among them. Some approached pure blanching; some had a bluish pallor; some worn by the oldercharacters (which had possibly lain by folded for many a year) inclined to a cadaverous tint, and to aGeorgian style.In addition to the distinction of a white frock, every woman and girl carried in her right hand a peeledwillow wand, and in her left a bunchofwhite flowers.The peeling oftheformer,and the selection of thelatter,hadbeenanoperationofpersonal care.There were a few middle-aged and even elderly women in the train, their silver-wiry hair and wrinkledfaces, scourged by time and trouble, having almost a grotesque,certainly a pathetic,appearance in such ajaunty situation. In a true view, perhaps, there was more to be gathered and told of each anxious andexperienced one,to whom theyears weredrawing nigh when she should say,"I haveno pleasure inthem,"than of her juvenile comrades.But let the elder bepassed over herefor those under whosebodicesthe life throbbed quick and warmThe young girls formed, indeed, the majority of the band, and their heads of luxuriant hair reflected in thesunshine every tone of gold, and black, and brown.Some had beautiful eyes, others a beautiful nose,others a beautiful mouth and figure: few, if any, had all. A difficulty of arranging their lips in this crudeexposuretopublic scrutiny,aninabilitytobalancetheirheads,andtodissociate self-consciousnessfromtheir features, was apparent in them, and showed that they were genuine country girls, unaccustomed tomany eyes.And as each and all of them were warmedwithout by the sun, soeach had a private littlesun for her soulto bask in; some dream, some affection, some hobby,at least some remote and distant hope which,though perhaps starving to nothing, still lived on, as hopes will. They were all cheerful, and many ofthem merry.They came round by The Pure Drop Inn, and were turning out of the high road to pass through a wicket-gateintothemeadows,whenoneof thewomen said--"The Load-a-Lord! Why, Tess Durbeyfield, if there isn't thy father riding hwome in a carriage!"A young member of the band turned her head at the exclamation. She was a fine and handsome girl--nothandsomer than some others,possibly--buther mobile peony mouth and large innocent eyes addedeloquence to colour and shape.She wore a red ribbon in her hair, and was the only one of the whitecompanywho could boast of such a pronounced adornment.As shelooked round Durbeyfield was seenmoving along the road in a chaisebelongingtoThePureDrop,driven by a frizzle-headed brawnydamselwith her gown-sleeves rolled above her elbows.This was the cheerful servant of that establishment, who,in her part of factotum,turned groom and ostler at times.Durbeyfield, leaning back,and withhis eyesclosed luxuriously,was waving his hand above his head, and singing in a slowrecitative--"T've-got-a-gr't-family-vault-at-Kingsbere--and knighted-forefathers-in-lead-coffins-there!"The clubbists tittered, except the girl called Tess-- in whom a slow heat seemed to rise at the sense thatherfatherwasmakinghimselffoolishintheireyes."He's tired, that's all," she said hastily,"and he has got a lift home, because our own horse has to resttoday.""Bless thy simplicity, Tess," said her companions."He's got his market-nitch. Haw-haw!"-6
- 6 - among them. Some approached pure blanching; some had a bluish pallor; some worn by the older characters (which had possibly lain by folded for many a year) inclined to a cadaverous tint, and to a Georgian style. In addition to the distinction of a white frock, every woman and girl carried in her right hand a peeled willow wand, and in her left a bunch of white flowers. The peeling of the former, and the selection of the latter, had been an operation of personal care. There were a few middle-aged and even elderly women in the train, their silver-wiry hair and wrinkled faces, scourged by time and trouble, having almost a grotesque, certainly a pathetic, appearance in such a jaunty situation. In a true view, perhaps, there was more to be gathered and told of each anxious and experienced one, to whom the years were drawing nigh when she should say, "I have no pleasure in them," than of her juvenile comrades. But let the elder be passed over here for those under whose bodices the life throbbed quick and warm. The young girls formed, indeed, the majority of the band, and their heads of luxuriant hair reflected in the sunshine every tone of gold, and black, and brown. Some had beautiful eyes, others a beautiful nose, others a beautiful mouth and figure: few, if any, had all. A difficulty of arranging their lips in this crude exposure to public scrutiny, an inability to balance their heads, and to dissociate self-consciousness from their features, was