Their talk was of Angel Clare and Tess, and Tess's persistent lover,
whose connection with her previous history they had partly heard and
partly guessed ere this.
''Tisn't as though she had never known him afore,' said Marian. 'His
having won her once makes all the difference in the world. 'Twould
be a thousand pities if he were to tole her away again. Mr Clare can
never be anything to us, Izz; and why should we grudge him to her,
and not try to mend this quarrel? If he could on'y know what straits
she's put to, and what's hovering round, he might come to take care
of his own.'
'Could we let him know?'
They thought of this all the way to their destination; but the bustle
of re-establishment in their new place took up all their attention
then. But when they were settled, a month later, they heard of
Clare's approaching return, though they had learnt nothing more of
Tess. Upon that, agitated anew by their attachment to him, yet
honourably disposed to her, Marian uncorked the penny ink-bottle they
shared, and a few lines were concocted between the two girls.
HONOUR'D SIR--
Look to your Wife if you do love her as much as she do
love you. For she is sore put to by an Enemy in the shape
of a Friend. Sir, there is one near her who ought to be
Away. A woman should not be try'd beyond her Strength,
and continual dropping will wear away a Stone--ay,
more--a Diamond.
FROM TWO WELL-WISHERS
This was addressed to Angel Clare at the only place they had ever
heard him to be connected with, Emminster Vicarage; after which they
continued in a mood of emotional exaltation at their own generosity,
which made them sing in hysterical snatches and weep at the same
time.
END OF PHASE THE SIXTH
Phase the Seventh: Fulfilment
LIII
It was evening at Emminster Vicarage. The two customary candles were
burning under their green shades in the Vicar's study, but he had not
been sitting there. Occasionally he came in, stirred the small fire
which sufficed for the increasing mildness of the spring, and went
out again; sometimes pausing at the front door, going on to the
drawing-room, then returning again to the front door.
It faced westward, and though gloom prevailed inside, there was still
light enough without to see with distinctness. Mrs Clare, who had
been sitting in the drawing-room, followed him hither.
'Plenty of time yet,' said the Vicar. 'He doesn't reach Chalk-Newton
till six, even if the train should be punctual, and ten miles of
country-road, five of them in Crimmercrock Lane, are not jogged over
in a hurry by our old horse.'
'But he has done it in an hour with us, my dear.'
'Years ago.'
Thus they passed the minutes, each well knowing that this was only
