The historic interest of her family--that masterful line of
d'Urbervilles--whom he had despised as a spent force, touched his
sentiments now. Why had he not known the difference between the
political value and the imaginative value of these things? In
the latter aspect her d'Urberville descent was a fact of great
dimensions; worthless to economics, it was a most useful ingredient
to the dreamer, to the moralizer on declines and falls. It was a
fact that would soon be forgotten--that bit of distinction in poor
Tess's blood and name, and oblivion would fall upon her hereditary
link with the marble monuments and leaded skeletons at Kingsbere. So
does Time ruthlessly destroy his own romances. In recalling her face
again and again, he thought now that he could see therein a flash of
the dignity which must have graced her grand-dames; and the vision
sent that aura through his veins which he had formerly felt, and
which left behind it a sense of sickness.
Despite her not-inviolate past, what still abode in such a woman as
Tess outvalued the freshness of her fellows. Was not the gleaning
of the grapes of Ephraim better than the vintage of Abiezer?
So spoke love renascent, preparing the way for Tess's devoted
outpouring, which was then just being forwarded to him by his father;
though owing to his distance inland it was to be a long time in
reaching him.
Meanwhile the writer's expectation that Angel would come in response
to the entreaty was alternately great and small. What lessened it
was that the facts of her life which had led to the parting had
not changed--could never change; and that, if her presence had not
attenuated them, her absence could not. Nevertheless she addressed
her mind to the tender question of what she could do to please him
best if he should arrive. Sighs were expended on the wish that she
had taken more notice of the tunes he played on his harp, that she
had inquired more curiously of him which were his favourite ballads
among those the country-girls sang. She indirectly inquired of Amby
Seedling, who had followed Izz from Talbothays, and by chance Amby
remembered that, amongst the snatches of melody in which they had
indulged at the dairyman's, to induce the cows to let down their
milk, Clare had seemed to like "Cupid's Gardens", "I have parks, I
have hounds", and "The break o' the day"; and had seemed not to care
for "The Tailor's Breeches" and "Such a beauty I did grow", excellent
ditties as they were. To perfect the ballads was now her whimsical desire. She practised
them privately at odd moments, especially