to her mother's house it was here that he would leave her. As they
could not talk with freedom in the driver's presence he asked her to
accompany him for a few steps on foot along one of the branch roads;
she assented, and directing the man to wait a few minutes they
strolled away.
'Now, let us understand each other,' he said gently. 'There is no
anger between us, though there is that which I cannot endure at
present. I will try to bring myself to endure it. I will let you
know where I go to as soon as I know myself. And if I can bring
myself to bear it--if it is desirable, possible--I will come to you.
But until I come to you it will be better that you should not try to
come to me.'
The severity of the decree seemed deadly to Tess; she saw his view of
her clearly enough; he could regard her in no other light than that
of one who had practised gross deceit upon him. Yet could a woman
who had done even what she had done deserve all this? But she could
contest the point with him no further. She simply repeated after him
his own words.
'Until you come to me I must not try to come to you?'
'Just so.'
'May I write to you?'
'O yes--if you are ill, or want anything at all. I hope that will
not be the case; so that it may happen that I write first to you.'
'I agree to the conditions, Angel; because you know best what my
punishment ought to be; only--only--don't make it more than I can
bear!'
That was all she said on the matter. If Tess had been artful, had
she made a scene, fainted, wept hysterically, in that lonely lane,
notwithstanding the fury of fastidiousness with which he was
possessed, he would probably not have withstood her. But her mood
of long-suffering made his way easy for him, and she herself was
his best advocate. Pride, too, entered into her submission--which
perhaps was a symptom of that reckless acquiescence in chance too
apparent in the whole d'Urberville family--and the many effective
chords which she could have stirred by an appeal were left untouched.
The remainder of their discourse was on practical matters only. He
now handed her a packet containing a fairly good sum of money, which
he had obtained from his bankers for the purpose. The brilliants,
the interest in which seemed to be Tess's for her life only (if he
understood the wording of the will), he advised her to let him send
to a bank for safety; and to this she readily agreed.
These things arranged, he walked with Tess back to the carriage,
and handed her in. The coachman was paid and told where to drive
her. Taking next his own bag and umbrella--the sole articles he had
brought with him hitherwards--he bade her goodbye; and they parted
there and then.
The fly moved creepingly up a hill, and Clare watched it go with an
unpremeditated hope that Tess would look out of the window for one
moment. But that she never thought of doing, would not have ventured
to do, lying in a half-dead faint inside. Thus he beheld her recede,
