"Hark at that child!" cried Mrs Durbeyfield, with parenthetic
admiration. "Perhaps to show his diamond ring," murmured Sir John, dreamily, from
his chair. "I'll think it over," said Tess, leaving the room.
"Well, she's made a conquest o' the younger branch of us, straight
off," continued the matron to her husband, "and she's a fool if she
don't follow it up." "I don't quite like my children going away from home," said the
haggler. "As the head of the family, the rest ought to come to me."
"But do let her go, Jacky," coaxed his poor witless wife. "He's
struck wi' her--you can see that. He called her Coz! He'll marry
her, most likely, and make a lady of her; and then she'll be what
her forefathers was." John Durbeyfield had more conceit than energy or health, and this
supposition was pleasant to him.
"Well, perhaps that's what young Mr d'Urberville means," he admitted;
"and sure enough he mid have serious thoughts about improving his
blood by linking on to the old line. Tess, the little rogue! And
have she really paid 'em a visit to such an end as this?" Meanwhile Tess was walking thoughtfully among the gooseberry-bushes
in the garden, and over Prince's grave. When she came in her mother
pursued her advantage. "Well, what be you going to do?" she asked. "I wish I had seen Mrs d'Urberville," said Tess. "I think you mid as well settle it. Then you'll see her soon
enough." Her father coughed in his chair. "I don't know what to say!" answered the girl restlessly. "It is for
you to decide. I killed the old horse, and I suppose I ought to do
something to get ye a new one. But--but--I don't quite like Mr
d'Urberville being there!"
The children, who had made use of this idea of Tess being taken up by
their wealthy kinsfolk (which they imagined the other family to be)
as a species of dolorifuge after the death of the horse, began to cry
at Tess's reluctance, and teased and reproached her for hesitating.
"Tess won't go-o-o and be made a la-a-dy of!--no, she says she
wo-o-on't!" they wailed, with square mouths. "And we shan't have a
nice new horse, and lots o' golden money to buy fairlings! And Tess
won't look pretty in her best cloze no mo-o-ore!"
Her mother chimed in to the same tune: a certain way she had of
making her labours in the house seem heavier than they were by
prolonging them indefinitely, also weighed in the argument. Her
father alone preserved an attitude of neutrality.