After Bathsheba ran out, Troy had thrown himself on the bed and waited, miserable, for the morning. That day he had put together 27 pounds and had driven to Casterbridge for his appointment with Fanny, and had sat down to wait, not knowing that she was being put into her grave clothes at that very moment. After hours, he bitterly rode on the races before returning home.
The narration shifts from Bathsheba to Troy, moving backwards in time in order to fill in his reaction to Fanny’s death. The book once again underlines the earnestness of his feelings for Fanny that coexists with his petulant childishness.
In the morning, Troy rises and rides to Casterbridge, to the mason. He has no sense of economy or calculation: he wishes for something and wants it fulfilled like a child. So he tells the mason that he wants the best grave stone for 27 pounds, as soon as possible. The stonecutter shows him what he has in stock, and Troy writes out what he wants on the stone.
Again, like a child Troy has not learned to check his desires and work within a situation—quite unlike Gabriel, and even unlike Bathsheba at this point in the novel, who has lost pride but gained a more mature sense of the world.
After dark Troy leaves with a heavy basket and rides to Weatherbury churchyard. He brings a spade and lantern to the yard and begins to plant daisies, hyacinths, violets, and carnations around the tomb. He has no sense of absurdity about this romantic act. As he finishes, he feels a drop of rain, and decides to leave the finishing touches for the next day.
Troy’s romanticism again emphasizes the depth of his love for Fanny; nonetheless, he is quick to abandon his romantic act at the least sign of trouble, as here with the approaching rain.