the ideal of a catastrophic manner, fumbled with iterations. `But I am glad I found the grave. As 'tis your trade, Jude, you'll be able to put up a handsome stone to 'em.'

`I shall put up a headstone,' said Jude drearily.

`He was my child, and naturally I feel for him.'

`I hope so. We all did.'

`The others that weren't mine I didn't feel so much for, as was natural.'

`Of course.'

A sigh came from the dark corner where Sue sat.

`I had often wished I had mine with me,' continued Mrs. Cartlett. `Perhaps 'twouldn't have happened then! But of course I didn't wish to take him away from your wife.'

`I am not his wife,' came from Sue.

The unexpectedness of her words struck Jude silent.

`Oh, I beg your pardon, I'm sure,' said Arabella. `I thought you were!'

Jude had known from the quality of Sue's tone that her new and transcendental views lurked in her words; but all except their obvious meaning was, naturally, missed by Arabella. The latter, after evincing that she was struck by Sue's avowal, recovered herself, and went on to talk with placid bluntness about `her' boy, for whom, though in his lifetime she had shown no care at all, she now exhibited a ceremonial mournfulness that was apparently sustaining to the conscience. She alluded to the past, and in making some remark appealed again to Sue. There was no answer: Sue had invisibly left the room.

`She said she was not your wife?' resumed Arabella in another voice. `Why should she do that?'

`I cannot inform you,' said Jude shortly.

`She is, isn't she? She once told me so.'

`I don't criticize what she says.'

`Ah - I see! Well, my time is up. I am staying here to-night, and thought I could do no less than call, after our mutual affliction. I am sleeping at the place where I used to be barmaid, and to-morrow I go back to Alfredston. Father is come home again, and I am living with him.'

`He has returned from Australia?' said Jude with languid curiosity.

`Yes. Couldn't get on there. Had a rough time of it. Mother died of dys - what do you call it - in the hot weather, and Father and two of the young ones have just got back. He has got a cottage near the old place, and for the present I am keeping house for him.'

Jude's former wife had maintained a stereotyped manner of strict good breeding even now that Sue was gone, and limited her stay to a number of minutes that should accord with the highest respectability. When she had departed Jude, much relieved, went to the stairs and called Sue - feeling anxious as to what had become of her.

There was no answer, and the carpenter who kept the lodgings said she had not come in. Jude was puzzled, and became quite alarmed at her absence, for the hour was growing late. The carpenter called his wife, who conjectured that Sue might have gone to St. Silas' church, as she often went there.