the rest of the world, should believe that the episode was rather her
fault than her misfortune. She decided to employ persuasion--not with
Donald but with the enemy himself. It seemed the only practicable weapon
left her as a woman. Having laid her plan she rose, and wrote to him who
kept her on these tenterhooks:--

"I overheard your interview with my husband last night, and saw the
drift of your revenge. The very thought of it crushes me! Have pity on a
distressed woman! If you could see me you would relent. You do not know
how anxiety has told upon me lately. I will be at the Ring at the time
you leave work--just before the sun goes down. Please come that way. I
cannot rest till I have seen you face to face, and heard from your mouth
that you will carry this horse-play no further."

To herself she said, on closing up her appeal: "If ever tears and
pleadings have served the weak to fight the strong, let them do so now!"

With this view she made a toilette which differed from all she had ever
attempted before. To heighten her natural attraction had hitherto been
the unvarying endeavour of her adult life, and one in which she was no
novice. But now she neglected this, and even proceeded to impair the
natural presentation. Beyond a natural reason for her slightly drawn
look, she had not slept all the previous night, and this had produced
upon her pretty though slightly worn features the aspect of a
countenance ageing prematurely from extreme sorrow. She selected--as
much from want of spirit as design--her poorest, plainest and longest
discarded attire.

To avoid the contingency of being recognized she veiled herself, and
slipped out of the house quickly. The sun was resting on the hill like a
drop of blood on an eyelid by the time she had got up the road opposite
the amphitheatre, which she speedily entered. The interior was shadowy,
and emphatic of the absence of every living thing.

She was not disappointed in the fearful hope with which she awaited him.
Henchard came over the top, descended and Lucetta waited breathlessly.
But having reached the arena she saw a change in his bearing: he stood
still at a little distance from her; she could not think why.

Nor could any one else have known. The truth was that in appointing this
spot, and this hour, for the rendezvous, Lucetta had unwittingly backed
up her entreaty by the strongest argument she could have used outside
words, with this man of moods, glooms, and sup