It all turned on that release. What had given her strength to refuse

him this time was solely the tale of the widow told by the dairyman;

and that would have been overcome in another moment. But Angel said

no more; his face was perplexed; he went away.

Day after day they met--somewhat less constantly than before; and

thus two or three weeks went by. The end of September drew near, and

she could see in his eye that he might ask her again.

His plan of procedure was different now--as though he had made up

his mind that her negatives were, after all, only coyness and youth

startled by the novelty of the proposal. The fitful evasiveness of

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her manner when the subject was under discussion countenanced the

idea. So he played a more coaxing game; and while never going beyond

words, or attempting the renewal of caresses, he did his utmost

orally. In this way Clare persistently wooed her in undertones like that of

the purling milk--at the cow's side, at skimmings, at butter-makings,

at cheese-makings, among broody poultry, and among farrowing pigs--as

no milkmaid was ever wooed before by such a man.

Tess knew that she must break down. Neither a religious sense of a

certain moral validity in the previous union nor a conscientious wish

for candour could hold out against it much longer. She loved him so

passionately, and he was so godlike in her eyes; and being, though

untrained, instinctively refined, her nature cried for his tutelary

guidance. And thus, though Tess kept repeating to herself, "I can

never be his wife," the words were vain. A proof of her weakness lay

in the very utterance of what calm strength would not have taken the

trouble to formulate. Every sound of his voice beginning on the old

subject stirred her with a terrifying bliss, and she coveted the

recantation she feared.

His manner was--what man's is not?--so much that of one who would

love and cherish and defend her under any conditions, changes,

charges, or revelations, that her gloom lessened as she basked in it.

The season meanwhile was drawing onward to the equinox, and though

it was still fine, the days were much shorter. The dairy had again

worked by morning candlelight for a long time; and a fresh renewal

of Clare's pleading occurred one morning between three and four.

She had run up in her bedgown to his door to call him as usual;

then had gone back to dress and call the others; and in ten minutes

was walking to the head of the stairs with the candle in her

hand. At the same moment he came down his steps from above in his

shirt-sleeves and put his arm across the stairway.




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