"To confess, then," murmured Izz, "I made sure to-day that he was
going to kiss me as he held me; and I lay still against his breast,
hoping and hoping, and never moved at all. But he did not. I don't
like biding here at Talbothays any longer! I shall go hwome."
The air of the sleeping-chamber seemed to palpitate with the
hopeless passion of the girls. They writhed feverishly under the
oppressiveness of an emotion thrust on them by cruel Nature's law--an
emotion which they had neither expected nor desired. The incident
of the day had fanned the flame that was burning the inside of their
hearts out, and the torture was almost more than they could endure.
The differences which distinguished them as individuals were
abstracted by this passion, and each was but portion of one organism
called sex.
There was so much frankness and so little jealousy
because there was no hope. Each one was a girl of fair common sense,
and she did not delude herself with any vain conceits, or deny her
love, or give herself airs, in the idea of outshining the others.
The full recognition of the futility of their infatuation, from a
social point of view; its purposeless beginning; its self-bounded
outlook; its lack of everything to justify its existence in the eye
of civilization (while lacking nothing in the eye of Nature); the one
fact that it did exist, ecstasizing them to a killing joy--all this
imparted to them a resignation, a dignity, which a practical and
sordid expectation of winning him as a husband would have destroyed.
They tossed and turned on their little beds, and the cheese-wring
dripped monotonously downstairs."B' you awake, Tess?" whispered one, half-an-hour later. It was Izz Huett's voice. Tess replied in the affirmative, whereupon also Retty and Marian
suddenly flung the bedclothes off them, and sighed-"So be we!"
"I wonder what she is like--the lady they say his family have looked
out for him!"
"I wonder," said Izz. "Some lady looked out for him?" gasped Tess, starting. "I have never
heard o' that!"
"O yes--'tis whispered; a young lady of his own rank, chosen by his
family; a Doctor of Divinity's daughter near his father's parish of
Emminster; he don't much care for her, they say. But he is sure to
marry her." They had heard so very little of this; yet it was enough to build up
wretched dolorous dreams upon, there in the shade of the night. They
pictured all the details of his being won round to consent, of the
wedding preparations, of the bride's happiness, of her dress and
veil, of her blissful home with him, when oblivion would have fallen
upon themselves as far as he and their love were concerned. Thus
they talked, and ached, and wept till sleep charmed their sorrow
away. After this disclosure Tess nourished no further foolish thought that
there lurked any grave and deliberate import in Clare's attentions
to her. It was a passing summer love of her face, for love's own
temporary sake--nothing more. And the thorny crown of this sad
conception was that she whom he really did prefer in a cursory way
to the rest, she who knew herself to be more impassioned in nature,
cleverer, more beautiful than they, was in the eyes of propriety far
less worthy of him than the homelier ones whom he ignored.