Thomas Hardy: The Woodlanders

18. CHAPTER XVIII. (continued)

"I beg pardon, Miss Melbury," he said. "I saw you from the window, and fancied you might imagine that I was not at home--if it is I you were coming for."

"I was coming to speak one word to you, nothing more," she replied. "And I can say it here."

"No, no. Please do come in. Well, then, if you will not come into the house, come as far as the porch."

Thus pressed she went on to the porch, and they stood together inside it, Fitzpiers closing her umbrella for her.

"I have merely a request or petition to make," she said. "My father's servant is ill--a woman you know--and her illness is serious."

"I am sorry to hear it. You wish me to come and see her at once?"

"No; I particularly wish you not to come."

"Oh, indeed."

"Yes; and she wishes the same. It would make her seriously worse if you were to come. It would almost kill her....My errand is of a peculiar and awkward nature. It is concerning a subject which weighs on her mind--that unfortunate arrangement she made with you, that you might have her body--after death."

"Oh! Grammer Oliver, the old woman with the fine head. Seriously ill, is she!"

"And SO disturbed by her rash compact! I have brought the money back--will you please return to her the agreement she signed?" Grace held out to him a couple of five-pound notes which she had kept ready tucked in her glove.

Without replying or considering the notes, Fitzpiers allowed his thoughts to follow his eyes, and dwell upon Grace's personality, and the sudden close relation in which he stood to her. The porch was narrow; the rain increased. It ran off the porch and dripped on the creepers, and from the creepers upon the edge of Grace's cloak and skirts.