of these of mine perhaps it was the means of the vehicle of the song that I was noticing I mean yourself he answered gently now Mr. Smith it's perfectly true I don't hear much singing you mistake what I am I fancy because I come as a stranger but you think I must needs come from a life of bustle and know the latest movements of the day but I don't my life is as quiet as yours and more solitary solitary as death the death which comes from a plethora of life but seriously I can quite see that you are not in the least what I thought you would be before I saw you you are not critical or experienced or much to mind that's why I don't mind singing airs to you that I only half know finding that by this confession she had vexed him in a way she did not intend she added naively I mean Mr. Smith that you are better not worse for being only young and not very experienced you don't think my life here so very tame and dull I know I do not indeed he said but further it must be delightfully poetical and sparkling and fresh and there you go Mr. Smith well men of another kind when I get him to be honest enough to own the truth think just the reverse that my life must be a dreadful bore in its normal state though pleasant for the exceptional few days they pass here I could live here always he said and with such a tone and look of unconscious revelation that Alfredo was startled to find that her harmonies had fired a small Troy in the shape of Stephen's heart she said quickly but you can't live here always oh no and he drew himself in with the sensitiveness of a snail Alfredo's emotions were sudden as his in kindling but the least of women's lesser infirmities love of admiration cause an inflammable disposition on his part so exactly similar to her own as to appear as meritorious in him as modesty made her own seem culpable in her end of chapter 3 chapter 4 of a pair of blue eyes this is a Librivox recording all Librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information on the volunteer please visit Librivox.org recording by Tyge Hines a pair of blue eyes by Thomas Hardy chapter 4 where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap for reasons of his own Stephen Smith was stirring a short time after dawn the next morning in the middle of his room he could see first two bold escarpments sloping down together like the letter V towards the bottom like liquid in a funnel appeared to see small and grey on the brow of one hill of rather greater altitude than his neighbour stood the church which was to be the scene of his operations the lonely edifice was black and bare cutting up into the sky from the very tip of the hill it had a square mouldering tower owning neither battlement nor pinnacle and seemed a monolithic termination of one substance with a ridge rather than a structure raised thereon round the church ran a low wall overtopping the wall in general level was a graveyard not as a graveyard usually is a fragment of landscape but it's due variety of sciaro, oscuro but a mere profile against the sky serrated with the outlines of graves and a very few memorial stones not a tree could exist up there nothing but a monotonous grey green grass five minutes after this casual survey was made his bedroom was empty and his occupant had vanished quietly from the house at the end of two hours he was again in the room looking warm and glowing he now pursued the artistic details of dressing which on his first rising had been entirely omitted he was a very blooming boy he looked after that mysterious morning scamper his mouth was a triumph of its glass it was the cleanly cut, peak quantity pursed up mouth of William Pitt as represented in the well or a little known bust by nollicants a mouth which is in itself a young man's fortune is properly exercised his round chin where its upper part turned inward still continued its perfect and full curve seeming to press to a point the bottom of his netherlit at her place of junction once he murmured the name of Elfride ah there she was on the lawn in a plain dress without hat or bonnet running with a boy's velocity super-added to a girl's lightness after a tame rabbit she was endeavouring to capture her strategic intonations of coaxing words alternating with desperate rushes so much out of keeping with them that the hollowness of such expressions was but too evident to her pet who darted and dodged in carefully timed counterpart the scene down there was altogether different from that of the hills a ticket of shrubs and trees enclosed a favourite spot from the wilderness without even at this time of year the grass was luxuriant there no wind blew inside the predicting belt of ever-brains wasting its force upon the higher and stronger trees forming the outer margin of the grove he heard a heavy person shuffling about in stippers and calling Mr. Smith Smith proceeded to the study and found Mr. Swancourt the young man expressed his gladness to see his host downstairs oh yes, I knew I should be alright again I have not made the acquaintance of Gout for more than two years and it generally goes off the second night well, where have you been this morning I saw you come in just now I think yes, I have been for a walk you started early yes very early I think yes, it was rather early which way did you go? to the sea I suppose, everybody goes seaward no, I followed up the river as far as the park wall you are different from your kind well, I suppose that your wild place is a novelty and so tempted you out of bed not altogether a novelty I like it the ute seemed averse to explanation you must, you must to go cock watching the morning after the journey of 14 or 16 hours but there is no accounting for tastes and I am glad to see that yours are no meaner after breakfast but not before I should be good for a good 10 miles walk master Smith certainly there seemed nothing exaggerated in that assertion Mr. Swancourt by daylight showed himself to be a man who, in common with the other people under his roof, had really strong claims to be considered handsome handsome that is in the sense in which the moon is bright the ravines and valleys which on close inspection are seen to diversify its surface being left out of the argument his face was of a tint that never deepened upon his cheeks or lightened upon