Phillotson seemed not to notice, to be surrounded by a mist which prevented his seeing the emotions of others. As soon as they had signed their names and come away, and the suspense was over, Jude felt relieved.
The meal at his lodging was a very simple affair, and at two o'clock they went off. In crossing the pavement to the fly she looked back; and there was a frightened light in her eyes. Could it be that Sue had acted with such unusual foolishness as to plunge into she knew not what for the sake of asserting her independence of him, of retaliating on him for his secrecy? Perhaps Sue was thus venturesome with men because she was childishly ignorant of that side of their natures which wore out women's hearts and lives.
When her foot was on the carriage-step she turned round, saying that she had forgotten something. Jude and the landlady offered to get it.
"No," she said, running back. "It is my handkerchief. I know where I left it."
Jude followed her back. She had found it, and came holding it in her hand. She looked into his eyes with her own tearful ones, and her lips suddenly parted as if she were going to avow something. But she went on; and whatever she had meant to say remained unspoken.
一两天后，苏的信到了，犹如一阵摧毁万物的恶风猛撼着裘德。
他还没看信的内容，先一眼瞧见了她的签字，是她一本正经写的姓名全称，不简不缩，她从头一封信起，向来没这样用过。
我的亲爱的裘德：现有一事奉告，谅你得悉后当不为意外，不过你难免顿生速度加快（铁路公司的火车用语）之感。费乐生先生和我很快就要结婚，约在三四个礼拜之后。你当然知道，我们原意是先要等我完成进修，领到文凭，并且如有必要，能以协助他教学，此后再办结婚之事。但是他慷慨表示，既然我已不在进修学校就读，似无再等下去之理。这实属他的美意，因为我确实由于一时不慎，致遭开除，处境十分困难。
给我道喜吧。务必记住我要你这样做，不得拒绝！你的亲爱的表亲
苏珊娜•弗洛仑•马利•柏瑞和
这个消息对他真是五雷轰顶；他吃不下饭，口干舌燥，拼命喝茶。过了会儿，他就去上班了，也跟所有碰到这类情况的人一样，大声发出苦笑。万事万物似乎都在跟他作对。然而他又自问：可怜的姑娘不这样，又能怎么办？他觉得自己就是痛哭流涕，也于事无补。
“唉，苏珊娜•弗洛仑•马利呀！”他一边干活一边说。“你可不知道结婚是什么滋味哟！”
上回他醉醺醺跑到她那儿去，逼得她订了婚，难道这一回因为他对她讲了自己结婚的事，又逼得她走这一步吗？不错，说不定还有实际的和社会的因素促成她的决定。不过苏才不是个重实际、使心眼的人哪。他不能不认为，是他吐露的秘密对她是如此意外，因而她才在盛怒之下，给费乐生的并无把握的请求开了方便之门，并且要证明学校当局的谰言纯属无稽之谈，像一般履行婚约那样，跟费乐生仓卒结婚是顶好的办法。实际上，苏已经被逼得走投无路了。可怜的苏呀！
他决心扮演侠客角色；为给她撑腰，一定要演得淋漓尽致。不过他还是有一两天没法接她的请求写信表示良好的祝愿。而这会儿，他那可爱的小宝贝儿却耐不住了，又来了一封信：
裘德：你愿不愿为我主婚？我在此地别无他人能像你办这样的事那么方便合适，因为你是我在此地的唯一已婚亲属。即使我父亲的态度好了起来，有这么个意思，实际上他也不肯办。我在祈祷书里看过结婚仪式中一节，无论如何总得有主婚人在场，我觉得真是出洋相。据那上面印的仪文说，我的新郎是按他的意愿和爱好选中了我，可我不是选中他。是某个人替我做主，把我交给了他，我就跟一头母驴或一头母羊，或者别的什么家畜一样。啊，教会的使者哟，敬祝你对人的见解那么超群迈众哟！可是我又忘了，我无权再返你玩啦！——永久的
苏珊娜•弗洛仑•马利•柏瑞和
裘德一咬牙，亮出了英雄气概，回信说：
我的亲爱的苏，我当然给你道喜，当然也当你的主婚人。我提个建议，你现在既然没你的住所，你就从我的住所，而不是你的朋友的地方，出门子吧。我认为这样做比较恰当，因为如你所说，我是你在世界上这块地方最近的亲人哪。
