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Her
kindred
dwelling
there
would
probably
continue
their
daily
lives
as
heretofore
,
with
no
great
diminution
of
pleasure
in
their
consciousness
,
although
she
would
be
far
off
,
and
they
deprived
of
her
smile
.
In
a
few
days
the
children
would
engage
in
their
games
as
merrily
as
ever
,
without
the
sense
of
any
gap
left
by
her
departure
.
This
leaving
of
the
younger
children
she
had
decided
to
be
for
the
best
;
were
she
to
remain
they
would
probably
gain
less
good
by
her
precepts
than
harm
by
her
example
.
She
went
through
Stourcastle
without
pausing
,
and
onward
to
a
junction
of
highways
,
where
she
could
await
a
carrier
’
s
van
that
ran
to
the
south
-
west
;
for
the
railways
which
engirdled
this
interior
tract
of
country
had
never
yet
struck
across
it
.
While
waiting
,
however
,
there
came
along
a
farmer
in
his
spring
cart
,
driving
approximately
in
the
direction
that
she
wished
to
pursue
.
Though
he
was
a
stranger
to
her
she
accepted
his
offer
of
a
seat
beside
him
,
ignoring
that
its
motive
was
a
mere
tribute
to
her
countenance
.
He
was
going
to
Weatherbury
,
and
by
accompanying
him
thither
she
could
walk
the
remainder
of
the
distance
instead
of
travelling
in
the
van
by
way
of
Casterbridge
.
Tess
did
not
stop
at
Weatherbury
,
after
this
long
drive
,
further
than
to
make
a
slight
nondescript
meal
at
noon
at
a
cottage
to
which
the
farmer
recommended
her
.
Thence
she
started
on
foot
,
basket
in
hand
,
to
reach
the
wide
upland
of
heath
dividing
this
district
from
the
low
-
lying
meads
of
a
further
valley
in
which
the
dairy
stood
that
was
the
aim
and
end
of
her
day
’
s
pilgrimage
.
Tess
had
never
before
visited
this
part
of
the
country
,
and
yet
she
felt
akin
to
the
landscape
.
Not
so
very
far
to
the
left
of
her
she
could
discern
a
dark
patch
in
the
scenery
,
which
inquiry
confirmed
her
in
supposing
to
be
trees
marking
the
environs
of
Kingsbere
—
in
the
church
of
which
parish
the
bones
of
her
ancestors
—
her
useless
ancestors
—
lay
entombed
.
She
had
no
admiration
for
them
now
;
she
almost
hated
them
for
the
dance
they
had
led
her
;
not
a
thing
of
all
that
had
been
theirs
did
she
retain
but
the
old
seal
and
spoon
.
“
Pooh
—
I
have
as
much
of
mother
as
father
in
me
!
”
she
said
.
“
All
my
prettiness
comes
from
her
,
and
she
was
only
a
dairymaid
.
”
The
journey
over
the
intervening
uplands
and
lowlands
of
Egdon
,
when
she
reached
them
,
was
a
more
troublesome
walk
than
she
had
anticipated
,
the
distance
being
actually
but
a
few
miles
.
It
was
two
hours
,
owing
to
sundry
wrong
turnings
,
ere
she
found
herself
on
a
summit
commanding
the
long
-
sought
-
for
vale
,
the
Valley
of
the
Great
Dairies
,
the
valley
in
which
milk
and
butter
grew
to
rankness
,
and
were
produced
more
profusely
,
if
less
delicately
,
than
at
her
home
—
the
verdant
plain
so
well
watered
by
the
river
Var
or
Froom
.
It
was
intrinsically
different
from
the
Vale
of
Little
Dairies
,
Blackmoor
Vale
,
which
,
save
during
her
disastrous
sojourn
at
Trantridge
,
she
had
exclusively
known
till
now
.
The
world
was
drawn
to
a
larger
pattern
here
.
The
enclosures
numbered
fifty
acres
instead
of
ten
,
the
farmsteads
were
more
extended
,
the
groups
of
cattle
formed
tribes
hereabout
;
there
only
families
.
These
myriads
of
cows
stretching
under
her
eyes
from
the
far
east
to
the
far
west
outnumbered
any
she
had
ever
seen
at
one
glance
before
.
The
green
lea
was
speckled
as
thickly
with
them
as
a
canvas
by
Van
Alsloot
or
Sallaert
with
burghers
.
The
ripe
hue
of
the
red
and
dun
kine
absorbed
the
evening
sunlight
,
which
the
white
-
coated
animals
returned
to
the
eye
in
rays
almost
dazzling
,
even
at
the
distant
elevation
on
which
she
stood
.
The
bird
’
s
-
eye
perspective
before
her
was
not
so
luxuriantly
beautiful
,
perhaps
,
as
that
other
one
which
she
knew
so
well
;
yet
it
was
more
cheering
.
It
lacked
the
intensely
blue
atmosphere
of
the
rival
vale
,
and
its
heavy
soils
and
scents
;
the
new
air
was
clear
,
bracing
,
ethereal
.
The
river
itself
,
which
nourished
the
grass
and
cows
of
these
renowned
dairies
,
flowed
not
like
the
streams
in
Blackmoor
.
