Angel, in fact, r ightly or wrongly（to adopt the safe phrase of evasiv e controversialists）, pr eferred ser mons in ston es to ser mons in church es and chapels on fine summer d ays.This morning, moreover, he had g one out to see if the damage to the hay by the flood was considerable or not.On his walk he observed the girls from a long distance, though they had been so occupied with their difficulties of passa ge as not to notice him.He knew that the wat er had risen at that spot, and that it would quite check their pr ogress.So he had hastened on, with a d im idea o f ho w he could help them—one of th em in particular.
The r osy-cheeked, br ight-eyed qua rtet looked so char ming in their light summer attire, clinging to the roadsid e bank like pigeons on a roof-slope, that he stopped a moment to regard them before co ming close.Their gauzy skirtshad brushed up from the grass innumerable flies and butte rflies which, unable to escape, remained caged in the transparent tissue as in an aviary.Angel's eye at last fell u pon Tess, the hindmost of the four; she, being full of suppr essed laughter at their dilemma, could not help meeting his glance radiantly.
He came beneath them in the water, which did not rise over his long boots; and stood looking at the entrapped flies and butterflies.
“Are you trying to g et to church?”he said to Mar ian, who was in front, including the next two in his remark, but avoiding Tess.
“Yes, sir; and'tis getting late; and my colour do come up so——
“I'll carry you through the pool—every Jill of you.”
The whole four flushed as if one heart beat through them.
“I think you can't, sir, ”said Marian.
“It is the on ly way for you to get past.Stand still.Nonsense—you are not too heavy！I'd carry you all four together, Now, Marian, attend, ”he continued, “and put your arms round my shoulders, so.Now！Hold on.That's well done.”
Marian h ad lowered h erseff upon h is ar m and sh oulder as d irected, an d Angel strode off with her, his slim figure, as viewed from behind, looking like the mere stem to the great nosegay suggested by hers.They disappeared round the cu rve of the ro ad, and only his sousing footsteps and the top r ibbon o f Marian's bonnet told w here they were.In a few minu tes h e reappear ed.Izz Huett was the next in order upon the bank.
“Here he co mes, ”she murmured, and they could hear that her lips wer e dry with emotion.“And I have to pu t my arms round his neck and look into his face as Marian did.”
“There's nothing in that, ”said Tess quickly.
“There's a tim e for every thing, ”co ntinued Izz, unheed ing.“A tim e to embrace, an d a t ime to refrain fro m e mbracing; the f irst is n ow going to b e mine.”
“Fie—it is Scripture, Izz！”
“Yes, ”said Izz, “I've always a'ear at church for pretty verses.”
Angel Cla re, to who m three-quarters of this perfor mance was a commonplace act of ki ndness, now approached lzz.She quie tly and dreamily lowered herself into his arms, and Angel methodically marched off with her.When he was heard retur ning for the third time Retty's throbbing hear t could be almost seen to shake her.He went up to the red-haired girl, and while he was seizing her he glanced at Tess.His lips could not have pronounced more plainly, “It will soon be you and I.”Her comprehension appeared in her face; she could not help it.There was an understanding between them.
Poor little Retty, thoug h by far the lightes t weight, was the most troublesome of Clare's burdens.Mar ian had been like a sack of meal, a d ead weight of p lumpness un der which h e had liter ally staggered.Izz had r idden sensibly and calmly.Retty was a bunch of hysterics.
However, he got throu gh with th e disquieted creature, deposited her, and returned.Tess could see over the hedge the distant three in a groud, standing as he had placed them on the nex t rising ground.It was now her turn.She w as embarrassed to discover that excitement at the proximity of Mr.Clare's breath and ey es, w hich she h ad con temned in her co mpanions, was intensif ied in herself; and as if fearful of betraying her secret she paltered with him at the last moment.
“I may be able to clim'along the bank perhaps—I can c lim'better than they.You must be so tired, Mr.Clare！”
“No, no, Tess, ”said he quickly.And almost before she was aware she was seated in his arms and resting against his shoulder.
“Three Leahs to get one Rachel, ”he whispered.
“They are b etter women than I, ”sh e replied, magnanimously sticking to her resolve.
“Not to me, ”said Angel.
He saw her grow warm at this; and they went some steps in silence.
“I hope I am not too heavy?”she said timidly.
“O no.You should lift Marian！Such a lump.You are like an undulating billow warmed by the sun.And all this fluff of muslin about you is the froth.”
