VivldArc/VISTA · Datasets at Hugging Face

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" I may have . "
" Then what might your meaning be in calling me ' Sir John ' these different times , when I be plain Jack Durbeyfield , the haggler ? "
The parson rode a step or two nearer .
" It was only my whim , " he said ; and , after a moment 's hesitation : " It was on account of a discovery I made some little time ago , whilst I was hunting up pedigrees for the new county history .
I am Parson Tringham , the antiquary , of Stagfoot Lane .
Do n't you really know , Durbeyfield , that you are the lineal representative of the ancient and knightly family of the d'Urbervilles , who derive their descent from Sir Pagan d'Urberville , that renowned knight who came from Normandy with William the Conqueror , as appears by Battle Abbey Roll ? "
" Never heard it before , sir ! "
" Well it 's true .
Throw up your chin a moment , so that I may catch the profile of your face better .
Yes , that 's the d'Urberville nose and chin -- a little debased .
Your ancestor was one of the twelve knights who assisted the Lord of Estremavilla in Normandy in his conquest of Glamorganshire .
Branches of your family held manors over all this part of England ; their names appear in the Pipe Rolls in the time of King Stephen .
In the reign of King John one of them was rich enough to give a manor to the Knights Hospitallers ; and in Edward the Second 's time your forefather Brian was summoned to Westminster to attend the great Council there .
You declined a little in Oliver Cromwell 's time , but to no serious extent , and in Charles the Second 's reign you were made Knights of the Royal Oak for your loyalty .
Aye , there have been generations of Sir Johns among you , and if knighthood were hereditary , like a baronetcy , as it practically was in old times , when men were knighted from father to son , you would be Sir John now . "
" Ye do n't say so ! "
" In short , " concluded the parson , decisively smacking his leg with his switch , " there 's hardly such another family in England . "
" Daze my eyes , and is n't there ? "
said Durbeyfield .
" And here have I been knocking about , year after year , from pillar to post , as if I was no more than the commonest feller in the parish ... And how long hev this news about me been knowed , Pa ' son Tringham ? "
The clergyman explained that , as far as he was aware , it had quite died out of knowledge , and could hardly be said to be known at all .
His own investigations had begun on a day in the preceding spring when , having been engaged in tracing the vicissitudes of the d'Urberville family , he had observed Durbeyfield 's name on his waggon , and had thereupon been led to make inquiries about his father and grandfather till he had no doubt on the subject .
" At first I resolved not to disturb you with such a useless piece of information , " said he .
" However , our impulses are too strong for our judgement sometimes .
I thought you might perhaps know something of it all the while . "
" Well , I have heard once or twice , 't is true , that my family had seen better days afore they came to Blackmoor .
But I took no notice o ' t , thinking it to mean that we had once kept two horses where we now keep only one .
I 've got a wold silver spoon , and a wold graven seal at home , too ; but , Lord , what 's a spoon and seal ?
... And to think that I and these noble d'Urbervilles were one flesh all the time .
'T was said that my gr ' t-granfer had secrets , and did n't care to talk of where he came from ... And where do we raise our smoke , now , parson , if I may make so bold ; I mean , where do we d'Urbervilles live ? "
" You do n't live anywhere .
You are extinct -- as a county family . "
" That 's bad . "
" Yes -- what the mendacious family chronicles call extinct in the male line -- that is , gone down -- gone under . "
" Then where do we lie ? "
" At Kingsbere-sub-Greenhill : rows and rows of you in your vaults , with your effigies under Purbeck-marble canopies . "
" And where be our family mansions and estates ? "
" You have n't any . "
" Oh ?
No lands neither ? "
" None ; though you once had 'em in abundance , as I said , for you family consisted of numerous branches .
In this county there was a seat of yours at Kingsbere , and another at Sherton , and another in Millpond , and another at Lullstead , and another at Wellbridge . "
" And shall we ever come into our own again ? "
" Ah -- that I ca n't tell ! "
" And what had I better do about it , sir ? "
asked Durbeyfield , after a pause .
" Oh -- nothing , nothing ; except chasten yourself with the thought of ' how are the mighty fallen . '
It is a fact of some interest to the local historian and genealogist , nothing more .
There are several families among the cottagers of this county of almost equal lustre .
Good night . "
" But you 'll turn back and have a quart of beer wi ' me on the strength o ' t , Pa ' son Tringham ?
There 's a very pretty brew in tap at The Pure Drop -- though , to be sure , not so good as at Rolliver 's . "
" No , thank you -- not this evening , Durbeyfield .
You 've had enough already . "
Concluding thus , the parson rode on his way , with doubts as to his discretion in retailing this curious bit of lore .
