Fitzpiers having heard a voice or voices, was looking over his garden
gate--where he now looked more frequently than into his books--fancying
that Grace might be abroad with some friends. He was now irretrievably
committed in heart to Grace Melbury, though he was by no means sure
that she was so far committed to him. That the Idea had for once
completely fulfilled itself in the objective substance--which he had
hitherto deemed an impossibility--he was enchanted enough to fancy must
be the case at last. It was not Grace who had passed, however, but
several of the ordinary village girls in a group--some steadily
walking, some in a mood of wild gayety. He quietly asked his landlady,
who was also in the garden, what these girls were intending, and she
informed him that it being Old Midsummer Eve, they were about to
attempt some spell or enchantment which would afford them a glimpse of
their future partners for life. She declared it to be an ungodly
performance, and one which she for her part would never countenance;
saying which, she entered her house and retired to bed.

The young man lit a cigar and followed the bevy of maidens slowly up
the road. They had turned into the wood at an opening between
Melbury's and Marty South's; but Fitzpiers could easily track them by
their voices, low as they endeavored to keep their tones.

In the mean time other inhabitants of Little Hintock had become aware
of the nocturnal experiment about to be tried, and were also sauntering
stealthily after the frisky maidens. Miss Melbury had been informed by
Marty South during the day of the proposed peep into futurity, and,
being only a girl like the rest, she was sufficiently interested to
wish to see the issue. The moon was so bright and the night so calm
that she had no difficulty in persuading Mrs. Melbury to accompany her;
and thus, joined by Marty, these went onward in the same direction.