“Since this subject has been mentioned,” she said very emphatically, “I am glad of the opportunity of clearing up a mistake which is very common and very provoking. I didn’t definitely promise Mr. Boldwood anything. I have never cared for him. I respect him, and he has urged me to marry him. But I have given him no distinct answer. As soon as he returns I shall do so; and the answer will be that I cannot think of marrying him.”
“People are full of mistakes, seemingly.”
“They are.”
“The other day they said you were trifling with him, and you almost proved that you were not; lately they have said that you be not, and you straightway begin to show—”
“That I am, I suppose you mean.”
“Well, I hope they speak the truth.”
“They do, but wrongly applied. I don’t trifle with him; but then, I have nothing to do with him.”
Oak was unfortunately led on to speak of Boldwood’s rival in a wrong tone to her after all. “I wish you had never met that young Sergeant Troy, miss,” he sighed.
Bathsheba’s steps became faintly spasmodic. “Why?” she asked.
“He is not good enough for ’ee.”