Jude the Obsure

"Nonsense, dear. Not now! There's no more left. The tea will take

the muddle out of our heads, and we shall be as fresh as larks."

"All right. I've--married you. She said I ought to marry you again,

and I have straightway. It is true religion! Ha--ha--ha!"

VIII

Michaelmas came and passed, and Jude and his wife, who had lived but

a short time in her father's house after their remarriage, were in

lodgings on the top floor of a dwelling nearer to the centre of the

city.

He had done a few days' work during the two or three months since

the event, but his health had been indifferent, and it was now

precarious. He was sitting in an arm-chair before the fire, and

coughed a good deal.

"I've got a bargain for my trouble in marrying thee over

again!" Arabella was saying to him. "I shall have to keep 'ee

entirely--that's what 'twill come to! I shall have to make black-pot

and sausages, and hawk 'em about the street, all to support an

invalid husband I'd no business to be saddled with at all. Why

didn't you keep your health, deceiving one like this? You were well

enough when the wedding was!"

"Ah, yes!" said he, laughing acridly. "I have been thinking of

my foolish feeling about the pig you and I killed during our

first marriage. I feel now that the greatest mercy that could be

vouchsafed to me would be that something should serve me as I served

that animal."

This was the sort of discourse that went on between them every day

now. The landlord of the lodging, who had heard that they were a

queer couple, had doubted if they were married at all, especially

as he had seen Arabella kiss Jude one evening when she had taken a

little cordial; and he was about to give them notice to quit, till by

chance overhearing her one night haranguing Jude in rattling terms,

and ultimately flinging a shoe at his head, he recognized the note of

genuine wedlock; and concluding that they must be respectable, said

no more.

Jude did not get any better, and one day he requested Arabella, with

considerable hesitation, to execute a commission for him. She asked

him indifferently what it was.

"To write to Sue."

"What in the name--do you want me to write to her for?"

"To ask how she is, and if she'll come to see me, because I'm ill,

and should like to see her--once again."