Thomas Hardy: The Woodlanders

46. CHAPTER XLVI. (continued)

"It is rough upon me--that!" he said, bitterly. "Oh, Grace--I did not know you--tried to get rid of me! I suppose it is of no use, but I ask, cannot you hope to--find a little love in your heart for me again?"

"If I could I would oblige you; but I fear I cannot!" she replied, with illogical ruefulness. "And I don't see why you should mind my having had one lover besides yourself in my life, when you have had so many."

"But I can tell you honestly that I love you better than all of them put together, and that's what you will not tell me!"

"I am sorry; but I fear I cannot," she said, sighing again.

"I wonder if you ever will?" He looked musingly into her indistinct face, as if he would read the future there. "Now have pity, and tell me: will you try?"

"To love you again?"

"Yes; if you can."

"I don't know how to reply," she answered, her embarrassment proving her truth. "Will you promise to leave me quite free as to seeing you or not seeing you?"

"Certainly. Have I given any ground for you to doubt my first promise in that respect?"

She was obliged to admit that he had not.

"Then I think that you might get your heart out of that grave," said he, with playful sadness. "It has been there a long time."

She faintly shook her head, but said, "I'll try to think of you more--if I can."

With this Fitzpiers was compelled to be satisfied, and he asked her when she would meet him again.

"As we arranged--in a fortnight."