The Woodlanders

The woods were uninteresting, and Grace stayed in-doors a great deal.

She became quite a student, reading more than she had done since her

marriage But her seclusion was always broken for the periodical visit

to Winterborne's grave with Marty, which was kept up with pious

strictness, for the purpose of putting snow-drops, primroses, and other

vernal flowers thereon as they came.

One afternoon at sunset she was standing just outside her father's

garden, which, like the rest of the Hintock enclosures, abutted into

the wood. A slight foot-path led along here, forming a secret way to

either of the houses by getting through its boundary hedge. Grace was

just about to adopt this mode of entry when a figure approached along

the path, and held up his hand to detain her. It was her husband.

"I am delighted," he said, coming up out of breath; and there seemed no

reason to doubt his words. "I saw you some way off--I was afraid you

would go in before I could reach you."

"It is a week before the time," said she, reproachfully. "I said a

fortnight from the last meeting."

"My dear, you don't suppose I could wait a fortnight without trying to

get a glimpse of you, even though you had declined to meet me! Would it

make you angry to know that I have been along this path at dusk three

or four times since our last meeting? Well, how are you?"

She did not refuse her hand, but when he showed a wish to retain it a

moment longer than mere formality required, she made it smaller, so

that it slipped away from him, with again that same alarmed look which

always followed his attempts in this direction. He saw that she was not

yet out of the elusive mood; not yet to be treated presumingly; and he

was correspondingly careful to tranquillize her.

His assertion had seemed to impress her somewhat. "I had no idea you

came so often," she said. "How far do you come from?"

"From Exbury. I always walk from Sherton-Abbas, for if I hire, people

will know that I come; and my success with you so far has not been

great enough to justify such overtness. Now, my dear one--as I MUST

call you--I put it to you: will you see me a little oftener as the

spring advances?"

Grace lapsed into unwonted sedateness, and avoiding the question, said,

"I wish you would concentrate on your profession, and give up those

strange studies that used to distract you so much. I am sure you would

get on."