It drives me out of my senses. Do you care for him? Do you love him? You know you don't! It will be a fanatic prostitution—God forgive me, yes—that's what it will be!"
"I don't love him—I must, must own it, in deepest remorse! But I shall try to learn to love him by obeying him."
Jude argued, urged, implored; but her conviction was proof against all. It seemed to be the one thing on earth on which she was firm, and that her firmness in this had left her tottering in every other impulse and wish she possessed.
"I have been considerate enough to let you know the whole truth, and to tell it you myself," she said, in cut tones, "that you might not consider yourself slighted by 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 goodbye! But I wanted you to go to the cemetery with me.