我不懂何以你在信末签名用那么一种又新鲜而又郑重得肉麻的方式？的确你至少还想着我一点点呢。——永远是你的亲爱的
裘德
其实他感到尤为刺心的倒不仅仅是她的署名方式，而是他对之保持缄默的所谓“已婚的亲属”的说法——她把他这人这么一形容，弄得他简直像个二百五了。如果她这样写是意在讽刺，他很难原谅她；如果是因为苦恼不堪——那又当别论啦！
他提出用他的住所无论如何博得了费乐生的赞许，因为小学教师寄来一封短简，对他热烈地表示谢意，接受了这个权宜办法。苏也向他道谢。裘德立即迁人一个比较宽敞的公寓，他之所以换地方是为避开那位疑神疑鬼的房东太太的窥伺，因为她正是造成苏的倒霉的经历的起因。
接着苏来信告诉她婚礼日期已定。经过打听，裘德决定要她下礼拜六来住那个地方，也就可以在婚礼前在镇内居留十天。对法定婚前应居留十五天的期限，名义上完全可以马虎充数了。
她那天乘上午十点钟火车到达，根据她的要求，他没去车站接她，因为她说他不必因此白白误半天工，少拿半天工资（假定她这个理由果真），但是他此时此刻对苏了解如此之深，知道她这是由于前一阵感情纠葛的危机所引起的相互之间的过敏反应，在她是记忆犹新，影响犹在，只好出此一策。他到家吃饭的时候，看见她已经在自己的居室安顿就绪。
她同他住同一所房子，但楼层不同，彼此极少见面，偶然在～块儿吃晚饭，仅此而已。苏的神情像一个受惊的孩子。他不了解她心里什么感觉；他们的谈话纯属敷衍性质；不过她脸色并不苍白，也不像不舒服。费乐生常来，大多乘裘德不在家的时候。婚礼那天，裘德给自己放了一天假，苏和她的表亲，在这个希奇的短暂过渡期，头一回，也是最后一回，在一块儿吃早饭。饭是在他的屋子（小起坐室）里吃的，他是因为苏住在这儿，才临时租了这间屋子。跟所有女人一样，她一眼就看出来，要把它收拾得舒舒服服，他是无能为力的，于是她风风火火地给他整理了一番。
“你怎么啦，裘德？”她突然说。
他胳臂肘支在桌子上，手托着下巴颏，眼盯着桌布，仿佛上面画出来一幅飘渺的未来景象。
“哦——没事儿！”
“你知道，你现在是‘爸爸’啦。凡是主婚人，人家都这么叫他。”
裘德本想说“费乐生的年纪才够格让人叫爸爸呢！”可是他不想这么庸俗地抵她。
她话说得没完没了，好像她生怕裘德一味陷入沉思。饭没吃完，两个人都觉得在这新局面下装得那么安之若素太没意思，于是各到一边去吃了。裘德心里倍感沉重，因为他不断在想自己当初做过这类错事，如今他不单没恳求她、警告她别干这样的事，反而帮助和鼓励自己爱的人做同样的错事。他欲言又止，“你真是拿定了主意吗？”
早饭后，他们一块儿外出，他们的心也想到一块儿了，因为这是他们最后一次能随心所欲，不因俗礼而拘泥的相伴活动的机会。既是命运的捉弄，也因为苏天性爱在严重的转折关头，开点玩笑，侮慢神明，所以她就挽起了裘德的胳臂一路走过泥泞的街道——她这样做还是这辈子头一回呢——转过街角，他们发现走到了一座屋顶缓斜的灰色垂直式教堂——圣•托马斯教堂前面。
“就是那座教堂。”裘德说。
“我就在那儿结婚？”
“对。”
“真是呀！”她由于好奇心驱使大声喊叫出来。“我可真想进去开开眼，瞧瞧我待会儿就跪下来行礼的地方什么样。”
他再次对自己说，“她还不知道结婚什么滋味呢！”
他莫奈何只好顺从她要进去的愿望，就从教堂西门进去了。教堂内部光线暗淡，只有一个女工在打扫。她仍然挽着他，简直跟爱他一样。那个早晨，她对他那么甜蜜，而甜蜜中含有残酷意味。他想到她终将有后悔的一天，不禁心痛难忍，更觉不堪：
……我无从感受也无从验证
落在男人头上的打击，一旦降临
你们女子身上，是何等样沉重！
他们毫无表情地缓步走向中殿，到了圣坛栏杆旁，凭倚栏杆，在一片沉寂中站着，然后转身从中殿走回来。她的手仍然挽着他的胳臂，俨然刚成婚的夫妇。这个活动全由她一手操持，其中有太多的暗示意味，令裘德差不多撑不下去了。
“我喜欢来这么一遍。”她说，因为情感上得到了充分的满足，声音是那么宛转、娇柔，而她的话是真情，那是绝对无疑的。
“我知道你喜欢啊！”裘德说。
“这倒怪有意思呢，因为别人从前都没这么来过呀。大概过两个钟头，我就跟我丈夫这样走过教堂吧，不是吗？”
“一定这样，毫无疑问！”
“你结婚时候就这样？”
“天哪，苏啊——你可别厉害到这么歹毒啊！……唉，亲爱的，我本来是不想这么说哟！”
“哦，你气啦！”她带着悔意说，一边眨眨眼，不让眼泪掉下来。“我不是答应再不叫你生气吗？……我想我真不该叫你把我带到这里边来。哦，我太不该啦！我这会儿明白过来啦。我的好奇心老叫我找刺激，结果就弄得自己下不了台啦。原谅我吧！……裘德呀，你原谅还是不原谅呢？”
她的求恕满含着悔恨，裘德握紧了她的手，表示原谅，自己的眼睛比她的还湿。
“咱们这会儿得赶快出去，我不想再这么干啦！”她低声下气地继续说。于是他们走出教堂，苏要到车站接费乐生。可是他们刚走到街上，迎面来的头一个人恰好是小学教师，他坐的火车比苏要等的那趟要早些。她靠在裘德膀子上本来无可非议，不过她还是把手抽回来。裘德觉得费乐生一副吃惊的样子。
“我们刚干了一件挺好笑的事儿！”她说，笑得那么坦荡。“我们到教堂去过啦，演习了一下，咱们不是演习过吗，裘德！”
“怎么回事呀！”费乐生说，感到莫名其妙。
裘德心里懊恼，认为她何必这么直言无隐，但是到了这地步，他也不好不解释，就把经过讲了讲，告诉他他们怎么齐步走向圣坛的。
裘德一看费乐生惶恐不安，就尽可能高高兴兴说，“我还得去给她买件小礼物，你们跟我一块儿到店里去，好吗？”
“不去啦，”苏说，“我得跟他回住的地方。”她要求她的情人别耽误太久，随即同小学教师一块儿走了。
