When old Mr Simon Stoke, latterly deceased, had made his fortune as

an honest merchant (some said money-lender) in the North, he decided

to settle as a county man in the South of England, out of hail of

his business district; and in doing this he felt the necessity of

recommencing with a name that would not too readily identify him with

the smart tradesman of the past, and that would be less commonplace

than the original bald, stark words. Conning for an hour in the

British Museum the pages of works devoted to extinct, half-extinct,

obscured, and ruined families appertaining to the quarter of England

in which he proposed to settle, he considered that _d'Urberville_

looked and sounded as well as any of them: and d'Urberville

accordingly was annexed to his own name for himself and his heirs

eternally. Yet he was not an extravagant-minded man in this, and in

constructing his family tree on the new basis was duly reasonable in

framing his inter-marriages and aristocratic links, never inserting

a single title above a rank of strict moderation.

Of this work of imagination poor Tess and her parents were naturally

in ignorance--much to their discomfiture; indeed, the very

possibility of such annexations was unknown to them; who supposed

that, though to be well-favoured might be the gift of fortune, a

family name came by nature.

Tess still stood hesitating like a bather about to make his plunge,

hardly knowing whether to retreat or to persevere, when a figure came

forth from the dark triangular door of the tent. It was that of a

tall young man, smoking.

He had an almost swarthy complexion, with full lips, badly moulded,

though red and smooth, above which was a well-groomed black moustache

with curled points, though his age could not be more than three- or

four-and-twenty. Despite the touches of barbarism in his contours,

there was a singular force in the gentleman's face, and in his bold

rolling eye.

'Well, my Beauty, what can I do for you?' said he, coming forward.

And perceiving that she stood quite confounded: 'Never mind me. I am

Mr d'Urberville. Have you come to see me or my mother?'

This embodiment of a d'Urberville and a namesake differed even more

from what Tess had expected than the house and grounds had differed.

She had dreamed of an aged and dignified face, the sublimation of

all the d'Urberville lineaments, furrowed with incarnate memories

representing in hieroglyphic the centuries of her family's and

England's history. But she screwed herself up to the work in hand,

since she could not get out of it, and answered--

'I came to see your mother, sir.'

'I am afraid you cannot see her--she is an invalid,' replied the

present representative of the spurious house; for this was Mr Alec,

the only son of the lately deceased gentleman. 'Cannot I answer your

purpose? What is the business you wish to see her about?'

'It isn't business--it is--I can hardly say what!'

'Pleasure?'

'Oh no. Why, sir, if I tell you, it will seem--'

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