All the preceding afternoon and night heavy thunderstorms had hissed

down upon the meads, and washed some of the hay into the river; but

this morning the sun shone out all the more brilliantly for the

deluge, and the air was balmy and clear.

The crooked lane leading from their own parish to Mellstock ran along

the lowest levels in a portion of its length, and when the girls

reached the most depressed spot they found that the result of the

rain had been to flood the lane over-shoe to a distance of some fifty

yards. This would have been no serious hindrance on a week-day; they

would have clicked through it in their high patterns and boots quite

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unconcerned; but on this day of vanity, this Sun's-day, when flesh

went forth to coquet with flesh while hypocritically affecting

business with spiritual things; on this occasion for wearing their

white stockings and thin shoes, and their pink, white, and lilac

gowns, on which every mud spot would be visible, the pool was an

awkward impediment. They could hear the church-bell calling--as yet

nearly a mile off. "Who would have expected such a rise in the river in summer-time!"

said Marian, from the top of the roadside bank on which they had

climbed, and were maintaining a precarious footing in the hope of

creeping along its slope till they were past the pool.

"We can't get there anyhow, without walking right through it, or else

going round the Turnpike way; and that would make us so very late!"

said Retty, pausing hopelessly.

"And I do colour up so hot, walking into church late, and all the

people staring round," said Marian, "that I hardly cool down again

till we get into the That-it-may-please-Thees."

While they stood clinging to the bank they heard a splashing round

the bend of the road, and presently appeared Angel Clare, advancing

along the lane towards them through the water.

Four hearts gave a big throb simultaneously.

His aspect was probably as un-Sabbatarian a one as a dogmatic

parson's son often presented; his attire being his dairy clothes,

long wading boots, a cabbage-leaf inside his hat to keep his head

cool, with a thistle-spud to finish him off. "He's not going to

church," said Marian. "No--I wish he was!" murmured Tess.

Angel, in fact, rightly or wrongly (to adopt the safe phrase of

evasive controversialists), preferred sermons in stones to sermons in

churches and chapels on fine summer days. This morning, moreover,

he had gone out to see if the damage to the hay by the flood was

considerable or not. On his walk he observed the girls from a long

distance, though they had been so occupied with their difficulties of

passage as not to notice him. He knew that the water had risen at

that spot, and that it would quite check their progress. So he had

hastened on, with a dim idea of how he could help them--one of them

in particular.




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