When she entered the house she perceived in a moment from her mother's triumphant manner that something had occurred in the interim.
“Oh yes； I know all about it！I to ld'ee it would be all right， and now'tis proved！”
“Since I've been away？What has？”said Tess rather wearily.
Her mother surveyed the girl up and down with arch approv al， and went on banteringly：“So you've brought'em round！”
“How do you know， mother？”
“I've had a letter.”
Tess then remembered that there would have been time for this.
“They say—Mrs， d'Urberville s ays—that she wants y ou to look af ter a little fowl-f arm which is her hobb y.But this is only he r artfu l wa y of getting'ee there withou t raising your hopes.She's going to own'ee as k in—that's the meaning o't.”
“But I didn't see her.”
“You zid somebody， I suppose？”
“I saw her son.”
“And did he own'ee？”
“Well—he called me Coz.”
“An'I knew it！Jacky—he called her Coz！”cried Joan to her husband.“Well， he spoke to his mother， of course； and she do want'ee there.”
“But I don't know that I am apt at tending fowls， ”said the dubious Tess.
“Then I don't know wh o is apt.You've be'n born in the b usiness， and brought up in it.Th ey that be born in a bus iness always know more about it than any'prentice.Besides， that's only just a show of something for you to do， that you midn't feel beholden.”
“I don't alto gether think I ought to go， ”said Tess thoughtfu lly.“Who wrote the letter？Will you let me look at it？”
“Mrs.d'Urberville wrote it.Here it is.”
The letter was in the third person， an d briefly informed Mrs.Durbey field that her daughter's services would be useful to that lady in the managemen t of her poultry-farm， th at a comfortable roo m would be provided for her if she could come， and that the wages would be on a liberal scale if they liked her.
“Oh—that's all！”said Tess.
“You couldn't expect her to throw her ar ms round'ee， an'to kiss and to coll'ee all at once.”
Tess looked out of the window.
“I would rather stay here with father and you， ”she said.
“But why？”
“I'd rather not tell you why， mother； indeed， I don't quite know why.”
A week afterwards she came in one evening from an unavailing search for some light occupation in the immed iate neighbourhood.Her idea had been to get tog ether suffici ent money durin g the su mmer to purch ase another h orse.Hardly had she crossed the thresho ld before one of the children danced across the room， saying， “The gentleman's been here！”
Her mother hastened to explain， smiles breaking from every inch of her person.Mrs.d'Urberville's son had called on horseback， having been riding by chance in the direction of Marlott.He had wished to know， finally， in the name of his mother， if Tess could really come to manage the old lady's fowl-farm or not； the lad who had hith erto superin tended the b irds having pr oved untrustworthy.“Mr.d'Urberville says you must be a good g irl if you are at all as you appear； he knows y ou must be worth your weight in gold.He is very much interested in'ee—truth to tell.”
Tess seemed for the moment really pleased to hear that she had won such high opinion from a stranger when， in her own esteem， she had sunk so low.
“It is v ery good of him to th ink that， ”she murmured； “and if I was quite sure how it would be living there， I would go any-when.”
“He is a mighty handsome man！”
“I don't think so， ”said Tess coldly.
“Well there's y our chan ce， whe ther or no； and I'm sure h e wears a beautiful diamond ring！”
“Yes， ”said little Abraham， brightly， from the windowbench； “and I seed it！and it did twinkle when he put his hand up to his mistarshers.Mother， why did our grand relation keep on putting his hand up to his mistarshers？”
“Hark at that child！”cried Mrs.Durbeyfield， with parenthetic admiration.
“Perhaps to show his diam ond ring， ”murmured Sir John， dreamily， fromhis chair.
“I'll think it over， ”said Tess， leaving the room.
“Well， she's made a con quest o'the younger branch of us， straigh t off， ”continued the matron to her husband， “and she's a fool if she don't follow it up.”
“I don't quite like my children going away from home， ”said the haggler.“As the head of the family， the rest ought to come to me.”
“But do let h er go， Jacky， ”coaxed his poor witless wife.“He's struck wi'her—you can see that.He called her Coz！He'll marry her， most likely， and make a lady of her； and then she'll be what her forefathers was.”
John Durbey field had m ore conceit than en ergy or health， and th is supposition was pleasant to him.
“Well， perhaps， that's what young Mr.d'Urberville means， ”he ad mitted； “and sure en ough he mid have serio us thoughts about improving his blood by linking on to the old line.Tess， the little rogue！And have she really paid'em a visit to such an end as this？”
Meanwhile Tess was walking thoughtfully among the gooseberrybushes in the gerden， and over Prince's grave.When she came in her mother pursued her advantage.
“Well， what be you going to do？”she asked.
“I wish I had seen Mrs.d'Urberville， ”said Tess.
“I think you mid as well settle it.Then you'll see her soon enough.”
Her father coughed in his chair.
“I don't know what to say！”answered the gir l restlessly.“It is for y ou to decide.I killed the old horse， and I suppose I ought to do something to get ye a new one.But—but—I don't quite like Mr.d'Urberville being there！”
The children， who had made use of this idea of Tess being taken up by their wealthy kinsfolk（which they imagined the other family to be）as a species of dolorifuge after the death of the horse， began to cry at Tess's reluctance， and teased and reproached her for hesitating.
“Tess won't go—o—o and be made a la—a—dy o f！—no， she say s she wo-o-on't！”they wailed， with square mouths.“And we shan't have a nice new horse， and lots o'golden money to buy fairlings！And Tess won't look pretty in her best cloze no mo—o—ore！”
Her mother chimed in to the sa me tune：a cer tain way she had of m aking her labours in th e house seem h eavier than th ey were by prolonging th emindefinitely， also weigh ed in the ar gument.Her father a lone preserved an attitude of neutrality.
“I will go， ”said Tess at last.
Her m other could not r epress her co nsciousness of the nuptial Vision conjured up by the girl's consent.
“That's right！For such a pretty maid as'tis， this is a fine chance！”
Tess smiled crossly.
“I hope it is a chance for earning money.It is no other kind of chance.You had better say nothing of that silly sort about parish.”
Mrs.Durbeytield did n ot promise.She was not quite sure that s he did not feel proud enough， after the visitor's remarks， to say a good deal.
Thus it was arranged； and the young girl wrote， agreeing to be ready to set out on any day on which she might be required.She was duly informed that Mrs.d'Urberville was g lad of her de cision， and that a spring-cart should be sent to meet her and her luggage at the top of the Vale on the day after the morrow， when she m ust hold herself prepared to start.Mrs.d'Urberville's handwriting seemed rather masculine.
“A cart？”murmured Joan Durbey field doubtingly.“It might have been a carriage for her own kin！”