apparent in them, and showed that they were genuine country girls, unaccustomed to many eyes. And as each and all of them were warmed without by the sun, so each had a private little sun for her soul to bask in; some dream, some affection, some hobby, at least some remote and distant hope which, though perhaps starving to nothing, still lived on, as hopes will. They were all cheerful, and many of them merry. They came round by The Pure Drop Inn, and were turning out of the high road to pass through a wicketgate into the meadows, when one of the women said- "The Load-a-Lord! Why, Tess Durbeyfield, if there isn't thy father riding hwome in a carriage!" A young member of the band turned her head at the exclamation. She was a fine and handsome girl-not handsomer than some others, possibly-but her mobile peony mouth and large innocent eyes added eloquence to colour and shape. She wore a red ribbon in her hair, and was the only one of the white company who could boast of such a pronounced adornment. As she looked round Durbeyfield was seen moving along the road in a chaise belonging to The Pure Drop, driven by a frizzle-headed brawny damsel with her gown-sleeves rolled above her elbows. This was the cheerful servant of that establishment, who, in her part of factotum, turned groom and ostler at times. Durbeyfield, leaning back, and with his eyes closed luxuriously, was waving his hand above his head, and singing in a slow recitative- "I've-got-a-gr't-family-vault-at-Kingsbere-and knighted-forefathers-in-lead-coffins-there!" The clubbists tittered, except the girl called Tess- in whom a slow heat seemed to rise at the sense that her father was making himself foolish in their eyes. "He's tired, that's all," she said hastily, "and he has got a lift home, because our own horse has to rest today." "Bless thy simplicity, Tess," said her companions. "He's got his market-nitch. Haw-haw!
"Look here; I won't walk another inch with you, if you say any jokes about him!" Tess cried, and thecolour upon her cheeks spread over her face and neck.In a moment her eyes grewmoist, and her glancedrooped to the ground.Perceiving that they had really pained her they said no more, and order againprevailed. Tess's pride would not allow her to turn her head again, to learn what her father's meaning was,if hehad any,and thus shemoved on withthewholebodyto the enclosure wherethere was tobedancingonthegreen.Bythetimethespotwasreached shehasrecovered her equanimity,andtappedherneighbour with her wand and talked as usual.Tess Durbeyfield at this time of her life was a mere vessel of emotion untinctured by experience.Thedialect was on her tongue to some extent, despite the village school:the characteristic intonation of thatdialect for this district being the voicing approximately rendered by the syllable UR, probably as rich anutterance as any to be found in human speech. The pouted-up deep red mouth to which this syllable wasnative had hardly as yet settled into its definite shape,and her lower lip had a way ofthrusting the middleofhertoponeupward,whentheyclosedtogetherafteraword.Phases of her childhood lurked in her aspect still. As she walked along today, for all her bouncinghandsomewomanliness,youcould sometimesseehertwelfthyearinhercheeks,orherninth sparklingfrom her eyes; and even her fifth would flit over the curves of her mouth now and then.Yetfewknew,and still fewer considered this.Asmall minority,mainly strangers,would look longat herin casuallypassing by,and growmomentarilyfascinated by herfreshness,and wonder if theywould evensee her again: but to almost everybody she was a fine and picturesque country girl, and no more.Nothing was seen or heard further of Durbeyfield in his triumphal chariot under the conduct of theostleress,and the club having entered the allotted space, dancing began.As there were no men in thecompanythe girlsdanced at first with each other, but when the hour for the close of labour drew on,themasculine inhabitants of the village, together with other idlers and pedestrians, gathered round the spot,and appeared inclined to negotiate for a partner.Among these on-lookers were three young men of a superior class, carrying small knapsacks strapped totheir shoulders, and stout sticks in their hands.Their general likeness to each other, and their consecutiveages, would almost have suggested that they might be, what infact they were, brothers.The eldest worethe white tie,high waistcoat,and thin-brimmed hat of theregulation curate;the second was the normalundergraduate,the appearance of the third and youngest would hardly have been sufficient tocharacterize him; there was an uncribbed, uncabined aspect in his eyes and attire, implying that he hadhardly as yet found the