A young member of the band turned her head at the exclamation.She was a fine and handsome girl - not handsomer than some others, possibly - but her mobile peony mouth and large innocent eyes added eloquence to colour and shape.She wore a red ribbon in her hair, and was the only one of the white company who could boast of such a pronounced adornment.As she looked round Durbeyfield was seen moving along the road in a chaise belonging to The Pure Drop, driven by a frizzle-headed brawny damsel with her gown-sleeves rolled above her elbows.This was the cheerful servant of that establishment, who, in her part of factotum, turned groom and ostler at times.Durbeyfield, leaning back, and with his eyes closed luxuriously, was waving his hand above his head, and singing in a slow recitative--`I've-got-a-gr't-family-vault-at-Kingsbere - and knighted-forefathers-in-lead-coffins-there!'
The clubbists tittered, except the girl called Tess - in whom a slow heat seemed to rise at the sense that her father was making himself foolish in their eyes.
`He's tired, that's all,' she said hastily, `and he has got a lift home, because our own horse has to rest to-day.'
`Bless thy simplicity, Tess,' said her companions.`He's got his market-nitch.
Haw-haw!'
`Look here; I won't walk another inch with you, if you say any jokes about him!' Tess cried, and the colour upon her cheeks spread over her face and neck.In a moment her eyes grew moist, and her glance drooped to the ground.Perceiving that they had really pained her they said no more, and order again prevailed.Tess's pride would not allow her to turn her head again, to learn what her father's meaning was, if he had any;and thus she moved on with the whole body to the enclosure where there was to be dancing on the green.By the time the spot was reached she had recovered her equanimity, and tapped her neighbour with her wand and talked as usual.
Tess Durbeyfield at this time of her life was a mere vessel of emotion untinctured by experience.The dialect was on her tongue to some extent, despite the village school: the characteristic intonation of that dialect for this district being the voicing approximately rendered by the syllable UR, probably as rich an utterance as any to be found in human speech.The pouted-up deep red mouth to which this syllable was native had hardly as yet settled into its definite shape, and her lower lip had a way of thrusting the middle of her top one upward, when they closed together after a word.
Phases of her childhood lurked in her aspect still.As she walked along to-day, for all her bouncing handsome womanliness, you could sometimes see her twelfth year in her cheeks, or her ninth sparkling from her eyes;and even her fifth would flit over the curves of her mouth now and then.
Yet few knew, and still fewer considered this.A small minority, mainly strangers, would look long at her in casually passing by, and grow momentarily fascinated by her freshness, and wonder if they would ever see her again:
but to almost everybody she was a fine and picturesque country girl, and no more.
Nothing was seen or heard further of Durbeyfield in his triumphal chariot under the conduct of the ostleress, and the club having entered the allotted space, dancing began.As there were no men in the company the girls danced at first with each other, but when the hour for the close of labour drew on, the masculine inhabitants of the village, together with other idlers and pedestrians, gathered round the spot, and appeared inclined to negotiate for a partner.
Among these on-lookers were three Young men of a superior class, carrying small knapsacks strapped to their shoulders, and stout sticks in their hands.Their general likeness to each other, and their consecutive ages, would almost have suggested that they might be, what in fact they were, brothers.The eldest wore the white tie, high waistcoat, and thin-brimmed hat of the regulation curate; the second was the normal undergraduate;the appearance of the third and youngest would hardly have been sufficient to characterize him; there was an uncribbed, uncabined aspect in his eyes and attire, implying that he had hardly as yet found the entrance to his professional groove.That he was a desultory tentative student of something and everything might only have been predicted of him.
These three brethren told casual acquaintance that they were spending their Whitsun holidays in a walking tour through the Vale of Blackmoor, their course being south-westerly from the town of Shaston on the north-east.
They leant over the gate by the highway, and inquired as to the meaning of the dance and the white-frocked maids.The two elder of the brothers were plainly not intending to linger more than a moment, but the spectacle of a bevy of girls dancing without male partners seemed to amuse the third, and make him in no hurry to move on.He unstrapped his knapsack, put it, with his stick, on the hedge-bank, and opened the gate.
`What are you going to do, Angel?' asked the eldest.
`I am inclined to go and have a fling with them.Why not all of us -just for a minute or two - it will not detain us long?'
`No - no; nonsense!' said the first.`Dancing in public with a troop of country hoydens - suppose we should be seen! Come along, or it will be dark before we get to Stourcastle, and there's no place we can sleep at nearer than that; besides, we must get through another chapter of A Counterblast to Agnosticism before we turn in, now I have taken the trouble to bring the book.'
`All right - I'll overtake you and Cuthbert in five minutes; don't stop;I give my word that I will, Felix.'
The two elder reluctantly left him and walked on taking their brother's knapsack to relieve him in following, and the youngest entered the field.
`This is a thousand pities,' he said gallantly, to two or three of the girls nearest him, as soon as there was a pause in the dance.
`Where are your partners, my dears?'
`They've not left off work yet,' answered one of the boldest.
