Jude the Obsure - Page 286/318

"Prompt," said the schoolmaster, magnanimously taking her hand.

But he checked his impulse to kiss her, remembering her start of

yesterday, which unpleasantly lingered in his mind.

Gillingham joined them, and they left the house, Widow Edlin

continuing steadfast in her refusal to assist in the ceremony.

"Where is the church?" said Sue. She had not lived there for any

length of time since the old church was pulled down, and in her

preoccupation forgot the new one.

"Up here," said Phillotson; and presently the tower loomed large and

solemn in the fog. The vicar had already crossed to the building,

and when they entered he said pleasantly: "We almost want candles."

"You do--wish me to be yours, Richard?" gasped Sue in a whisper.

"Certainly, dear: above all things in the world."

Sue said no more; and for the second or third time he felt he was not

quite following out the humane instinct which had induced him to let

her go.

There they stood, five altogether: the parson, the clerk, the couple,

and Gillingham; and the holy ordinance was resolemnized forthwith.

In the nave of the edifice were two or three villagers, and when the

clergyman came to the words, "What God hath joined," a woman's voice

from among these was heard to utter audibly: "God hath jined indeed!"

It was like a re-enactment by the ghosts of their former selves of

the similar scene which had taken place at Melchester years before.

When the books were signed the vicar congratulated the husband

and wife on having performed a noble, and righteous, and mutually

forgiving act. "All's well that ends well," he said smiling.

"May you long be happy together, after thus having been 'saved as by

fire.'"

They came down the nearly empty building, and crossed to the

schoolhouse. Gillingham wanted to get home that night, and left

early. He, too, congratulated the couple. "Now," he said in parting

from Phillotson, who walked out a little way, "I shall be able to

tell the people in your native place a good round tale; and they'll

all say 'Well done,' depend on it."

When the schoolmaster got back Sue was making a pretence of doing

some housewifery as if she lived there. But she seemed timid at his

approach, and compunction wrought on him at sight of it.

"Of course, my dear, I shan't expect to intrude upon your personal

privacy any more than I did before," he said gravely. "It is for our

good socially to do this, and that's its justification, if it was not

my reason." Sue brightened a little.