When he was gone , Durbeyfield walked a few steps in a profound reverie , and then sat down upon the grassy bank by the roadside , depositing his basket before him .
In a few minutes a youth appeared in the distance , walking in the same direction as that which had been pursued by Durbeyfield .
The latter , on seeing him , held up his hand , and the lad quickened his pace and came near .
" Boy , take up that basket !
I want ' ee to go on an errand for me . "
The lath-like stripling frowned .
" Who be you , then , John Durbeyfield , to order me about and call me ' boy ' ?
You know my name as well as I know yours ! "
" Do you , do you ?
That 's the secret -- that 's the secret !
Now obey my orders , and take the message I 'm going to charge ' ee wi ' ... Well , Fred , I do n't mind telling you that the secret is that I 'm one of a noble race -- it has been just found out by me this present afternoon , P.M. " And as he made the announcement , Durbeyfield , declining from his sitting position , luxuriously stretched himself out upon the bank among the daisies .
The lad stood before Durbeyfield , and contemplated his length from crown to toe .
" Sir John d'Urberville -- that 's who I am , " continued the prostrate man .
" That is if knights were baronets -- which they be .
'T is recorded in history all about me .
Dost know of such a place , lad , as Kingsbere-sub-Greenhill ? "
" Ees .
I 've been there to Greenhill Fair . "
" Well , under the church of that city there lie -- " " 'T is n't a city , the place I mean ; leastwise ' twaddn ' when I was there -- 't was a little one-eyed , blinking sort o ' place . "
" Never you mind the place , boy , that 's not the question before us .
Under the church of that there parish lie my ancestors -- hundreds of 'em -- in coats of mail and jewels , in gr ' t lead coffins weighing tons and tons .
There 's not a man in the county o ' South-Wessex that 's got grander and nobler skillentons in his family than I. " " Oh ? "
" Now take up that basket , and goo on to Marlott , and when you 've come to The Pure Drop Inn , tell 'em to send a horse and carriage to me immed ' ately , to carry me hwome .
And in the bottom o ' the carriage they be to put a noggin o ' rum in a small bottle , and chalk it up to my account .
And when you 've done that goo on to my house with the basket , and tell my wife to put away that washing , because she need n't finish it , and wait till I come hwome , as I 've news to tell her . "
As the lad stood in a dubious attitude , Durbeyfield put his hand in his pocket , and produced a shilling , one of the chronically few that he possessed .
" Here 's for your labour , lad . "
This made a difference in the young man 's estimate of the position .
CHAPTER I THERE IS NO ONE LEFT When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen .
It was true , too .
She had a little thin face and a little thin body , thin light hair and a sour expression .
Her hair was yellow , and her face was yellow because she had been born in India and had always been ill in one way or another .
Her father had held a position under the English Government and had always been busy and ill himself , and her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay people .
She had not wanted a little girl at all , and when Mary was born she handed her over to the care of an Ayah , who was made to understand that if she wished to please the Mem Sahib she must keep the child out of sight as much as possible .
So when she was a sickly , fretful , ugly little baby she was kept out of the way , and when she became a sickly , fretful , toddling thing she was kept out of the way also .
She never remembered seeing familiarly anything but the dark faces of her Ayah and the other native servants , and as they always obeyed her and gave her her own way in everything , because the Mem Sahib would be angry if she was disturbed by her crying , by the time she was six years old she was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived .
The young English governess who came to teach her to read and write disliked her so much that she gave up her place in three months , and when other governesses came to try to fill it they always went away in a shorter time than the first one .
So if Mary had not chosen to really want to know how to read books she would never have learned her letters at all .
One frightfully hot morning , when she was about nine years old , she awakened feeling very cross , and she became crosser still when she saw that the servant who stood by her bedside was not her Ayah .
" Why did you come ? " she said to the strange woman .
" I will not let you stay .
Send my Ayah to me . "
The woman looked frightened , but she only stammered that the Ayah could not come and when Mary threw herself into a passion and beat and kicked her , she looked only more frightened and repeated that it was not possible for the Ayah to come to Missie Sahib .
There was something mysterious in the air that morning .
Nothing was done in its regular order and several of the native servants seemed missing , while those whom Mary saw slunk or hurried about with ashy and scared faces .

