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and looks earnestly at it； as if trying to guess what sort of bed it
would make for her young round limbs。
No； she has not courage to jump into that cold watery bed； and
if she had； they might find her—they might find out why she had
drowned herself。 There is but one thing left to her： she must go
away； go where they can’t find her。
After the first on…coming of her great dread； some weeks after
her betrothal to Adam； she had waited and waited； in the blind
vague hope that something would happen to set her free from her
terror； but she could wait no longer。 All the force of her nature had
been concentrated on the one effort of concealment； and she had
shrunk with irresistible dread from every course that could tend
towards a betrayal of her miserable secret。 Whenever the thought
of writing to Arthur had occurred to her； she had rejected it。 He
could do nothing for her that would shelter her from discovery and
scorn among the relatives and neighbours who once more made
all her world； now her airy dream had vanished。 Her imagination
no longer saw happiness with Arthur； for he could do nothing that
would satisfy or soothe her pride。 No； something else would
happen—something must happen—to set her free from this dread。
In young； childish； ignorant souls there is constantly this blind
trust in some unshapen chance： it is as hard to a boy or girl to
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believe that a great wretchedness will actually befall them as to
believe that they will die。
But now necessity was pressing hard upon her—now the time
of her marriage was close at hand—she could no longer rest in this
blind trust。 She must run away； she must hide herself where no
familiar eyes could detect her； and then the terror of wandering
out into the world； of which she knew nothing； made the
possibility of going to Arthur a thought which brought some
comfort with it。 She felt so helpless now； so unable to fashion the
future for herself； that the prospect of throwing herself on him had
a relief in it which was stronger than her pride。 As she sat by the
pool and shuddered at the dark cold water； the hope that he would
receive her tenderly—that he would care for her and think for
her—was like a sense of lulling warmth； that made her for the
moment indifferent to everything else； and she began now to think
of nothing but the scheme by which she should get away。
She had had a letter from Dinah lately； full of kind words about
the coming marriage； which she had heard of from Seth； and
when Hetty had read this letter aloud to her uncle； he had said； “I
wish Dinah ’ud come again now； for she’d be a comfort to your
aunt when you’re gone。 What do you think； my wench； o’ going to
see her as soon as you can be spared and persuading her to come
back wi’ you？ You might happen persuade her wi’ telling her as
her aunt wants her； for all she writes o’ not being able to come。”
Hetty had not liked the thought of going to Snowfield； and felt no
longing to see Dinah； so she only said； “It’s so far off； Uncle。” But
now she thought this proposed visit would serve as a pretext for
going away。 She would tell her aunt when she got home again that
she should like the change of going to Snowfield for a week or ten
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days。 And then； when she got to Stoniton； where nobody knew
her； she would ask for the coach that would take her on the way to
Windsor。 Arthur was at Windsor； and she would go to him。
As soon as Hetty had determined on this scheme； she rose from
the grassy bank of the pool； took up her basket； and went on her
way to Treddleston； for she must buy the wedding things she had
come out for； though she would never want them。 She must be
careful not to raise any suspicion that she was going to run away。
Mrs。 Poyser was quite agreeably surprised that Hetty wished to
go and see Dinah and try to bring her back to stay over the
wedding。 The sooner she went the better； since the weather was
pleasant now； and Adam； when he came in the evening； said； if
Hetty could set off to…morrow； he would make time to go with her
to Treddleston and see her safe into the Stoniton coach。
“I wish I could go with you and take care of you； Hetty；” he said；
the next morning； leaning in at the coach door； “but you won’t stay
much beyond a week—the time ’ull seem long。”
He was looking at her fondly； and his strong hand held hers in
its grasp。 Hetty felt a sense of protection in his presence—she was
used to it now： if she could have had the past undone and known
no other love than her quiet liking for Adam！ The tears rose as she
gave him the last look。
“God bless her for loving me；” said Adam； as he went on his
way to work again； with Gyp at his heels。
But Hetty’s tears were not for Adam—not for the anguish that
would come upon him when he found she was gone from him for
ever。 They were for the misery of her own lot； which took her away
from this brave tender man who offered up his whole life to her；
and threw her； a poor helpless suppliant； on the man who would
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think it a misfortune that she was obliged to cling to him。
At three o’clock that day； when Hetty was on the coach that was
to take her； they said； to Leicester—part of the long； long way to
Windsor—she felt dimly that she might be travelling all this weary
journey towards the beginning of new misery。
Yet Arthur was at Windsor； he would surely not be angry with
her。 If he did not mind about her as he used to do； he had
promised to be good to her。
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Book Fifth
George Eliot