“None, thank you,” replied Eustacia.

“He’s quite a youngster,” said the Saracen apologetically, “and you must excuse him.  He’s not one of the old set, but have jined us because t’other couldn’t come.”

“But he will take something?” persisted Yeobright.  “Try a glass of mead or elder-wine.”

“Yes, you had better try that,” said the Saracen.  “It will keep the cold out going home-along.”

Though Eustacia could not eat without uncovering her face she could drink easily enough beneath her disguise.  The elder-wine was accordingly accepted, and the glass vanished inside the ribbons.

At moments during this performance Eustacia was half in doubt about the security of her position; yet it had a fearful joy.  A series of attentions paid to her, and yet not to her but to some imaginary person, by the first man she had ever been inclined to adore, complicated her emotions indescribably.  She had loved him partly because he was exceptional in this scene, partly because she had determined to love him, chiefly because she was in desperate need of loving somebody after wearying of Wildeve.  Believing that she must love him in spite of herself, she had been influenced after the fashion of the second Lord Lyttleton and other persons, who have dreamed that they were to die on a certain day, and by stress of a morbid imagination have actually brought about that event.  Once let a maiden admit the possibility of her being stricken with love for some one at a certain hour and place, and the thing is as good as done.

Did anything at this moment suggest to Yeobright the sex of the creature whom that fantastic guise inclosed, how extended was her scope both in feeling and in making others feel, and how far her compass transcended that of her companions in the band?  When the disguised Queen of Love appeared before Aeneas a preternatural perfume accompanied her presence and betrayed her quality.  If such a mysterious emanation ever was projected by the emotions of an earthly woman upon their object, it must have signified Eustacia’s presence to Yeobright now.  He looked at her wistfully, then seemed to fall into a reverie, as if he were forgetting what he observed.  The momentary situation ended, he passed on, and Eustacia sipped her wine without knowing what she drank.  The man for whom she had predetermined to nourish a passion went into the small room, and across it to the further extremity.

The mummers, as has been stated, were seated on a bench, one end of which extended into the small apartment, or pantry, for want of space in the outer room.  Eustacia, partly from shyness, had chosen the midmost seat, which thus commanded a view of the interior of the pantry as well as the room containing the guests.  When Clym passed down the pantry her eyes followed him in the gloom which prevailed there.  At the remote end was a door which, just as he was about to open it for himself, was opened by somebody within; and light streamed forth.