am sorry for you, but I am only in lodgings," said Jude coldly.

"Then you turn me away?"

"I'll give you enough to get food and lodging for a few days."

"Oh, but can't you have the kindness to take me in? I cannot endure
going to a public house to lodge; and I am so lonely. Please, Jude,
for old times' sake!"

"No, no," said Jude hastily. "I don't want to be reminded of those
things; and if you talk about them I shall not help you."

"Then I suppose I must go!" said Arabella. She bent her head against
the doorpost and began sobbing.

"The house is full," said Jude. "And I have only a little extra room
to my own--not much more than a closet--where I keep my tools, and
templates, and the few books I have left!"

"That would be a palace for me!"

"There is no bedstead in it."

"A bit of a bed could be made on the floor. It would be good enough
for me."

Unable to be harsh with her, and not knowing what to do, Jude called
the man who let the lodgings, and said this was an acquaintance of
his in great distress for want of temporary shelter.

"You may remember me as barmaid at the Lamb and Flag formerly?" spoke
up Arabella. "My father has insulted me this afternoon, and I've
left him, though without a penny!"

The householder said he could not recall her features. "But still,
if you are a friend of Mr. Fawley's we'll do what we can for a day
or two--if he'll make himself answerable?"

"Yes, yes," said Jude. "She has really taken me quite unawares; but
I should wish to help her out of her difficulty." And an arrangement
was ultimately come to under which a bed was to be thrown down in
Jude's lumber-room, to make it comfortable for Arabella till she
could get out of the strait she was in--not by her own fault, as she
declared--and return to her father's again.

While they were waiting for this to be done Arabella said: "You know
the news, I suppose?"

"I guess what you mean; but I know nothing."

"I had a letter from Anny at Alfredston to-day. She had just heard
that the wedding was to be yesterday: but she didn't know if it had
come off."

"I don't wish to talk of it."

"No, no: of course you don't. Only it shows what kind of woman--"

"Don't speak of her I say! She's a fool! And she's an angel, too,
poor dear!"

"If it's done, he'll have a chance of getting back to his old
position, by everybody's account, so Anny says. All his well-wishers
will be pleased, including the bishop hims