"Pshoo--you've got no body to speak of! You put me more in mind
of a sperrit. But there seems something wrong to-night, my dear.
Husband cross?"
"No. He never is. He's gone to bed early."
"Then what is it?"
"I cannot tell you. I have done wrong to-day. And I want to
eradicate it... Well--I will tell you this--Jude has been here this
afternoon, and I find I still love him--oh, grossly! I cannot tell
you more."
"Ah!" said the widow. "I told 'ee how 'twould be!"
"But it shan't be! I have not told my husband of his visit; it is
not necessary to trouble him about it, as I never mean to see Jude
any more. But I am going to make my conscience right on my duty to
Richard--by doing a penance--the ultimate thing. I must!"
"I wouldn't--since he agrees to it being otherwise, and it has gone
on three months very well as it is."
"Yes--he agrees to my living as I choose; but I feel it is an
indulgence I ought not to exact from him. It ought not to have been
accepted by me. To reverse it will be terrible--but I must be more
just to him. O why was I so unheroic!"
"What is it you don't like in him?" asked Mrs. Edlin curiously.
"I cannot tell you. It is something... I cannot say. The mournful
thing is, that nobody would admit it as a reason for feeling as I do;
so that no excuse is left me."
"Did you ever tell Jude what it was?"
"Never."
"I've heard strange tales o' husbands in my time," observed the widow
in a lowered voice. "They say that when the saints were upon the
earth devils used to take husbands' forms o' nights, and get poor
women into all sorts of trouble. But I don't know why that should
come into my head, for it is only a tale... What a wind and rain it
is to-night! Well--don't be in a hurry to alter things, my dear.
Think it over."
"No, no! I've screwed my weak soul up to treating him more
courteously--and it must be now--at once--before I break down!"
"I don't think you ought to force your nature. No woman ought to be
expected to."
"It is my duty. I will drink my cup to the dregs!"
Half an hour later when Mrs. Edlin put on her bonnet and shawl to
leave, Sue seemed to be seized with vague terror.