"Still better!" returned Mrs. Edlin, cheerfully. "Before you are ill your husband will be well enough—don't 'ee trouble."
They turned, and came to some old, dun-tiled cottages with gardens and fruit-trees. Into one of these they entered by lifting the latch without knocking, and were at once in the general living-room. Here they greeted Jude, who was sitting in an arm-chair, the increased delicacy of his normally delicate features, and the childishly expectant look in his eyes, being alone sufficient to show that he had been passing through a severe illness.
"What! you have sold them all?" he said, a gleam of interest lighting up his face.
"Yes. Arcades, gables, east windows, and all." She told him the pecuniary results, and then hesitated. At last, when they were left alone, she informed him of the unexpected meeting with Arabella, and the latter's widowhood.
Jude was discomposed. "What! is she living here?" he said.
"No; at Alfredston," said Sue.
Jude's countenance remained clouded. "I thought I had better tell you," she continued, kissing him anxiously.
"Yes. . . . Dear me! Arabella not in the depths of London, but down here! It is only a little over a dozen miles across the country to Alfredston. What is she doing there?"
She told him all she knew. "She has taken to chapel-going," Sue added; "and talks accordingly."
"Well," said Jude, "perhaps it is for the best that we have almost decided to move on. I feel much better today, and shall be well enough to leave in a week or two. Then Mrs. Edlin can go home again—dear faithful old soul-the only friend we have in the world!"
"Where do you think to go to?" Sue asked, a tearfulness in her tones.