entrance to his professional groove. That he was a desultory tentative student ofsomethingandeverythingmightonlyhavebeenpredictedofhim.These three brethren told casual acquaintance that they were spending their Whitsun holidays in awalkingtourthroughtheValeof Blackmoor,theircoursebeing southwesterlyfromthetownof Shastonon the north-east. dhThey leant over the gate by the highway, and inquired as to the meaning of the dance and the white-frocked maids.The two elder of the brothers were plainly not intending to linger more than a moment.but the spectacle of a bevy of girls dancing without male partners seemed to amuse the third, and makehim in no hurry to move on.He unstrapped hisknapsack,put it, withhis stick, on the hedge-bank, andopened thegate."What are you going to do, Angel?" asked the eldest..7
- 7 - "Look here; I won't walk another inch with you, if you say any jokes about him!" Tess cried, and the colour upon her cheeks spread over her face and neck. In a moment her eyes grew moist, and her glance drooped to the ground. Perceiving that they had really pained her they said no more, and order again prevailed. Tess's pride would not allow her to turn her head again, to learn what her father's meaning was, if he had any; and thus she moved on with the whole body to the enclosure where there was to be dancing on the green. By the time the spot was reached she has recovered her equanimity, and tapped her neighbour with her wand and talked as usual. Tess Durbeyfield at this time of her life was a mere vessel of emotion untinctured by experience. The dialect was on her tongue to some extent, despite the village school: the characteristic intonation of that dialect for this district being the voicing approximately rendered by the syllable UR, probably as rich an utterance as any to be found in human speech. The pouted-up deep red mouth to which this syllable was native had hardly as yet settled into its definite shape, and her lower lip had a way of thrusting the middle of her top one upward, when they closed together after a word. Phases of her childhood lurked in her aspect still. As she walked along today, for all her bouncing handsome womanliness, you could sometimes see her twelfth year in her cheeks, or her ninth sparkling from her eyes; and even her fifth would flit over the curves of her mouth now and then. Yet few knew, and still fewer considered this. A small minority, mainly strangers, would look long at her in casually passing by, and grow momentarily fascinated by her freshness, and wonder if they would ever see her again: but to almost everybody she was a fine and picturesque country girl, and no more. Nothing was seen or heard further of Durbeyfield in his triumphal chariot under the conduct of the ostleress, and the club having entered the allotted space, dancing began. As there were no men in the company the girls danced at first with each other, but when the hour for the close of labour drew on, the masculine inhabitants of the village, together with other idlers and pedestrians, gathered round the spot, and appeared inclined to negotiate for a partner. Among these on-lookers were three young men of a superior class, carrying small knapsacks strapped to their shoulders, and stout sticks in their hands. Their general likeness to each other, and their consecutive ages, would almost have suggested that they might be, what in fact they were, brothers. The eldest wore the white tie, high waistcoat, and thin-brimmed hat of the regulation curate; the second was the normal undergraduate; the appearance of the third and youngest would hardly have been sufficient to characterize him; there was an uncribbed, uncabined aspect in his eyes and attire, implying that he had hardly as yet found the entrance to his professional groove. That he was a desultory tentative student of something and everything might only have been predicted of him. These three brethren told casual acquaintance that they were spending their Whitsun holidays in a walking tour through the Vale of Blackmoor, their course being southwesterly from the town of Shaston on the north-east. dh They leant over the gate by the highway, and inquired as to the meaning of the dance and the whitefrocked maids. The two elder of the brothers were plainly not intending to linger more than a moment, but the spectacle of a bevy of girls dancing without male partners seemed to amuse the third, and make him in no hurry to move on. He unstrapped his knapsack, put it, with his stick, on the hedge-bank, and opened the gate. "What are you going to do, Angel?" asked the eldest
