“But the gown isn't right, Tess, ”said Clare.“It ought to be a low one for a set of brilliants like that.”
“Ought it?”said Tess.
“Yes, ”said he.
He suggested to her how to tuck in the upper edge of h er bodice, so as to make it roughly approximate to the cut for evening wear; an d when she had done this, and the pendant to the necklace hung isolated amid the whiteness of her throat, as it was designed to do, he stepped back to survey her.
“My heavens, ”said Clare, “how beautiful you are！”
As everybody knows, fine feathers make fine birds; a peasant girl but very moderately prepossessing to the c asual obser ver in her si mple con dition and attire, will bloom as an amazing beauty if clothed as a woman of fashion with the aids that Art can render; while the beauty of the midnight crush would often cut but a s orry figure if placed inside th e field-woman's wrapper upo n a monotonous acreage of turnips on a d ull day.He had nev er till now es timatad the artistic excellence of Tess's limbs and features.
“If you were only to appear in a ball-room！”he said.“But no—no, dearest; I think I love you best in the wingbonnet and cotton-frock—yes, better than in this, well as you support these dignities.”
Tess's sense of her striking appear ance had given her a flush of exq citement, which was yet not happiness.
“I'll take them off, ”she said, “in case Jonathan should see me.They are not fit for me, are they?They must be sold, I suppose?”
“Let th em stay a few minutes longer.Sell them?Never, I t w ould b e a breach of faith.”
Influenced by a second thought she readily obeyed.She had something to tell, and there might be h elp in these.She sat dow n with the jewels upon her; and they again indulged in conjectures as to wher e Jonathan could possibly be with their baggage.The ale they had poured out for his consu mption when he came had gone flat with long standing.
Shortly after this they began supper, which was already laid on a side-table.Ere th ey hid finish ed th ere was a jer k in the f ire-smoke, the rising ske in of which had bulged out into the room, as if some giant had laid his hand on the chimney-top for a moment.It had been caused by the opening of the outer door.A heavy step was now heard in the passage, and Angel went out.
“I couldn'make nobod y hear at all by knocking, ”apologized Jonath an Kail, for it was he at last; “and as't was raining out I opened the door.I've brought the things, sir.”
“I am very glad to see them.But you are very late.”
“Well, yes, sir.”
There was something subdued in Jonathan Kail's tone which had not been there in the day, and lines of concern were p loughed upo n his foreh ead in addition to the lines of years.He continued—
“We've all been gallied at the dairy at what might ha'been a most terrible affliction s ince y ou and y our Mis'ess—so to name her n ow—left us this a'ternoon.Perhaps you ha'nt forgot the cock's afternoon crow?”
“Dear me; what——”
“Well, so me say s it d o mane one thing, and so me an other; but what's happened is that poor little Retry Priddle hev tried to drown herself.”
“No！Really！Why, she bade us good-bye with the rest——”
“Yes.Well, sir, when you and your Mis'ess—so to name what she lawful is—when you two drove away, as I say, Retty and Marian put on their bonnets and went out; and as there is not much doing now, being New Year's Eve, and folks mops and broo ms from what's inside'em, nobody took m uch no tice.They went on to Lew-Ev erard, where they had summut to drink, and then on they vamped to Dree-armed Cross, and there they seemed to have parted, Retty striking across the watermeads as if for home, and Marian going on to the n ext village, where there's another public-house.Nothing more was zeed or heard o'Retty till th e wat erman, on h is way ho me, no ticed so mething by the G reat Pool; 'twas her bonnet and shawl packed up.In the water he fo und her.He and another man brought her home, thinking'a was dead; but she fetched round by degrees.”
Angel, suddenly recollecting that T ess was overhearing this gloomy tale, went to shu t the door b etween the passage and the an te-room to the inner parlour where she was; but his wife, flinging a shawl round her, had come to the outer ro om and was listen ing to the man's narrative, her ey es resting absently on the luggage and the drops of ram glistening upon it.
“And, more than this, there's Marian; she's been found dead drunk by the withy-bed—a girl who h ev never been known to touch anything before except shilling ale; though, to be sure, 'a was always a good tren cher-woman, as her face showed.It seems as if the maids had all gone out of their minds！”
“And Izz?”asked Tess.
“Izz is abou t the house as usual; b ut'a do say'a can guess how ithappened; and she seems to be very low in mind about it, poor maid, as well shemid be.And so you see, sir, as all this happened just when we was packing your few traps and y our Mis'ess's night-rail and dressing things into the cart, why, it belated me.”
“Yes.Well, Jonathan, will y ou get the trunks upstairs, and drink a cup of ale, and hasten back as soon as you can, in case you should be wanted?”
Tess had gone back to the inner parlour, and sat down by the fire, looking wistfully into it.She heard Jonathan Kail's heavy footsteps u p and down the stairs till he had done placing the luggage, and heard him express his thanks for the ale her husband took out to him, and for the gratuity he received.Jonathan's footsteps then died from the door, and his cart creaked away.
