of her feeling with grand control.

"You shall. I am sure we shall be happy together."

Lucetta departed to join Donald below, a vague uneasiness floating over
her joy at seeing him quite at home there. Not on account of her friend
Elizabeth did she feel it: for of the bearings of Elizabeth-Jane's
emotions she had not the least suspicion; but on Henchard's alone.

Now the instant decision of Susan Henchard's daughter was to dwell
in that house no more. Apart from her estimate of the propriety of
Lucetta's conduct, Farfrae had been so nearly her avowed lover that she
felt she could not abide there.

It was still early in the evening when she hastily put on her things and
went out. In a few minutes, knowing the ground, she had found a suitable
lodging, and arranged to enter it that night. Returning and entering
noiselessly she took off her pretty dress and arrayed herself in a plain
one, packing up the other to keep as her best; for she would have to
be very economical now. She wrote a note to leave for Lucetta, who
was closely shut up in the drawing-room with Farfrae; and then
Elizabeth-Jane called a man with a wheel-barrow; and seeing her boxes
put into it she trotted off down the street to her rooms. They were in
the street in which Henchard lived, and almost opposite his door.

Here she sat down and considered the means of subsistence. The little
annual sum settled on her by her stepfather would keep body and soul
together. A wonderful skill in netting of all sorts--acquired in
childhood by making seines in Newson's home--might serve her in good
stead; and her studies, which were pursued unremittingly, might serve
her in still better.

By this time the marriage that had taken place was known throughout
Casterbridge; had been discussed noisily on kerbstones, confidentially
behind counters, and jovially at the Three Mariners. Whether Farfrae
would sell his business and set up for a gentleman on his wife's money,
or whether he would show independence enough to stick to his trade in
spite of his brilliant alliance, was a great point of interest.

31.

The retort of the furmity-woman before the magistrates had spread; and
in four-and-twenty hours there was not a person in Casterbridge
who remained unacquainted with the story of Henchard's mad freak at
Weydon-Priors Fair, long years before. The amends he had made in after
life were lost sight of in the dramatic glare of the original act. Had
the incident be