" I may have . "

" Then what might your meaning be in calling me ' Sir John ' these different times , when I be plain Jack Durbeyfield , the haggler ? "

The parson rode a step or two nearer .

" It was only my whim , " he said ; and , after a moment 's hesitation : " It was on account of a discovery I made some little time ago , whilst I was hunting up pedigrees for the new county history .

I am Parson Tringham , the antiquary , of Stagfoot Lane .

Do n't you really know , Durbeyfield , that you are the lineal representative of the ancient and knightly family of the d'Urbervilles , who derive their descent from Sir Pagan d'Urberville , that renowned knight who came from Normandy with William the Conqueror , as appears by Battle Abbey Roll ? "

" Never heard it before , sir ! "

" Well it 's true .

Throw up your chin a moment , so that I may catch the profile of your face better .

Yes , that 's the d'Urberville nose and chin -- a little debased .

Your ancestor was one of the twelve knights who assisted the Lord of Estremavilla in Normandy in his conquest of Glamorganshire .

Branches of your family held manors over all this part of England ; their names appear in the Pipe Rolls in the time of King Stephen .

In the reign of King John one of them was rich enough to give a manor to the Knights Hospitallers ; and in Edward the Second 's time your forefather Brian was summoned to Westminster to attend the great Council there .

You declined a little in Oliver Cromwell 's time , but to no serious extent , and in Charles the Second 's reign you were made Knights of the Royal Oak for your loyalty .

Aye , there have been generations of Sir Johns among you , and if knighthood were hereditary , like a baronetcy , as it practically was in old times , when men were knighted from father to son , you would be Sir John now . "

" Ye do n't say so ! "

" In short , " concluded the parson , decisively smacking his leg with his switch , " there 's hardly such another family in England . "

" Daze my eyes , and is n't there ? "

said Durbeyfield .

" And here have I been knocking about , year after year , from pillar to post , as if I was no more than the commonest feller in the parish ... And how long hev this news about me been knowed , Pa ' son Tringham ? "

The clergyman explained that , as far as he was aware , it had quite died out of knowledge , and could hardly be said to be known at all .

His own investigations had begun on a day in the preceding spring when , having been engaged in tracing the vicissitudes of the d'Urberville family , he had observed Durbeyfield 's name on his waggon , and had thereupon been led to make inquiries about his father and grandfather till he had no doubt on the subject .

" At first I resolved not to disturb you with such a useless piece of information , " said he .

" However , our impulses are too strong for our judgement sometimes .

I thought you might perhaps know something of it all the while . "

" Well , I have heard once or twice , 't is true , that my family had seen better days afore they came to Blackmoor .

But I took no notice o ' t , thinking it to mean that we had once kept two horses where we now keep only one .

I 've got a wold silver spoon , and a wold graven seal at home , too ; but , Lord , what 's a spoon and seal ?

... And to think that I and these noble d'Urbervilles were one flesh all the time .

'T was said that my gr ' t-granfer had secrets , and did n't care to talk of where he came from ... And where do we raise our smoke , now , parson , if I may make so bold ; I mean , where do we d'Urbervilles live ? "

" You do n't live anywhere .

You are extinct -- as a county family . "

" That 's bad . "

" Yes -- what the mendacious family chronicles call extinct in the male line -- that is , gone down -- gone under . "

" Then where do we lie ? "

" At Kingsbere-sub-Greenhill : rows and rows of you in your vaults , with your effigies under Purbeck-marble canopies . "

" And where be our family mansions and estates ? "

" You have n't any . "

" Oh ?

No lands neither ? "

" None ; though you once had 'em in abundance , as I said , for you family consisted of numerous branches .

In this county there was a seat of yours at Kingsbere , and another at Sherton , and another in Millpond , and another at Lullstead , and another at Wellbridge . "

" And shall we ever come into our own again ? "

" Ah -- that I ca n't tell ! "

" And what had I better do about it , sir ? "

asked Durbeyfield , after a pause .

" Oh -- nothing , nothing ; except chasten yourself with the thought of ' how are the mighty fallen . '

It is a fact of some interest to the local historian and genealogist , nothing more .

There are several families among the cottagers of this county of almost equal lustre .

Good night . "

" But you 'll turn back and have a quart of beer wi ' me on the strength o ' t , Pa ' son Tringham ?

There 's a very pretty brew in tap at The Pure Drop -- though , to be sure , not so good as at Rolliver 's . "

" No , thank you -- not this evening , Durbeyfield .