"I am inclined to go and have a fling with them. Why not all of us--just for a minute or two--it will notdetain us long?'"No--no; nonsense!" said the first."Dancing in public with a troop of country hoydens--suppose weshould be seen!Comealong,or it will bedark beforewegetto Stourcastle,and there's no placewe cansleep at nearer than that, besides, we must get through another chapter of A COUNTERBLAST TOAGNOSTICISMbeforeweturn in,nowIhavetaken thetroubletobringthebook.""All right--I'll overtake you and Cuthbert in five minutes; don't stop; I give my word that I will, Felix."The two elder reluctantly left him and walked on, taking their brother's knapsack to relieve him infollowing,andtheyoungestenteredthefield."This is a thousand pities," he said gallantly, to two or three of the girls nearest him, as soon as there wasa pause in the dance. "Where are your partners, my dears?""They've not left off work yet," answered one of the boldest. "They'll be here by and by, Till then, willyou be one, sir?""Certainly. But what's one among so many!""Better than none.'Tis melancholy work facing and footing it to one of your own sort, and no clipsingandcollingatall.Now,pickandchoose."""Ssh--don't be so for'ard!" said a shyer girl.The young man, thus invited, clanged them over, and attempted some discrimination; but, as the groupwere all so new to him, he could not very well exercise it. He took almost the first that came to hand,which was not the speaker, as she had expected, nor did it happen to be Tess Durbeyfield. Pedigree,ancestral skeletons, monumental record, the d'Urberville lineaments, did not help Tess in her life's battleas yet, even to the extent of attracting to her a dancing-partner over the heads of the commonest peasantrySomuchfor Norman blood unaided byVictorian lucre.The name of the eclipsing girl, whatever it was, has not been handed down; but she was envied by all asthe first who enjoyed the luxury of a masculine partner that evening.Yet such was theforce of examplethat the village young men, who had not hastened to enter the gate while no intruder was in the way, nowdropped inquickly,and soonthe couplesbecameleavened withrusticyouthtoamarked extent,till atlengththeplainestwomanintheclubwasnolongercompelledtofoot itonthemasculinesideofthefigure.The church clock struck, when suddenly the student said that he must leave--he had been forgettinghimself--he had to join his companions.As he fell out of the dance his eyes lighted on Tess Durbeyfieldwhose own large orbs wore, to tell the truth, the faintest aspect of reproach that he had not chosen her. He,too, was sorry then that, owing to her backwardness, he had not observed her, and with that in his mindhe left the pasture.On account of his long delay he started in a flying-run down the lane westward, and had soon passed thehollow and mounted thenext rise.He had not yet overtakenhis brothers, but he paused togetbreath, andlooked back.He could see the white figures of the girls in the green enclosure whirling about as they hadwhirled when he was among them.They seemed to have quiteforgotten him already-8
- 8 - "I am inclined to go and have a fling with them. Why not all of us-just for a minute or two-it will not detain us long?" "No-no; nonsense!" said the first. "Dancing in public with a troop of country hoydens-suppose we should be seen! Come along, or it will be dark before we get to Stourcastle, and there's no place we can sleep at nearer than that; besides, we must get through another chapter of A COUNTERBLAST TO AGNOSTICISM before we turn in, now I have taken the trouble to bring the book." "All right-I'll overtake you and Cuthbert in five minutes; don't stop; I give my word that I will, Felix." The two elder reluctantly left him and walked on, taking their brother's knapsack to relieve him in following, and the youngest entered the field. "This is a thousand pities," he said gallantly, to two or three of the girls nearest him, as soon as there was a pause in the dance. "Where are your partners, my dears?" "They've not left off work yet," answered one of the boldest. "They'll be here by and by. Till then, will you be one, sir?" "Certainly. But what's one among so many!" "Better than none. 