his forehead but remained uniform throughout the usual neutral salmon colour of a man who feeds well not to say too well but does not think hard every poor being in visible working order his tout ensemble was out of a highly improved class of farmer dressed up in the wrong clothes that of a firm standing perpendicular man whose fall would have been backwards in direction if he had ever lost his balance the vicar's background was at present what a vicar's background should be his study here the consistency ends all along the chimney piece there arranged bottles of horse pig and cow medicines and against the wall was a high table made up from the fragments of an old oak glitch gate along this stood stuffed specimens of owls, divers and gulls and over them bunches of wheat and barley ears labelled with the date and of the years that produced them some cases and shells were more or less laden with books the prominent titles of which were Dr. Brown's Notes on the Romans Dr. Smith's Notes on the Corinthians and Dr. Robinson's Notes on the Galatians Ephesians and Philippians just saved the character of the place in spite of a girl's doll's house standing above them a marine aquarium in the window and Elfride's hat hanging on its corner business, business said Mr. Swancourt after breakfast he began to find it necessary to act the part of a flywheel towards the somewhat irregular forces of his visitor they prepared to go to the church the vicar on second thoughts mounting his cold black mare to avoid exerting his foot too much at the starting Stephen said he would want a man to assist him worm! the vicar shouted a minute or two after a voice was heard around the corner of the building mumbling ah, you should be strong enough but his altar now well there, William is independent as one here and there even if they do reach Squire after the names what's the matter? said the vicar as William Worm appeared when the remarks were repeated to him Worm says some very true things sometimes Mr. Swancourt said turning to Stephen now as regards that word Esquire why Mr. Smith, that word Esquire has gone to the dogs used on the letters of every jack and apes who has a black coat anything else Worm? the folks have begun frying again oh dear me do you hear that? yes, said Worm, groaning me to Stephen they got such a noise in my head that there's no living to your day it is just for all the worldly people frying fish fry, fry, fry all day long in my poor head till I don't know where I'm here or yonder there, God, I'll meet you find out sooner or later, I hope and relieve me now my deafness said Mr. Swancourt impressively there's a dead silence fish in his head very remarkable isn't it you can hear the frying pan of fizz in his naturalist life said Worm corroboratively yes, it is remarkable said Mr. Smith very peculiar, very peculiar echoed the vicar and they all then followed a path up the hill bounded on each side by a little stone wall from which gleamed fragments of quartz and blood red marbles apparently of inestimitable value the setting of brown eluvium Steven walked on with the dignity of a man close to the horse's head Worm stumbled along as stones throw in the rear and Elfride was nowhere in particular yet everywhere sometimes in front, sometimes behind sometimes at the sides hovering about the procession like a butterfly not definitely engaged in travelling yet somehow chiming in at points with the general progress the vicar explained things as he went on the fact is Mr. Smith I didn't want this bother of church restoration at all but it was necessary to do something in self defence on account of those damn dissenters I use the word and it's scriptural meaning of course not as an expletive how very odd said Steven with the concern demanded of serious friendliness odd, that's nothing how it isn't a parish of twinkly both the church wardens are there, I won't say what they are and the clerk and the sexton as well how very strange said Steven strange my dear sir that's nothing to how it is in the parish of sinerton however as to our own parish I hope we shall make some progress soon you must trust the circumstances there are no circumstances to trust you we may as well trust in providence if we trust at all but here we are it's a violent place isn't it but I like it on such days as is the church yard was entered on this side by a stone style over which having clambered you remain still on the wild hill the within not being so divided from the without as to obliterate the sense of open freedom a delightful place to be buried in postulating that the light can accompany a man to his tomb under any circumstances there was nothing horrible in this church yard in the shape of tight mounds bonded with sticks which shout imprisonment in the ears rather than whisper rest or trim garden flowers which only raise images of people the new black crepe and white handkerchiefs coming to tend them or wheel marks which remind us of herces and mourning coaches or cypress bushes which make a parade of sorrow or coffin boards and bones lying behind trees where we are only lease holders of our graves no nothing but long wild untutored grass diversifying the forms of the mounds it covered themselves irregularly shaped with no eye to effect the impressive presence of the old mountain that all this was part of being nowhere excluded by disguising art outside were similar slopes and similar grass and then the serene and passive sea visible to a width of half the horizon and meeting the eye with the effect of a vast concave like the interior of a blue vessel detached rocks stood up right afar, a colour of foam girding their bases and repeating in its whiteness the plumage of a countless multitude of gulls that restlessly hovered about now worm said Mr Swancourt sharply and worm started to an attitude of attention and once to receive his orders Stephen on himself were then left in possession and the work went on till early in the afternoon when dinner was announced by unity of the vicarage kitchen running up the hill without a bonnet. Elfre did not make her appearance and signed the building till late in the afternoon and came then by special invitation from Stephen during dinner she looked so intensely living and full of movement as she came into the old