lways." Her voice was now so low as to be scarcely above a
whisper.

"You will go to sleep there, I suppose, won't you? You have shut your
eyes already."

"No. I shall not sleep much till--another day, and then I hope to have
a long, long one--very long. Now can you tell me if Rimsmoor Pond is dry
this summer?"

"Rimsmoor Pond is, but Oker's Pool isn't, because he is deep, and is
never dry--'tis just over there."

"Is the water clear?"

"Yes, middling--except where the heath-croppers walk into it."

"Then, take this, and go as fast as you can, and dip me up the clearest
you can find. I am very faint."

She drew from the small willow reticule that she carried in her hand an
old-fashioned china teacup without a handle; it was one of half a dozen
of the same sort lying in the reticule, which she had preserved ever
since her childhood, and had brought with her today as a small present
for Clym and Eustacia.

The boy started on his errand, and soon came back with the water, such
as it was. Mrs. Yeobright attempted to drink, but it was so warm as to
give her nausea, and she threw it away. Afterwards she still remained
sitting, with her eyes closed.

The boy waited, played near her, caught several of the little brown
butterflies which abounded, and then said as he waited again, "I like
going on better than biding still. Will you soon start again?"

"I don't know."

"I wish I might go on by myself," he resumed, fearing, apparently, that
he was to be pressed into some unpleasant service. "Do you want me any
more, please?"

Mrs. Yeobright made no reply.

"What shall I tell Mother?" the boy continued.

"Tell her you have seen a broken-hearted woman cast off by her son."

Before quite leaving her he threw upon her face a wistful glance, as if
he had misgivings on the generosity of forsaking her thus. He gazed into
her face in a vague, wondering manner, like that of one examining some
strange old manuscript the key to whose characters is undiscoverable. He
was not so young as to be absolutely without a sense that sympathy
was demanded, he was not old enough to be free from the terror felt
in childhood at beholding misery in adult quarters hither-to deemed
impregnable; and whether she were in a position to cause trouble or to
suffer from it, whether she and her affliction were something to pity or
something to fear, it was beyond him to decide. He lowered his eyes
and went on without another word. Before he had go