裘德很快回到自己家里，跟他们到了一块儿。过了会儿，他们开始做婚礼的准备。费乐生把头发刷来刷去，那样子叫人瞧着受不了。他把衬衫领子浆得那么硬，二十年来都没见过。不说这些，他外表庄重，富于思想，整个来看，说这个人是位脾气好、善体贴的丈夫，决不会有差池，不对路。他对苏的崇拜是明显的，不过看她的神气，倒像她觉着自己不配呢。
虽然路挺近，裘德还是叫了辆红狮车行的轻便马车。他们出来时候，门口围着六七个女人和孩子。他们不知道小学教师和苏是何许人，不过他们已经慢慢拿裘德当本镇人了，又猜测那一对是他的外地来的亲戚，谁也料不到苏不久前还是进修学校学生呢。
在马车里，他从衣袋里掏出来特意给她买的小贺礼，原来是两三码白纱。他把它整个蒙在她的帽子和身上当婚纱。
“放在帽子上太怪模怪样的，”她说，“我要把帽子摘下来。”
“哦，不必啦——这样挺好。”费乐生说。她听了他的话。
他们进了教堂，站到自己的位置上，这时裘德却想到前面那回演习准把这回仪式的精神冲淡，可是他们行礼如仪到一半的时候，他满心不愿再充当主婚人角色。苏怎么会大发奇想叫他干这样的事呢？这不仅对他是件残酷事，对她自己何尝不一样残酷。女人在这类事情上就是跟男人不一样。难道她们并不像公认的那样比男人更敏感，而是感情更冷，更乏浪漫情趣吗？否则就是她们比男人还有胆气？莫非苏生性如此乖僻顽梗，不惜一意孤行，不惜痛彻肺腑，要练习长期受罪，把给她和他造成痛苦，当成一种享受；又因为把他牵进去受罪而于心不忍，对他不胜怜惜？他分明看到她脸上强作无动于衷，却难掩内心骚乱；及至裘德以主婚人身份把她交给费乐生那折磨人的一刻，她真是失魂落魄，难以支持下去了；但是看上去，这似乎不是她一心为自己着想，倒是因为她深知那位表亲心里是怎么一种滋味，而她本来就不该让他来啊。说不定而今而后因为她反复无常，颠倒错乱，将会屡屡加给他这样的痛苦，而她自己也将屡屡为因她而受罪的人悲伤欲绝。
看来费乐生什么也没注意，他周围一层薄雾挡住了他的视线，看不到别人的情绪变化。他们一签好名就离开教堂，裘德不必再提心吊胆，一块石头总算落了地。
在他的住处吃饭很简单，两点钟他们就动身了。在走过人行道去上马车的时候，她回头看了看，目光露出一丝惊恐。难道苏就是为了表示她不受他的影响，为了他向她保守秘密而蓄意报复，竟会以难得糊涂而投身前途莫测的生活吗？也许她对于男人满不在乎吧，其实她像小孩子一样无知，不了解男人天性中原来就有蚀耗女人的心灵和生命的那一面。
她踏上了马车的踏板，忽然转过身，说她忘了样东西。裘德和房东都热心要替她去拿。
“不成。”她说完就往回跑。“是我的手绢儿。我知道放在哪儿。”
裘德跟她回去。她找到手绢，抓在手里，双目含泪凝视裘德的眼睛，突然丹唇微启，似欲有所表白。但是她走了，到底有什么难言之隐，终于没有透露。
Part 3 Chapter 8
JUDE wondered if she had really left her handkerchief behind; or whether it were that she had miserably wished to tell him of a love that at the last moment she could not bring herself to express.
He could not stay in his silent lodging when they were gone, and fearing that he might be tempted to drown his misery in alcohol he went upstairs, changed his dark clothes for his white, his thin boots for his thick, and proceeded to his customary work for the afternoon.
But in the cathedral he seemed to hear a voice behind him, and to be possessed with an idea that she would come back. She could not possibly go home with Phillotson, he fancied. The feeling grew and stirred. The moment that the clock struck the last of his working hours he threw down his tools and rushed homeward. "Has anybody been for me?" he asked.
Nobody had been there.