silent place that young smith's world began to be lit by the purple light in all its definiteness worm was got rid of by sending him to measure the height of the tower what could she do but come close so close that a minute arc of her skirt touched his foot and asked him how he was getting on with his sketches and set herself to learn the principles of practical menturation as applied to irregular buildings then she must ascend the purple to reimagine for the hundredth time how it would seem to be a preacher presently she leaned over the front of the pulpit don't tell papa will you mr smith if i tell you something she said with a sudden impulse to make a confidence oh no that i won't he said starting up well i write papa's sermons for him very often and he preaches them better than he does his own and then afterwards he talks to people and to me about what he said in his sermon today and forgets that i wrote it for him isn't that absurd how clever you must be said that i couldn't write a sermon for the world oh it's easy enough she said descending from the pulpit and coming close to him to explain more vividly you do it like this did you ever play a game of forfeits called when is it where is it what is it no never ah that's a pity because writing a sermon is very much like playing that game you take the text you think why is it what is it and so on you put that down on there generally then you proceed to the first secondly and thirdlies papa won't have four please he says they're all my eye then you have a final collectively several pages of this being put in great black brackets writing opposite leave this out if the farmers are falling asleep then comes your in conclusion then a few words and i have done well all this time you have put on the back of each page keep your voice down i mean she added correcting herself that's how i do it in papa's sermon book because otherwise he gets louder and louder till at last he shouts like a farmer up a field oh papa is so funny in some things then after this childish burst of confidence she was frightened as if warned by womanly instinct which for the moment her ardor had outrun that she had been too forward to a comparative stranger elfrida saw her father then and went away into the wind being caught by a gust as she ascended the church yard slope in which gust she had the motions without the motives of a hoidon the grace without the self-consciousness of a pirouette her she conversed for a minute or two with her father and proceeded homeward coming onto the church to steven the wind had freshened his warm complexion as it freshened the glow of a brand he was in a mood of jollity and watched elfrida down the hill with a smile near little fly away you look wild enough now he said and turned to steven but she's not a wild child at all mister smith as steady as you and that you are steady i see from your diligence here i think miss swancourt very clever steven observed yes she is certainly she is said papa turning his voice as much as possible to the neutral tone of disinterested criticism now smith i must tell you something but she mustn't know it for the world not for the world mine for she insists upon keeping it a dead secret why she writes my sermons for me often and a very good job she makes of them oh she can do anything well she can do that the little rascal has a very trick of the trade but mind you smith not a word about it to her not a single word not a word said smith look there said mrs. swancourt my roofing he pointed with his walking stick at the chancel roof did you do that sir yes i worked in shirt sleeves all the time that was going on i pulled down the old rafters fixed the new ones put on the battens slated the roof all with my own hands worm being my assistant we worked like slaves didn't we worm nah sure we did i didn't saw me around there he said william worm cropping up from somewhere i don't believe and where'd you foam on madsor when the nails wouldn't go in straight there isn't too bad to cuss and keep it in as to cuss and let it out is it sir well why because you sir when you were putting on the roof only used to cuss in your mind which is i suppose no arm at all i don't think you know what goes on in my mind worm oh don't we sir maybe i'm but a poor wamblin thing sir i don't read much but i can spell as well there's some here and there don't we mind sir that blusterous night when you asked me to hold a candle with you in your workshop when you were making a new chair for the chancellor yes what of it i stood with a candle and you said you liked company it was only a dog or cat main of me and the chair wouldn't do no well nah i remember no the chair wouldn't do no well i was all very good to look at but lord worm how often have i corrected you for irreverence speaking i was all very good to look at but you couldn't sit in the chair no well it was all a twist with the chair like the letter z directly you sat down upon it get up worm says you when you see the chair go all a sway with me hope you took the chair and flung in like fire and brinstone to the other end of the shop all in a passion damn the chair says i just what are you thinking sir i could see it in your face sir says i and i hope you and god would forgive me for saying what you wouldn't to save your life you couldn't help laughing sir a poor wambler reading your thoughts so plain i am as wise as one here and there i thought you'd better have some practical man to go over the church and tower with you mrs. swancourt said to steve in the following morning so i got lord luxellian's permission to send for a man when you came i told him to be there at ten o'clock he was a very intelligent man and he will tell you all you want to know about the state of the walls his name is john smith elfriede did not like to be seen again at the church with steve i will watch here for your appearance at the top of the tower she said laughingly i shall see your figure against the sky and when i am up there i'll wave my handkerchief to you mrs. swancourt said steve in twelve minutes from this present moment he added looking at his watch she went round to the corner of the shrubbery whence she could watch him down the slopes leading to the foot of the hill on which the church stood there she saw waiting for