had
his successes since, but his course had not been upward. He was not
to be numbered among the aldermen--that Peerage of burghers--as he had
expected to be, and the consciousness of this soured him to-day.

"Well, where have you been?" he said to her with offhand laconism.

"I've been strolling in the Walks and churchyard, father, till I feel
quite leery." She clapped her hand to her mouth, but too late.

This was just enough to incense Henchard after the other crosses of the
day. "I WON'T have you talk like that!" he thundered. "'Leery,' indeed.
One would think you worked upon a farm! One day I learn that you lend
a hand in public-houses. Then I hear you talk like a clodhopper. I'm
burned, if it goes on, this house can't hold us two."

The only way of getting a single pleasant thought to go to sleep upon
after this was by recalling the lady she had seen that day, and hoping
she might see her again.

Meanwhile Henchard was sitting up, thinking over his jealous folly in
forbidding Farfrae to pay his addresses to this girl who did not belong
to him, when if he had allowed them to go on he might not have been
encumbered with her. At last he said to himself with satisfaction as
he jumped up and went to the writing-table: "Ah! he'll think it means
peace, and a marriage portion--not that I don't want my house to be
troubled with her, and no portion at all!" He wrote as follows:--

Sir,--On consideration, I don't wish to interfere with your courtship of
Elizabeth-Jane, if you care for her. I therefore withdraw my objection;
excepting in this--that the business be not carried on in my house.--

Yours, M. HENCHARD Mr. Farfrae.

The morrow, being fairly fine, found Elizabeth-Jane again in the
churchyard, but while looking for the lady she was startled by the
apparition of Farfrae, who passed outside the gate. He glanced up for a
moment from a pocket-book in which he appeared to be making figures as
he went; whether or not he saw her he took no notice, and disappeared.

Unduly depressed by a sense of her own superfluity she thought he
probably scorned her; and quite broken in spirit sat down on a bench.
She fell into painful thought on her position, which ended with her
saying quite loud, "O, I wish I was dead with dear mother!"

Behind the bench was a little promenade under the wall where people
sometimes walked instead of on the gravel. The bench seemed to be
touched by something, she looked round, and a face wa