As he could claim the downstairs sitting-room till twelve o'clock that night he sat in it all the evening; and even when the clock had struck eleven, and the family had retired, he could not shake off the feeling that she would come back and sleep in the little room adjoining his own in which she had slept so many previous days. Her actions were always unpredictable: why should she not come? Gladly would he have compounded for the denial of her as a sweetheart and wife by having her live thus as a fellow-lodger and friend, even on the most distant terms. His supper still remained spread, and going to the front door, and softly setting it open, he returned to the room and sat as watchers sit on Old-Mid-summer eves, expecting the phantom of the Beloved. But she did not come.
Having indulged in this wild hope he went upstairs, and looked out of the window, and pictured her through the evening journey to London, whither she and Phillotson had gone for their holiday; their rattling along through the damp night to their hotel, under the same sky of ribbed cloud as that he beheld, through which the moon showed its position rather than its shape, and one or two of the larger stars made themselves visible as faint nebulae only. It was a new beginning of Sue's history. He projected his mind into the future, and saw her with children more or less in her own likeness around her. But the consolation of regarding them as a continuation of her identity was denied to him, as to all such dreamers, by the wilfulness of Nature in not allowing issue from one parent alone. Every desired renewal of an existence is debased by being half alloy. "If at the estrangement or death of my lost love, I could go and see her child--hers solely--there would be comfort in it!" said Jude. And then he again uneasily saw, as he had latterly seen with more and more frequency, the scorn of Nature for man's finer emotions, and her lack of interest in his aspirations.
The oppressive strength of his affection for Sue showed itself on the morrow and following days yet more clearly. He could no longer endure the light of the Melchester lamps; the sunshine was as drab paint, and the blue sky as zinc. Then he received news that his old aunt was dangerously ill at Marygreen, which intelligence almost coincided with a letter from his former employer at Christminster, who offered him permanent work of a good class if he would come back. The letters were almost a relief to him. He started to visit Aunt Drusilla, and resolved to go onward to Christminster to see what worth there might be in the builder's offer.
