hearing of it at second hand. I
have even owned the extreme fact that I do not love him. I did not
think you would be so rough with me for doing so! I was going to
ask you..."

"To give you away?"

"No. To send--my boxes to me--if you would. But I suppose you
won't."

"Why, of course I will. What--isn't he coming to fetch you--to marry
you from here? He won't condescend to do that?"

"No--I won't let him. I go to him voluntarily, just as I went away
from him. We are to be married at his little church at Marygreen."

She was so sadly sweet in what he called her wrong-headedness that
Jude could not help being moved to tears more than once for pity of
her. "I never knew such a woman for doing impulsive penances, as
you, Sue! No sooner does one expect you to go straight on, as the
one rational proceeding, than you double round the corner!"

"Ah, well; let that go! ... Jude, I must say good-bye! But I wanted
you to go to the cemetery with me. Let our farewell be there--beside
the graves of those who died to bring home to me the error of my
views."

They turned in the direction of the place, and the gate was opened to
them on application. Sue had been there often, and she knew the way
to the spot in the dark. They reached it, and stood still.

"It is here--I should like to part," said she.

"So be it!"

"Don't think me hard because I have acted on conviction. Your
generous devotion to me is unparalleled, Jude! Your worldly failure,
if you have failed, is to your credit rather than to your blame.
Remember that the best and greatest among mankind are those who do
themselves no worldly good. Every successful man is more or less a
selfish man. The devoted fail... 'Charity seeketh not her own.'"

"In that chapter we are at one, ever beloved darling, and on it we'll
part friends. Its verses will stand fast when all the rest that you
call religion has passed away!"

"Well--don't discuss it. Good-bye, Jude; my fellow-sinner, and
kindest friend!"

"Good-bye, my mistaken wife. Good-bye!"

V

The next afternoon the familiar Christminster fog still hung over all
things. Sue's slim shape was only just discernible going towards the
station.

Jude had no heart to go to his work that day. Neither could he go
anywhere in the direction by which she would be likely to pass.
He went in an opposite one, to a dreary, strange, flat scene, where
boughs dripped, and coughs and consumption lurked