him a white spot a mason in his working clothes steve met this man and stopped to her surprise instead of moving onto the churchyard they both leisurely sat down upon a stone close by their meeting place and remained as if in deep conversation elfriede looked at the time nine of the twelve minutes had passed and steve and showed no signs of moving more minutes passed she grew cold with waving and shivered it is not to the end of quarter of an hour that they began to slowly wind up the hill at a snail's pace rude and unmanly she said to herself colouring with peak anybody would think he was enough with that horrid mason instead of wit the sentence remained unspoken though not untoward she returned to the porch is the man you sent for a lazy sit still doing nothing kind of man she inquired of her father no he said surprised quite the reverse he is lord luxellian's master mason john smith oh said elfriede indifferently and returned towards oblique station and waited and shivered again it was a trifle after all a childish thing looking out from a tower and waving a handkerchief but her new friend had promised and why should he tease her so the effect of a blow is as proportionate to the texture of the object struck as to its own momentum and she had such a superlative capacity for being wounded that little hits struck her hard it was not till the end of half an hour that two figures were seen above the parapet of the dreary old pile motionless as bitons on a ruined musk even then steve and was not true enough to perform what he was so courteous to promise and he vanished without making a sign he returned at midday elfriede looked vexed when unconscious at his eyes or upon her when conscious severe however her attitude of coldness had long outlived the coldness itself and she could no longer utter feigned words of indifference ah you weren't kind to keep me waiting in the cold and break your promise she said at last reproachfully in tones too low for her father's power of hearing forgive forgive me said steve and with dismay I had forgotten quite forgotten something prevented my remembering any further explanation said miss capricious pouting he was silent for a few minutes and looked the scants none he said with the accent of one who concealed a sin end of chapter 4 chapter 5 of a pair of blue eyes this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Tye Hines a pair of blue eyes by Thomas Hardy chapter 5 bosomed high in tufted trees it was breakfast time as seen from the vicarage dining room which took a warm tone of light from the fire the weather and scene outside seemed to have stereotyped themselves in unrelieved shades of grey the long armed trees and shrubs of juniper cedar and pine varieties were greyish black those of the broadleaved sort together with the herbage were greyish green the eternal hills and tower behind them were a greyish brown dropping behind all grey of the purest melancholy yet in spite of this somber artistic effect the morning was not one which tended to lower the spirits it was even cheering for it did not rain nor was rain likely to fall for many days to come and Frida had turned from the table towards the fire and was idly elevating a handscreen before her face when she heard the click of a little gate outside ah, here's the postman she said as the shuffling active man came through an opening in the shrubbery and across the lawn she vanished and met him on the porch afterwards coming in with the hands behind her back how many are there? three for Papa one for Mr. Smith none for Mr. Wancourt and Papa, look here one of yours is from whom do you think? Lord looks alien and it has something hard in it a lump of something peeling it through the envelope and can't think what it is what is luxelian right for I wonder Mr. Swancourt had said simultaneous with her words he handed Stephen his letter and took his own putting on his countenance a higher class of luck than was customary as became a poor gentleman who was going to read a letter from a peer Stephen read his missive with the countenance quite the reverse of the vickers Percy Place Thursday evening Dear Smith old H is in a towering rage with you for being so long about the church sketches swears you are more trouble than you are worth he says that I am to write and say you are to stay no longer on any consideration that he would have done it all in three hours very easily I told him you were not like an experienced hand which he seemed to forget but it did not make much difference however between you and me privately if I were you I would not alarm myself for a day or so if I were not inclined to return I would make out the week and finish my spray he will blow up just as much if you appear here on Saturday as if you keep away till Monday morning yours very truly Simkins Jenkins do me very awkward said Stephen rather on layer and confused with the kind of confusion that assails an understrapper when he has been enlarged by accident to the dimensions of a superior and as somewhat rudely pared down to his original size what is awkward said Miss Swancourt Smith by this time had recovered his equanimity and with it the professional dignity of an experienced architect important business demands my immediate presence in London I regret to say he replied what? must you go at once said Mr. Swancourt looking over the edge of his letter important business make you to have important business the truth is said Stephen blushing and rather ashamed of having pretended even so slightly to a consequence which did not belong to him the truth is Mr. Hube has said to say that I am to come home and I must obey him I see I see it is politic to do so you mean now I can see more than you think you were to be his partner I booked you for that directly I read his letter to me the other day and the way he spoke of you he thinks a great deal of you Mr. Smith or he wouldn't be so anxious for your return unpleasant to Stephen such remarks as these could not sound to have the expectancy of partnership with one of the largest practicing architects in London thrust upon him was cheering however untenable he felt the idea to be he saw that whatever Mr. Hube might think Mr. Swancourt certainly thought much of him to have seen such an idea on such slender grounds