e to marry her？ What would his mother and brothers say？ What would he himself say two years after the wedding？
As he rode into the village， he saw a group of young girls waiting outside the church． Walking quickly to join them was Miss Mercy Chant， only daughter of his father's neighbour．His parents quietly hoped Angel would marry Mercy one day． She was very good at giving Bible classes， but in Angel's mind was the face of the pretty milkmaid who hardly ever thought of God．
His family were delighted，though surprised，to see him．Angel was glad to be at home，and yet he did not feel so much part of the family as he used to． His father's religious belief was very strict， but he was a kind， honest man， and fond of his sons． However， he would have been shocked to know of the pagan pleasure in nature and pretty womanhood experienced by Angel． His mother shared his father's religious views and helped in his church work． His brothers seemed rather unimaginative and narrow…minded， although they were both well educated：they felt that anybody outside the Church or university could not be respected．
As he walked with his brothers， Angel felt that， however lucky they were to have a university education， neither of them really saw life as it was lived． They thought farming was a poor man's job， not suitable for a gentleman． Angel felt all the more determined to keep to his choice．
In the evening he spoke to his father alone after prayers． Mr Clare told his son he had been saving the money he would have spent on his university education for him． This encouraged Angel to ask his father what sort of wife a farmer needed．
‘A really Christian woman． Nothing else matters．For example，my neighbour Dr Chant…’
‘But isn't the main thing that she should be able to milk cows，churn good butter， value animals and direct farm workers？’
Mr Clare had clearly never thought of this before．
‘Yes，yes， certainly． But I was going to say that you will never find a purer woman than Mercy Chant． Your mother and I would be very happy if you…’
‘Yes，yes，Mercy is good， I know．But，father，don't you think that one who is just as good and pure，and who understands farm life as well as the farmer， would be much better？’
After much discussion Angel got down to details．He explained he had met a woman who was ideally suited to be a farmer's wife， who went to church reqularly， who was honest， sensitive， intelligent， graceful， pure as snow， and extremely beautiful．
‘Is she of a good family， like Mercy？’ asked his surprised mother， who had come in during the conversation．
‘She is not what we call a lady，’ said Angel firmly．‘ She is a cottager's daughter．What's the advantage of good family to me？ My wife will have to work hard and manage with very little money．’
‘Mercy is educated． That has its charm，’ said his mother，looking at him through her silver glasses．
‘I shall help her with her reading． She will learn fast． She's full of poetry， real poetry． She lives what poets only write．And she is a good Christian girl． I'm sure you'll value her for that．’
His parents already doubted Angel's religious belief， so they were almost relieved to hear this of his future wife． They told him not to act in a hurry， but they would like to see her．Although Angel was free to marry or not as he wished， he did not want to hurt his parents， and he accepted their advice．
As he set off to return to the dairy and Tess， his father rode with him a little way． Mr Clare was telling his son about the new d’Urberville family who had taken the ancient name and lived near Trantridge． There was a young man and his blind mother． Preaching in the church there one day， Mr Clare had spoken out bravely against the well…known wickedness of young d’Urberville， who， after this， had publicly insulted him when they met later．
Angel was angry with d’Urberville．Dear father，you should not let yourself be insulted like that！’
‘It doesn't matter to me． I have a duty to point out where people go wrong． Often men have hit me， but then at least they haven't hit their families． And they live to thank me， and praise God．’
‘I hope this young man does the same！’ said Angel warmly．‘But it doesn't seem likely．’
‘We'll hope anyway，’said Mr Clare．‘Maybe one of my words may grow like a seed in his heart one day．’
Angel could not accept his father's narrow religious beliefs，but he loved him for his courage． He remembered that his father had not once asked whether Tess had money or not．This lack of interest in money meant that all the brothers would probably be poor for ever， but Angel still admired his father's belief that money was not important．
When he returned to the dairy，in the sleepy afternoon heat， nobody was awake． Getting up so early in the morning meant the milkers really needed a sleep before the afternoon milking． It was three o’clock， time for skimming．There was a slight noise upstairs，then Tess appeared before his eyes．She did not see him， and stretched one arm up above her head．She yawned like a cat and he saw the red inside of her mouth． Her whole soul breathed out physical beauty． Then her eyes flashed as she recognized him．
‘Oh Mr Clar！ How you frightened me—I…’she said，looking glad， shy and surprised at the same time．
Clare stepped forward to put his arms round her．
‘Dear， darling Tessy！’he whispered， putting his face to her warm cheek．‘Don't call me Mr Clare any more！ I've hurried back because of you！’
They stood holding each other， the sun warming them through the window He looked deep into her eyes of blue and black and grey． She looked at him as Eve must have looked at Adam．
‘I must go skimming，’she said Together they went to the milk…house．
Perhaps the Talbothays milk was not very well skimmed that afternoon． Tess was in a dream as she skimmed．The heat of his love made her feel like a plant under a burning sun．
‘Theres’ s something very practical that I want to ask you，’he said gently．‘I shall sonn want to marry． Being a farmer， I need a wife who knows all about farms． Will you be that woman， Tessy？’
She looked quite worried．She had accepted that she could not help loving him， but she had not expected this result．With bitter pain she replied as she had promised herself she would．
‘Oh Mr Clare—I cannot be your wife… I cannot be！’The sound of these words seemed to break her very heart．
‘But Tess！’he said， amazed at her answer and holding her still closer．‘Surely you love me？’
‘Oh yes， yes！ And I would rather be yours than anybody's in the whole world！ But I cannot marry you！’cried the sweet and honest voice miserably．
‘Tess， have， you agreed to marry someone else？’
‘No， no！’
‘Then why do you refuse me？’
‘Your father is a parson， and your mother will want you to marry a lady，’said poor Tess， desperately trying to find an excuse．
‘No， certainly not， that's why I went home， to talk to them both．’
‘I feel I cannot—never， never！’
‘Is it too sudden， my p