You 've had enough already . "

Concluding thus , the parson rode on his way , with doubts as to his discretion in retailing this curious bit of lore .

When he was gone , Durbeyfield walked a few steps in a profound reverie , and then sat down upon the grassy bank by the roadside , depositing his basket before him .

In a few minutes a youth appeared in the distance , walking in the same direction as that which had been pursued by Durbeyfield .

The latter , on seeing him , held up his hand , and the lad quickened his pace and came near .

" Boy , take up that basket !

I want ' ee to go on an errand for me . "

The lath-like stripling frowned .

" Who be you , then , John Durbeyfield , to order me about and call me ' boy ' ?

You know my name as well as I know yours ! "

" Do you , do you ?

That 's the secret -- that 's the secret !

Now obey my orders , and take the message I 'm going to charge ' ee wi ' ... Well , Fred , I do n't mind telling you that the secret is that I 'm one of a noble race -- it has been just found out by me this present afternoon , P.M. " And as he made the announcement , Durbeyfield , declining from his sitting position , luxuriously stretched himself out upon the bank among the daisies .

The lad stood before Durbeyfield , and contemplated his length from crown to toe .

" Sir John d'Urberville -- that 's who I am , " continued the prostrate man .

" That is if knights were baronets -- which they be .

'T is recorded in history all about me .

Dost know of such a place , lad , as Kingsbere-sub-Greenhill ? "

" Ees .

I 've been there to Greenhill Fair . "

" Well , under the church of that city there lie -- " " 'T is n't a city , the place I mean ; leastwise ' twaddn ' when I was there -- 't was a little one-eyed , blinking sort o ' place . "

" Never you mind the place , boy , that 's not the question before us .

Under the church of that there parish lie my ancestors -- hundreds of 'em -- in coats of mail and jewels , in gr ' t lead coffins weighing tons and tons .

There 's not a man in the county o ' South-Wessex that 's got grander and nobler skillentons in his family than I. " " Oh ? "

" Now take up that basket , and goo on to Marlott , and when you 've come to The Pure Drop Inn , tell 'em to send a horse and carriage to me immed ' ately , to carry me hwome .

And in the bottom o ' the carriage they be to put a noggin o ' rum in a small bottle , and chalk it up to my account .

And when you 've done that goo on to my house with the basket , and tell my wife to put away that washing , because she need n't finish it , and wait till I come hwome , as I 've news to tell her . "

As the lad stood in a dubious attitude , Durbeyfield put his hand in his pocket , and produced a shilling , one of the chronically few that he possessed .

" Here 's for your labour , lad . "

This made a difference in the young man 's estimate of the position .

CHAPTER I THERE IS NO ONE LEFT When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen .

It was true , too .

She had a little thin face and a little thin body , thin light hair and a sour expression .

Her hair was yellow , and her face was yellow because she had been born in India and had always been ill in one way or another .

Her father had held a position under the English Government and had always been busy and ill himself , and her mother had been a great beauty who cared only to go to parties and amuse herself with gay people .

She had not wanted a little girl at all , and when Mary was born she handed her over to the care of an Ayah , who was made to understand that if she wished to please the Mem Sahib she must keep the child out of sight as much as possible .

So when she was a sickly , fretful , ugly little baby she was kept out of the way , and when she became a sickly , fretful , toddling thing she was kept out of the way also .

She never remembered seeing familiarly anything but the dark faces of her Ayah and the other native servants , and as they always obeyed her and gave her her own way in everything , because the Mem Sahib would be angry if she was disturbed by her crying , by the time she was six years old she was as tyrannical and selfish a little pig as ever lived .

The young English governess who came to teach her to read and write disliked her so much that she gave up her place in three months , and when other governesses came to try to fill it they always went away in a shorter time than the first one .

So if Mary had not chosen to really want to know how to read books she would never have learned her letters at all .

One frightfully hot morning , when she was about nine years old , she awakened feeling very cross , and she became crosser still when she saw that the servant who stood by her bedside was not her Ayah .

" Why did you come ? " she said to the strange woman .

" I will not let you stay .

Send my Ayah to me . "

The woman looked frightened , but she only stammered that the Ayah could not come and when Mary threw herself into a passion and beat and kicked her , she looked only more frightened and repeated that it was not possible for the Ayah to come to Missie Sahib .

There was something mysterious in the air that morning .

Nothing was done in its regular order and several of the native servants seemed missing , while those whom Mary saw slunk or hurried about with ashy and scared faces .