as to be absolutely no ground at all and then unaccountably his speaking face exhibited a cloud of sadness which a reflection on the remoteness of any such contingency could hardly have suffice to cause Elfrida was struck with that look of his even Mr. Swancourt noticed it well he said cheerfully never mind that now you must come again on your own account come to see me as a visitor you know say in your holidays all you town men have holidays like school boys when are they in August I believe very well come in August and then you need not hurry away so I'm glad to get somebody decent to talk to or at in this outlandish yulet and the tulle but by the by I have something to say you won't go today no I need not said Stephen hesitatingly I'm not obliged to get back before Monday morning very well then that brings me to what I am going to propose this is a letter from Lord Luxelion I think you have heard me speak of him as the resident landowner in the district and patron of this living I know of them he's in London now it seems that he has run up on business for a day or two and taken Lady Luxelion with him he has written to ask me to go to his house and search for a paper among his private memoranda which he forgot to take with him what did he send in the letter inquired Elfride the key of a private desk in which the papers are he doesn't like to trust such a matter to anybody else I've done such things for him before and what I propose is that we make an afternoon of it all three of us go for a drive to Targon Bay come home by way of Enelsel House and whilst I'm looking over the documents tell me a little about the room that you like I have the run of the house at any time you know the building though nothing but a mass of gables outside has a splendid hall, staircase and gallery within and there are a few good pictures yes there are said Stephen have you seen the place then I saw it as it came by he said hastily oh yes but I was alluding to the interior and the church St. Evils is much older than our St. Agnes is here I do duty in that and this alternatively you know the fact is I ought to have some help riding across that park for two miles on a wet morning is not at all the thing if my constitution were not well seasoned as thank God it is here Mr. Swancourt looked down his front as if his constitution were visible there I should be coughing and barking all the year round and when the family goes away there are only about three servants to preach to when I get there well that should be the arrangement then Alfreda would you like to go Alfreda assented and the little breakfast party separated Stephen rose to go and take a few final measurements at the church the vicar following him to the door with a mysterious expression of inquiry on his face you will put up with our not having family prayer this morning I hope he whispered yes quite so said Stephen to tell you the truth he continued in the same undertone we don't make a regular thing of it but when we have strangers visiting us I am strongly of opinion that it is the proper thing to do and always do it I'm very strict on that point but you Smith there's something in your face which makes me feel quite at home no nonsense about you in short that reminds me of a splendid story I used to hear when I was a helter skelter young fellow such a story but here the vicar shook his head bittingly and grimly laughed was it a good story said young Smith smiling too oh yes but it's too bad too bad I couldn't tell it to you for the world Stephen went across the lawn hearing the vicar chuckling privately at the recollection as he would to drill they started at three o'clock the grey morning had resolved itself into an afternoon bright with a pale pervasive sunlight felt the sun itself being visible lightly they trotted along the wheels nearly silent the horses hooves clapping almost ringing upon the hard white turnpike road as it followed the level ridge in a perfectly straight line seeming to be absorbed ultimately by the white of the sky carden bay which had the merit of being easily got at was duly visited they then swept round by innumerable lanes in which not twenty consecutive yards were either straight or level to the domain of Lord Luxellian a woman with a double chin and thick neck like Queen Anne by Dahl through open the large gate a little boy standing behind her oh I give him something poor little fellow said Elfride pulling out her purse and hastily opening it from the interior of her purse a host of bits of paper like a flock of white birds floated into the air and were blown about in all directions well to be sure said Stephen with a slight laugh what the dickens is all that said Mr Swancourt not hard of banknotes Elfride Elfride looked annoyed and guilty there's only something of mine papa she faltered while Stephen leapt out and assisted by the large keeper's little boy crept about round the wheels and horses hooves till the papers were all gathered together again he handed them back to her and remounted I suppose you are wondering what those scraps were she said as they bowled along up to Sycamore Avenue and so I may as well tell you they are notes for a romance I am writing she could not help colouring at the confession much as she tried to avoid it a story do you mean said Stephen Mr Swancourt half listening and catching a word of the conversation every now and then the court of Kellyan Castle the romance of the 15th century such writing is out of date now I know but I like doing it a romance carried in a purse if a highwayman were to rob you he would be taken in yes that's my way of carrying my new script the real reason is that I mostly write bits of it on scraps of paper when I am on horseback and I put them there for convenience what are you going to do with the romance when you have written it I don't know she replied and turned her head to look at the prospect for by this time they had reached the precincts of Endelstow House driving through an ancient gateway of done coloured stone spanned by the high-shouldered Tudor Arch they found themselves in a spacious court closed by a façade on each of its three sides the substantial portions of the existing building dated from the reign of Henry VIII but the picturesque and sheltered spot had been the