'Tis melancholy work facing and footing it to one of your own sort, and no clipsing and colling at all. Now, pick and choose." "'Ssh-don't be so for'ard!" said a shyer girl. The young man, thus invited, clanged them over, and attempted some discrimination; but, as the group were all so new to him, he could not very well exercise it. He took almost the first that came to hand, which was not the speaker, as she had expected; nor did it happen to be Tess Durbeyfield. Pedigree, ancestral skeletons, monumental record, the d'Urberville lineaments, did not help Tess in her life's battle as yet, even to the extent of attracting to her a dancing-partner over the heads of the commonest peasantry. So much for Norman blood unaided by Victorian lucre. The name of the eclipsing girl, whatever it was, has not been handed down; but she was envied by all as the first who enjoyed the luxury of a masculine partner that evening. Yet such was the force of example that the village young men, who had not hastened to enter the gate while no intruder was in the way, now dropped in quickly, and soon the couples became leavened with rustic youth to a marked extent, till at length the plainest woman in the club was no longer compelled to foot it on the masculine side of the figure. The church clock struck, when suddenly the student said that he must leave-he had been forgetting himself- he had to join his companions. As he fell out of the dance his eyes lighted on Tess Durbeyfield, whose own large orbs wore, to tell the truth, the faintest aspect of reproach that he had not chosen her. He, too, was sorry then that, owing to her backwardness, he had not observed her; and with that in his mind he left the pasture. On account of his long delay he started in a flying-run down the lane westward, and had soon passed the hollow and mounted the next rise. He had not yet overtaken his brothers, but he paused to get breath, and looked back. He could see the white figures of the girls in the green enclosure whirling about as they had whirled when he was among them. They seemed to have quite forgotten him already
All of them, except, perhaps, one. This white shape stood apart by the hedge alone. From her position heknew it to be the pretty maiden with whom he had not danced. Trifling as the matter was, he yetinstinctively felt that she was hurt by his oversight. He wished that he had asked her, he wished that hehad inquired her name. She was so modest, so expressive, she had looked so soft in her thin white gownthat he felt he had acted stupidly.However, it could not be helped, and turning, and bending himself to a rapid walk, he dismissed thesubject from his mind.Chapter 3As for Tess Durbeyfield, she did not so easily dislodge the incident from her consideration. She had nospirit to dance again for a long time, though shemight have had plenty of partners; but ah!they did notspeak so nicely as the strange young man had done. It was not till the rays of the sun had absorbed theyoung stranger's retreating figure on the hill that she shook off her temporary sadness and answered herwould-bepartnerintheaffirmative.She remained with her comrades till dusk,and participated with a certain zest in the dancing,thoughbeing heart-whole as yet, she enjoyed treading a measure purely for its own sake; little divining when shesaw "the soft torments, the bitter sweets, the pleasing pains, and the agreeable distresses" of those girlswho had been wooed and won, what she herself was capable of in that kind. The struggles and wranglesof the lads for her hand in a jig were an amusement to her--no more; and when they became fierce sherebukedthem.She might have stayed even later, but the incident of her father's odd appearance and manner returnedupon the girl's mind to make her anxious, and wondering what had become of him she dropped awayfrom the dancers and bent her steps towards the end of the village at which the parental cottage layWhileyet many score yards off, other rhythmic sounds than those she had quitted became audible to her,sounds that she knew well--so well. They were a regular series of thumpings from the interior of thehouse,occasioned bytheviolentrockingofa cradleupon a stonefloor,towhich movement a femininevoice kept time by singing,in a vigorous gallopade, the favourite ditty of"The Spotted Cow"-.I saw her lie do'--own in yon'--der green gro'--ove;Come,love!'and I'lltell'youwhere!Thecradle-rockingand thesongwould ceasesimultaneouslyforamoment,andan explanation athighestvocal pitch would take the place of the melody"God bless thy diment eyes! And thy waxen cheeks! And thy cherry mouth! And thy Cubit's thighs! Andeverybito'thyblessedbody!"Afterthisinvocationtherockingandthesingingwouldrecommence,andthe"SpottedCow"proceedasbefore. So matters stood when Tess opened the door, and paused upon the mat within it surveying thescene.The interior, in spite of the melody, struck upon the girl's senses with an unspeakable dreariness.Fromthe holiday gaieties of the field--the white gowns, the nosegays, the willow-wands, the whirling-9
