This was the only wail with which Mrs Clare ever disturbed her

husband's peace in respect to their sons. And she did not vent this

often; for she was as considerate as she was devout, and knew that

his mind too was troubled by doubts as to his justice in this matter.

Only too often had she heard him lying awake at night, stifling sighs

for Angel with prayers. But the uncompromising Evangelical did not

even now hold that he would have been justified in giving his son,

an unbeliever, the same academic advantages that he had given to the

two others, when it was possible, if not probable, that those very

advantages might have been used to decry the doctrines which he had

made it his life's mission and desire to propagate, and the mission

of his ordained sons likewise. To put with one hand a pedestal

under the feet of the two faithful ones, and with the other to exalt

the unfaithful by the same artificial means, he deemed to be alike

inconsistent with his convictions, his position, and his hopes.

Nevertheless, he loved his misnamed Angel, and in secret mourned

over this treatment of him as Abraham might have mourned over the

doomed Isaac while they went up the hill together. His silent

self-generated regrets were far bitterer than the reproaches which

his wife rendered audible.

They blamed themselves for this unlucky marriage. If Angel had never

been destined for a farmer he would never have been thrown with

agricultural girls. They did not distinctly know what had separated

him and his wife, nor the date on which the separation had taken

place. At first they had supposed it must be something of the nature

of a serious aversion. But in his later letters he occasionally

alluded to the intention of coming home to fetch her; from which

expressions they hoped the division might not owe its origin to

anything so hopelessly permanent as that. He had told them that she

was with her relatives, and in their doubts they had decided not to

intrude into a situation which they knew no way of bettering.

The eyes for which Tess's letter was intended were gazing at this

time on a limitless expanse of country from the back of a mule which

was bearing him from the interior of the South-American Continent

towards the coast. His experiences of this strange land had been

sad. The severe illness from which he had suffered shortly after

his arrival had never wholly left him, and he had by degrees almost

decided to relinquish his hope of farming here, though, as long as

the bare possibility existed of his remaining, he kept this change

of view a secret from his parents.




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