nately. But if she makes you a good wife, there has never been a
bad one."

"Believe me, you are almost exasperating," said Yeobright vehemently.
"And this very day I had intended to arrange a meeting between you. But
you give me no peace; you try to thwart my wishes in everything."

"I hate the thought of any son of mine marrying badly! I wish I had
never lived to see this; it is too much for me--it is more than I
dreamt!" She turned to the window. Her breath was coming quickly, and
her lips were pale, parted, and trembling.

"Mother," said Clym, "whatever you do, you will always be dear to
me--that you know. But one thing I have a right to say, which is, that
at my age I am old enough to know what is best for me."

Mrs. Yeobright remained for some time silent and shaken, as if she could
say no more. Then she replied, "Best? Is it best for you to injure your
prospects for such a voluptuous, idle woman as that? Don't you see that
by the very fact of your choosing her you prove that you do not know
what is best for you? You give up your whole thought--you set your whole
soul--to please a woman."

"I do. And that woman is you."

"How can you treat me so flippantly!" said his mother, turning again to
him with a tearful look. "You are unnatural, Clym, and I did not expect
it."

"Very likely," said he cheerlessly. "You did not know the measure you
were going to mete me, and therefore did not know the measure that would
be returned to you again."

"You answer me; you think only of her. You stick to her in all things."

"That proves her to be worthy. I have never yet supported what is bad.
And I do not care only for her. I care for you and for myself, and
for anything that is good. When a woman once dislikes another she is
merciless!"

"O Clym! please don't go setting down as my fault what is your obstinate
wrongheadedness. If you wished to connect yourself with an unworthy
person why did you come home here to do it? Why didn't you do it in
Paris?--it is more the fashion there. You have come only to distress me,
a lonely woman, and shorten my days! I wish that you would bestow your
presence where you bestow your love!"

Clym said huskily, "You are my mother. I will say no more--beyond this,
that I beg your pardon for having thought this my home. I will no longer
inflict myself upon you; I'll go." And he went out with tears in his
eyes.

It was a sunny afternoon at the beginning of summer, and the moist
hollows