- 9 - All of them, except, perhaps, one. This white shape stood apart by the hedge alone. From her position he knew it to be the pretty maiden with whom he had not danced. Trifling as the matter was, he yet instinctively felt that she was hurt by his oversight. He wished that he had asked her; he wished that he had inquired her name. She was so modest, so expressive, she had looked so soft in her thin white gown that he felt he had acted stupidly. However, it could not be helped, and turning, and bending himself to a rapid walk, he dismissed the subject from his mind. Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter 3 As for Tess Durbeyfield, she did not so easily dislodge the incident from her consideration. She had no spirit to dance again for a long time, though she might have had plenty of partners; but ah! they did not speak so nicely as the strange young man had done. It was not till the rays of the sun had absorbed the young stranger's retreating figure on the hill that she shook off her temporary sadness and answered her would-be partner in the affirmative. She remained with her comrades till dusk, and participated with a certain zest in the dancing; though, being heart-whole as yet, she enjoyed treading a measure purely for its own sake; little divining when she saw "the soft torments, the bitter sweets, the pleasing pains, and the agreeable distresses" of those girls who had been wooed and won, what she herself was capable of in that kind. The struggles and wrangles of the lads for her hand in a jig were an amusement to her-no more; and when they became fierce she rebuked them. She might have stayed even later, but the incident of her father's odd appearance and manner returned upon the girl's mind to make her anxious, and wondering what had become of him she dropped away from the dancers and bent her steps towards the end of the village at which the parental cottage lay. While yet many score yards off, other rhythmic sounds than those she had quitted became audible to her; sounds that she knew well-so well. They were a regular series of thumpings from the interior of the house, occasioned by the violent rocking of a cradle upon a stone floor, to which movement a feminine voice kept time by singing, in a vigorous gallopade, the favourite ditty of "The Spotted Cow"- I saw her lie do'-own in yon'-der green gro'-ove; Come, love!' and I'll tell' you where!' The cradle-rocking and the song would cease simultaneously for a moment, and an explanation at highest vocal pitch would take the place of the melody. "God bless thy diment eyes! And thy waxen cheeks! And thy cherry mouth! And thy Cubit's thighs! And every bit o' thy blessed body!" After this invocation the rocking and the singing would recommence, and the "Spotted Cow" proceed as before. So matters stood when Tess opened the door, and paused upon the mat within it surveying the scene. The interior, in spite of the melody, struck upon the girl's senses with an unspeakable dreariness. From the holiday gaieties of the field-the white gowns, the nosegays, the willow-wands, the whirling
movements onthegreen,theflash of gentle sentimenttowards the stranger--totheyellow melancholyofthis one-candled spectacle, what a step! Besides the jar of contrast there came to her a chill self-reproachthat she had not returned sooner, to help her mother in these domesticities, instead of indulging herselfout-of-doors.There stood her mother amid the group of children, as Tess had left her, hanging over the Mondaywashing-tub,which had now, as always,lingered on tothe end of the week.Out of that tub had cometheday before--Tess felt it with a dreadful sting of remorse--the very white frock upon her back which shehad so carelessly greened about the skirt on the damping grass--which had been wrung up and ironed byhermother'sownhands.As usual, Mrs Durbeyfield was balanced on one foot beside the tub, the other being engaged in theaforesaid business of rocking her youngest child. The cradle-rockers had done hard duty for so manyyears, under the weight of so many children, on that flagstone floor, that they were worn nearly flat, inconsequence ofwhich ahuge jerk accompanied each swing of the cot,flinging thebabyfrom sideto sidelike a weaver's shuttle, as Mrs Durbeyfield, excited by her song, trod the rocker with all the spring thatwas left in heraftera longday's seething in the sudsNick-knock, nick-knock, went the cradle; the candle-flame stretched itself tall, and began jigging up anddown, the water dribbled from the matron's elbows, and the song galloped on to the end of the verse, MrsDurbeyfield regarding her daughter thewhile.Even now, whenburdened with a young family,JoanDurbeyfield was a passionate lover of tune. No ditty floated into Blackmoor Vale from the outer worldbut Tess'smothercaughtup its notation inaweek.There stillfaintly beamed from the woman'sfeatures something of thefreshness, and even the prettiness,ofheryouth,rendering itprobablethat thepersonal charmswhichTesscouldboastofwere inmainparther mother's gift, and therefore