“It is very pretty—if I seem like that to you.”
“Do you know that I have undergone three-quarters of this labour entirely for the sake of the fourth quarter?”
“No.”
“I did not expect such an event today.”
“Nor I……The water came up so sudden.”
That th e r ise in the water was what she unders tood him to r efer to, the state of her breath ing belied.Clar e st ood still an d inclined h is face toward s hers.
“O Tessy！”he exclaimed.
The girl's cheeks burned to the breeze, and she could not look into his eyes for her em otion.I t reminded Angel that h e was som ewhat unfair ly takin g advantage of an accidental position; and he went no further with it.No definite words of lov e had crossed their lips as y et, and suspension at this po int was desirable no w.However, he walked slowly, to make the remaind er of the distance as long as possible; bu t at last they came to the b end, and the res t of their progress was in full view of the other three.The dry land was reached, and he set her down.
Her friends were looking with round thoughtful eyes at her and him, and she could see that they had been talking of her.He hastily bade them farewell, and splashed back along the stretch of submerged road.
The fo ur moved on tog ether as befor e, till Marian broke th e silence by saying—
“No—in all truth; we have no chance against her！”She looked joylessly at Tess.
“What do you mean?”asked the latter.
“He likes'ee best—the very best！W e could see it as he broug ht'ee.He would have kissed'ee, if you had encouraged him to do it, ever so little.”
“No, no, ”said she.
The gaiety with which they had set out had so mehow vanished; and y et there was no enmity or malice between them.They were generous young souls; they had been reared in th e lonely country noo ks where fatalis m is a stron g sentiment, and they did not blame her.Such supplanting was to be.
Tess's heart ached.There was no concealing from herself the fact that she loved Angel Clar e, perhaps all the more passionately from knowing that th e others had also lost their hearts to him.There is contagion in this sentiment, especially am ong wo men.And y et th at same hungry heart of hers compassionated her frien ds.Tess's honest nature had fough t against this, buttoo feebly, and the natural result had followed.
“I will never stand in y our way, nor in th e way of either o f y ou！”sh e declared to Retty that night in the bedroo m（her tears runn ing down）, “I can't help this, my dear！I don't think marrying is in his mind at all; but if he were to ask me I should refuse him, as I should refuse any man.”
“Oh！would you?Why?”said wondering Retty.
“It cannot be！But I will be plain.Putting myself quite on one side, I don't think he will choose either of you.”
I have never expected it—thought of it！“moaned Retty.“But O！I wish I were dead！”
The poor child, torn by a feeling which she hardly understood, turned to the other two girls who came upstairs just then.
“We be friends with her again, ”she said to them.“She thinks no more of his choosing her than we do.”
So the reserve went off, and they were confiding and warm.
“I don't seem to care what I do now, ”said Marian, whose mood was tuned to its lowest bass.“I was going to marry a dairyman at Stickleford, who's asked me twice; but—my soul—I would put an end to myself rather'n be his wife now！Why don't ye speak, lzz?”
“To confess, then, ”murmured lzz, “I made sure today that he was going to kiss me as he held me; and I lay still against his breast, hoping and hoping, and never moved at all.But he did not.I don't like biding h ere at Talbothays any longer！I shall go home.”
The air of the sleepin g-chamber seemed to p alpitate with th e hopeles s passion of the gir ls.They writhed f everishly under th e oppr essiveness o f an emotion thru st on them by cruel Nature's law—an em otion which they had neither expected nor desired.The incident of the day had fanned the flame that was burning the inside of their hearts out, and the torture was almost more than they could endure.The differences which d istinguished them as ind ividuals were abs tracted by this passion, and each was b ut por tion o f one or ganism called ***.There was s o much frankness and so little je alousy because ther e was no hope.Each one was a girl of fair common sense, and she did not delude herself with any vain conceits, or deny her love, or give herself airs, in the ideaof outshining the others.The full recognition of the futility of their infatuation, from a social point of view; its purposeless beginning; its self-bounded outlook; its lack of e verything to justify its e xistence in the eye of c ivilization（while lacking nothing in the eye of Nature）; the one fact that it did exist, ecstasizing them to a killing joy; all this imparted to them a resignation, a dignity, which a practical and sordid ex pectation of winnin g h im as a husband would hav e destroyed.
They tossed and turned on their little beds, and the cheese-wring dripp ed monotonously downstairs.
“B'you awake, Tess?”whispered one, half-an-hour later.
It was Izz Huett's voice.
