Clare therefore thought it would be best to prepare Tess and her

family by sending a line to Marlott announcing his return, and his

hope that she was still living with them there, as he had arranged

for her to do when he left England. He despatched the inquiry that

very day, and before the week was out there came a short reply from

Mrs Durbeyfield which did not remove his embarrassment, for it bore

no address, though to his surprise it was not written from Marlott.

SIR, J write these few lines to say that my Daughter is away

from me at present, and J am not sure when she will

return, but J will let you know as Soon as she do.

Advertisement..

J do not feel at liberty to tell you Where she is

temperly biding. J should say that me and my Family

have left Marlott for some Time.-Yours, J. DURBEYFIELD

It was such a relief to Clare to learn that Tess was at least

apparently well that her mother's stiff reticence as to her

whereabouts did not long distress him. They were all angry with him,

evidently. He would wait till Mrs Durbeyfield could inform him of

Tess's return, which her letter implied to be soon. He deserved no

more. His had been a love "which alters when it alteration finds".

He had undergone some strange experiences in his absence; he had seen

the virtual Faustina in the literal Cornelia, a spiritual Lucretia in

a corporeal Phryne; he had thought of the woman taken and set in the

midst as one deserving to be stoned, and of the wife of Uriah being

made a queen; and he had asked himself why he had not judged Tess

constructively rather than biographically, by the will rather than

by the deed? A day or two passed while he waited at his father's house for the

promised second note from Joan Durbeyfield, and indirectly to recover

a little more strength. The strength showed signs of coming back,

but there was no sign of Joan's letter. Then he hunted up the

old letter sent on to him in Brazil, which Tess had written from

Flintcomb-Ash, and re-read it. The sentences touched him now as

much as when he had first perused them. ...

I must cry to you in my trouble--I have no one

else! ... I think I must die if you do not come

soon, or tell me to come to you... please, please,

not to be just--only a little kind to me ... If

you would come, I could die in your arms! I would

be well content to do that if so be you had forgiven

me! ... if you will send me one little line, and say,

"I am coming soon," I will bide on, Angel--O, so

cheerfully! ... think how it do hurt my heart not to

see you ever--ever! Ah, if I could only make your

dear heart ache one little minute of each day as mine

does every day and all day long, it might lead you to

show pity to your poor lonely one. ... I would be

content, ay, glad, to live with you as your servant,

if I may not as your wife; so that I could only be

near you, and get glimpses of you, and think of you

as mine. ... I long for only one thing in heaven

or earth or under the earth, to meet you, my own

dear! Come to me--come to me, and save me from what

threatens me!




Most Popular