Mrs. Vincy's belief that Rosamond could manage her papa was wellfounded. Apart from his dinners and his coursing, Mr. Vincy, blusteringas he was, had as little of his own way as if he had been a primeminister: the force of circumstances was easily too much for him, as it isfor most pleasure-loving florid men; and the circumstance calledRosamond was particularly forcible by means of that mild persistencewhich, as we know, enables a white soft living substance to make its wayin spite of opposing rock. Papa was not a rock: he had no other fixitythan that fixity of alternating impulses sometimes called habit, and thiswas altogether unfavorable to his taking the only decisive line of conductin relation to his daughter's engagement—namely, to inquire thoroughlyinto Lydgate's circumstances, declare his own inability to furnish money,and forbid alike either a speedy marriage or an engagement which mustbe too lengthy. That seems very simple and easy in the statement; but adisagreeable resolve formed in the chill hours of the morning had asmany conditions against it as the early frost, and rarely persisted underthe warming influences of the day. The indirect though emphaticexpression of opinion to which Mr. Vincy was prone suffered muchrestraint in this case: Lydgate was a proud man towards whominnuendoes were obviously unsafe, and throwing his hat on the floor wasout of the question. Mr. Vincy was a little in awe of him, a little vainthat he wanted to marry Rosamond, a little indisposed to raise aquestion of money in which his own position was not advantageous, alittle afraid of being worsted in dialogue with a man better educated andmore highly bred than himself, and a little afraid of doing what hisdaughter would not like. The part Mr. Vincy preferred playing was thatof the generous host whom nobody criticises. In the earlier half of theday there was business to hinder any formal communication of anadverse resolve; in the later there was dinner, wine, whist, and generalsatisfaction. And in the mean while the hours were each leaving theirlittle deposit and gradually forming the final reason for inaction, namely,that action was too late. The accepted lover spent most of his evenings inLowick Gate, and a love-making not at all dependent on money-advancesfrom fathers-in-law, or prospective income from a profession, went onflourishingly under Mr. Vincy's own eyes. Young love-making—thatgossamer web! Even the points it clings to—the things whence its subtleinterlacings are swung—are scarcely perceptible: momentary touches offingertips, meetings of rays from blue and dark orbs, unfinished phrases,lightest changes of cheek and lip, faintest tremors. The web itself ismade of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one lifetowards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust. And Lydgatefell to spinning that web from his inward self with wonderful rapidity, inspite of experience supposed to be finished off with the drama of Laure—in spite too of medicine and biology; for the inspection of maceratedmuscle or of eyes presented in a dish (like Santa Lucia's), and otherincidents of scientific inquiry, are observed to be less incompatible withpoetic love than a native dulness or a lively addiction to the lowestprose. As for Rosamond, she was in the water-lily's expandingwonderment at its own fuller life, and she too was spinning industriouslyat the mutual web. All this went on in the corner of the drawing-roomwhere the piano stood, and subtle as it was, the light made it a sort ofrainbow visible to many observers besides Mr. Farebrother. The certaintythat Miss Vincy and Mr. Lydgate were engaged became general inMiddlemarch without the aid of formal announcement.
Aunt Bulstrode was again stirred to anxiety; but this time sheaddressed herself to her brother, going to the warehouse expressly toavoid Mrs. Vincy's volatility. His replies were not satisfactory.
"Walter, you never mean to tell me that you have allowed all this togo on without inquiry into Mr. Lydgate's prospects?" said Mrs.Bulstrode, opening her eyes with wider gravity at her brother, who wasin his peevish warehouse humor. "Think of this girl brought up inluxury—in too worldly a way, I am sorry to say—what will she do on asmall income?"
"Oh, confound it, Harriet! What can I do when men come into thetown without any asking of mine? Did you shut your house up againstLydgate? Bulstrode has pushed him forward more than anybody. I nevermade any fuss about the young fellow. You should go and talk to yourhusband about it, not me."
"Well, really, Walter, how can Mr. Bulstrode be to blame? I am surehe did not wish for the engagement."
"Oh, if Bulstrode had not taken him by the hand, I should never haveinvited him."
"But you called him in to attend on Fred, and I am sure that was amercy," said Mrs. Bulstrode, losing her clew in the intricacies of thesubject.