Tess replied in the affirmative, whereupon also Retty and Marian suddenly flung the bedclothes off them, and sighed—
“So be we！”
“I wonder what sh e is like—the lady they say his family have looked out for him！”
“I wonder, ”said lzz.
“Some lady looked out for him?”gasped Tess, staring.“I have never heard o'that！”
“O ye s—'tis whispored; a y oung lady of his o wn rank, chosen by his family; a Doctor of Divinity's daughter near his f ather's parish of Emmin ster; he don't much care for her, they say.But he is sure to marry her.”
They had h eard so ver y little of this; y et it was enough to bu ild u p wretched dolorous dreams upon, ther e in the shade of the n ight.They pictured all the details of his bein g won round to consent, of the wedding preparations, of the bride's happiness, of her d ress and veil, of her blissful home with h im, when oblivion would have fallen up on themselves as f ar as he and their love were concerned.Thus they talked, and ached, and wept till sleep charmed their sorrow away.
After this disclosure Tess nourished no further foolish thought that th ere lurked any grave and delibera te impo rt in Clar e's atten tions to her.It wa s a passing su mmer love of her face, f or lov e's own temporar y sake—nothing more.And the thorny crown of his sad conception was that she whom he reallydid pr efer in a cursory way to the rest, she w ho knew herself to be more impassioned in nature, cleverer, more beautiful than they, was in the eyes of propriety far less worthy of him than the homelier ones whom he ignored.
24
Amid the oozing fatness and warm ferments of the Var Vale, at aseason when the rush of juices co uld alm ost be heard below the h iss of fertilization, it was imp ossible that the most fancifu l lov e should not grow passionate.The ready bosom s existing there were im pregnated by their surroundings.
July passed over their heads, and the Thermidorean weather which came in its wake seemed an effort on the part of Na ture to match the state of h earts at Talbothays Dairy.The air of the place, so fresh in the spring and early summer, was stagnant and enervating now.Its heavy scents weighed up on them, and at mid-day the landscape seemed lying in a swoon.Ethiopic scorchings browned the upper slopes of th e pastures, but there was still brigh t green herbage here where the w atercourses purled.And as Clare w as oppressed by the outward heats, so was he burdened inwardly by waxing fervour of passion for the s oft and silent Tess.
The rains having passed the uplands were dry.The whe els of the dairyman's spring cart, as he sped home from market, licked up the pulverized surface of the highway, and were followed by white ribands of dust, as if they had set a thin powder-train on f ire.The cow s ju mped wildly over th e five-barred barton-gate, maddened b y the g ad-fly; Dairy man Crick k ept his shirt-sleeves permanently rolled up f rom Monday to Saturd ay：open windo ws had no effect in ven tilation withou t open doors, and in th e d airy-garden the blackbirds and thrushes crept about under the currant-bush es, rather in the manner of q uadrupeds than of winged creatures.The flies in the kitchen were lazy, teasing and familiar, crawling about in unwonted places, on the floor, into drawers, an d over the backs of th e milk maids'hands.Co nversations were concerning sunstroke; while, butter-******, and still more butter-keeping, was a despair.
They milked entirely in the meads for coolness and convenience, without driving in the cows.During the day the animals obsequiou sly followed th e shadow of the smallest tree as it moved round th e stem with the diurnal roll; and when the milkers came they could hardly stand still for the flies.
On one of these af ternoons four or five unmilked cows ch anced to stand apart from the gener al herd, behind the corner o f a hedge, among them being Dumpling and Old Pretty, who loved Tess's hands above those of any o ther maid.When she rose from her stool under a finished cow Angel Clare, who had been observing her for some tim e, asked her if s he would take the afor esaid creatures next.She silently assented, and with her stool at arm's length, and the pail against her knee, went round to where they stood.Soon the sound of Old Pretty's milk fizzing into the pail came through the hedge, and then Angel felt inclined to go round the corner also, to finish off a hard-y ielding milcher who had strayed there, he being now as capable of this as the dairyman himself.
All the men, and so me of the wo men, when milking, dug their foreheads into the cows and gazed into the pail.But a few—mainly the y ounger ones—rested their heads sideways.This was Tess Durbey field's habit, her tem ple pressing the milcher's flank, her ey es fixed on the far end of the meadow with the quiet of one lost in meditation.She was milking Old Pretty thus, and the sun chancin g to be on the milking-side it shone flat u pon h er pink-gow ned form and her white curtain-bonnet, and upon her profile, rendering it keen as acameo cut from the dun background of the cow.
