"That wer all a part of the larry! We've been found to be the greatest gentlefolk in the whole county--reaching all back long before Oliver Grumble's time-to the days of the Pagan Turks--with monuments.and vaults, and crests, and "scutcheons, and the Lord knows what all. In Saint Charles's days we wasmade Knights o' the Royal Oak, our real name being d'Urberville! .. Don't that make your bosom plim?'Twas on this account that your father rode home in the vlee, not because he'd been drinking, as peoplesupposed.""T'm glad of that. Will it do us any good, mother?""O yes! Tis thoughted that great things may come o't. No doubt a mampus of volk of our own rank willbedown here in their carriages as soon as'tisknown.Yourfather learnt iton his wayhwome fromShaston, and he has been telling me thewhole pedigreeof the matter.""Where is father now?" asked Tess suddenly.Her mother gave irrelevant information by way of answer:"He called to see the doctor today in Shaston.It is not consumption at all, it seems. It is fat round his heart, 'a says.There, it is like this."JoanDurbeyfield, as she spoke, curved a sodden thumb and forefinger to the shape of the letter C, and used theotherforefingeras apointer,"At thepresentmoment'he says toyour father,'your heart is enclosed allround there, and all round there, this space is still open,' 'a says.'As soon as it do meet, so,"--MrsDurbeyfield closed her fingers into a circle complete--"off you will go like a shadder, Mr Durbeyfield,''asays.'You mid last ten years, you mid go off in ten months, or ten days.""Tess looked alarmed. Her father possibly to go behind the eternal cloud so soon, notwithstanding thissudden greatness!"But where IS father?" she asked again.Her mother put on a deprecating look."Now don't you be bursting out angry! The poor man--he felt sorafted after his uplifting by thepa'son's news--that hewent up to Rolliver's half an hour ago,Hedo wantto get up his strength for his journey tomorrow with that load of beehives, which must be delivered,family or no. He'll have to start shortly after twelve tonight, as the distance is so long.""Get up his strength!" said Tess impetuously, the tears welling to her eyes. "O my God! Go to a public-house to get up his strength! And you as well agreed as he, mother!"Her rebuke and her mood seemed to fill the whole room, and to impart a cowed look to the furniture, andcandle, and children playing about, and to her mother's face."No,' said the latter touchily,"I be not agreed. Ihave been waiting for'ee to bide and keep house whileIgofetchhim.""TIlgo.""O no, Tess. You see, it would be no use."Tess did not expostulate.She knew what her mother's objection meant. Mrs Durbeyfield's jacket andbonnet were already hanging slily upon a chair by her side, in readinessfor this contemplated jaunt, thereasonforwhichthematrondeploredmorethanitsnecessity.11-
- 11 - "That wer all a part of the larry! We've been found to be the greatest gentlefolk in the whole county- reaching all back long before Oliver Grumble's time-to the days of the Pagan Turks-with monuments, and vaults, and crests, and "scutcheons, and the Lord knows what all. In Saint Charles's days we was made Knights o' the Royal Oak, our real name being d'Urberville! . Don't that make your bosom plim? 'Twas on this account that your father rode home in the vlee; not because he'd been drinking, as people supposed." "I'm glad of that. Will it do us any good, mother?" "O yes! 'Tis thoughted that great things may come o't. No doubt a mampus of volk of our own rank will be down here in their carriages as soon as 'tis known. Your father learnt it on his way hwome from Shaston, and he has been telling me the whole pedigree of the matter." "Where is father now?" asked Tess suddenly. Her mother gave irrelevant information by way of answer: "He called to see the doctor today in Shaston. It is not consumption at all, it seems. It is fat round his heart, 'a says. There, it is like this." Joan Durbeyfield, as she spoke, curved a sodden thumb and forefinger to the shape of the letter C, and used the other forefinger as a pointer, "'At the present moment,' he says to your father, 'your heart is enclosed all round there, and all round there; this space is still open,' 'a says. 'As soon as it do meet, so,'"-Mrs Durbeyfield closed her fingers into a circle complete-"'off you will go like a shadder, Mr Durbeyfield,' 'a says. 