make them comfortable just then, she walked about the churchyard, now beginning to be embrowned by the shades of nightfall. The door of the church was unfastened, and she entered it for the first time in her life.
Within the window under which the bedstead stood were the tombs of the family, covering in their dates several centuries. They were canopied, altar-shaped, and plain; their carvings being defaced and broken; their brasses torn from the matrices, the rivet-holes remaining like marten-holes in a sand-cliff. Of all the reminders that she had ever received that her people were socially extinct there was none so forcible as this spoliation.
She drew near to a dark stone on which was inscribed :
Ostium sepulchri antiquæ familiæ D'Urberville.
Tess did not read Church-Latin like a Cardinal,
but she knew that this was the door of her ancestral
sepulchre, and that the tall knights of whom her
father had chanted in his cups lay inside.
She musingly turned to withdraw, passing near
