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He
deemed
it
best
not
to
put
his
parents
into
communication
with
her
by
informing
them
of
her
address
;
and
,
being
unaware
of
what
had
really
happened
to
estrange
the
two
,
neither
his
father
nor
his
mother
suggested
that
he
should
do
so
.
During
the
day
he
left
the
parsonage
,
for
what
he
had
to
complete
he
wished
to
get
done
quickly
.
As
the
last
duty
before
leaving
this
part
of
England
it
was
necessary
for
him
to
call
at
the
Wellbridge
farmhouse
,
in
which
he
had
spent
with
Tess
the
first
three
days
of
their
marriage
,
the
trifle
of
rent
having
to
be
paid
,
the
key
given
up
of
the
rooms
they
had
occupied
,
and
two
or
three
small
articles
fetched
away
that
they
had
left
behind
.
It
was
under
this
roof
that
the
deepest
shadow
ever
thrown
upon
his
life
had
stretched
its
gloom
over
him
.
Yet
when
he
had
unlocked
the
door
of
the
sitting
-
room
and
looked
into
it
,
the
memory
which
returned
first
upon
him
was
that
of
their
happy
arrival
on
a
similar
afternoon
,
the
first
fresh
sense
of
sharing
a
habitation
conjointly
,
the
first
meal
together
,
the
chatting
by
the
fire
with
joined
hands
.
The
farmer
and
his
wife
were
in
the
field
at
the
moment
of
his
visit
,
and
Clare
was
in
the
rooms
alone
for
some
time
.
Inwardly
swollen
with
a
renewal
of
sentiment
that
he
had
not
quite
reckoned
with
,
he
went
upstairs
to
her
chamber
,
which
had
never
been
his
.
The
bed
was
smooth
as
she
had
made
it
with
her
own
hands
on
the
morning
of
leaving
.
The
mistletoe
hung
under
the
tester
just
as
he
had
placed
it
.
Having
been
there
three
or
four
weeks
it
was
turning
colour
,
and
the
leaves
and
berries
were
wrinkled
.
Angel
took
it
down
and
crushed
it
into
the
grate
.
Standing
there
he
for
the
first
time
doubted
whether
his
course
in
this
conjecture
had
been
a
wise
,
much
less
a
generous
,
one
.
But
had
he
not
been
cruelly
blinded
?
In
the
incoherent
multitude
of
his
emotions
he
knelt
down
at
the
bedside
wet
-
eyed
.
“
O
Tess
!
If
you
had
only
told
me
sooner
,
I
would
have
forgiven
you
!
”
he
mourned
.
Hearing
a
footstep
below
he
rose
and
went
to
the
top
of
the
stairs
.
At
the
bottom
of
the
flight
he
saw
a
woman
standing
,
and
on
her
turning
up
her
face
recognized
the
pale
,
dark
-
eyed
Izz
Huett
.
“
Mr
Clare
,
”
she
said
,
“
I
’
ve
called
to
see
you
and
Mrs
Clare
,
and
to
inquire
if
ye
be
well
.
I
thought
you
might
be
back
here
again
.
”
This
was
a
girl
whose
secret
he
had
guessed
,
but
who
had
not
yet
guessed
his
;
an
honest
girl
who
loved
him
—
one
who
would
have
made
as
good
,
or
nearly
as
good
,
a
practical
farmer
’
s
wife
as
Tess
.
“
I
am
here
alone
,
”
he
said
;
“
we
are
not
living
here
now
.
”
Explaining
why
he
had
come
,
he
asked
,
“
Which
way
are
you
going
home
,
Izz
?
”
“
I
have
no
home
at
Talbothays
Dairy
now
,
sir
,
”
she
said
.
“
Why
is
that
?
”
