"Oughtn't ye to have thought of that before?"

"Well, 'tis a chance for the maid--Still, if 'twere the doing again,

I wouldn't let her go till I had found out whether the gentleman

is really a good-hearted young man and choice over her as his

kinswoman."

"Yes, you ought, perhaps, to ha' done that," snored Sir John. J

oan Durbeyfield always managed to find consolation somewhere: "Well,

as one of the genuine stock, she ought to make her way with 'en, if

she plays her trump card aright. And if he don't marry her afore he

will after. For that he's all afire wi' love for her any eye can

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see." "What's her trump card? Her d'Urberville blood, you mean?"

"No, stupid; her face--as 'twas mine."

VIII

Having mounted beside her, Alec d'Urberville drove rapidly along

the crest of the first hill, chatting compliments to Tess as they

went, the cart with her box being left far behind. Rising still, an

immense landscape stretched around them on every side; behind, the

green valley of her birth, before, a gray country of which she knew

nothing except from her first brief visit to Trantridge. Thus they

reached the verge of an incline down which the road stretched in a

long straight descent of nearly a mile.

Ever since the accident with her father's horse Tess Durbeyfield,

courageous as she naturally was, had been exceedingly timid on

wheels; the least irregularity of motion startled her. She began to

get uneasy at a certain recklessness in her conductor's driving.

"You will go down slow, sir, I suppose?" she said with attempted

unconcern. D'Urberville looked round upon her, nipped his cigar with the tips of

his large white centre-teeth, and allowed his lips to smile slowly of

themselves. "Why, Tess," he answered, after another whiff or two, "it isn't a

brave bouncing girl like you who asks that? Why, I always go down at

full gallop. There's nothing like it for raising your spirits."

"But perhaps you need not now?"

"Ah," he said, shaking his head, "there are two to be reckoned with.

It is not me alone. Tib has to be considered, and she has a very

queer temper."

"Who?"

"Why, this mare. I fancy she looked round at me in a very grim way

just then. Didn't you notice it?"

"Don't try to frighten me, sir," said Tess stiffly.

"Well, I don't. If any living man can manage this horse I can: I

won't say any living man can do it--but if such has the power, I am

he." "Why do you have such a horse?"




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