She did not know that Clare had followed her round, and that he sat under his cow watching her.The stillness of her head and features was remarkable：she might have been in a trance, her eyes open, yet unseeing.Nothing in the picture moved but Old Pretty's tail and Tess's pink hands, the latter so gently as to be a rhythmic pulsation only, as if they were obeying a reflex stimulus, like a beating heart.
How very l ovable h er f ace was to him.Yet there was nothing ether eal about it; all was real v itality, real war mth, real incarnation.And it was in her mouth that this cu lminated.Ey es alm ost as deep and sp eaking he had seen before, and cheeks perhaps as fair; brows as arched, a chin and throat almost as shapely; her mouth he had seen nothing to equal on the face of the earth.To a young man with the least fire in him that little upward lift in the middle of her red top lip was distracting, infatuating, maddening.He had never before s een a woman's lip s and teeth which for ced upon h is mind w ith such persis tent iteration the old Elizabethan simile of roses fil led with snow.Perfect, he, as a lover, might have called them off-hand.But no—they were not perfect.And it was the tou ch of the im perfect up on the would be perfect that gav e the sweetness, because it was that which gave the humanity.
Clare had studied the cu rves of those lips so many tim es that he cou ld reproduce th em mentally with ease：and now, as they again confronted h im, clothed with colour and life, th ey sent an aura ove r his flesh, a breeze through his nerves, which wellnigh produced a qualm; and actually produced, by some mysterious physiological process, a prosaic sneeze.
She then b ecame conscious that h e was observing her; bu t she would n ot show it by any change of position, though the cur ious dr eam like fixity disappeared, and a close ey e might easily have d iscerned that the rosiness of her face deepened, and then faded till only a tinge of it was left.
The influence that had p assed into C lare like an excitation from the sky did no t die down.Resolutions, reticences, pru dences, fears, fell back lik e a defeated b attalion.He jum ped up fr om his seat, and, leaving his p ail to b e kicked over if the milcher had such a mind, went quickly towards the desire of his eyes, and, kneeling down beside her, clasped her in his arms.
Tess was taken co mpletely by surprise, and she y ielded to his em brace with unreflecting inevitableness.Having seen th at it was real ly her lover who had advanced, and no one else, h er lips parted, and she sank upon him in her momentary joy, with something very like an ecstatic cry.
He had been on th e po int of kissin g that to o tem pting mouth, bu t he checked himself, for tender conscience'sake.
“Forgive me, Tess dear！”he whispered.“I ought to have asked.I—did not know what I was doing.I do not mean it as a liberty, I am devoted to you, Tessy, dearest, in all sincerity！”
Old Pretty by this time h ad looked round, puzzled; and seeing two people crouching u nder h er wh ere, by immem orial custom, there sh ould h ave b een only one, lifted her hind leg crossly.
“She is angr y—she doesn't know what we mean—she'll kick over the milk！”exclaimed Tess, gently striving to free herse lf, her eyes concerned with the quadrup ed's actions, her hear t more d eeply concerned with h erself and Clare.
She slipped up fro m h er seat, and they stood together, h is ar m stil l encircling her.Tess's eyes, fixed on distance, began to fill.
“Why do you cry, my darling?”he said.
“O—I don't know！”She murmured.
As she saw and fe lt more c learly the position she was in she be came agitated and tried to withdraw.
“Well, I hav e betrayed my feeling, Tess, at las t, ”said he, w ith a cur ious sigh of desperation, sign ifying unco nsciously th at his hear t had outrun his judgment.“That I—love you dearly and truly I need not say.But I—it shall go no further now—it distresses you—I am as surpr ised as y ou are.You will not think I hav e presu med upon y our defenceless ness—been too quick an d unreflecting, will you?”
“N'I can't tell.”
He had allowed her to free herself; and in a minute or two the milking of each was resumed.Nobody had beheld the gravita tion of the two into one; and when the dairyman came round by that screened nook a few minutes later there was not a sign to reveal that the markedly sundered pair wer e more to eachother than mere acquaintance.Yet in the interv al since Crick's last view of them something had occurred which changed the pivot of the universe for their two natures; so mething which, had he known its quality, the dairyman would have despised, as a practical man; yet which was based upon a more stubborn and resistless tendency than a whole heap of so-called practicalities.A veil had been whisked aside; the tract of each one's outlook was to have a new horizon thenceforward—for a short time or for a long.
