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Marian
and
Izz
were
much
interested
in
her
excursion
,
knowing
that
the
journey
concerned
her
husband
.
Their
lodgings
were
in
a
cottage
a
little
further
along
the
lane
,
but
they
came
and
assisted
Tess
in
her
departure
,
and
argued
that
she
should
dress
up
in
her
very
prettiest
guise
to
captivate
the
hearts
of
her
parents
-
in
-
law
;
though
she
,
knowing
of
the
austere
and
Calvinistic
tenets
of
old
Mr
Clare
,
was
indifferent
,
and
even
doubtful
.
A
year
had
now
elapsed
since
her
sad
marriage
,
but
she
had
preserved
sufficient
draperies
from
the
wreck
of
her
then
full
wardrobe
to
clothe
her
very
charmingly
as
a
simple
country
girl
with
no
pretensions
to
recent
fashion
;
a
soft
gray
woollen
gown
,
with
white
crape
quilling
against
the
pink
skin
of
her
face
and
neck
,
and
a
black
velvet
jacket
and
hat
.
“
’
Tis
a
thousand
pities
your
husband
can
’
t
see
‘
ee
now
—
you
do
look
a
real
beauty
!
”
said
Izz
Huett
,
regarding
Tess
as
she
stood
on
the
threshold
between
the
steely
starlight
without
the
yellow
candlelight
within
.
Izz
spoke
with
a
magnanimous
abandonment
of
herself
to
the
situation
;
she
could
not
be
—
no
woman
with
a
heart
bigger
than
a
hazel
-
nut
could
be
—
antagonistic
to
Tess
in
her
presence
,
the
influence
which
she
exercised
over
those
of
her
own
sex
being
of
a
warmth
and
strength
quite
unusual
,
curiously
overpowering
the
less
worthy
feminine
feelings
of
spite
and
rivalry
.
With
a
final
tug
and
touch
here
,
and
a
slight
brush
there
,
they
let
her
go
;
and
she
was
absorbed
into
the
pearly
air
of
the
fore
-
dawn
.
They
heard
her
footsteps
tap
along
the
hard
road
as
she
stepped
out
to
her
full
pace
.
Even
Izz
hoped
she
would
win
,
and
,
though
without
any
particular
respect
for
her
own
virtue
,
felt
glad
that
she
had
been
prevented
wronging
her
friend
when
momentarily
tempted
by
Clare
.
It
was
a
year
ago
,
all
but
a
day
,
that
Clare
had
married
Tess
,
and
only
a
few
days
less
than
a
year
that
he
had
been
absent
from
her
.
Still
,
to
start
on
a
brisk
walk
,
and
on
such
an
errand
as
hers
,
on
a
dry
clear
wintry
morning
,
through
the
rarefied
air
of
these
chalky
hogs
’
-
backs
,
was
not
depressing
;
and
there
is
no
doubt
that
her
dream
at
starting
was
to
win
the
heart
of
her
mother
-
in
-
law
,
tell
her
whole
history
to
that
lady
,
enlist
her
on
her
side
,
and
so
gain
back
the
truant
.
In
time
she
reached
the
edge
of
the
vast
escarpment
below
which
stretched
the
loamy
Vale
of
Blackmoor
,
now
lying
misty
and
still
in
the
dawn
.
Instead
of
the
colourless
air
of
the
uplands
the
atmosphere
down
there
was
a
deep
blue
.
Instead
of
the
great
enclosures
of
a
hundred
acres
in
which
she
was
now
accustomed
to
toil
there
were
little
fields
below
her
of
less
than
half
-
a
-
dozen
acres
,
so
numerous
that
they
looked
from
this
height
like
the
meshes
of
a
net
.
Here
the
landscape
was
whitey
-
brown
;
down
there
,
as
in
Froom
Valley
,
it
was
always
green
.
Yet
is
was
in
that
vale
that
her
sorrow
had
taken
shape
,
and
she
did
not
love
it
as
formerly
.
Beauty
to
her
,
as
to
all
who
have
felt
,
lay
not
in
the
thing
,
but
in
what
the
thing
symbolized
.
Keeping
the
Vale
on
her
right
she
steered
steadily
westward
;
passing
above
the
Hintocks
,
crossing
at
right
-
angles
the
high
-
road
from
Sherton
-
Abbas
to
Casterbridge
,
and
skirting
Dogbury
Hill
and
High
-
Stoy
,
with
the
dell
between
them
called
“
The
Devil
’
s
Kitchen
”
.
Still
following
the
elevated
way
she
reached
Cross
-
in
-
Hand
,
where
the
stone
pillar
stands
desolate
and
silent
,
to
mark
the
site
of
a
miracle
,
or
murder
,
or
both
.
Three
miles
further
she
cut
across
the
straight
and
deserted
Roman
road
called
Long
-
Ash
Lane
;
leaving
which
as
soon
as
she
reached
it
she
dipped
down
a
hill
by
a
transverse
lane
into
the
small
town
or
village
of
Evershead
,
being
now
about
halfway
over
the
distance
.
She
made
a
halt
here
,
and
breakfasted
a
second
time
,
heartily
enough
—
not
at
the
Sow
-
and
-
Acorn
,
for
she
avoided
inns
,
but
at
a
cottage
by
the
church
.
The
second
half
of
her
journey
was
through
a
more
gentle
country
,
by
way
of
Benvill
Lane
.
But
as
the
mileage
lessened
between
her
and
the
spot
of
her
pilgrimage
,
so
did
Tess
’
s
confidence
decrease
,
and
her
enterprise
loom
out
more
formidably
.
She
saw
her
purpose
in
such
staring
lines
,
and
the
landscape
so
faintly
,
that
she
was
sometimes
in
danger
of
losing
her
way
.
However
,
about
noon
she
paused
by
a
gate
on
the
edge
of
the
basin
in
which
Emminster
and
its
Vicarage
lay
.
