Jude the Obsure

In the meantime Sue, though remarkably successful in her cake-selling

experiment at Kennetbridge fair, had lost the temporary brightness

which had begun to sit upon her sadness on account of that success.

When all her "Christminster" cakes had been disposed of she took

upon her arm the empty basket, and the cloth which had covered the

standing she had hired, and giving the other things to the boy left

the street with him. They followed a lane to a distance of half a

mile, till they met an old woman carrying a child in short clothes,

and leading a toddler in the other hand.

Sue kissed the children, and said, "How is he now?"

"Still better!" returned Mrs. Edlin cheerfully. "Before you are

upstairs again your husband will be well enough--don't 'ee trouble."

They turned, and came to some old, dun-tiled cottages with gardens

and fruit-trees. Into one of these they entered by lifting the latch

without knocking, and were at once in the general living-room. Here

they greeted Jude, who was sitting in an arm-chair, the increased

delicacy of his normally delicate features, and the childishly

expectant look in his eyes, being alone sufficient to show that he

had been passing through a severe illness.

"What--you have sold them all?" he said, a gleam of interest lighting

up his face.

"Yes. Arcades, gables, east windows and all." She told him the

pecuniary results, and then hesitated. At last, when they were left

alone, she informed him of the unexpected meeting with Arabella, and

the latter's widowhood.

Jude was discomposed. "What--is she living here?" he said.

"No; at Alfredston," said Sue.

Jude's countenance remained clouded. "I thought I had better tell

you?" she continued, kissing him anxiously.

"Yes... Dear me! Arabella not in the depths of London, but down

here! It is only a little over a dozen miles across the country to

Alfredston. What is she doing there?"

She told him all she knew. "She has taken to chapel-going," Sue

added; "and talks accordingly."

"Well," said Jude, "perhaps it is for the best that we have almost

decided to move on. I feel much better to-day, and shall be well

enough to leave in a week or two. Then Mrs. Edlin can go home

again--dear faithful old soul--the only friend we have in the world!"

"Where do you think to go to?" Sue asked, a troublousness in her

tones.

Then Jude confessed what was in his mind. He said it would surprise

her, perhaps, after his having resolutely avoided all the old places

for so long. But one thing and another had made him think a great

deal of Christminster lately, and, if she didn't mind, he would like

to go back there. Why should they care if they were known? It was

oversensitive of them to mind so much. They could go on selling

cakes there, for that matter, if he couldn't work. He had no sense

of shame at mere poverty; and perhaps he would be as strong as ever

soon, and able to set up stone-cutting for himself there.