means."

So a whimsical fate ordered that her hat should be taken off--veil
and all attached--and placed upon his head, Troy tossing his own into
a gooseberry bush. Then the veil had to be tied at its lower edge
round his collar and the gloves put on him.

He looked such an extraordinary object in this guise that, flurried
as she was, she could not avoid laughing outright. It was the removal
of yet another stake from the palisade of cold manners which had kept
him off.

Bathsheba looked on from the ground whilst he was busy sweeping and
shaking the bees from the tree, holding up the hive with the other
hand for them to fall into. She made use of an unobserved minute
whilst his attention was absorbed in the operation to arrange her
plumes a little. He came down holding the hive at arm's length,
behind which trailed a cloud of bees.

"Upon my life," said Troy, through the veil, "holding up this hive
makes one's arm ache worse than a week of sword-exercise." When the
manoeuvre was complete he approached her. "Would you be good enough
to untie me and let me out? I am nearly stifled inside this silk
cage."

To hide her embarrassment during the unwonted process of untying the
string about his neck, she said:--

"I have never seen that you spoke of."

"What?"

"The sword-exercise."

"Ah! would you like to?" said Troy.

Bathsheba hesitated. She had heard wondrous reports from time to
time by dwellers in Weatherbury, who had by chance sojourned awhile
in Casterbridge, near the barracks, of this strange and glorious
performance, the sword-exercise. Men and boys who had peeped through
chinks or over walls into the barrack-yard returned with accounts of
its being the most flashing affair conceivable; accoutrements and
weapons glistening like stars--here, there, around--yet all by rule
and compass. So she said mildly what she felt strongly.

"Yes; I should like to see it very much."

"And so you shall; you shall see me go through it."

"No! How?"

"Let me consider."

"Not with a walking-stick--I don't care to see that. It must be a
real sword."

"Yes, I know; and I have no sword here; but I think I could get one
by the evening. Now, will you do this?"

Troy bent over her and murmured some suggestion in a low voice.

"Oh no, indeed!" said Bathsheba, blushing. "Thank you very much, but
I couldn't on any account."

"Surely you might? Nobody would know."

She shook her head, but with a weakened n