“To think, now, that this was to be the end o't！”said Sir John.“And I with a family vault under that there chur ch of Kingsbere as big as Squire Jollard's ale-cellar, and my folk lying there in sixes and sevens, as genuine county bones and marrow as any recorded in history.And now to be sure what they fellers at Rolliver's and The Pure Drop will say to me！How they'll squint and glane, and say, ‘This is yer mighty match is it; this is yet getting back to the true level of yer forefathers in King Norman's time！I feel this is too much, Joan; I shall putan end to myself, title and all—I can bear it no longer……But she can make him keep her if he's married her?”
“Why, yes.But she won't, think o'doing that.”
“D'ye think he really have married her?—or is it like the first—”
Poor Tess, who had heard as far as this, could not bear to hear more.The perception that her word could be doubted even here, in her own parental house, set her mind against the spot as nothing else could have done.How unexpected were the attacks of destiny！And if h er father doubted her a little, would not neighbours and acqu aintance doub t h er much?O, she cou ld n ot live long at home！
A few days, accordingly, were all that she allowed herself here, at the end of which time she receiv ed a short note fro m Clare, informing her that he had gone to the North of England to loo k at a far m.In her craving for the lustre of her true position as his wife, and to hide from her parents the vast extent of the division between them, she made us e of this letter as her reason for again departing, leaving them under the impression that she was setting ou t to join him.Still further to screen her husban d from any imputation of unkindness to her, she took twenty-five of the fifty pounds Clare had given her, and handed the sum over to her mother, as if the wife of a man like Angel Clare could well afford it, say ing that it w as a s light return for the trouble and humiliation she had brough t, upon them in y ears pas t.With this assertion of h er dign ity sh e bade them farewell; and after that there were lively doings in the Durbeyfield household for some time on the str ength of Tess's bounty, her mother saying, and, indeed, believ ing, that the rupture which h ad ar isen between the y oung husband and wife had ad justed itself under their strong feeling that they could not live apart from each other.
39
It was three weeks after the marriage that Clare found him selfdescending the hill whichled to the well-known parsonage of his father.With his downward course th e tower of th e church ros e into the evening sky in a manner of inquiry as to why he had co me; an d no living person in th e twilighted town seemed to notice him, still less to expect him.He was arriving like a ghost, and the sound of his own footsteps w as almost an encumbrance to be got rid of.
The picture of life had changed for him.Before this time he h ad known it but specu latively; now he though t he knew it as a practical man; th ough perhaps h e did no t, even y et.Nevertheless hu manity stood before him no longer in th e pens ive s weetness of Italian ar t, b ut in the staring and ghastly attitudes of a Wiertz Museum, and with the leer of a study by Van Beers.
His conduct during these first weeks had been desu ltory bey onddeion.After mechanically attempting to pursue his agr icultural plans as though n othing unusual had hap pened, in th e manner r ecommended by th e great and wise men of all ages, he concluded that very few of those great and wise men had ever gone so far ou tside themselves as to test the feasibility of their counsel.“Th is is the ch ief thing：be not perturb ed, ”said the Pagan moralist.That was just Clare's own opin ion.But he was p erturbed.“Let no t your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid, ”said the Nazarene.Clare chimed in cordially; but his hear t was troubled all the same.How he would have liked to confron t those two great thin kers, and earnestly appeal to them as
fellow-man to fellow-men, and ask them to tell him their method！
His mood tr ansmuted itself into a d ogged indifference till at length he fancied h e was look ing on h is own ex istence with th e p assive interest o f an outsider.
He was embittered by the convictio n that all th is desolation had been brought about by the accident of her being a d'Urberville.When he found that Tess came of that exhausted ancient line, and was not of th e new tribes fr om below, as he had fondly dreamed, why had he not stoically abandoned her, in fidelity to h is principles?This was what he had got by apostasy, and his punishment was deserved.
Then he be came weary and anx ious, and h is anxiety in creased.H e wondered if he had treated her unfairly.He ate without kno wing that he ate, and drank without tasting.As the hours dropped past, as the motive of each act in the long series of bygone days presented itself to his view, he perceived how intimately the notion of having Tess as a dear possession was mixed up with all his schemes and words and ways.
In going hither and th ither he observ ed in th e outskirts of a s mall town a red-and-blue placard setting forth the great advantages of the Empire of Brazil as a field for the emigrating agr iculturist.Land was of fered th ere on exceptionally advantageous terms.Brazil somewhat attracted him as a new idea.Tess could eventually join him there, and perhaps in that country of contrastingscenes and notions and habits the conventions would not be so operative which made life with her seem impracticable to him h ere.In brief h e was stro ngly inclined to try Brazil, es pecially as the season fo r going thith er was just at hand.