site of an erection of a much earlier date a licence to crenellate mansum infaminarium zoom was granted by Edward II to Hugo, Luxelin, Chivalere but though the faint outline of the ditch and mound was visible at points no sign of the original building remained the windows on all sides were long and many mullioned the roof lines broken up by dormer lights of the same pattern the apex stones of these dormers together with those of the gables were surmounted by grotesque figures in rampant, passon and cruciant variety tall, octagonal and twisted chimneys thrust themselves high up into the sky surpassed in height however by some poplars and sycamores at the back which showed their gently rocking summits over ridge and parapet in the corners of the court, polygonal bays whose surfaces were entirely occupied butchresses and windows broke into the squareness of the enclosure and the far projecting aureal springing from a fantastic series of mollings overhung the archway of the chief entrance of the house as Mr Swancourt had remarked he had the freedom of the mansion in the absence of its owner upon a statement of his errand they were all admitted to the library and left entirely to themselves Mr Swancourt was soon up to his eyes in the examination of a heap of papers in the cabinet, described by his correspondent Stephen and Elfride had nothing to do but wonder about till her father was ready Elfride entered the gallery and Stephen followed her without seeming to do so it was a long somber apartment enriched with fittings a century or so later in style than the walls of the mansion palasters of Renaissance workmanship supported a cornice from which sprang a curved ceiling paneled in the awkward twists of the period the old Gothic quarries still remained in the upper portion of the large window at the end though they had made way for a more modern form of glazing elsewhere Stephen was at one end of the gallery looking towards Elfride who stood in the midst beginning to feel so much depressed by the society of luxuriant shades of cadaverous complexion fixed by Holbein, Neller and Lille and seeming to gaze at the silence which cast almost a spell upon them was broken by the sudden opening of the door at the far end outbounded a pair of little girls lightly yet warmly dressed their eyes were sparkling their hair swinging about and around their red mouths laughing with unalloyed gladness ah Miss Swancore, dearest Elfie we heard you, are you going to stay here? you are our little mama are you not? our big mama has gone to London, said one let me kiss you said the other in appearance very much like the first but to a smaller pattern their pink cheeks and yellow hair were speedily intermingled with the folds of Elfride's dress then she stooped and tenderly embraced them both such a nod thing said Elfride smiling and turning to Stephen they have taken it into their heads lately to call me little mama because I'm very fond of them and wore a dress the other day like one of Lady Luxellian's the two young creatures were the honourable Mary and the honourable Kate scarcely appearing large enough yet as to bear the weight of such ponderous prefixes they were the only two children of Lord and Lady Luxellian and, as it proved, had been left at home during their parents' temporary absence in the custody of nurse and governess Lord Luxellian was dotingly fond of the two children rather indifferent towards his wife and fond to show an inclination not to please them by giving him a boy all children instinctively ran after Elfride looking upon her more as an unusually nice large specimen of their own tribe than as a grown-up elder it had now become an established rule that whenever she met them indoors or out of doors, weekdays or Sundays they were to be severally pressed against her face and bosom for the space of quarter of a minute and a half under the delightful system of cumulative epithet and caresses to which unpracticed girls will occasionally abandon themselves a look of misgiving by the youngsters towards the door by which they had entered directed attention to a maid servant appearing from the same quarter to put an end to this sweet freedom of the poor honourable's Mary and Kate I wish you lived here, Miss Swancourt piped one like a melancholy bullfinch and so do I piped the other like a rather more melancholy bullfinch Mama can't play with her so nicely as you do I don't think she ever learnt playing when she was little when shall we come to see you? as soon as you like, my dears and sleep at night in your house that's what I mean by coming to see you I don't care to see people with hats and bonnets on and all standing up and walking about as soon as we can get Mama's permission you shall come and stay as soon as you like goodbye the prisoners then led it off Elfride again turning her attention to her guest whom she had left standing at the remote end of the gallery on looking around for him he was nowhere to be seen Elfride stepped down to the library thinking he might have rejoined her father there but Mr Swancourt now cheerfully illuminated by a pair of candles was still alone on tying packets of letters and papers as Elfride did not stand on a sufficiently intimate footing with the object of her interest to justify her as a proper young lady to commence the act of search for him that useful impulsiveness prompted and as nevertheless for a nascent reason connected with those divinely cut lips of his she did not like him to be absent from her side she wandered desultorily back to the oak staircase pouting and casting her eyes about in hope of discerning his boyish figure though daylight still prevailed in the rooms the corridors were in a depth of shadow chill, sad and silent and it was only by looking along them towards light spaces beyond that anything or anybody could be discerned therein one of these light spots she found to be caused by a side door with glass panels in the upper part Elfride opened it and found herself confronting a secondary or inner lawn separated from the principal lawn by a shrubbery and now she saw a perplexing sight at right angles to the face of the wing she had emerged from and within a few feet of the door jutted out another wing of the mansion lower and with less architectural character