Jude the Obsure

"Yes; but you must tighten the reins by degrees only. Don't be too

strenuous at first. She'll come to any terms in time."

The caution was unnecessary, though Phillotson did not say so. "I

remember what my vicar at Shaston said, when I left after the row

that was made about my agreeing to her elopement. 'The only thing

you can do to retrieve your position and hers is to admit your error

in not restraining her with a wise and strong hand, and to get her

back again if she'll come, and be firm in the future.' But I was

so headstrong at that time that I paid no heed. And that after the

divorce she should have thought of doing so I did not dream."

The gate of Mrs. Edlin's cottage clicked, and somebody began crossing

in the direction of the school. Phillotson said "Good-night."

"Oh, is that Mr. Phillotson," said Mrs. Edlin. "I was going over

to see 'ee. I've been upstairs with her, helping her to unpack her

things; and upon my word, sir, I don't think this ought to be!"

"What--the wedding?"

"Yes. She's forcing herself to it, poor dear little thing; and

you've no notion what she's suffering. I was never much for religion

nor against it, but it can't be right to let her do this, and you

ought to persuade her out of it. Of course everybody will say it was

very good and forgiving of 'ee to take her to 'ee again. But for my

part I don't."

"It's her wish, and I am willing," said Phillotson with grave

reserve, opposition making him illogically tenacious now. "A great

piece of laxity will be rectified."

"I don't believe it. She's his wife if anybody's. She's had three

children by him, and he loves her dearly; and it's a wicked shame to

egg her on to this, poor little quivering thing! She's got nobody

on her side. The one man who'd be her friend the obstinate creature

won't allow to come near her. What first put her into this mood o'

mind, I wonder!"

"I can't tell. Not I certainly. It is all voluntary on her part.

Now that's all I have to say." Phillotson spoke stiffly. "You've

turned round, Mrs. Edlin. It is unseemly of you!"

"Well. I knowed you'd be affronted at what I had to say; but I don't

mind that. The truth's the truth."

"I'm not affronted, Mrs. Edlin. You've been too kind a neighbour

for that. But I must be allowed to know what's best for myself and

Susanna. I suppose you won't go to church with us, then?"