"Oh no! But it has been known a long time that it is his plan. He's on'y waiting here for an opening. Ah, well; he must walk about with somebody, I s'pose. Young men don't mean much nowadays. 'Tis a sip here and a sip there with 'em. 'Twas different in my time."
When the gossip had departed Arabella said, suddenly, to her mother: "I want you and father to go and inquire how the Edlins be, this evening after tea. Or no—there's evening service at Fensworth—you can walk to that."
"Oh! What's up to-night, then?"
"Nothing. Only I want the house to myself. He's shy; and I can't get un to come in when you are here. I shall let him slip through my fingers if I don't mind, much as I care for 'n!"
"If it is fine we med as well go, since you wish."
In the afternoon Arabella met and walked with Jude who had now for weeks ceased to look into a book of Greek, Latin, or any other tongue. They wandered up the slopes till they reached the green track along the ridge, which they followed to the circular British earth-bank adjoining, Jude thinking of the great age of the trackway, and of the drovers who had frequented it, probably before the Romans knew the country. Up from the level lands below them floated the chime of church bells. Presently they were reduced to one note, which quickened and stopped.
"Now we'll go back," said Arabella, who had attended to the sounds.
Jude assented. So long as he was near her he minded little where he was. When they arrived at her house he said, lingeringly: "I won't come in. Why are you in such a hurry to go in to-night? It is not near dark."
"Wait a moment," said she. She tried the handle of the door and found it locked. "Ah—they are gone to church," she added. And, searching behind the scraper she found the key and unlocked the door. "Now, you'll
