As soon as he had walked in and perceived that Grace was not in the
room, he seemed to have a misgiving. Nothing less than her actual
presence could long keep him to the level of this impassioned
enterprise, and that lacking he appeared as one who wished to retrace
his steps.
He mechanically talked at what he considered a woodland matron's level
of thought till a rustling was heard on the stairs, and Grace came in.
Fitzpiers was for once as agitated as she. Over and above the genuine
emotion which she raised in his heart there hung the sense that he was
casting a die by impulse which he might not have thrown by judgment.
Mr. Melbury was not in the room. Having to attend to matters in the
yard, he had delayed putting on his afternoon coat and waistcoat till
the doctor's appearance, when, not wishing to be backward in receiving
him, he entered the parlor hastily buttoning up those garments.
Grace's fastidiousness was a little distressed that Fitzpiers should
see by this action the strain his visit was putting upon her father;
and to make matters worse for her just then, old Grammer seemed to have
a passion for incessantly pumping in the back kitchen, leaving the
doors open so that the banging and splashing were distinct above the
parlor conversation.
Whenever the chat over the tea sank into pleasant desultoriness Mr.
Melbury broke in with speeches of labored precision on very remote
topics, as if he feared to let Fitzpiers's mind dwell critically on the
subject nearest the hearts of all. In truth a constrained manner was
natural enough in Melbury just now, for the greatest interest of his
life was reaching its crisis. Could the real have been beheld instead
of the corporeal merely, the corner of the room in which he sat would
have been filled with a form typical of anxious suspense, large-eyed,
tight-lipped, awaiting the issue. That paternal hopes and fears so
intense should be bound up in the person of one child so peculiarly
circumstanced, and not have dispersed themselves over the larger field
of a whole family, involved dangerous risks to future happiness.
Fitzpiers did not stay more than an hour, but that time had apparently
advanced his sentiments towards Grace, once and for all, from a vaguely
liquescent to an organic shape. She would not have accompanied him to
the door in response to his whispered "Come!" if her mother had not
said in a matter-of-fact way, "Of course, Grace; go to the door with
Mr. Fitzpiers." Accordingly Grace went, both her parents remaining in
the room. When the young pair were in the great brick-floored hall the
lover took the girl's hand in his, drew it under his arm, and thus led
her on to the door, where he stealthily kissed her.