Thomas Hardy

The Trumpet-Major Thomas Hardy

In the days of high-waisted and muslin-gowned women, when the vast amount ofsoldiering going on in the country was a cause of much trembling to the sex, there lived in avillage near the Wessex coast two ladies of good report, though unfortunately of limitedmeans. The elder was a Mrs. Martha Garland, a landscape-painter's widow, and the otherwas her only daughter Anne. Anne was fair, very fair, in a poetical sense; but in complexion she was of that particulartint between blonde and brunette which is inconveniently left without a name. Her eyeswere honest and inquiring, her mouth cleanly cut and yet not classical, the middle point ofher upper lip scarcely descending so far as it should have done by rights, so that at themerest pleasant thought, not to mention a smile, portions of two or three white teeth wereuncovered whether she would or not. Some people said that this was very attractive. Shewas graceful and slender, and, though but little above five feet in height, could draw herselfup to look tall. In her manner, in her comings and goings, in her 'I'll do this, ' or 'I'll do that, 'she combined dignity with sweetness as no other girl could do; and any impressionablestranger youths who passed by were led to yearn for a windfall of speech from her, and tosee at the same time that they would not get it. In short, beneath all that was charming andsimple in this young woman there lurked a real firmness, unperceived at first, as the speckof colour lurks unperceived in the heart of the palest parsley flower. She wore a white handkerchief to cover her white neck, and a cap on her head with a pinkribbon round it, tied in a bow at the front. She had a great variety of these cap-ribbons, theyoung men being fond of sending them to her as presents until they fell definitely in lovewith a special sweetheart elsewhere, when they left off doing so. Between the border ofher cap and her forehead were ranged a row of round brown curls, like swallows' nestsunder eave