“Here he comes,” she murmured, and they could hear that her lips were dry with emotion.  “And I have to put my arms round his neck and look into his face as Marian did.”

“There’s nothing in that,” said Tess quickly.

“There’s a time for everything,” continued Izz, unheeding.  “A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; the first is now going to be mine.”

“Fie—­it is Scripture, Izz!”

“Yes,” said Izz, “I’ve always a’ ear at church for pretty verses.”

Angel Clare, to whom three-quarters of this performance was a commonplace act of kindness, now approached Izz.  She quietly and dreamily lowered herself into his arms, and Angel methodically marched off with her.  When he was heard returning for the third time Retty’s throbbing heart could be almost seen to shake her.  He went up to the red-haired girl, and while he was seizing her he glanced at Tess.  His lips could not have pronounced more plainly, “It will soon be you and I.”  Her comprehension appeared in her face; she could not help it.  There was an understanding between them.

Poor little Retty, though by far the lightest weight, was the most troublesome of Clare’s burdens.  Marian had been like a sack of meal, a dead weight of plumpness under which he has literally staggered.  Izz had ridden sensibly and calmly.  Retty was a bunch of hysterics.

However, he got through with the disquieted creature, deposited her, and returned.  Tess could see over the hedge the distant three in a group, standing as he had placed them on the next rising ground.  It was now her turn.  She was embarrassed to discover that excitement at the proximity of Mr Clare’s breath and eyes, which she had contemned in her companions, was intensified in herself; and as if fearful of betraying her secret, she paltered with him at the last moment.

“I may be able to clim’ along the bank perhaps—­I can clim’ better than they.  You must be so tired, Mr Clare!”

“No, no, Tess,” said he quickly.  And almost before she was aware, she was seated in his arms and resting against his shoulder.

“Three Leahs to get one Rachel,” he whispered.

“They are better women than I,” she replied, magnanimously sticking to her resolve.

“Not to me,” said Angel.

He saw her grow warm at this; and they went some steps in silence.

“I hope I am not too heavy?” she said timidly.

“O no.  You should lift Marian!  Such a lump.  You are like an undulating billow warmed by the sun.  And all this fluff of muslin about you is the froth.”

“It is very pretty—­if I seem like that to you.”

“Do you know that I have undergone three-quarters of this labour entirely for the sake of the fourth quarter?”

“No.”

“I did not expect such an event to-day.”

“Nor I...  The water came up so sudden.”

That the rise in the water was what she understood him to refer to, the state of breathing belied.  Clare stood still and inclinced his face towards hers.