ia’s　expectations　of　Paris　had　been　the　opportunity　it　might　afford　her　of　indulgence　in　this　favourite　pastime。　　Unhappily；　that　expectation　was　now　extinct　within　her　for　ever。
  Whilst　she　abstractedly　watched　them　spinning　and　fluctuating　in　the　increasing　moonlight　she　suddenly　heard　her　name　whispered　by　a　voice　over　her　shoulder。　　Turning　in　surprise；　she　beheld　at　her　elbow　one　whose　presence　instantly　caused　her　to　flush　to　the　temples。
  It　was　Wildeve。　　Till　this　moment　he　had　not　met　her　eye　since　the　morning　of　his　marriage；　when　she　had　been　loitering　in　the　church；　and　had　startled　him　by　lifting　her　veil　and　ing　forward　to　sign　the　register　as　witness。　　Yet　why　the　sight　of　him　should　have　instigated　that　sudden　rush　of　blood　she　could　not　tell。
  Before　she　could　speak　he　whispered；　“Do　you　like　dancing　as　much　as　ever？”
  “I　think　I　do；”　she　replied　in　a　low　voice。
  “Will　you　dance　with　me？”
  “It　would　be　a　great　change　for　me；　but　will　it　not　seem　strange？”
  “What　strangeness　can　there　be　in　relations　dancing　together？”
  “Ah—yes；　relations。　　Perhaps　none。”
  “Still；　if　you　don’t　like　to　be　seen；　pull　down　your　veil；　though　there　is　not　much　risk　of　being　known　by　this　light。　　Lots　of　strangers　are　here。”
  She　did　as　he　suggested；　and　the　act　was　a　tacit　acknowledgment　that　she　accepted　his　offer。
  Wildeve　gave　her　his　arm　and　took　her　down　on　the　outside　of　the　ring　to　the　bottom　of　the　dance；　which　they　entered。　　In　two　minutes　more　they　were　involved　in　the　figure　and　began　working　their　way　upwards　to　the　top。　　Till　they　had　advanced　halfway　thither　Eustacia　wished　more　than　once　that　she　had　not　yielded　to　his　request；　from　the　middle　to　the　top　she　felt　that；　since　she　had　e　out　to　seek　pleasure；　she　was　only　doing　a　natural　thing　to　obtain　it。　　Fairly　launched　into　the　ceaseless　glides　and　whirls　which　their　new　position　as　top　couple　opened　up　to　them；　Eustacia’s　pulses　began　to　move　too　quickly　for　long　rumination　of　any　kind。
  Through　the　length　of　five…and…twenty　couples　they　threaded　their　giddy　way；　and　a　new　vitality　entered　her　form。　　The　pale　ray　of　evening　lent　a　fascination　to　the　experience。　　There　is　a　certain　degree　and　tone　of　light　which　tends　to　disturb　the　equilibrium　of　the　senses；　and　to　promote　dangerously　the　tenderer　moods；　added　to　movement；　it　drives　the　emotions　to　rankness；　the　reason　being　sleepy　and　unperceiving　in　inverse　proportion；　and　this　light　fell　now　upon　these　two　from　the　disc　of　the　moon。　　All　the　dancing　girls　felt　the　symptoms；　but　Eustacia　most　of　all。　　The　grass　under　their　feet　became　trodden　away；　and　the　hard；　beaten　surface　of　the　sod；　when　viewed　aslant　towards　the　moonlight；　shone　like　a　polished　table。　　The　air　became　quite　still；　the　flag　above　the　wagon　which　held　the　musicians　clung　to　the　pole；　and　the　players　appeared　only　in　outline　against　the　sky；　except　when　the　circular　mouths　of　the　trombone；　ophicleide；　and　French　horn　gleamed　out　like　huge　eyes　from　the　shade　of　their　figures。　　The　pretty　dresses　of　the　maids　lost　their　subtler　day　colours　and　showed　more　or　less　of　a　misty　white。　　Eustacia　floated　round　and　round　on　Wildeve’s　arm；　her　face　rapt　and　statuesque；　her　soul　had　passed　away　from　and　forgotten　her　features；　which　were　left　empty　and　quiescent；　as　they　always　are　when　feeling　goes　beyond　their　register。
