Clare had given his parents no warning of his visit, and his arrival stirred the atmosphere of the Vicarage as the dive of the kingfisher stirs a quiet pool.  His father and mother were both in the drawing-room, but neither of his brothers was now at home.  Angel entered, and closed the door quietly behind him.

“But—­where’s your wife, dear Angel?” cried his mother.  “How you surprise us!”

“She is at her mother’s—­temporarily.  I have come home rather in a hurry because I’ve decided to go to Brazil.”

“Brazil!  Why they are all Roman Catholics there surely!”

“Are they?  I hadn’t thought of that.”

But even the novelty and painfulness of his going to a Papistical land could not displace for long Mr and Mrs Clare’s natural interest in their son’s marriage.

“We had your brief note three weeks ago announcing that it had taken place,” said Mrs Clare, “and your father sent your godmother’s gift to her, as you know.  Of course it was best that none of us should be present, especially as you preferred to marry her from the dairy, and not at her home, wherever that may be.  It would have embarrassed you, and given us no pleasure.  Your bothers felt that very strongly.  Now it is done we do not complain, particularly if she suits you for the business you have chosen to follow instead of the ministry of the Gospel. ...  Yet I wish I could have seen her first, Angel, or have known a little more about her.  We sent her no present of our own, not knowing what would best give her pleasure, but you must suppose it only delayed.  Angel, there is no irritation in my mind or your father’s against you for this marriage; but we have thought it much better to reserve our liking for your wife till we could see her.  And now you have not brought her.  It seems strange.  What has happened?”

He replied that it had been thought best by them that she should to go her parents’ home for the present, whilst he came there.

“I don’t mind telling you, dear mother,” he said, “that I always meant to keep her away from this house till I should feel she could some with credit to you.  But this idea of Brazil is quite a recent one.  If I do go it will be unadvisable for me to take her on this my first journey.  She will remain at her mother’s till I come back.”

“And I shall not see her before you start?”

He was afraid they would not.  His original plan had been, as he had said, to refrain from bringing her there for some little while—­not to wound their prejudices—­feelings—­in any way; and for other reasons he had adhered to it.  He would have to visit home in the course of a year, if he went out at once; and it would be possible for them to see her before he started a second time—­with her.

A hastily prepared supper was brought in, and Clare made further exposition of his plans.  His mother’s disappointment at not seeing the bride still remained with her.  Clare’s late enthusiasm for Tess had infected her through her maternal sympathies, till she had almost fancied that a good thing could come out of Nazareth—­a charming woman out of Talbothays Dairy.  She watched her son as he ate.