"I don't know about mercy," said Mr. Vincy, testily. "I know I amworried more than I like with my family. I was a good brother to you,Harriet, before you married Bulstrode, and I must say he doesn't alwaysshow that friendly spirit towards your family that might have beenexpected of him." Mr. Vincy was very little like a Jesuit, but noaccomplished Jesuit could have turned a question more adroitly. Harriethad to defend her husband instead of blaming her brother, and theconversation ended at a point as far from the beginning as some recentsparring between the brothers-in-law at a vestry meeting.
Mrs. Bulstrode did not repeat her brother's complaints to herhusband, but in the evening she spoke to him of Lydgate and Rosamond.He did not share her warm interest, however; and only spoke withresignation of the risks attendant on the beginning of medical practiceand the desirability of prudence.
"I am sure we are bound to pray for that thoughtless girl—broughtup as she has been," said Mrs. Bulstrode, wishing to rouse her husband'sfeelings.
"Truly, my dear," said Mr. Bulstrode, assentingly. "Those who are notof this world can do little else to arrest the errors of the obstinatelyworldly. That is what we must accustom ourselves to recognize withregard to your brother's family. I could have wished that Mr. Lydgatehad not entered into such a union; but my relations with him are limitedto that use of his gifts for God's purposes which is taught us by thedivine government under each dispensation."
Mrs. Bulstrode said no more, attributing some dissatisfaction whichshe felt to her own want of spirituality. She believed that her husbandwas one of those men whose memoirs should be written when they died.
As to Lydgate himself, having been accepted, he was prepared toaccept all the consequences which he believed himself to foresee withperfect clearness. Of course he must be married in a year—perhaps evenin half a year. This was not what he had intended; but other schemeswould not be hindered: they would simply adjust themselves anew.Marriage, of course, must be prepared for in the usual way. A housemust be taken instead of the rooms he at present occupied; and Lydgate,having heard Rosamond speak with admiration of old Mrs. Bretton'shouse (situated in Lowick Gate), took notice when it fell vacant after theold lady's death, and immediately entered into treaty for it.
He did this in an episodic way, very much as he gave orders to histailor for every requisite of perfect dress, without any notion of beingextravagant. On the contrary, he would have despised any ostentation ofexpense; his profession had familiarized him with all grades of poverty,and he cared much for those who suffered hardships. He would havebehaved perfectly at a table where the sauce was served in a jug with thehandle off, and he would have remembered nothing about a grand dinnerexcept that a man was there who talked well. But it had never occurredto him that he should live in any other than what he would have calledan ordinary way, with green glasses for hock, and excellent waiting attable. In warming himself at French social theories he had brought awayno smell of scorching. We may handle even extreme opinions withimpunity while our furniture, our dinner-giving, and preference forarmorial bearings in our own case, link us indissolubly with theestablished order. And Lydgate's tendency was not towards extremeopinions: he would have liked no barefooted doctrines, being particularabout his boots: he was no radical in relation to anything but medicalreform and the prosecution of discovery. In the rest of practical life hewalked by hereditary habit; half from that personal pride andunreflecting egoism which I have already called commonness, and halffrom that naivete which belonged to preoccupation with favorite ideas.
Any inward debate Lydgate had as to the consequences of thisengagement which had stolen upon him, turned on the paucity of timerather than of money. Certainly, being in love and being expectedcontinually by some one who always turned out to be prettier thanmemory could represent her to be, did interfere with the diligent use ofspare hours which might serve some "plodding fellow of a German" tomake the great, imminent discovery. This was really an argument for notdeferring the marriage too long, as he implied to Mr. Farebrother, oneday that the Vicar came to his room with some pond-products which hewanted to examine under a better microscope than his own, and, findingLydgate's tableful of apparatus and specimens in confusion, saidsarcastically—
"Eros has degenerated; he began by introducing order and harmony,and now he brings back chaos."
"Yes, at some stages," said Lydgate, lifting his brows and smiling,while he began to arrange his microscope. "But a better order will beginafter."
"Soon?" said the Vicar.
