Jude the Obsure - Page 29/318

As he walked he looked at his watch. He could be back in two hours,

easily, and a good long time would still remain to him for reading

after tea.

Passing the few unhealthy fir-trees and cottage where the path

joined the highway he hastened along, and struck away to the left,

descending the steep side of the country to the west of the Brown

House. Here at the base of the chalk formation he neared the brook

that oozed from it, and followed the stream till he reached her

dwelling. A smell of piggeries came from the back, and the grunting

of the originators of that smell. He entered the garden, and knocked

at the door with the knob of his stick.

Somebody had seen him through the window, for a male voice on the

inside said: "Arabella! Here's your young man come coorting! Mizzle, my girl!"

Jude winced at the words. Courting in such a businesslike aspect as

it evidently wore to the speaker was the last thing he was thinking

of. He was going to walk with her, perhaps kiss her; but "courting"

was too coolly purposeful to be anything but repugnant to his ideas.

The door was opened and he entered, just as Arabella came downstairs

in radiant walking attire.

"Take a chair, Mr. What's-your-name?" said her father, an energetic,

black-whiskered man, in the same businesslike tones Jude had heard

from outside.

"I'd rather go out at once, wouldn't you?" she whispered to Jude.

"Yes," said he. "We'll walk up to the Brown House and back, we can

do it in half an hour."

Arabella looked so handsome amid her untidy surroundings that he felt

glad he had come, and all the misgivings vanished that had hitherto

haunted him.

First they clambered to the top of the great down, during which

ascent he had occasionally to take her hand to assist her. Then

they bore off to the left along the crest into the ridgeway, which

they followed till it intersected the high-road at the Brown

House aforesaid, the spot of his former fervid desires to behold

Christminster. But he forgot them now. He talked the commonest

local twaddle to Arabella with greater zest than he would have felt

in discussing all the philosophies with all the Dons in the recently

adored university, and passed the spot where he had knelt to Diana

and Phoebus without remembering that there were any such people in

the mythology, or that the sun was anything else than a useful

lamp for illuminating Arabella's face. An indescribable lightness

of heel served to lift him along; and Jude, the incipient scholar,

prospective D.D., professor, bishop, or what not, felt himself

honoured and glorified by the condescension of this handsome country

wench in agreeing to take a walk with him in her Sunday frock and

ribbons.