raw and cold air from the Meadows he sat over his lamp in a
great-coat, hat, and woollen gloves.
    From his window he could perceive the spire of the Cathedral, and the ogee
dome under which resounded the great bell of the city. The tall tower, tall
belfry windows, and tall pinnacles of the college by the bridge he could also
get a glimpse of by going to the staircase. These objects he used as stimulants
when his faith in the future was dim.
    Like enthusiasts in general he made no inquiries into details of procedure.
Picking up general notions from casual acquaintance, he never dwelt upon them.
For the present, he said to himself, the one thing necessary was to get ready by
accumulating money and knowledge, and await whatever chances were afforded to
such an one of becoming a son of the University. »For wisdom is a defence, and
money is a defence; but the excellency of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life
to them that have it.« His desire absorbed him, and left no part of him to weigh
its practicability.
    At this time he received a nervously anxious letter from his poor old aunt,
on the subject which had previously distressed her - a fear that Jude would not
be strong-minded enough to keep away from his cousin Sue Bridehead and her
relations. Sue's father, his aunt believed, had gone back to London, but the
girl remained at Christminster. To make her still more objectionable she was an
artist or designer of some sort in what was called an ecclesiastical warehouse,
which was a perfect seed-bed of idolatry, and she was no doubt abandoned to
mummeries on that account - if not quite a Papist. (Miss Drusilla Fawley was of
her date, Evangelical.)
    As Jude was rather on an intellectual track than a theological, this news of
Sue's probable opinions did not much influence him one way or the other, but the
clue to her whereabouts was decidedly interesting. With an altogether singular
pleasure he walked at his earliest spare minutes past the shops answering to his
great-aunt's description; and beheld in one of them a young girl sitting behind
a desk, who was suspiciously like the original of the portrait. He ventured to
enter on a trivial errand, and having made his purchase lingered on the scene.
The shop seemed to be kept entirely by women. It contained Anglican books,
stationery, texts, and fancy goods: little plaster angels on brackets,
Gothic-framed pictures of saints, ebony crosses that were almost crucifixes,
prayer-books that were almost