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His father, too, was shocked to see him, so reduced was that figure from its former contours by worry and the bad season that Clare had experienced, in the climate to which he had so rashly hurried in his first aversion to the mockery of events at home.You could see the skeleton behind the man, and almost the ghost behind the skeleton.He matched Crivelli's dead Christus.His sunken eye-pits were of morbid hue, and the light in his eyes had waned.The angular hollows and lines of his aged ancestors had succeeded to their reign in his face twenty years before their time.

`I was ill over there, you know,' he said.`I am all right now.'

As if, however, to falsify this assertion, his legs seemed to give way, and he suddenly sat down to save himself from falling.It was only a slight attack of faintness, resulting from the tedious day's journey, and the excitement of arrival.

`Has any letter come for me lately?' he asked.`I received the last you sent on by the merest chance, and after considerable delay through being inland; or I might have come sooner.'

`It was from your wife, we supposed?'

`It was.'

Only one other had recently come.They had not sent it on to him, knowing he would start for home so soon.

He hastily opened the letter produced, and was much disturbed to read in Tess's handwriting the sentiments expressed in her last hurried scrawl to him.O why have you treated me so monstrously, Angel! I do not deserve it.I have thought it all over carefully, and I can never, never forgive you! You know that I did not intend to wrong you - why have you so wronged me? You are cruel, cruel indeed! I will try to forget you.It is all injustice I have received at your hands.T.`It is quite true!' said Angel, throwing down the letter.`Perhaps she will never be reconciled to me!'

`Don't, Angel, be so anxious about a mere child of the soil!' said his mother.

Child of the soil! Well, we all are children of the soil.I wish she were so in the sense you mean; but let me now explain to you what I have never explained before, that her father is a descendant in the male line of one of the oldest Norman houses, like a good many others who lead obscure agricultural lives in our villages, and are dubbed "sons of the soil".'

He soon retired to bed; and the next morning, feeling exceedingly unwell, he remained in his room pondering.The circumstances amid which he had left Tess were such that though, while on the south of the Equator and just in receipt of her loving epistle, it had seemed the easiest thing in the world to rush back into her arms the moment he chose to forgive her, now that he had arrived it was not so easy as it had seemed.She was passionate, and her present letter, showing that her estimate of him had changed under his delay - too justly changed, he sadly owned, - made him ask himself if it would be wise to confront her unannounced in the presence of her parents.Supposing that her love had indeed turned to dislike during the last weeks of separation, a sudden meeting might lead to bitter words.

Clare therefore thought it would be best to prepare Tess and her family by sending a line to Marlott announcing his return, and his hope that she was still living with them there, as he had arranged for her to do when he left England.He despatched the inquiry that very day, and before the week was out there came a short reply from Mrs Durbeyfield which did not remove his embarrassment, for it bore no address, though to his surprise it was not written from Marlott.SIR I write these few lines to say that my Daughter is away from me at present, and I am not sure when she will return, but I will let you know as Soon as she do.I do not feel at liberty to tell you Where she is temperly biding.I should say that me and my Family have left Marlott for some Time.

Yours, J.DURBEYFIELD.It was such a relief to Clare to learn that Tess was at least apparently well that her mother's stiff reticence as to her whereabouts did not long distress him.They were all angry with him, evidently.He would wait till Mrs Durbeyfield could inform him of Tess's return, which her letter implied to be soon.He deserved no more.His had been a love `which alters when it alteration finds'.He had undergone some strange experiences in his absence; he had seen the virtual Faustina in the literal Cornelia, a spiritual Lucretia in a corporeal Phryne; he had thought of the woman taken and set in the midst as one deserving to be stoned, and of the wife of Uriah being made a queen; and he had asked himself why he had not judged Tess constructively rather than biographically, by the will rather than by the deed?

A day or two passed while he waited at his father's house for the promised second note from Joan Durbeyfield, and indirectly to recover a little more strength.The strength showed signs of coming back, but there was no sign of Joan's letter.Then he hunted up the old letter sent on to him in Brazil, which Tess had written from Flintcomb-Ash, and re-read it.The sentences touched him now as much as when he had first perused them.I must cry to you in my trouble - I have no one else....Ithink I must die if you do not come soon, or tell me to come to you...