Angel slid f orward the massive o ak bar which secured the door, an d coming in to where she sat over th e hear th, pressed her cheeks between his hands fro m behind.H e expected her to ju mp up gaily and unp ack th etoilet-gear that she h ad been so anx ious about, b ut as she d id not rise he s at down with her in the firelight, the candles on the suppertable being too thin and glimmering to interfere with its glow.
“I am so sor ry you should have h eard this sad story about th e girls, ”he said.“Still, don't let it depress you.Retty was naturally morbid, you know.”
“Without the least c ause, ”said T ess.“While they who have cause to be, hide it, and pretend they are not.”
This incident had turned the scale for her.They were ****** and innocent girlson whom the unhappiness of unrequited love had fallen; they had deserved better at th e hands of Fate.She had d eserved worse—yet she was the chos en one.It was wicked of h er to take all with out p aying.She would pay to the uttermost farthing; she would tell, there and then.This final determination she came to when she looked into the fire, he holding her hand.
A steady glare from the now flameless embers painted the sides and back of the fir eplace with its colour, and the well-polished andirons, and the old brass tongs that would not meet.The underside of the mantel-shelf was flushed with the h igh-coloured light, and the legs of the table nearest the fire.Tess's face and n eck ref lected the sa me warmth, wh ich ea ch g em turn ed into an Aldebaran or a Sirius—a constellation of white, red, and green flashes, that interchanged their hues with her every pulsation.
“Do you remember what we said to each other this morning about telling our faults?”he asked abruptly, finding that she s till remained immovable.“We spoke lightly perhaps, and you may well have do ne so.But f or me it was no light promise.I want to make a confession to you, Love.”
This, fro m h im, so unex pectedly apposite, h ad th e ef fect upo n her of a Providential interposition.
“You have to confess something?”she said q uickly, and even wi th gladness and relief.
“You did not expect it?Ah—you thought too highly of me.Now listen.Put your head there, because I want you to forgive me, and not to be indignant with me for not telling you before, as perhaps I ought to have done.”
How strange it was！He seem ed to b e her double.She did no t speak, and Clare went on—
“I did not mention it b ecause I was afraid o f endangering my chance of you, darling, the great prize of my lif e—my Fellowship I call you.My brother's Fellowship was won at his colleg e, mine at Talbothays Dairy.Well, I would not risk it.I was g oing to tell you a month ago—at the time you agreed to be mine, but I could not; I thought it might frighten you away from me.I put it off; then I thought I would tell you yesterday, to give you a chance at least of escaping me.But I did not.And I did not this morning, when you proposed our confessing our faults on the landing—the sinner that I was！But I must, now I see you sitting there so solemnly.I wonder if you will forgive me?”
“O yes！I am sure that—”
“Well, I hope so.But wait a minute.You don't know.To begin at th e beginning.Though I imagine my poor father fears that I am one of the eternally lost for my doctrines, I am, of course, a believer in good morals, Tess, as much as you.I used to wish to be a teacher of men, and it was a great disappointment to me when I found I co uld not enter the Church.I admired spotlessness, even though I could lay no claim to it, and hated impurity, as I hope I do n ow.Whatever one may think of plenary inspiration, one must heartily subscribe to these words of Paul：‘Be thou an example—in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.'It is the o nly safeguard for us poor hu man beings.‘Integer vitae, 'says a Roman poet, who is strange company for St.Paul—
The man of upright life, from frailties free.
Stands not in need of Moorish spear or bow.
Well, a certain place is p aved with g ood intentions, and having felt all that so strongly, you will see what a terrible remorse it bred in me when, in the midst of my fine aims for other people, I myself fell.”
He then told her of that time of his life to which allusion has been made when, tossed abou t by d oubts an d d ifficulties in London, like a cork o n the waves, he plunged into eight-and-forty hours'dissipation with a stranger.
“Happily I awoke almo st immediatel y to a sense ofmy folly, ”hecontinued.”I would have no more to say to her, and I came home.I have never repeated the offence.But I felt I should like to treat y ou with perfect franknessand honour, and I could not do so without telling this.Do you forgive me?”
She pressed his hand tightly for an answer.
“Then we will dismiss it at once and for ever！—too painful as it is for the occasion—and talk of something lighter.”
“O, Angel—I am almost glad—because now y ou can forgive me！I hav e not made my confession.I have a confession, too—remember, I said so.”
“Ah, to be sure！Now then for it, wicked little one.”
“Perhaps, although you smile, it is as serious as yours, or more so.”
“It can hardly be more serious, dearest.”
“It cannot—O no, it can not！”She jumped up joyfully at the hope.“No, it cannot be more serious, certainly, ”she cried, “because'tis just the same！I will tell you now.”
She sat down again.
Their hands were still joined.The ashes under the grate were lit by the fire vertically, li ke a torr id waste.I magination might hav e b eheld a L ast Day luridness in this redco aled glow, which fell on his face and hand, and on he rs, peering into the loose hair about her b row, and firing delicate skin underneath.A large shadow of her sh ape rose upon the wall an d ceiling.She bent forward, at which each diam ond on her neck gave a sinister, wink like a toad's; and pressing h er forehead against, h is tem ple she entered on her story of her acquaintance with Ale c d'Urberville and i ts r esults, murmuring the wo rds without flinching, and with her eyelids drooping down.