"I hope so, really. This unsettled state of affairs uses up the time,and when one has notions in science, every moment is an opportunity. Ifeel sure that marriage must be the best thing for a man who wants towork steadily. He has everything at home then—no teasing with personalspeculations—he can get calmness and freedom."
"You are an enviable dog," said the Vicar, "to have such a prospect—Rosamond, calmness and freedom, all to your share. Here am I withnothing but my pipe and pond-animalcules. Now, are you ready?"
Lydgate did not mention to the Vicar another reason he had forwishing to shorten the period of courtship. It was rather irritating tohim, even with the wine of love in his veins, to be obliged to mingle sooften with the family party at the Vincys', and to enter so much intoMiddlemarch gossip, protracted good cheer, whist-playing, and generalfutility. He had to be deferential when Mr. Vincy decided questions withtrenchant ignorance, especially as to those liquors which were the bestinward pickle, preserving you from the effects of bad air. Mrs. Vincy'sopenness and simplicity were quite unstreaked with suspicion as to thesubtle offence she might give to the taste of her intended son-in-law; andaltogether Lydgate had to confess to himself that he was descending alittle in relation to Rosamond's family. But that exquisite creature herselfsuffered in the same sort of way:—it was at least one delightful thoughtthat in marrying her, he could give her a much-needed transplantation.
"Dear!" he said to her one evening, in his gentlest tone, as he satdown by her and looked closely at her face—
But I must first say that he had found her alone in the drawing-room,where the great old-fashioned window, almost as large as the side of theroom, was opened to the summer scents of the garden at the back of thehouse. Her father and mother were gone to a party, and the rest were allout with the butterflies.
"Dear! your eyelids are red."
"Are they?" said Rosamond. "I wonder why." It was not in her natureto pour forth wishes or grievances. They only came forth gracefully onsolicitation.
"As if you could hide it from me!"? said Lydgate, laying his handtenderly on both of hers. "Don't I see a tiny drop on one of the lashes?Things trouble you, and you don't tell me. That is unloving."
"Why should I tell you what you cannot alter? They are every-daythings:—perhaps they have been a little worse lately."
"Family annoyances. Don't fear speaking. I guess them."
"Papa has been more irritable lately. Fred makes him angry, and thismorning there was a fresh quarrel because Fred threatens to throw hiswhole education away, and do something quite beneath him. Andbesides—"
Rosamond hesitated, and her cheeks were gathering a slight flush.Lydgate had never seen her in trouble since the morning of theirengagement, and he had never felt so passionately towards her as at thismoment. He kissed the hesitating lips gently, as if to encourage them.
"I feel that papa is not quite pleased about our engagement,"Rosamond continued, almost in a whisper; "and he said last night that heshould certainly speak to you and say it must be given up."
"Will you give it up?" said Lydgate, with quick energy—almostangrily.
"I never give up anything that I choose to do," said Rosamond,recovering her calmness at the touching of this chord.
"God bless you!" said Lydgate, kissing her again. This constancy ofpurpose in the right place was adorable. He went on:—
"It is too late now for your father to say that our engagement must begiven up. You are of age, and I claim you as mine. If anything is done tomake you unhappy,—that is a reason for hastening our marriage."
An unmistakable delight shone forth from the blue eyes that met his,and the radiance seemed to light up all his future with mild sunshine.Ideal happiness (of the kind known in the Arabian Nights, in which youare invited to step from the labor and discord of the street into aparadise where everything is given to you and nothing claimed) seemedto be an affair of a few weeks' waiting, more or less.
"Why should we defer it?" he said, with ardent insistence. "I havetaken the house now: everything else can soon be got ready—can it not?You will not mind about new clothes. Those can be bought afterwards."
"What original notions you clever men have!" said Rosamond,dimpling with more thorough laughter than usual at this humorousincongruity. "This is the first time I ever heard of wedding-clothes beingbought after marriage."
"But you don't mean to say you would insist on my waiting monthsfor the sake of clothes?" said Lydgate, half thinking that Rosamond wastormenting him prettily, and half fearing that she really shrank fromspeedy marriage. "Remember, we are looking forward to a better sort ofhappiness even than this—being continually together, independent ofothers, and ordering our lives as we will. Come, dear, tell me how soonyou can be altogether mine."
