The Vicar, having been well wrapped up by his sister and daughter, departed also, with a last injunction from Miss Thornton to take care of himself.
Easier said than done, such a night as this.

A regular south-westerly gale, accompanied by a stinging, cutting rain, which made it almost impossible to look to windward.

Earth and sky seemed mixed together, and each twig and bough sent a separate plaint upon the gale, indignant at seeing their fresh-acquired honours torn from them and scattered before the blast.
The Vicar put his head down and sturdily walked against it.

It was well for him that he knew every inch of the road, for his knowledge was needed now.

There was no turn in the road after he had passed the church, but it took straight away over the high ground up to Hawker's farm on the woodlands.
Old Jewel, whom he was going to see, had been a hind of Hawker's for many years; but about a twelvemonth before the present time he had left his service, partly on account of increasing infirmity, and partly in consequence of a violent quarrel with Madge.