had lodgings.
'Upon my honour!' cried he, 'there was never before such a beautiful
thing in Nature or Art as you look, 'Cousin' Tess ('Cousin' had a
faint ring of mockery). I have been watching you from over the
wall--sitting like IM-patience on a monument, and pouting up that
pretty red mouth to whistling shape, and whooing and whooing, and
privately swearing, and never being able to produce a note. Why,
you are quite cross because you can't do it.'
'I may be cross, but I didn't swear.'
'Ah! I understand why you are trying--those bullies! My mother
wants you to carry on their musical education. How selfish of her!
As if attending to these curst cocks and hens here were not enough
work for any girl. I would flatly refuse, if I were you.'
'But she wants me particularly to do it, and to be ready by to-morrow
morning.'
'Does she? Well then--I'll give you a lesson or two.'
'Oh no, you won't!' said Tess, withdrawing towards the door.
'Nonsense; I don't want to touch you. See--I'll stand on this side
of the wire-netting, and you can keep on the other; so you may feel
quite safe. Now, look here; you screw up your lips too harshly.
There 'tis--so.'
He suited the action to the word, and whistled a line of 'Take, O
take those lips away.' But the allusion was lost upon Tess.
'Now try,' said d'Urberville.
She attempted to look reserved; her face put on a sculptural
severity. But he persisted in his demand, and at last, to get rid of
him, she did put up her lips as directed for producing a clear note;
laughing distressfully, however, and then blushing with vexation that
she had laughed.
He encouraged her with 'Try again!'
Tess was quite serious, painfully serious by this time; and she
tried--ultimately and unexpectedly emitting a real round sound.
The momentary pleasure of success got the better of her; her eyes
enlarged, and she involuntarily smiled in his face.
'That's it! Now I have started you--you'll go on beautifully.
There--I said I would not come near you; and, in spite of such
temptation as never before fell to mortal man, I'll keep my
word... Tess, do you think my mother a queer old soul?'
'I don't know much of her yet, sir.'
'You'll find her so; she must be, to make you learn to whistle to her
bullfinches. I am rather out of her books just now, but you will be
quite in favour if you treat her live-stock well. Good morning. If
you meet with any difficulties and want help here, don't go to the
bailiff, come to me.'
It was in the economy of this _rйgime_ that Tess Durbeyfield had
undertaken to fill a place. Her first day's experiences were fairly
typical of those which followed through many succeeding days. A
familiarity with Alec d'Urberville's presence--which that young man
carefully cultivated in her by playful dialogue, and by jestingly