With this view he was returning to Emminster to disclose his plan to h is parents, and to make the best explanation, he could make of arriving with out Tess, short of revea ling what had ac tually separated them.As he reache d the door the new m oon shone upon h is face, just as the old one had done in the small hours of that morning when he had carried his wife in his arms across the river to the graveyard of the monks; but his face was thinner now.
Clare had given his par ents no warning of his vis it, and his ar rival stirred the atmosphere of the V icarage as th e dive of the kingfisher stirs a quiet po ol.His fath er and mother were bo th in the draw ing-room, but neith er of his brothers was now at ho me.Angel en tered, and closed the door quietly behind him.
“But—where's your wi fe, d ear Angel?”c ried h is m other.“How you surprise us！”
“She is at her mother's—temporarily.I have come home rather in a hurry because I've decided to go to Brazil.”
“Brazil！Why they are all Roman Catholics there surely！”
“Are they?I hadn't thought of that.”
But even th e novelty and painfu lness of his going to a Pap istical lan d could not displace for long Mr.and Mrs.Clare's natural interest in their son's marriage.
“We had y our brief note three week s ago annou ncing that it had tak en place, ”said Mrs.Clare, “and your father sent y our godmother's gift to her, as you know.Of course it was best that none of us should be present, especially as you preferred to marry her fro m the dairy, and n ot at her home, wherever that may be.I t would hav e em barrassed y ou, and given us no pleasure.Y our brothers felt that very strongly.Now it is done we do not complain, particularly if she suits you for th e business y ou hav e chosen to fo llow ins tead of the ministry of the Gospel……Yet I wish I could have seen her first, Angel, or have known a little more about her.We sent her no present of our ow n, not knowingwhat would best give her pleasure, but you must suppose it only delayed.Angel, there is no irritation in my mind or your father's against you for this marriage; but we have thought it m uch better to reserve o ur liking for y our wife till w e could see her.And now you have not brought h er.It seems str ange.What has happened?”
He replied that it had been thought best by them that she should go to her parents'home for the present, whilst he came there.
“I don't mind telling y ou, dear mother, ”he said, “that I alway s meant to keep her away from this house till I should feel she could come with credit to you.But this idea of Brazil is qu ite a recent one.If I d o go it will be unadvisable for me to t ake her on this my first journey.She will remain at her mother's till I come back.”
“And I shall not see her before you start?”
He was afraid they would not.His original plan had been, as he had said, to ref rain fr om bringing her there f or so me little while—no t to wound their prejudices—feelings—in any way; and for other r easons he had adhered to it.He would have to visit home in the course of a year, if he went out at once; and it would be possible for them to see her before he started a second time—with her.
A hastily prepared sup per was br ought in, and Clar e made fur ther exposition o f his plans.His mother's disappo intment at no t seeing th e b ride still re mained with he r.Clare's lat e enthus iasm for T ess had infe cted her through her maternal sympathies, till she had almost fancied that a good thing could come out of Nazareth—a charming woman out of Talbothays Dairy.She watched her son as he ate.
“Cannot you describe her?I am sure she is very pretty, Angel.”
“Of that there can be no question！”he said, with a zest which covered its bitterness.
“And that she is pure and virtuous goes without question?”
“Pure and virtuous, of course, she is.”
“I can see her quite distinctly.You said the other day that she was fine in figure; roundly built; had deep red lips like Cupid's bow; dar k eyelashes and brows, an imm ense ro pe of hair like a ship's cable; and lar ge e yesviolety-bluey-blackish.”
“I did, mother.”
“I quite see her.And living in such seclusion she naturally had scarce ever seen any young man from the world without till she saw you.”
“Scarcely.”
“You were her first love?”
“Of course.”
“There are worse wives than these ******, rosy-mouthed, robust girls of the far m.Certainly I could hav e wished—well, since my son is to be an agriculturist, it is perhaps but proper that his wife should have been accustomed to an outdoor life.”
His father was less in quisitive; bu t w hen the t ime ca me for th e chap ter from the B ible which was alway s read befor e even ing p rayers, the Vicar observed to Mrs.Clare—
“I think, since Angel has come, that it will be more appropriate to read the thirty-first of Proverbs than the chapter which we should have had in the usual course of our reading?”
“Yes, certainly; ”said Mrs.Clare.“The words of King Lemuel”（she could cite chapter and verse as well as her husband）, “My dear son, y our father has decided to read us the chapter in Proverbs in praise of a virtuous wife.We shall not need to be reminded to apply the words to the absen t one.May Heaven shield her in all her ways！”
A lump rose in Clare's throat.The portable lectern was taken out from the corner and set in the middle of the fireplace, the two old servants came in, and Angel's father began to read at the tenth verse of the aforesaid chapter—
“‘Who can f ind a v irtuous woman?for her pr ice is far abov e rubies.She riseth while it is y et night, and g iveth meat to her household.She girdeth her loins w ith strength and streng theneth her ar ms.She p erceiveth th at h er merchandise is good; her candle goeth not out by night.She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.Her children arise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he p raiseth her.Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.'”
