icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Tess of the D‘Urbervilles

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 3437    |    Released on: 20/11/2017

d was what was locally called a slack-twisted fellow; he had good strength to work at times; but the times could not be relied on to coincide with the ho

this quagmire, was silently wondering what she could do to

called for moment. You must try your friends. Do ye know that there is a very rich Mrs d'Urberville living on the outs

e is such a lady, `would be enough for us if she w

r. Besides, perhaps there's more in it than you

d why her mother should find such satisfaction in contemplating an enterprise of, to her, such doubtful profit. Her mother might have made inquiries, and have dis

y to get work,

fe, turning to where he sat in the background

lden to strange kin,' murmured he. `I'm the head of the no

mother,' she said mournfully, `I suppose I ought to do something. I don't mind going and seeing her, but you mu

ss!' observed her f

such a thought

your mind, mothe

of a van which twice in the week ran from Shaston eastward to Chaseborough, passing near Tr

been mystery to her then was not much less than mystery to her now. She has seen dally from her chamber-window towers, villages, faint white mansions; above all the town of Shaston standing majestically on its height; its windows shining like lamps in the evening sun. She had hardly ever visited the place, only a small tract even of the Vale and its environs be

pinafore, of a finely reticulated pattern, worn over a stuff frock that had lost its original colour for a nondescript tertiary - marching on upon long stalky legs, in tight stockings which had little ladder-like holes at the knees, torn by kn

o many little sisters and brothers, when it was such a trouble to nurse and provide for them. Her mother's intelligence was that of a

eft school, to lend a hand at hay making or harvesting on neighbouring farms; or, by preference, at milking or butter-making pro

be the representative of the Durbeyfields at the d'Urberville mansion came as a thing of course. I

d. It was not a manorial home in the ordinary sense, with fields, and pastures, and a grumbling farmer, out of whom the owner had to squeeze an income for himself and his family by hook or by crook. It was more, far more; a count

the same rich red colour that formed such a contrast with the evergreens of the lodge. Far behind the corner of the house - which rose like a geranium bloom against the subdued colours around - stretched the soft azure landscape of The Chase - a truly venerable tract of forest land, one of the few remaining woodlands in Englan

t. Everything looked like money - like the last coin issued from the Mint. The stables, partly screened by Austrian pines and evergreen oaks, and

of the gravel sweep. Her feet had brought her onward to this point before she

essness. She wished that she had not fallen in so readily with her mother's

ruly when he said that our shambling John Durbeyfield was the only really lineal representative of the old d'Urberville family existing in the county, or near it; he might have added, what he knew very well, that t

radesman 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

r discomfiture; indeed, the very possibility of such annexations was unknown to them; who suppos

nowing whether to retreat or to persevere, when a figure came forth from the

omed black moustache with curled points, though his age could not be more than three or four-and-twenty. Despite the

d. And perceiving that she stood quite confounded: `Never mind m

med of an aged and dignified face, the sublimation of all the d'Urberville lineaments, furrowed with incarnate memories representing in hieroglyphic

see your mo

e of the spurious house; for this was Mr Alec, the only son of the lately deceased gent

s - it is - I can

asur

if I tell you, i

otwithstanding her awe of him, and her general discomfort at being here, her ro

r I can't tell you!' `Never mind; I like fooli

mind to do so myself likewise. But I did not think it would be like t

or rela

es

oke

Urbervi

mean d'Ur

and we have an old seal, marked with a ramping lion on a shield, and a castle over him. And we have a very old silver spoon, roun

my crest,' said he blandly.

known to you - as we've lost our horse by a bad a

' Alec looked at Tess as he spoke, in a way that made her blush a little. `A

altered Tess, looking

rm in it. Where do yo

further inquiries told him that she was intending

Trantridge Cross. Supposing we walk round t

onsented to accompany him. He conducted her about the lawns, and flower-beds, and conservatorie

Tess, `when

handing them back to her as he stooped; and, presently, selecting a specially fine pro

her lips. `I would rather take it in my own hand.' `Nonsense!' he in

wo passed round to the rose trees, whence he gathered blossoms and gave her to put in her bosom. She obeyed like one in a dream, and when she could affix no more he himself tucked a bud or two into her hat, and heaped her basket with others in

eappearing with a basket of light luncheon, which he put before her himself. It was evide

my smoking?

t at al

o stood fair to be the blood-red-ray in the spectrum of her young life. She had an attribute which amounted to a disadvantage just now; and it was attribute which amounted to a disadvantage just now; and it was this that caused Alec d'Urberville's eyes to rivet themselves upon her. It was a

lunch. `Now I am going hom

as he accompanied her along the drive t

field, down

r people have lo

tears as she gave particulars of Prince's death. `And

y mother must find a berth for you. But,

y, you know - qui

, sir,' said she with

ween the tall rhododendrons and conifers, before the lodge became visible, he incl

the wrong man, and not by some other man, the right and desired one in all respects - as nearly as humanity can supply the right and de

me, outworn game. We may wonder whether at the acme and summit of the human progress these anachronisms will be corrected by a finer intuition, a closer interaction of the social machinery than that which now jolts us round and along; but such completeness is not to be prophesied, or even conceived as possible. Enough that in the present cas

n astride on a chair reflecting, with a pleased g

a funny thing! Ha-ha-ha!

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open