Tess of the dUrbervilles - Page 132/283

"Tess," he said, holding her at arm's length, "you are engaged to

marry some one else!" "No, no!" "Then why do you refuse me?"

"I don't want to marry! I have not thought of doing it. I cannot!

I only want to love you."

"But why?" Driven to subterfuge, she stammered-

"Your father is a parson, and your mother wouldn' like you to marry

such as me. She will want you to marry a lady."

"Nonsense--I have spoken to them both. That was partly why I went

home."

"I feel I cannot--never, never!" she echoed. "Is it too sudden to be asked thus, my Pretty?"

"Yes--I did not expect it."

"If you will let it pass, please, Tessy, I will give you time," he

said. "It was very abrupt to come home and speak to you all at once.

I'll not allude to it again for a while."

She again took up the shining skimmer, held it beneath the pump, and

began anew. But she could not, as at other times, hit the exact

under-surface of the cream with the delicate dexterity required, try

as she might; sometimes she was cutting down into the milk, sometimes

in the air. She could hardly see, her eyes having filled with two

blurring tears drawn forth by a grief which, to this her best friend

and dear advocate, she could never explain.

"I can't skim--I can't!" she said, turning away from him.

Not to agitate and hinder her longer, the considerate Clare began

talking in a more general way: You quite misapprehend my parents.

They are the most simple-mannered

people alive, and quite unambitious. They are two of the few

remaining Evangelical school. Tessy, are you an Evangelical?"

"I don't know." "You go to church very regularly, and our parson here is not very

High, they tell me." Tess's ideas on the views of the parish clergyman, whom she heard

every week, seemed to be rather more vague than Clare's, who had

never heard him at all. "I wish I could fix my mind on what I hear there more firmly than I

do," she remarked as a safe generality. "It is often a great sorrow

to me." She spoke so unaffectedly that Angel was sure in his heart that his

father could not object to her on religious grounds, even though she

did not know whether her principles were High, Low or Broad. He

himself knew that, in reality, the confused beliefs which she held,

apparently imbibed in childhood, were, if anything, Tractarian as to

phraseology, and Pantheistic as to essence. Confused or otherwise,

to disturb them was his last desire: