Adam Bede HTML version

"I have not skill to write the words so small as you do and my pen moves slow.
And so I am straitened, and say but little of what is in my mind. Greet your
mother for me with a kiss. She asked me to kiss her twice when we parted."
Adam had refolded the letter, and was sitting meditatively with his head resting
on his arm at the head of the bed, when Seth came upstairs.
"Hast read the letter?" said Seth.
"Yes," said Adam. "I don't know what I should ha' thought of her and her letter if
I'd never seen her: I daresay I should ha' thought a preaching woman hateful. But
she's one as makes everything seem right she says and does, and I seemed to
see her and hear her speaking when I read the letter. It's wonderful how I
remember her looks and her voice. She'd make thee rare and happy, Seth; she's
just the woman for thee."
"It's no use thinking o' that," said Seth, despondingly. "She spoke so firm, and
she's not the woman to say one thing and mean another."
"Nay, but her feelings may grow different. A woman may get to love by degrees--
the best fire dosna flare up the soonest. I'd have thee go and see her by and by:
I'd make it convenient for thee to be away three or four days, and it 'ud be no
walk for thee--only between twenty and thirty mile."
"I should like to see her again, whether or no, if she wouldna be displeased with
me for going," said Seth.
"She'll be none displeased," said Adam emphatically, getting up and throwing off
his coat. "It might be a great happiness to us all if she'd have thee, for mother
took to her so wonderful and seemed so contented to be with her."
"Aye," said Seth, rather timidly, "and Dinah's fond o' Hetty too; she thinks a deal
about her."
Adam made no reply to that, and no other word but "good-night" passed between