'You mid last ten years; you mid go off in ten months, or ten days.'" Tess looked alarmed. Her father possibly to go behind the eternal cloud so soon, notwithstanding this sudden greatness! "But where IS father?" she asked again. Her mother put on a deprecating look. "Now don't you be bursting out angry! The poor man-he felt so rafted after his uplifting by the pa'son's news-that he went up to Rolliver's half an hour ago. He do want to get up his strength for his journey tomorrow with that load of beehives, which must be delivered, family or no. He'll have to start shortly after twelve tonight, as the distance is so long." "Get up his strength!" said Tess impetuously, the tears welling to her eyes. "O my God! Go to a publichouse to get up his strength! And you as well agreed as he, mother!" Her rebuke and her mood seemed to fill the whole room, and to impart a cowed look to the furniture, and candle, and children playing about, and to her mother's face. "No," said the latter touchily, "I be not agreed. I have been waiting for 'ee to bide and keep house while I go fetch him." "I'll go." "O no, Tess. You see, it would be no use." Tess did not expostulate. She knew what her mother's objection meant. Mrs Durbeyfield's jacket and bonnet were already hanging slily upon a chair by her side, in readiness for this contemplated jaunt, the reason for which the matron deplored more than its necessity
"And take the COMPLEAT FORTUNE-TELLER to the outhouse," Joan continued, rapidly wiping herhands, and donning thegarments.The COMPLEAT FORTUNE-TELLER was an old thick volume, which lay on a table at her elbow, soworn by pocketing that themargins had reached the edge of thetype.Tess took it up,and her motherstarted.This going to hunt up her shiftless husband at the inn was one of Mrs Durbeyfield's still extantenjoyments in the muck and muddle of rearing children. To discover him at Rollivers, to sit there for anhour or two by his side and dismiss all thought and care of the children during the interval, made herhappy.Asortof halo,an occidentalglow,cameoverlifethen.Troubles andotherrealitiestookonthemselvesameta-physical impalpability,sinkingtomerementalphenomenafor serenecontemplationand no longer stood as pressing concretions which chafed body and soul. The youngsters, notimmediately within sight, seemed rather bright and desirable appurtenances than otherwise; the incidentsof daily life were not without humorousness and jollity in their aspect there.Shefelt a little as she hadused to feel when she sat by her now wedded husband in the same spot during his wooing, shutting hereyes tohisdefects of character, and regardinghimonly in his ideal presentationas lover.Tess, being left alone with the younger children, wentfirst to the outhouse with thefortune-telling bookand stuffed it intothethatch.A curiousfetichisticfear of this grimy volume on the part of hermotherprevented her ever allowing it to stay in the house all night, and hither it was brought back whenever ithad been consulted.Between the mother,with her fast-perishing lumber of superstitions,folk-lore,dialect, and orally transmitted ballads, and the daughter,with her trained National teachings and Standardknowledge under an infinitely Revised Code, there was a gap of two hundred years as ordinarilyunderstood.When they were together the Jacobean and the Victorian ages were juxtaposed.Returning along the garden path Tess mused on what the mother could have wished to ascertain from thebook on this particular day.She guessed the recent ancestral discovery to bear upon it, but did not divinethat it solely concerned herself. Dismissing this, however, she busied herself with sprinkling the linendried during the daytime, in company with her nine-year-old brother Abraham, and her sister Eliza-Louisa of twelve and a half, call ""Liza-Lu," the youngest ones being put to bed. There was an interval offour years and more between Tess and the next of the family, the two who had filled the gap having diedin their infancy,and this lent her a deputy-maternal attitude when she was alone with her juniors. Next injuvenility to Abraham came two more girls, Hope and Modesty, then a boy of three, and then the baby,whohad justcompleted his firstyear.All these young souls were passengers in the Durbeyfield ship--entirely dependent on the judgement ofthe two Durbeyfield adults for their pleasures, their necessities, their health, even their existence. If theheads ofthe Durbeyfield household chose to sail into difficulty, disaster, starvation, disease, degradationdeath,thither were these half-dozen little captives under hatches compelled to sail with them--six helplesscreatures,who had neverbeen asked if theywished for life on any terms,much less if they wished for iton such hard conditions as were involved inbeing of theshiftless house of Durbeyfield.Somepeoplewould like to know whence the poet whose philosophyis in these days deemed as profound andtrustworthy as his song is breezy and pure, gets his authority for speaking of"Nature's holy plan."It grew later, and neither father nor mother reappeared. Tess looked out of the door, and took a mentaljourney through Marlott.The village was shutting its eyes. Candles and lamps were being put outeverywhere: she could inwardly behold the extinguisher and the extended hand.-12-
