“O Tessy!” he exclaimed.

The girl’s cheeks burned to the breeze, and she could not look into his eyes for her emotion.  It reminded Angel that he was somewhat unfairly taking advantage of an accidental position; and he went no further with it.  No definite words of love had crossed their lips as yet, and suspension at this point was desirable now.  However, he walked slowly, to make the remainder of the distance as long as possible; but at last they came to the bend, and the rest of their progress was in full view of the other three.  The dry land was reached, and he set her down.

Her friends were looking with round thoughtful eyes at her and him, and she could see that they had been talking of her.  He hastily bade them farewell, and splashed back along the stretch of submerged road.

The four moved on together as before, till Marian broke the silence by saying—­

“No—­in all truth; we have no chance against her!” She looked joylessly at Tess.

“What do you mean?” asked the latter.

“He likes ’ee best—­the very best!  We could see it as he brought ’ee.  He would have kissed ’ee, if you had encouraged him to do it, ever so little.”

“No, no,” said she.

The gaiety with which they had set out had somehow vanished; and yet there was no enmity or malice between them.  They were generous young souls; they had been reared in the lonely country nooks where fatalism is a strong sentiment, and they did not blame her.  Such supplanting was to be.

Tess’s heart ached.  There was no concealing from herself the fact that she loved Angel Clare, perhaps all the more passionately from knowing that the others had also lost their hearts to him.  There is contagion in this sentiment, especially among women.  And yet that same hungry nature had fought against this, but too feebly, and the natural result had followed.

“I will never stand in your way, nor in the way of either of you!” she declared to Retty that night in the bedroom (her tears running down).  “I can’t help this, my dear!  I don’t think marrying is in his mind at all; but if he were ever to ask me I should refuse him, as I should refuse any man.”

“Oh! would you?  Why?” said wondering Retty.

“It cannot be!  But I will be plain.  Putting myself quite on one side, I don’t think he will choose either of you.”

“I have never expected it—­thought of it!” moaned Retty.  “But O!  I wish I was dead!”

The poor child, torn by a feeling which she hardly understood, turned to the other two girls who came upstairs just then.

“We be friends with her again,” she said to them.  “She thinks no more of his choosing her than we do.”

So the reserve went off, and they were confiding and warm.

“I don’t seem to care what I do now,” said Marian, whose mood was turned to its lowest bass.  “I was going to marry a dairyman at Stickleford, who’s asked me twice; but—­my soul—­I would put an end to myself rather’n be his wife now!  Why don’t ye speak, Izz?”