Jude found his aunt even worse than the communication from the Widow Edlin had led him to expect. There was every possibility of her lingering on for weeks or months, though little likelihood. He wrote to Sue informing her of the state of her aunt, and suggesting that she might like to see her aged relative alive. He would meet her at Alfredston Road, the following evening, Monday, on his way back from Christminster, if she could come by the up-train which crossed his down-train at that station. Next morning, according, he went on to Christminster, intending to return to Alfredston soon enough to keep the suggested appointment with Sue.
The city of learning wore an estranged look, and he had lost all feeling for its associations. Yet as the sun made vivid lights and shades of the mullioned architecture of the facades, and drew patterns of the crinkled battlements on the young turf of the quadrangles, Jude thought he had never seen the place look more beautiful. He came to the street in which he had first beheld Sue. The chair she had occupied when, leaning over her ecclesiastical scrolls, a hog-hair brush in her hand, her girlish figure had arrested the gaze of his inquiring eyes, stood precisely in its former spot, empty. It was as if she were dead, and nobody had been found capable of succeeding her in that artistic pursuit. Hers was now the city phantom, while those of the intellectual and devotional worthies who had once moved him to emotion were no longer able to assert their presence there.
However, here he was; and in fulfilment of his intention he went on to his former lodging in "Beersheba," near the ritualistic church of St. Silas. The old landlady who opened the door seemed glad to see him again, and bringing some lunch informed him that the builder who had employed him had called to inquire his address.
Jude went on to the stone-yard where he had worked. But the old sheds and bankers were distasteful to him; he felt it impossible to engage himself to return and stay in this place of vanished dreams. He longed for the hour of the homeward train to Alfredston, where he might probably meet Sue.
Then, for one ghastly half-hour of depression caused by these scenes, there returned upon him that feeling which had been his undoing more than once--that he was not worth the trouble of being taken care of either by himself or others; and during this half-hour he met Tinker Taylor, the bankrupt ecclesiastical ironmonger, at Fourways, who proposed that they should adjourn to a bar and drink together. They walked along the street till they stood before one of the great palpitating centres of Christminster life, the inn wherein he formerly had responded to the challenge to rehearse the Creed in Latin-- now a popular tavern with a spacious and inviting entrance, which gave admittance to a bar that had been entirely renovated and refitted in modern style since Jude's residence here.
Tinker Taylor drank off his glass and departed, saying it was too stylish a place now for him to feel at home in unless he was drunker than he had money to be just then. Jude was longer finishing his, and stood abstractedly silent in the, for the minute, almost empty place. The bar had been gutted and newly arranged throughout, mahogany fixtures having taken the place of the old painted ones, while at the back of the standing-space there were stuffed sofa-benches. The room was divided into compartments in the approved manner, between which were screens of ground glass in mahogany framing, to prevent topers in one compartment being put to the blush by the recognitions of those in the next. On the inside of the counter two barmaids leant over the white-handled beer-engines, and the row of little silvered taps inside, dripping into a pewter trough.
Feeling tired, and having nothing more to do till the train left, Jude sat down on one of the sofas. At the back of the barmaids rose bevel-edged mirrors, with glass shelves running along their front, on which stood precious liquids that Jude did not know the name of, in bottles of topaz, sapphire, ruby and amethyst. The moment was enlivened by the entrance of some customers into the next compartment, and the starting of the mechanical tell-tale of monies received, which emitted a ting-ting every time a coin was put in.
The barmaid attending to this compartment was invisible to Jude's direct glance, though a reflection of her back in the glass behind her was occasionally caught by his eyes. He had only observed this listlessly, when she turned her face for a moment to the glass to set her hair tidy. Then he was amazed to discover that the face was Arabella's.
If she had come on to his compartment she would have seen him. But she did not, this being presided over by the maiden on the other side. Abby was in a black gown, with white linen cuffs and a broad white collar, and her figure, more developed than formerly, was accentuated by a bunch of daffodils that she wore on her left bosom. In the compartment she served stood an electro-plated fountain of water over a spirit-lamp, whose blue flame sent a steam from the top, all this being visible to him only in the mirror behind her; which also reflected the faces of the men she was attending to--one of them a handsome, dissipated young fellow, possibly an undergraduate, who had been relating to her an experience of some humorous sort.
"Oh, Mr. Cockman, now! How can you tell such a tale to me in my innocence!" she cried gaily. "Mr. Cockman, what do you use to make your moustache curl so beautiful?" As the young man was clean shaven the retort provoked a laugh at his expense.