unknightly, unhistorical."'l rock the cradle for'ee, mother," said the daughter gently."Or Illtake off my best frock and help youwring up? I thought you had finished long ago."Her mother bore Tess no ill-will for leaving the housework to her single-handed efforts for so long,indeed, Joan seldom upbraided her thereon at any time, feeling but slightly the lack of Tess's assistancewhilst her instinctiveplan for relieving herself of herlabours lay in postponing them.Tonight, however.she was even in a blither mood than usual. There was a dreaminess, a pre-occupation, an exaltation, in thematernal look which thegirl could not understand."Well, I'm glad you've come," her mother said, as soon as the last note had passed out of her,"I want togo and fetch your father, but what's more'n that, I want to tell'ee what have happened. Y'll be fess enough,my poppet, when th'st know!" (Mrs Durbeyfield habitually spoke the dialect, her daughter, who hadpassed the Sixth Standard in the National School under a London-trained mistress, spoke two languages:thedialectat home,moreorless;ordinaryEnglishabroad andtopersonsofquality.)"Since I've been away?" Tess asked."Ay!""Had it anything to do with father's making such a mommet of himself in thik carriage this afternoon?Whydid'er?Ifelt inclined to sink into theground with shame!'-10-
- 10 - movements on the green, the flash of gentle sentiment towards the stranger-to the yellow melancholy of this one-candled spectacle, what a step! Besides the jar of contrast there came to her a chill self-reproach that she had not returned sooner, to help her mother in these domesticities, instead of indulging herself out-of-doors. There stood her mother amid the group of children, as Tess had left her, hanging over the Monday washing-tub, which had now, as always, lingered on to the end of the week. Out of that tub had come the day before-Tess felt it with a dreadful sting of remorse-the very white frock upon her back which she had so carelessly greened about the skirt on the damping grass-which had been wrung up and ironed by her mother's own hands. As usual, Mrs Durbeyfield was balanced on one foot beside the tub, the other being engaged in the aforesaid business of rocking her youngest child. The cradle-rockers had done hard duty for so many years, under the weight of so many children, on that flagstone floor, that they were worn nearly flat, in consequence of which a huge jerk accompanied each swing of the cot, flinging the baby from side to side like a weaver's shuttle, as Mrs Durbeyfield, excited by her song, trod the rocker with all the spring that was left in her after a long day's seething in the suds. Nick-knock, nick-knock, went the cradle; the candle-flame stretched itself tall, and began jigging up and down; the water dribbled from the matron's elbows, and the song galloped on to the end of the verse, Mrs Durbeyfield regarding her daughter the while. Even now, when burdened with a young family, Joan Durbeyfield was a passionate lover of tune. No ditty floated into Blackmoor Vale from the outer world but Tess's mother caught up its notation in a week. There still faintly beamed from the woman's features something of the freshness, and even the prettiness, of her youth; rendering it probable that the personal charms which Tess could boast of were in main part her mother's gift, and therefore unknightly, unhistorical. "I'll rock the cradle for 'ee, mother," said the daughter gently. "Or I'll take off my best frock and help you wring up? I thought you had finished long ago." Her mother bore Tess no ill-will for leaving the housework to her single-handed efforts for so long; indeed, Joan seldom upbraided her thereon at any time, feeling but slightly the lack of Tess's assistance whilst her instinctive plan for relieving herself of her labours lay in postponing them. Tonight, however, she was even in a blither mood than usual. There was a dreaminess, a pre-occupation, an exaltation, in the maternal look which the girl could not understand. "Well, I'm glad you've come," her mother said, as soon as the last note had passed out of her, "I want to go and fetch your father; but what's more'n that, I want to tell 'ee what have happened. Y'll be fess enough, my poppet, when th'st know!" (Mrs Durbeyfield habitually spoke the dialect; her daughter, who had passed the Sixth Standard in the National School under a London-trained mistress, spoke two languages: the dialect at home, more or less; ordinary English abroad and to persons of quality.) "Since I've been away?" Tess asked. "Ay!" "Had it anything to do with father's making such a mommet of himself in thik carriage this afternoon? Why did 'er? I felt inclined to sink into the ground with shame!