immediately opposite to her in the wall of this wing was a long broad window having its blind drawn down and illuminated by a light in the room it screened on the blind was a shadow of her on the blind was a shadow of somebody close to it a person in profile the profile was unmistakably that of Stephen it was just possible to see that his arms were uplifted and that his hands held an article of some kind then another shadow appeared also in profile and came close to him this was the shadow of a woman she turned her back towards Stephen he lifted and held out what now proved to be a shawl or mantel placed it carefully so carefully round the lady disappeared, reappeared in front and fastened the mantel did he then kiss her? surely not yet the motion might have been a kiss then both shadows swelled to colossal dimensions grew distorted and vanished two minutes elapsed ah Miss Swancourt I'm glad to find you I was looking for you at her elbow, Stephen's voice she stepped into the passage do you know any members of this establishment? she said not a single one how should I? he replied end of chapter 5 chapter 6 of a pair of blue eyes this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer visit LibriVox.org recording by Tyge Hines chapter 6 of a pair of blue eyes by Thomas Hardy fare thee wheel a while simultaneously with the conclusion of Stephen's remark the sound of the closing of an external door in their immediate neighbourhood reached Elfride's ears it came from the further side of the wing containing the illuminated room she then discerned by the aid of the dusky departing light a figure whose sex was undistinguishable walking down the gravel path by the parterre towards the river the figure grew fainter and vanished under the trees Mr Swancourt's voice was heard calling out their names from a distant corridor in the body of the building they retraced their steps and found him with his coat buttoned up on his hat on awaiting their advent with a mood of satisfaction that having brought his search to a successful close the carriage was brought round and without further delay the trio drove away from the mansion under the echoing gateway arch and along by the leafless sycamores as the stars began to kindle their trembling lights behind the maze of branches and twigs no words were spoken by either youth or maiden her unpracticed mind was completely occupied in fathoming recent acquisition the young man who had inspired her with such novelty of feeling who had come directly from London on business to her father having been brought by chance to Endelsoe House had, by some means or other acquired the privilege of approaching some lady he had found therein and of honouring her by petease one of a marked kind all in the space of half an hour what room were they standing in as nearly as she could guess it was Lord Luxellian's business room or office what people were in the house none but the governess and servants as far as she knew and of these he had professed a total ignorance had the person she had seen indistinctly leaving the house anything to do with her performance it was impossible to say without appealing to the culprit himself and that she would never do the more Elfride reflected the more certain did it appear that a meeting was a chance to encounter and not an appointment on the ultimate inquiry as to the individuality of the woman Elfride at once assumed that she could not be an inferior Steven Smith was not the man to care about passages at love with women beneath him though gentle, ambition was visible in his kindling eyes he evidently hoped for much indefinitely but extensively Elfride was puzzled and being puzzled was by the natural sequence of girlish sensations vexed with him no more pleasure came in recognising that from liking to attract him she was getting on to love him boyish as he was and innocent as he had seemed there reached a bridge which formed a link between the eastern and western halves of the parish situated in a valley that was bounded to sea it formed a point of depression from which the road ascended with great steepness to west end Littlestow and the vicarage there was no absolute necessity for either of them to alight but as it was the vicar's custom after a long journey to humour the horse in making this winding ascent Elfride moved by an imitative instinct suddenly jumped out when Pleasant had just begun to adopt the deliberate stalk he associated with this portion of the road the young man seemed lad of any excuse for breaking the silence why miss swancourt what a risky thing to do he exclaimed immediately following her example by jumping down on the other side oh no not at all she said coldly the shadow phenomenon at end of Stowhouse still paramount within her Stephen walked along by himself for two or three minutes wrapped in the rigid reserve dictated her tone then apparently thinking that it was only for girls to pout he came serenely around to her side and offered his arm with castilian gallantry to assist her in ascending the remaining three quarters of the steep here was a temptation it was the first time in her life that Elfride had been treated as a grown up woman in this way offered an arm in manner applying that she had the right to refuse it till tonight she had never received the masculine attentions beyond those which might be contained in such homely remarks as Elfride give me your hand Elfride take hold of my arm from her father her callow heart made an epoch of the incident she considered her array of feelings for and against collectively they were for taking his offered arm the single one of peak determined her to punish Stephen by refusing no thank you mr smith I can get along better myself it was Elfride's first fragile attempt at brow beating a lover fearing more the issue of such an undertaking than what a gentle young man might think of her waywardness she immediately afterwards determined to please herself by reversing her statement on second thoughts I will take it she said they slowly went away up the hill a few yards behind the carriage how silent you are miss one court Stephen observed perhaps I think you silent too she returned I may have reason to be scarcely it is sadness that makes people silent and you have none you don't know I have trouble though