  How　near　she　was　to　Wildeve！　it　was　terrible　to　think　of。　　She　could　feel　his　breathing；　and　he；　of　course；　could　feel　hers。　　How　badly　she　had　treated　him！　yet；　here　they　were　treading　one　measure。　　The　enchantment　of　the　dance　surprised　her。　　A　clear　line　of　difference　divided　like　a　tangible　fence　her　experience　within　this　maze　of　motion　from　her　experience　without　it。　　Her　beginning　to　dance　had　been　like　a　change　of　atmosphere；　outside；　she　had　been　steeped　in　arctic　frigidity　by　parison　with　the　tropical　sensations　here。　　She　had　entered　the　dance　from　the　troubled　hours　of　her　late　life　as　one　might　enter　a　brilliant　chamber　after　a　night　walk　in　a　wood。　　Wildeve　by　himself　would　have　been　merely　an　agitation；　Wildeve　added　to　the　dance；　and　the　moonlight；　and　the　secrecy；　began　to　be　a　delight。　　Whether　his　personality　supplied　the　greater　part　of　this　sweetly　pounded　feeling；　or　whether　the　dance　and　the　scene　weighed　the　more　therein；　was　a　nice　point　upon　which　Eustacia　herself　was　entirely　in　a　cloud。
  People　began　to　say　“Who　are　they？”　but　no　invidious　inquiries　were　made。　　Had　Eustacia　mingled　with　the　other　girls　in　their　ordinary　daily　walks　the　case　would　have　been　different：　here　she　was　not　inconvenienced　by　excessive　inspection；　for　all　were　wrought　to　their　brightest　grace　by　the　occasion。　　Like　the　planet　Mercury　surrounded　by　the　lustre　of　sunset；　her　permanent　brilliancy　passed　without　much　notice　in　the　temporary　glory　of　the　situation。
  As　for　Wildeve；　his　feelings　are　easy　to　guess。　　Obstacles　were　a　ripening　sun　to　his　love；　and　he　was　at　this　moment　in　a　delirium　of　exquisite　misery。　　To　clasp　as　his　for　five　minutes　what　was　another　man’s　through　all　the　rest　of　the　year　was　a　kind　of　thing　he　of　all　men　could　appreciate。　　He　had　long　since　begun　to　sigh　again　for　Eustacia；　indeed；　it　may　be　asserted　that　signing　the　marriage　register　with　Thomasin　was　the　natural　signal　to　his　heart　to　return　to　its　first　quarters；　and　that　the　extra　plication　of　Eustacia’s　marriage　was　the　one　addition　required　to　make　that　return　pulsory。
  Thus；　for　different　reasons；　what　was　to　the　rest　an　exhilarating　movement　was　to　these　two　a　riding　upon　the　whirlwind。　　The　dance　had　e　like　an　irresistible　attack　upon　whatever　sense　of　social　order　there　was　in　their　minds；　to　drive　them　back　into　old　paths　which　were　now　doubly　irregular。　　Through　three　dances　in　succession　they　spun　their　way；　and　then；　fatigued　with　the　incessant　motion；　Eustacia　turned　to　quit　the　circle　in　which　she　had　already　remained　too　long。　　Wildeve　led　her　to　a　grassy　mound　a　few　yards　distant；　where　she　sat　down；　her　partner　standing　beside　her。　　From　the　time　that　he　addressed　her　at　the　beginning　of　the　dance　till　now　they　had　not　exchanged　a　word。
