Jude the Obsure

When he was gone Arabella continued: "He'll never be a beauty, will

he, poor chap! Does he know I am his mother really?"

"No. He thinks there is some mystery about his parentage--that's all.

Jude is going to tell him when he is a little older."

"But how do you come to be doing this? I am surprised."

"It is only a temporary occupation--a fancy of ours while we are in a

difficulty."

"Then you are living with him still?"

"Yes."

"Married?"

"Of course."

"Any children?"

"Two."

"And another coming soon, I see."

Sue writhed under the hard and direct questioning, and her tender

little mouth began to quiver.

"Lord--I mean goodness gracious--what is there to cry about? Some

folks would be proud enough!"

"It is not that I am ashamed--not as you think! But it seems

such a terribly tragic thing to bring beings into the world--so

presumptuous--that I question my right to do it sometimes!"

"Take it easy, my dear... But you don't tell me why you do such a

thing as this? Jude used to be a proud sort of chap--above any

business almost, leave alone keeping a standing."

"Perhaps my husband has altered a little since then. I am sure he

is not proud now!" And Sue's lips quivered again. "I am doing this

because he caught a chill early in the year while putting up some

stonework of a music-hall, at Quartershot, which he had to do in the

rain, the work having to be executed by a fixed day. He is better

than he was; but it has been a long, weary time! We have had an old

widow friend with us to help us through it; but she's leaving soon."

"Well, I am respectable too, thank God, and of a serious way of

thinking since my loss. Why did you choose to sell gingerbreads?"

"That's a pure accident. He was brought up to the baking business,

and it occurred to him to try his hand at these, which he can make

without coming out of doors. We call them Christminster cakes.

They are a great success."

"I never saw any like 'em. Why, they are windows and towers, and

pinnacles! And upon my word they are very nice." She had helped

herself, and was unceremoniously munching one of the cakes.

"Yes. They are reminiscences of the Christminster Colleges.

Traceried windows, and cloisters, you see. It was a whim of his

to do them in pastry."