- 12 - "And take the COMPLEAT FORTUNE-TELLER to the outhouse," Joan continued, rapidly wiping her hands, and donning the garments. The COMPLEAT FORTUNE-TELLER was an old thick volume, which lay on a table at her elbow, so worn by pocketing that the margins had reached the edge of the type. Tess took it up, and her mother started. This going to hunt up her shiftless husband at the inn was one of Mrs Durbeyfield's still extant enjoyments in the muck and muddle of rearing children. To discover him at Rolliver's, to sit there for an hour or two by his side and dismiss all thought and care of the children during the interval, made her happy. A sort of halo, an occidental glow, came over life then. Troubles and other realities took on themselves a meta-physical impalpability, sinking to mere mental phenomena for serene contemplation, and no longer stood as pressing concretions which chafed body and soul. The youngsters, not immediately within sight, seemed rather bright and desirable appurtenances than otherwise; the incidents of daily life were not without humorousness and jollity in their aspect there. She felt a little as she had used to feel when she sat by her now wedded husband in the same spot during his wooing, shutting her eyes to his defects of character, and regarding him only in his ideal presentation as lover. Tess, being left alone with the younger children, went first to the outhouse with the fortune-telling book, and stuffed it into the thatch. A curious fetichistic fear of this grimy volume on the part of her mother prevented her ever allowing it to stay in the house all night, and hither it was brought back whenever it had been consulted. Between the mother, with her fast-perishing lumber of superstitions, folk-lore, dialect, and orally transmitted ballads, and the daughter, with her trained National teachings and Standard knowledge under an infinitely Revised Code, there was a gap of two hundred years as ordinarily understood. When they were together the Jacobean and the Victorian ages were juxtaposed. Returning along the garden path Tess mused on what the mother could have wished to ascertain from the book on this particular day. She guessed the recent ancestral discovery to bear upon it, but did not divine that it solely concerned herself. Dismissing this, however, she busied herself with sprinkling the linen dried during the daytime, in company with her nine-year-old brother Abraham, and her sister ElizaLouisa of twelve and a half, call "'Liza-Lu," the youngest ones being put to bed. There was an interval of four years and more between Tess and the next of the family, the two who had filled the gap having died in their infancy, and this lent her a deputy-maternal attitude when she was alone with her juniors. Next in juvenility to Abraham came two more girls, Hope and Modesty; then a boy of three, and then the baby, who had just completed his first year. All these young souls were passengers in the Durbeyfield ship-entirely dependent on the judgement of the two Durbeyfield adults for their pleasures, their necessities, their health, even their existence. If the heads of the Durbeyfield household chose to sail into difficulty, disaster, starvation, disease, degradation, death, thither were these half-dozen little captives under hatches compelled to sail with them-six helpless creatures, who had never been asked if they wished for life on any terms, much less if they wished for it on such hard conditions as were involved in being of the shiftless house of Durbeyfield. Some people would like to know whence the poet whose philosophy is in these days deemed as profound and trustworthy as his song is breezy and pure, gets his authority for speaking of "Nature's holy plan." It grew later, and neither father nor mother reappeared. Tess looked out of the door, and took a mental journey through Marlott. The village was shutting its eyes. Candles and lamps were being put out everywhere: she could inwardly behold the extinguisher and the extended hand