When prayers were over, his mother said—
“I could not help thinking how very aptly that chapter y our dear father read applied, in some of its par ticulars, to the wo man you have chosen.The perfect woman, you see, was a working wom an; not an id ler; not a fin e lady; but one who used her hands, and her head and her heart for the good of others.‘Her children arise up and call h er blessed; her h usband also, and he praiseth her.Many daughters h ave done v irtuously, but she excelleth them all.'Well, I wish I could have seen her, Angel.Since she is pure and chaste she would have been refined enough for me.”
Clare could bear this no longer.His eyes were full of tears, which seemed like drops o f molten lead.He bade a quick goo d-night to these sincere and ****** souls whom he loved so well; who knew neith er the world, the f lesh, nor th e d evil in their own hear ts; o nly as so mething vagu e and ex ternal to themselves.He went to his own chamber.
His m other followed h im, and tap ped at his d oor.Clare o pened it to discover her standing without, with anxious eyes.
“Angel, ”she asked, “is th ere something wrong that you go away so soon?I am quite sure you are not yourself.”
“I am not, quite, mother, ”said he.
“About her?Now, my son, I know it is that—I know it is about her！Have you quarrelled in these three weeks?”
“We have not ex actly quarrelled, ”he said.“But we have had a difference—”
“Angel—is she a young woman whose history will bear investigation?”
With a mother's instinct Mrs.Clare had pu t h er finger on the k ind o f trouble that would cause such a disquiet as seemed to agitate her son.
“She is spotless！”he replied; and felt that if it had sent him to eternal hell there and then he would have told that lie.
“Then never mind the rest.After all, there are few purer things in nature than an unsullied country maid.Any crudeness of manner wh ich may offend your more educated sense at first, will, I am sure, disappear under the influence of your companionship and tuition.”
Such terr ible sarcas m of blind magnanimity brou ght ho me to Clare the secondary perception that he had utterly wrecked his career by this m arriage, which had not been among his early thoughts after the disclosure.True, on his own account he cared very little about his career; but he had wished to make it at least a respectable one on account of his parents and brothers.And now as he looked into the candle its flame du mbly expressed to him th at it was made to shine on sensible people, and that it abhorred ligh ting the face of a dupe an d a failure.
When his agitation had cooled he would be at moments incensed with his poor wife for causing a situation in which he was obliged to practise deception on his paren ts.He al most talked to her in his anger, as if sh e had been in the room.And then her co oing voice, plaintive in expostulation, disturbed the darkness, th e velv et touch of her lips passed o ver his bro w, and he could distinguish in the air the warmth of her breath.
This night the woman of his belittling deprecations was thinking how great and good her husband was.But over them both there hung a deeper shade than the shade which Angel Clar e per ceived, namely, the shade of hisownlimitations.With all his attempted independence of judgment this advanced and well-meaning young man, a sam ple product of the last fiv e-and-twenty years, was yet the slave to custom and conventionality when surprised back into his early teachings.No prophet had told him, and he was not prophet enough to tell himself, that essentially this young wife of his was as deserving of the praise of King Lemuel as any other woman endowed with the same dislike of evil, her moral v alue having to be reekon ed not by achievement bu t by tenden cy.Moreover, the figure near at ha nd suffers on such occasions, because it sho ws up its sorrin ess without shade; while vague figur es afar of f are honoured, in that the ir d istance makes artis tic vir tues of their stains.In c onsidering what Tess was not, he overloo ked what she was, and forgot that the defective can be more than the entire.
40
At breakfast Brazil was the topic, and all endeavoured to take ahopeful view of Clar e's proposed experiment, ent with that coun try's soil, notwithstanding th e dis couraging reports of so me far m-labourers who had emigrated thither and returned home within the twelve months.After breakfastClare we nt into the little town t o wind up suc h trif ling matters as he was concerned with th ere, and to ge t from the local ba nk all the money he possessed.On his way back he encou ntered Miss Mercy Chant by the church, from whose walls she seemed to be a sort of emanation.She was ca rrying an armful of Bibles for her class, and such was her v iew of life that events which produced heartache in o thers wrought beatific s miles upon her—an enviable result, although, in th e opinion of Angel, it was obtain ed by a curiously unnatural sacrifice of humanity to mysticism.
She had lear nt that he w as about to leave Eng land, and obser ved what an excellent and promising scheme it seemed to be.
“Yes; it is a likely scheme enoug h in a commercial sense, no doubt, ”he replied.“But, my dear Mercy, it sn aps the con tinuity of existence.Perhaps a cloister would be preferable.”
