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of blue, and black, and gray, and violet, while she regarded him as Eve at her second waking might have regarded Adam.

‘I’ve got to go a-skimming,’ she pleaded, ‘and I have on’y old Deb to help me to-day. Mrs. Crick is gone to market wi’ Mr. Crick, and Ketty is not well, and the others are gone out somewhere, and won’t be home till milking.’

As they retreated to the milk-house Deborah Fyander appeared on the stairs.

‘I have come back, Deborah,’ said Mr. Clare, upwards, ‘So I can help Tess with the skimming; and, as you are very tired, I am sure, you needn’t come down till milking-time.’

Possibly the Talbothays milk was not very thoroughly skimmed that afternoon. Tess was in a dream wherein familiar objects appeared as having light and shade and position, but no particular outline. Every time she held the skimmer under the pump to cool it for the work her hand trembled, the ardour of his affection being so palpable that she seemed to flinch under it like a plant in too burning a sun.

Then he pressed her again to his side, and when she had done running her forefinger round