Her mother's fetching simplymeant onemoretofetch.Tessbegantoperceivethata man in indifferenthealth, who proposed to start on a journey before one in the morning, ought not to be at an inn at this latehour celebratinghis ancient blood."Abraham," she said to her little brother, "do you put on your hat--you bain't afraid?--and go up toRolliver's, and seewhathasgonewi'fatherandmother."The boy jumped promptly from his seat, and opened the door, and the night swallowed him up. Half anhour passed yetagain, neither man, woman, nor child returned.Abraham, likehis parents, seemed tohavebeen limedandcaughtbytheensnaringinn."I must go myself," she said.'Liza-Lu then went to bed, and Tess, locking them all in, started on her way up the dark and crooked laneor street not made for hasty progress; a street laid out before inches of land had value, and when onehanded clocks sufficiently subdivided theday.Chapter4Rolliver's inn, the single alehouse at this end of the long and broken village, could only boast of an off-licence; hence, as nobody could legally drink on the premises, the amount of overt accommodation forconsumers was strictly limited to a little board about six inches wide and two yards long, fixed to thegarden palings by pieces of wire, so as to form a ledge.On this board thirsty strangers deposited theircups as they stood in the road and drank, and threw the dregs on the dusty ground to the pattern ofPolynesia, and wished they could havea restful seat inside,Thus the strangers. But there were also local customers who felt the same wish; and where there's a willthere's a wayIn a large bedroom upstairs,the window of which was thickly curtained with a great woollen shawl latelydiscarded by the landlady Mrs Rolliver, were gathered on this evening nearly a dozen persons, all seekingbeatitude; all old inhabitants of the nearer end of Marlott, and frequenters of this retreat. Not only did thedistance to the The Pure Drop, the fully-licensed tavern at the further part of the dispersed village, renderits accommodation practically unavailable for dwellers at this end, but the far more serious question, thequality of the liquor, confirmed the prevalent opinion that it was better to drink with Rolliver in a cornerofthehousetopthanwiththeotherlandlord inawidehouse.A gaunt four-post bedstead which stood in the room afforded stting-space for several persons gatheredround three of its sides; a couple more men had elevated themselves on a chest of drawers; another restedon the oak-carved"cwoffer; two on the wash-stand; another on the stool; and thus all were,somehow,seated at their ease.The stage of mental comfort to which they had arrived at this hour was one whereintheir souls expanded beyond their skins,and spread their personalities warmly through the room.In thisprocess the chamber and its furnituregrew more andmore dignified and luxurious;the shawl hanging atthe windowtook upon itself therichness of tapestry,thebrass handles of the chest of drawers wereasgolden knockers; and the carved bedposts semed to have some kinship with the magnificent pillars ofSolomon's templeMrs Durbeyfield, having quickly walked hitherward after parting from Tess, opened the front doorcrossed the downstairs room, which was in deep gloom, and then unfastened the stair-door like one-13-
- 13 - Her mother's fetching simply meant one more to fetch. Tess began to perceive that a man in indifferent health, who proposed to start on a journey before one in the morning, ought not to be at an inn at this late hour celebrating his ancient blood. "Abraham," she said to her little brother, "do you put on your hat-you bain't afraid?-and go up to Rolliver's, and see what has gone wi' father and mother." The boy jumped promptly from his seat, and opened the door, and the night swallowed him up. Half an hour passed yet again; neither man, woman, nor child returned. Abraham, like his parents, seemed to have been limed and caught by the ensnaring inn. "I must go myself," she said. 'Liza-Lu then went to bed, and Tess, locking them all in, started on her way up the dark and crooked lane or street not made for hasty progress; a street laid out before inches of land had value, and when onehanded clocks sufficiently subdivided the day. Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter 4 Rolliver's inn, the single alehouse at this end of the long and broken village, could only boast of an offlicence; hence, as nobody could legally drink on the premises, the amount of overt accommodation for consumers was strictly limited to a little board about six inches wide and two yards long, fixed to the garden palings by pieces of wire, so as to form a ledge. On this board thirsty strangers deposited their cups as they stood in the road and drank, and threw the dregs on the dusty ground to the pattern of Polynesia, and wished they could have a restful seat inside. Thus the strangers. But there were also local customers who felt the same wish; and where there's a will there's a way. In a large bedroom upstairs, the window of which was thickly curtained with a great woollen shawl lately discarded by the landlady Mrs Rolliver, were gathered on this evening nearly a dozen persons, all seeking beatitude; all old inhabitants of the nearer end of Marlott, and frequenters of this retreat. Not only did the distance to the The Pure Drop, the fully-licensed tavern at the further part of the dispersed village, render its accommodation practically unavailable for dwellers at this end; but the far more serious question, the quality of the liquor, confirmed the prevalent opinion that it was better to drink with Rolliver in a corner of the housetop than with the other landlord in a wide house. A gaunt four-post bedstead which stood in the room afforded sitting-space for several persons gathered round three of its sides; a couple more men had elevated themselves on a chest of drawers; another rested on the oak-carved "cwoffer"; two on the wash-stand; another on the stool; and thus all were, somehow, seated at their ease. The stage of mental comfort to which they had arrived at this hour was one wherein their souls expanded beyond their skins, and spread their personalities warmly through the room. In this process the chamber and its furniture grew more and more dignified and luxurious; the shawl hanging at the window took upon itself the richness of tapestry; the brass handles of the chest of drawers were as golden knockers; and the carved bedposts seemed to have some kinship with the magnificent pillars of Solomon's temple. Mrs Durbeyfield, having quickly walked hitherward after parting from Tess, opened the front door, crossed the downstairs room, which was in deep gloom, and then unfastened the stair-door like one
whose fingersknewthetricks of the latches well.Her ascentof thecrooked staircasewasa sloweprocess, and her face, as it rose into the light above the last stair, encountered the gaze of all the partyassembled inthebedroom"---Being a few private friends I've asked in to keep up club-walking at my own expense," the landladyexclaimed at the sound of footsteps, as glibly as a child repeating the Catechism, while she peered overthe stairs. "Oh,'tis you, Mrs Durbeyfield--Lard--how you frightened me!--I thought it might be somegaffer sent by Gover'ment."MrsDurbeyfield was welcomed with glances and nods by the remainderof theconclave,and turnedtowhereher husband sat.Hewas humming absentlyto himself, in a low tone:"Ibe as good as somefolkshere and there! I've got a great family vault at Kingsbere- sub-Greenhill, and finer skillentons than anyman in Wessex!""'ve something to tell 'ee that's come into my head about that--a grand projick!" whispered his cheerfulwife."Here, John, don't 'ee see me?" She nudged him, while he, looking through her as through awindow-pane,wentonwithhisrecitative."Hush! Don't'ee sing so loud, my good man," said the landlady, "in case any member of the Gover'mentshould be passing, and take away my licends.""He's told 'ee what's happened to us, I suppose?" asked Mrs Durbeyfield."Yes--in a way. D'ye think there's any money hanging by it?""Ah, that's the secret," said Joan Durbeyfield sagely. "However, tis well to be kin to a coach, even if youdon't ride in 'en." She dropped her public voice, and continued in a low tone to her husband: "T've beenthinking since you brought the news that there's a great rich lady out by Trantridge, on the edge o' TheChase, ofthenameof d'Urberville.""Hey--what's that?"said Sir JohnShe repeated the information."That ladymust be our relation,"she said."And my projick is to send Tessto claim kin.""There IS a lady of the name, now you mention it," said Durbeyfield."Pa'son Tringham didn't think ofthat.But she's nothing beside we--a juniorbranch of us, no doubt, hailing long since King Norman'sday."While this question was being discussed neither of the pair noticed, in their preoccupation, that littleAbrahamhad crept intotheroom,andwas awaitinganopportunityof askingthemtoreturn."She is rich, and she'd be sure to takenotice o'themaid."continued Mrs Durbeyfield:"and 'twill beavery good thing. I don't see why two branches o' one family should not be on visiting terms.""Yes; and we'll all claim kin!" said Abraham brightly from under the bedstead. "And we'll all go and seeher when Tess has gone to live with her, and we'll ride in her coach and wear black clothes!""How do you come here, child? What nonsense be ye talking! Go away, and play on the stairs till fatherand motherbeready!.. Well, Tess oughttogotothis other member of ourfamily.She'd be sure to win- 14 -
