Yet Jude was in danger of attaching more meaning to Sue's impulsive
note than it really was intended to bear.
After the lapse of a few days he found himself hoping that she would
write again. But he received no further communication; and in the
intensity of his solicitude he sent another note, suggesting that he
should pay her a visit some Sunday, the distance being under eighteen
miles.
He expected a reply on the second morning after despatching his
missive; but none came. The third morning arrived; the postman did
not stop. This was Saturday, and in a feverish state of anxiety
about her he sent off three brief lines stating that he was coming
the following day, for he felt sure something had happened.
His first and natural thought had been that she was ill from her
immersion; but it soon occurred to him that somebody would have
written for her in such a case. Conjectures were put an end to by
his arrival at the village school-house near Shaston on the bright
morning of Sunday, between eleven and twelve o'clock, when the parish
was as vacant as a desert, most of the inhabitants having gathered
inside the church, whence their voices could occasionally be heard in
unison.
A little girl opened the door. "Miss Bridehead is up-stairs," she
said. "And will you please walk up to her?"
"Is she ill?" asked Jude hastily.
"Only a little--not very."
Jude entered and ascended. On reaching the landing a voice told him
which way to turn--the voice of Sue calling his name. He passed the
doorway, and found her lying in a little bed in a room a dozen feet
square.
"Oh, Sue!" he cried, sitting down beside her and taking her hand.
"How is this! You couldn't write?"
"No--it wasn't that!" she answered. "I did catch a bad cold--but I
could have written. Only I wouldn't!"
"Why not?--frightening me like this!"
"Yes--that was what I was afraid of! But I had decided not to write
to you any more. They won't have me back at the school--that's why I
couldn't write. Not the fact, but the reason!"
"Well?"
"They not only won't have me, but they gave me a parting piece of
advice--"
"What?"
She did not answer directly. "I vowed I never would tell you,
Jude--it is so vulgar and distressing!"
"Is it about us?"
"Yes."
"But do tell me!"
"Well--somebody has sent them baseless reports about us, and they
say you and I ought to marry as soon as possible, for the sake of my
reputation! ... There--now I have told you, and I wish I hadn't!"