some might think it less trouble than a dilemma what is it she asked impulsively Stephen hesitated I might tell he said at the same time perhaps it is as well she let go his arm and imperatively pushed it from her tossing her head she had just learnt that a good deal of dignity is lost by asking a question to which an answer is refused even ever so politely for though politeness does good service in cases of requisition and compromise it but little helps a direct refusal I don't wish to know anything of it I don't wish it she went on the carriage is waiting for us at the top of the hill we must get in said Elfride fitting to the front papa here's your Elfride she exclaimed to the dusky figure of the old gentleman as she sprang up and sank by his side without deigning to accept aid from Stephen ha yes uttered the vicar in artificially alert tones awaking from a most profound sleep and suddenly preparing to a light why what are you doing papa we're not at home yet oh no no of course not we're not at home yet said Mr. Swancourt very hastily endeavouring to dodge back to his original position with the air of a man who had not moved at all the fact is I was so lost in deep meditation that I forgot whereabouts we were and in a minute the vicar was snoring again that evening being the last seemed to throw an exceptional shade of sadness over Stephen Smith and the repeated injunctions of the vicar that he was to come to visit them in the summer apparently tended less to raise his spirits than to unearth some misgiving he left them in the grey light of dawn whilst the colours of earth were somber and the sun was yet hidden in the east Elfride had fidgeted all night in her little bed lest none of the household should wake soon enough to start them and also lest she might miss seeing again the bright eyes and curly hair to which their owners' possession of a hidden mystery added a deeper sense to some extent so soon does womanly interest make a solicitous turn she felt herself responsible for her safe conduct the breakfast had before daylight Mr Swancourt being more and more taken with his guests in a genuine appearance having determined to rise early and bid him a friendly farewell it was however rather than a vicar's astonishment that he saw Elfride walk into the breakfast table candle in hand whilst William Warren performed his toilet during which performance the inmates of the vicarage were always in the habit of waiting with exemplary patience Elfride wandered desultorily to the summer house Stephen followed her dither the cup's covered valley was visible from this position a mist now lying all along its length hiding the stream which trickled through it though the observers themselves were in clear air they stood close together leaning over the rustic balustrading which bounded the arbor on the outward side and formed the crest of a steep slope beneath which Elfride constrainedly pointed out some features of the distant uplands rising irregularly opposite but the artistic eye was either from nature or circumstance very faint in Stephen now and the only half attended to her description as if he spared time from some other thought going on within him well, goodbye he said suddenly I must never see you again as a boss in a swan court in spite of invitations his genuine tribulation played directly upon the delicate cords of her nature she could afford to forgive him for a concealment or two moreover the shyness which would not allow him to look her in the face lent bravery to her own eyes and tongue oh, do come again Mr. Smith she said prettily I should delight in it but it will be better if I do not why? certain circumstances in connection with me make it undesirable not on my account, on yours goodness as if anything in connection with you could hurt me she said with serene supremacy but seeing that this plan of treatment was inappropriate she tuned a smaller note ah, I know why you will not come you don't want to you will go home to London and to all the stirring people there and will never want to see us any more you know I have no such reason and go on writing letters to the lady you were engaged to just as before what does that mean? I am not engaged you wrote a letter to a Miss Somebody I saw it in the letter rack an elderly woman who keeps a stationer shop and it was the teller to keep my newspapers till I get back you didn't have explained it was not my business at all Miss Elfride was rather relieved to hear that statement nevertheless and you won't come again to see my father she insisted I should like to and to see you again but will you reveal to me the matter you hired? she interrupted petulantly no, not now she could not but go on, graced as I might seem tell me this, she import tuned with a trembling melt, does any meeting of yours with a lady at end with so vicarage clash with and the interest you may taken me? he started a little it does not, he said emphatically and looked into the pupils of her eyes with the confidence that only honesty can give and even that to a youth alone the explanation had not come but a gloom left her she could not but believe that utterance whatever enigma might lie in the shadow on the blind it was not an enigma of underhand passion she turned towards the house entering it through the conservatory Steven went around to the front door Mr Swancourt was standing on the steps in his slippers Worm was adjusting a buckle in the harness and murmuring about his pearl head and everything was ready for Steven's departure you named August for your visit and August it shall be that is, if you care for the society in search of fossilized Tory said Mr Swancourt Mr Smith only responded hesitatingly that he should like to come again you said you would and you must insisted Elfride coming to the door and speaking under her father's arm whatever the reason the youth may have had for not wishing to enter the house as a guest it no longer predominated he promised and gave them a dew and got into the pony carriage which crept up the slope and bore him out of the sight I never was so much taken with anybody in all my life as I am with that young fellow never, I cannot understand it I cannot understand it anyhow said Mr Swancourt quite energetically to himself and went indoors End of chapter 6