- 14 - whose fingers knew the tricks of the latches well. Her ascent of the crooked staircase was a slower process, and her face, as it rose into the light above the last stair, encountered the gaze of all the party assembled in the bedroom. "-Being a few private friends I've asked in to keep up club-walking at my own expense," the landlady exclaimed at the sound of footsteps, as glibly as a child repeating the Catechism, while she peered over the stairs. "Oh, 'tis you, Mrs Durbeyfield-Lard-how you frightened me!-I thought it might be some gaffer sent by Gover'ment." Mrs Durbeyfield was welcomed with glances and nods by the remainder of the conclave, and turned to where her husband sat. He was humming absently to himself, in a low tone: "I be as good as some folks here and there! I've got a great family vault at Kingsbere- sub-Greenhill, and finer skillentons than any man in Wessex!" "I've something to tell 'ee that's come into my head about that-a grand projick!" whispered his cheerful wife. "Here, John, don't 'ee see me?" She nudged him, while he, looking through her as through a window-pane, went on with his recitative. "Hush! Don't 'ee sing so loud, my good man," said the landlady; "in case any member of the Gover'ment should be passing, and take away my licends." "He's told 'ee what's happened to us, I suppose?" asked Mrs Durbeyfield. "Yes-in a way. D'ye think there's any money hanging by it?" "Ah, that's the secret," said Joan Durbeyfield sagely. "However, 'tis well to be kin to a coach, even if you don't ride in 'en." She dropped her public voice, and continued in a low tone to her husband: "I've been thinking since you brought the news that there's a great rich lady out by Trantridge, on the edge o' The Chase, of the name of d'Urberville." "Hey-what's that?" said Sir John. She repeated the information. "That lady must be our relation," she said. "And my projick is to send Tess to claim kin." "There IS a lady of the name, now you mention it," said Durbeyfield. "Pa'son Tringham didn't think of that. But she's nothing beside we-a junior branch of us, no doubt, hailing long since King Norman's day." While this question was being discussed neither of the pair noticed, in their preoccupation, that little Abraham had crept into the room, and was awaiting an opportunity of asking them to return. "She is rich, and she'd be sure to take notice o' the maid," continued Mrs Durbeyfield; "and 'twill be a very good thing. I don't see why two branches o' one family should not be on visiting terms." "Yes; and we'll all claim kin!" said Abraham brightly from under the bedstead. "And we'll all go and see her when Tess has gone to live with her; and we'll ride in her coach and wear black clothes!" "How do you come here, child? What nonsense be ye talking! Go away, and play on the stairs till father and mother be ready! . Well, Tess ought to go to this other member of our family. She'd be sure to win
the lady--Tess would; and likely enough'twould lead to some noble gentleman marrying her. In short, Iknow it.""How?""I tried her fate in the FORTUNE-TELLER, and it brought out that very thing! ... You should ha' seenhow pretty she looked today, her skin is as sumple as a duchess's.""What says themaid herself togoing?""T've not asked her. She don't know there is any such lady-relation yet. But it would certainly put her inthe way of a grand marriage, and she won't say nay to going.""Tess is queer.""But she's tractable at bottom. Leave her to me."Though this conversation had been private, sufficient of its import reached the understandings of thosearound to suggest to them that the Durbeyfields had weightier concerns to talk of now than common folkshad, and that Tess, their pretty eldest daughter, had fine prospects in store."Tess is a fine figure o'fun, as I said to myself today when I zeed her vamping round parish with therest,' observed one of the elderly boozers in an undertone."But Joan Durbeyfield must mind that shedon't get green malt in floor." It was a local phrase which had a peculiar meaning,and there was no replyTheconversationbecame inclusive,and presently otherfootsteps wereheard crossing theroombelow"---Being a few private friends asked in tonight to keep up club-walking at my own expense" Thelandlady had rapidly re-used the formula she kept on hand for intruders before she recognized that thenewcomerwasTess.Even to her mother's gaze