“A cloister！O, Angel Clare！”
“Well?”
“Why, y ou wicked man, a cloister im plies a monk, and a monk Ro man Catholicism.”
“And Roman Catholicism sin, and sin damnation.Thou art in a par lous state, Angel Clare.”
“I glory in my Protestantism！”she said severely.
Then Glare, thrown by sheer misery into one of the dem oniacal moods in which a man does despite to h is true principles, called her close to h im, and fiendishly whispered in her ear the most heterodox ideas he could think of.His momentary laughter at the horror which appeared on her fair face ceased when it merged in pain and anxiety for his welfare.
“Dear Mercy, ”he said, “you must forgive me.I think I am going crazy！”
She thought that he w as; and thu s the interv iew ended, and Clar e re-entered th e V icarage.With the local bank er he deposited the jewe ls till happier days should arise.He also paid into th e bank thirty pounds—to be sent to Tess in a few months, as she might require; and wrote to her at her parents'home in Blackmoor Vale to inform her of what he had done.This amount, with the su m he had alr eady placed in h er hands—about fif ty pounds—he hop ed would be am ply sufficient for her wants just at present, p articularly as in an emergency she had been directed to apply to his father.
He deemed it best not to put his parents into co mmunication with her b y informing them of her address; and, being u naware of what had r eally happened to estrange the two, neither his father nor his mother suggested that he should d o so.During the day he lef t the p arsonage, for what he had to complete he wished to get done quickly.
As the last duty before leaving this part of England it was necessary for him to call at th e Wellbridge farm-house, in wh ich he had sp ent with Tess the first three days of their marriage, the trifle of rent hav ing to be paid, the key given up of the roo ms they had o ccupied, and two or thr ee s mall ar ticles fetched away that they had lef t behind.It was un der this roo f that the deepest shadow ever thrown upo n his life h ad stretched its gloom over him.Yet when he had unlocked the door of the sitting-room and looked into it, the memory which return ed first upo n him was that of th eir happy arrival on a similar afternoon, the first fresh sense of sharing a habitation conjointly, the first meal together, the chatting by the fire wit joined hands.
The farmer and his wife were in the fields at the moment of his visit, and Clare was in the rooms alone for some time.Inwardly swollen with a renewal of sentiments that he had not quite reckoned with, he went upstairs to h er chamber, which h ad never been his.The bed was smooth as she had made it with her own hands on the morning of leaving.The mistletoe hung u nder the tester just as he had pla ced it.Hav ing been th ere three or fou r weeks it w as turning colour, and the leaves and berries wer e wrinkled.Angel took it do wn and crushed it into the grate.S tanding there he for the firs t time doubted whether his course in th is conjuncture had been a wise, m uch less a gener ous one.But h ad he not been cruelly blinded?In the incoher ent multitude of his emotions he knelt down at the bedside wet-eyed.“O Tess！If you had only told me sooner, I would have forgiven you！”he mourned.
Hearing a footstep below he ros e and went to the top of the stairs.At th e bottom of the flight he s aw a woman standing, and on her tur ning up her face recognised the pale, dark-eyed Izz Huett.
“Mr.Glare, ”she s aid, “I've called to see y ou a nd Mrs.C lare, a nd to inquire if ye be well I thought you might be back here again.”
This was a girl whose secret he h ad guessed, but who had not yet guessed his; an hon est gir l who loved him—one who wo uld hav e made as go od, or nearly as good, a practical farmer's wife as Tess.
“I am here alone, ”he said; “we are n ot living here now.”Explaining why he had come, he asked, “Which way are you going home, Izz?”
“I have no home at Talbothays Dairy now, sir, ”she said.
“Why is that?”
Izz looked down.
“It was so dismal there that I left！I am staying out this way.”She pointed in a contrary direction, the direction in which he was journeying.
“Well—are you going there now?I can take you if you wish for a lift.”
Her olive complexion grew richer in hue.
“Thank'ee, Mr.Clare, ”she said.
He soon found the farmer, and settled the account for his rent and the few other items which had to be consider ed by reason of the sudden abandonment of the lodg ings.On Clare's return to his horse and gig Izz jum ped up b eside him.
“I am go ing to leave England, Izz, ”he said, as they drove on.“Going to Brazil.”
“And do Mrs.Clare like the notion of such a journey?”she asked.
“She is not going at pr esent—say fo r a y ear or so.I am going out to reconnoitre—to see what life there is like.”
They sped along eas tward for so me considerable distance, Izz ****** no observation.
“How are the others?”he inquired.“How is Retty?”
“She was in a sort of nervous state when I zid her last; and so thin an d hollow-cheeked that'a do seem in a decline.Nobody will ever fall in love wi'her any more, ”said Izz absently.
“And Marian?”
Izz lowered her voice.
