Then bitter affliction came to us,and her intellect broke,and she veered round to darkness.Strange difference of ***,that time and circumstance,which enlarge the views of most men,narrow the views of women almost invariably.
And now the ultimate horror has come -her giving herself like this to what she loathes,in her enslavement to forms!She,so sensitive,so shrinking,that the very wind seemed to blow on her with a touch of deference....
As for Sue and me when we were at our own best,long ago -when our minds were clear,and our love of truth fearless -the time was not ripe for us!Our ideas were fifty years too soon to be any good to us.And so the resistance they met with brought reaction in her,and recklessness and ruin on me!...There -this,Mrs.Edlin,is how I go on to myself continually,as I lie here.I must be boring you awfully.'
'Not at all,my dear boy.I could hearken to 'ee all day.'
As Jude reflected more and more on her news,and grew more restless,he began in his mental agony to use terribly profane language about social conventions,which started a fit of coughing.Presently there came a knock at the door downstairs.As nobody answered it Mrs.Edlin herself went down.
The visitor said blandly:'The doctor.'The lanky form was that of Physician Vilbert,who had been called in by Arabella.
'How is my patient at present?'asked the physician.
'Oh bad -very bad!Poor chap,he got excited,and do blaspeam terribly,since I let out some gossip by accident -the more to my blame.
But there -you must excuse a man in suffering for what he says,and Ihope God will forgive him.'
'Ah.I'll go up and see him.Mrs.Fawley at home?'
'She's not in at present,but she'll be here soon.'
Vilbert went;but though Jude had hitherto taken the medicines of that skilful practitioner with the greatest indifference whenever poured down his throat by Arabella,he was now so brought to bay by events that he vented his opinion of Vilbert in the physician's face,and so forcibly,and with such striking epithets,that Vilbert soon scurried downstairs again.At the door he met Arabella,Mrs.Edlin having left.Arabella inquired how he thought her husband was now,and seeing that the doctor looked ruffled,asked him to take something.He assented.
'I'll bring it to you here in the passage,'she said.'There's nobody but me about the house to-day.'
She brought him a bottle and a glass,and he drank.
Arabella began shaking with suppressed laughter.'What is this,my dear?'he asked,smacking his lips.
'Oh -a drop of wine -and something in it.'Laughing again she said:'I poured your own love-philtre into it,that you sold me at the agricultural show,don't you re-member?'
'I do,I do!Clever woman!But you must be prepared for the consequences.'
Putting his arm round her shoulders he kissed her there and then.
'Don't don't,'she whispered,laughing good-humouredly.'My man will hear.'
She let him out of the house,and as she went back she said to herself:'Well!Weak women must provide for a rainy day.And if my poor fellow upstairs do go off -as I suppose he will soon -it's well to keep chances open.And I can't pick and choose now as I could when I was younger.
And one must take the old if one can't get the young.'
The last pages to which the chronicler of these lives would ask the reader's attention are concerned with the scene in and out of Jude's bedroom when leafy summer came round again.
His face was now so thin that his old friends would hardly have known him.It was afternoon,and Arabella was at the looking-glass curling her hair,which operation she performed by heating an umbrella-stay in the flame of a candle she had lighted,and using it upon the flowing lock.
When she had finished this,practised a dimple,and put on her things,she cast her eyes round upon Jude.He seemed to be sleeping,though his position was an elevated one,his malady preventing him lying down.
Arabella,hatted,gloved,and ready,sat down and waited,as if expecting some one to come and take her place as nurse.
Certain sounds from without revealed that the town was in festivity,though little of the festival,whatever it might have been,could be seen here.Bells began to ring,and the notes came into the room through the open window,and travelled round Jude's head in a hum.They made her restless,and at last she said to herself:'Why ever doesn't Father come!'
She looked again at Jude,critically gauged his ebbing life,as she had done so many times during the late months,and glancing at his watch,which was hung up by way of timepiece,rose impatiently.Still he slept,and coming to a resolution she slipped from the room,closed the door noiselessly,and descended the stairs.The house was empty.The attraction which moved Arabella to go abroad had evidently drawn away the other inmates long before.
It was a warm,cloudless,enticing day.She shut the front door,and hastened round into Chief Street,and when near the theatre could hear the notes of the organ,a rehearsal for a coming concert being in progress.
She entered under the archway of Oldgate College,where men were putting up awnings round the quadrangle for a ball in the hall that evening.People who had come up from the country for the day were picnicking on the grass,and Arabella walked along the gravel paths and under the aged limes.But finding this place rather dull she returned to the streets,and watched the carriages drawing up for the concert,numerous dons and their wives,and undergraduates with gay female companions,crowding up likewise.When the doors were closed,and the concert began,she moved on.
The powerful notes of that concert rolled forth through the swinging yellow blinds of the open windows,over the housetops,and into the still air of the lanes.They reached so far as to the room in which Jude lay;and it was about this time that his cough began again and awakened him.
As soon as he could speak he murmured,his eyes still closed:
'A little water,please.'