the girl's young features looked sadly out of place amid the alcoholic vapourswhich floated here as no unsuitablemedium forwrinkled middle-age, and hardlywas a reproachful flashfrom Tess's dark eyes needed to make her father and mother rise from their seats, hastily finish their aleand descend the stairs behind her, Mrs Rolliver's caution following their footsteps."No noise, please, if ye'll be so good, my dears, or I mid lose my licends, and be summons'd, and I don'tknow what all! Night t'ye!"They went home together,Tess holding one arm ofher father, and Mrs Durbeyfield the other.Hehad, intruth, drunk very lttle--not a fourth of the quantity which a systematic tippler could carry to church on aSunday afternoon without a hitch in his eastings of genuflections:but the weakness of Sir John'sconstitutionmademountains of his petty sins in thiskind.On reaching thefreshair hewas sufficientlyunsteadyto incline the rowof three at one moment as if they weremarchingto London, and at anotherasif they were marching to Bath--which produced a comical effect, frequent enough in families onnocturnal homegoings; and, like most comical effects, not quite so comic after all. The two womenvaliantly disguised theseforced excursions and countermarches as well as they could from Durbeyfieldtheircause, and from Abraham, andfrom themselves; and so they approached bydegreestheirown door,the head of the family bursting suddenly into his formerrefrain as he drewnear, as if tofortifyhis soul atsightofthesmallnessofhispresentresidence--15-
- 15 - the lady-Tess would; and likely enough 'twould lead to some noble gentleman marrying her. In short, I know it." "How?" "I tried her fate in the FORTUNE-TELLER, and it brought out that very thing! . You should ha' seen how pretty she looked today; her skin is as sumple as a duchess's." "What says the maid herself to going?" "I've not asked her. She don't know there is any such lady-relation yet. But it would certainly put her in the way of a grand marriage, and she won't say nay to going." "Tess is queer." "But she's tractable at bottom. Leave her to me." Though this conversation had been private, sufficient of its import reached the understandings of those around to suggest to them that the Durbeyfields had weightier concerns to talk of now than common folks had, and that Tess, their pretty eldest daughter, had fine prospects in store. "Tess is a fine figure o' fun, as I said to myself today when I zeed her vamping round parish with the rest," observed one of the elderly boozers in an undertone. "But Joan Durbeyfield must mind that she don't get green malt in floor." It was a local phrase which had a peculiar meaning, and there was no reply. The conversation became inclusive, and presently other footsteps were heard crossing the room below. "-Being a few private friends asked in tonight to keep up club-walking at my own expense." The landlady had rapidly re-used the formula she kept on hand for intruders before she recognized that the newcomer was Tess. Even to her mother's gaze the girl's young features looked sadly out of place amid the alcoholic vapours which floated here as no unsuitable medium for wrinkled middle-age; and hardly was a reproachful flash from Tess's dark eyes needed to make her father and mother rise from their seats, hastily finish their ale, and descend the stairs behind her, Mrs Rolliver's caution following their footsteps. "No noise, please, if ye'll be so good, my dears; or I mid lose my licends, and be summons'd, and I don't know what all! 'Night t'ye!" They went home together, Tess holding one arm of her father, and Mrs Durbeyfield the other. He had, in truth, drunk very little-not a fourth of the quantity which a systematic tippler could carry to church on a Sunday afternoon without a hitch in his eastings of genuflections; but the weakness of Sir John's constitution made mountains of his petty sins in this kind. On reaching the fresh air he was sufficiently unsteady to incline the row of three at one moment as if they were marching to London, and at another as if they were marching to Bath-which produced a comical effect, frequent enough in families on nocturnal homegoings; and, like most comical effects, not quite so comic after all. The two women valiantly disguised these forced excursions and countermarches as well as they could from Durbeyfield their cause, and from Abraham, and from themselves; and so they approached by degrees their own door, the head of the family bursting suddenly into his former refrain as he drew near, as if to fortify his soul at sight of the smallness of his present residence-