  “The　dance　and　the　walking　have　tired　you？”　he　said　tenderly。
  “No；　not　greatly。”
  “It　is　strange　that　we　should　have　met　here　of　all　places；　after　missing　each　other　so　long。”
  “We　have　missed　because　we　tried　to　miss；　I　suppose。”
  “Yes。　But　you　began　that　proceeding—by　breaking　a　promise。”
  “It　is　scarcely　worth　while　to　talk　of　that　now。
  We　have　formed　other　ties　since　then—you　no　less　than　I。”
  “I　am　sorry　to　hear　that　your　husband　is　ill。”
  “He　is　not　ill—only　incapacitated。”
  “Yes—that　is　what　I　mean。　　I　sincerely　sympathize　with　you　in　your　trouble。　　Fate　has　treated　you　cruelly。”
  She　was　silent　awhile。　　“Have　you　heard　that　he　has　chosen　to　work　as　a　furze…cutter？”　she　said　in　a　low；　mournful　voice。
  “It　has　been　mentioned　to　me；”　answered　Wildeve　hesitatingly。
  “But　I　hardly　believed　it。”
  “It　is　true。　　What　do　you　think　of　me　as　a　furze…cutter’s　wife？”
  “I　think　the　same　as　ever　of　you；　Eustacia。　　Nothing　of　that　sort　can　degrade　you—you　ennoble　the　occupation　of　your　husband。”
  “I　wish　I　could　feel　it。”
  “Is　there　any　chance　of　Mr。　Yeobright　getting　better？”
  “He　thinks　so。　　I　doubt　it。”
  “I　was　quite　surprised　to　hear　that　he　had　taken　a　cottage。　　I　thought；　in　mon　with　other　people；　that　he　would　have　taken　you　off　to　a　home　in　Paris　immediately　after　you　had　married　him。　　‘What　a　gay；　bright　future　she　has　before　her！’　I　thought。　　He　will；　I　suppose；　return　there　with　you；　if　his　sight　gets　strong　again？”
  Observing　that　she　did　not　reply　he　regarded　her　more　closely。　　She　was　almost　weeping。　　Images　of　a　future　never　to　be　enjoyed；　the　revived　sense　of　her　bitter　disappointment；　the　picture　of　the　neighbour’s　suspended　ridicule　which　was　raised　by　Wildeve’s　words；　had　been　too　much　for　proud　Eustacia’s　equanimity。
  Wildeve　could　hardly　control　his　own　too　forward　feelings　when　he　saw　her　silent　perturbation。　　But　he　affected　not　to　notice　this；　and　she　soon　recovered　her　calmness。
  “You　do　not　intend　to　walk　home　by　yourself？”　he　asked。
  “O　yes；”　said　Eustacia。　　“What　could　hurt　me　on　this　heath；　who　have　nothing？”
  “By　diverging　a　little　I　can　make　my　way　home　the　same　as　yours。　　I　shall　be　glad　to　keep　you　pany　as　far　as　Throope　Corner。”　　Seeing　that　Eustacia　sat　on　in　hesitation　he　added；　“Perhaps　you　think　it　unwise　to　be　seen　in　the　same　road　with　me　after　the　events　of　last　summer？”
  “Indeed　I　think　no　such　thing；”　she　said　haughtily。　　“I　shall　accept　whose　pany　I　choose；　for　all　that　may　be　said　by　the　miserable　inhabitants　of　Egdon。”
  “Then　let　us　walk　on—if　you　are　ready。　　Our　nearest　way　is　towards　that　holly　bush　with　the　dark　shadow　that　you　see　down　there。”
  Eustacia　arose；　and　walked　beside　him　in　the　direction　signified；　brushing　her　way　over　the　damping　heath　and　fern；　and　followed　by　the　strains　of　the　merrymakers；　who　still　kept　up　the　dance。　　The　moon　had　now　waxed　bright　and　silvery；　but　the　heath　was　proof　against　such　illumination；　and　there　was　to　be　observed　the　striking　scene　of　a　dark；　rayless　tract　of　country　under　an　atmosphere　charged　from　its　zenith　to　its　extremities　w