Part 41 (1/2)
”According to the rule of women's whims I suppose I ought to suddenly love him, because he has let me go so generously and unexpectedly,” she answered smiling. ”But I am so cold, or devoid of grat.i.tude, or so something, that even this generosity hasn't made me love him, or repent, or want to stay with him as his wife; although I do feel I like his large-mindedness, and respect him more than ever.”
”It may not work so well for us as if he had been less kind, and you had run away against his will,” murmured Jude.
”That I never would have done.”
Jude's eyes rested musingly on her face. Then he suddenly kissed her; and was going to kiss her again. ”No-only once now-please, Jude!”
”That's rather cruel,” he answered; but acquiesced. ”Such a strange thing has happened to me,” Jude continued after a silence. ”Arabella has actually written to ask me to get a divorce from her-in kindness to her, she says. She wants to honestly and legally marry that man she has already married virtually; and begs me to enable her to do it.”
”What have you done?”
”I have agreed. I thought at first I couldn't do it without getting her into trouble about that second marriage, and I don't want to injure her in any way. Perhaps she's no worse than I am, after all! But n.o.body knows about it over here, and I find it will not be a difficult proceeding at all. If she wants to start afresh I have only too obvious reasons for not hindering her.”
”Then you'll be free?”
”Yes, I shall be free.”
”Where are we booked for?” she asked, with the discontinuity that marked her to-night.
”Aldbrickham, as I said.”
”But it will be very late when we get there?”
”Yes. I thought of that, and I wired for a room for us at the Temperance Hotel there.”
”One?”
”Yes-one.”
She looked at him. ”Oh Jude!” Sue bent her forehead against the corner of the compartment. ”I thought you might do it; and that I was deceiving you. But I didn't mean that!”
In the pause which followed, Jude's eyes fixed themselves with a stultified expression on the opposite seat. ”Well!” he said... ”Well!”
He remained in silence; and seeing how discomfited he was she put her face against his cheek, murmuring, ”Don't be vexed, dear!”
”Oh-there's no harm done,” he said. ”But-I understood it like that... Is this a sudden change of mind?”
”You have no right to ask me such a question; and I shan't answer!” she said, smiling.
”My dear one, your happiness is more to me than anything-although we seem to verge on quarrelling so often!-and your will is law to me. I am something more than a mere-selfish fellow, I hope. Have it as you wis.h.!.+” On reflection his brow showed perplexity. ”But perhaps it is that you don't love me-not that you have become conventional! Much as, under your teaching, I hate convention, I hope it is that, not the other terrible alternative!”
Even at this obvious moment for candour Sue could not be quite candid as to the state of that mystery, her heart. ”Put it down to my timidity,” she said with hurried evasiveness; ”to a woman's natural timidity when the crisis comes. I may feel as well as you that I have a perfect right to live with you as you thought-from this moment. I may hold the opinion that, in a proper state of society, the father of a woman's child will be as much a private matter of hers as the cut of her underlinen, on whom n.o.body will have any right to question her. But partly, perhaps, because it is by his generosity that I am now free, I would rather not be other than a little rigid. If there had been a rope-ladder, and he had run after us with pistols, it would have seemed different, and I may have acted otherwise. But don't press me and criticize me, Jude! a.s.sume that I haven't the courage of my opinions. I know I am a poor miserable creature. My nature is not so pa.s.sionate as yours!”
He repeated simply! ”I thought-what I naturally thought. But if we are not lovers, we are not. Phillotson thought so, I am sure. See, here is what he has written to me.” He opened the letter she had brought, and read:
”I make only one condition-that you are tender and kind to her. I know you love her. But even love may be cruel at times. You are made for each other: it is obvious, palpable, to any unbiased older person. You were all along 'the shadowy third' in my short life with her. I repeat, take care of Sue.”
”He's a good fellow, isn't he!” she said with latent tears. On reconsideration she added, ”He was very resigned to letting me go-too resigned almost! I never was so near being in love with him as when he made such thoughtful arrangements for my being comfortable on my journey, and offering to provide money. Yet I was not. If I loved him ever so little as a wife, I'd go back to him even now.”
”But you don't, do you?”