around their heads like a fog.
“Say you love me, Fancy.”
“No, Dick, certainly not; ‘tisn’t time to do that yet.”
“Why, Fancy?”
“‘Miss Day’ is better at present — don’t mind my saying so; and I ought not to have called you Dick.”
“Nonsense! when you know that I would do anything on earth for your love. Why, you make any one think that loving is a thing that can be done and undone, and put on and put off at a mere whim.”
“No, no, I don’t,” she said gently; “but there are things which tell me I ought not to give way to much thinking about you, even if —”
“But you want to, don’t you? Yes, say you do; it is best to be truthful. Whatever they may say about a woman’s right to conceal where her love lies, and pretend it doesn’t exist, and things like that, it is not best; I do know it, Fancy. And an honest woman in that, as well as in all her daily concerns, shines most brightly, and is thought most of in the long-run.”
“Well then, perhaps, Dick, I do love you a little,” she whispered tenderly; “but I wish you wouldn’t say any more now.”
“I won’t say any more now, then, if you don’t like it, dear. But you do love me a little, don’t you?”
“Now you ought not to want me to keep saying things twice; I can’t say any more now, and you must be content with what you have.”
“I may at any rate call you Fancy? There’s no harm in that.”
“Yes, you may.”
“And you’ll not call me Mr. Dewy any more?”
“Very well.”
Chapter II
Further Along the Road
Dick’s spirits having risen in the course of these admissions of his sweetheart, he now touched Smart with the whip; and on Smart’s neck, not far behind his ears. Smart, who had been lost in thought for some time, never dreaming that Dick could reach so far with a whip which, on this particular journey, had never been extended further than his flank, tossed his head, and scampered along with exceeding briskness, which was very pleasant to the young couple behind him till, turning a bend in the road, they came instantly upon the farmer, farmer’s man, and farmer’s wife with the flapping mantle, all jogging on just the same as ever.
“Bother those people! Here we are upon them again.”
“Well, of course. They have as much right to the road as we.”
“Yes, but it is provoking to be overlooked so. I like a road all to myself. Look what a lumbering affair theirs is!” The wheels of the farmer’s cart, just at that moment, jogged into a depression running across the road, giving the cart a twist, whereupon all three nodded to the left, and on coming out of it all three nodded to the right, and went on jerking their backs in and out as usual. “We’ll pass them when the road gets wider.”
When an opportunity seemed to offer itself for carrying this intention into effect, they heard light flying wheels behind, and on their quartering there whizzed along past them a brand-new gig, so brightly polished that the spokes of the wheels sent forth a continual quivering light at one point in their circle, and all the panels glared like mirrors in Dick and Fancy’s eyes. The driver, and owner as it appeared, was really a handsome man; his companion was Shiner. Both turned round as they passed Dick and Fancy, and stared with bold admiration in her face till they were obliged to attend to the operation of passing the farmer. Dick glanced for an instant at Fancy while she was undergoing their scrutiny; then returned to his driving with rather a sad countenance.
“Why are you so silent?” she said, after a while, with real concern.
“Nothing.”
“Yes, it is, Dick. I couldn’t help those people passing.”
“I know that.”
“You look offended with me. What have I done?”
“I can’t tell without offending you.”
“Better out.”
“Well,” said Dick, who seemed longing to tell, even at the risk of offending her, “I was thinking how different you in love are from me in love. Whilst those men were staring, you dismissed me from your thoughts altogether, and —”
“You can’t offend me further now; tell all!”
“And showed upon your face a pleased sense of being attractive to ’em.”
“Don’t be silly, Dick! You know very well I didn’t.”
Dick shook his head sceptically, and smiled.
“Dick, I always believe flattery if possible — and it was possible then. Now there’s an open confession of weakness. But I showed no consciousness of it.”
Dick, perceiving by her look that she would adhere to her statement, charitably forbore saying anything that could make her prevaricate. The sight of Shiner, too, had recalled another branch of the subject to his mind; that which had been his greatest trouble till her company and words had obscured its probability.
“By the way, Fancy, do you know why our quire is to be dismissed?”
“No: except that it is Mr. Maybold’s wish for me to play the organ.”
“Do you know how it came to be his wish?”
“That I don’t.”
“Mr. Shiner, being churchwarden, has persuaded the vicar; who, however, was willing enough before. Shiner, I know, is crazy to see you playing every Sunday; I suppose he’ll turn over your music, for the organ will be close to his pew. But — I know you have never encouraged him?”
“Never once!” said Fancy emphatically, and with eyes full of earnest truth. “I don’t like him indeed, and I never heard of his doing this before! I have always felt that I should like to play in a church, but I never wished to turn you and your choir out; and I never even said that I could play till I was asked. You don’t think for a moment that I did, surely, do you?”
“I know you didn’t, dear.”
“Or that I care the least morsel of a bit for him?”
“I know you don’t.”
The distance between Budmouth and Mellstock was ten or eleven miles, and there being a good inn, ‘The Ship,’ four miles out of Budmouth, with a mast and cross-trees in front, Dick’s custom in driving thither was to divide the journey into three stages by resting at this inn going and coming, and not troubling the Budmouth stables at all, whenever his visit to the town was a mere call and deposit, as today.
Fancy was ushered into a little tea-room,
