Tess of the d'Urbervilles (Oxford World's Classics) by Hardy Thomas & Simon Gatrell & Juliet Grindle & Penny Boumelha

Author:Hardy, Thomas & Simon Gatrell & Juliet Grindle & Penny Boumelha [Hardy, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Oxford University Press
Published: 2005-02-24T05:00:00+00:00

XXXII

THIS penitential mood kept her from naming the wedding-day. The beginning of November found its date still in abeyance, though he asked her at the most tempting times. But Tess’s desire seemed to be for a perpetual betrothal, in which everything should remain as it was then.

The meads were changing now; but it was still warm enough in early afternoons before milking to idle there awhile, and the state of dairy-work at this time of year allowed a spare hour for idling. Looking over the damp sod in the direction of the sun a glistening ripple of gossamer-webs was visible to their eyes under the luminary, like the track of moonlight on the sea. Gnats, knowing nothing of their brief glorification, wandered across the shimmer of this pathway, irradiated as if they bore fire within them; then passed out of its line, and were quite extinct. In the presence of these things he would remind her that the date was still the question.

Or he would ask her at night, when he accompanied her on some mission invented by Mrs Crick to give him the opportunity. This was mostly a journey to the farm-house on the slopes above the vale, to inquire how the advanced cows were getting on in the straw-barton to which they were relegated. For it was a time of the year that brought great changes to the world of kine. Batches of the animals were sent away daily to this lying-in hospital, where they lived on straw till their calves were born, after which event, and as soon as the calf could walk, mother and offspring were driven back to the dairy. In the interval which elapsed before the calves were sold there was, of course, little milking to be done, but as soon as the calf had been taken away the milkmaids would have to set to work as usual.

Returning from one of these dark walks they reached a great gravel cliff immediately over the levels, where they stood still and listened. The water was now high in the streams, squirting through the weirs and tinkling under culverts; the smallest gulleys were all full; there was no taking short cuts anywhere, and foot-passengers were compelled to follow the permanent ways. From the whole extent of the invisible vale came a multitudinous intonation: it forced upon their fancy that a great city lay below them, and that the murmur was the vociferation of its populace.

“It seems like tens of thousands of them,” said Tess; “holding public meetings in their market-places, arguing, preaching, quarrelling, sobbing, groaning, praying, and cursing.” Clare was not particularly heeding.

“Did Crick speak to you to-day, dear, about his not wanting much assistance during the winter months?”

“No.”

“The cows are going dry* rapidly.”

“Yes. Six or seven went to the straw-barton yesterday; and three the day before, making nearly twenty in the straw already. Ah—is it that the farmer don’t want my help for the calving? O I am not wanted here any more! And I have tried so hard to—”

“Crick didn’t exactly say that he would no longer require you.

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