There was a serious pleading in Lydgate's tone, as if he felt that shewould be injuring him by any fantastic delays. Rosamond became serioustoo, and slightly meditative; in fact, she was going through manyintricacies of lace-edging and hosiery and petticoat-tucking, in order togive an answer that would at least be approximative.
"Six weeks would be ample—say so, Rosamond," insisted Lydgate,releasing her hands to put his arm gently round her.
One little hand immediately went to pat her hair, while she gave herneck a meditative turn, and then said seriously—
"There would be the house-linen and the furniture to be prepared.Still, mamma could see to those while we were away."
"Yes, to be sure. We must be away a week or so."
"Oh, more than that!" said Rosamond, earnestly. She was thinking ofher evening dresses for the visit to Sir Godwin Lydgate's, which she hadlong been secretly hoping for as a delightful employment of at least onequarter of the honeymoon, even if she deferred her introduction to theuncle who was a doctor of divinity (also a pleasing though sober kind ofrank, when sustained by blood). She looked at her lover with somewondering remonstrance as she spoke, and he readily understood thatshe might wish to lengthen the sweet time of double solitude.
"Whatever you wish, my darling, when the day is fixed. But let ustake a decided course, and put an end to any discomfort you may besuffering. Six weeks!—I am sure they would be ample."
"I could certainly hasten the work," said Rosamond. "Will you, then,mention it to papa?—I think it would be better to write to him." Sheblushed and looked at him as the garden flowers look at us when wewalk forth happily among them in the transcendent evening light: isthere not a soul beyond utterance, half nymph, half child, in thosedelicate petals which glow and breathe about the centres of deep color?
He touched her ear and a little bit of neck under it with his lips, andthey sat quite still for many minutes which flowed by them like a smallgurgling brook with the kisses of the sun upon it. Rosamond thought thatno one could be more in love than she was; and Lydgate thought thatafter all his wild mistakes and absurd credulity, he had found perfectwomanhood—felt as if already breathed upon by exquisite weddedaffection such as would be bestowed by an accomplished creature whovenerated his high musings and momentous labors and would neverinterfere with them; who would create order in the home and accountswith still magic, yet keep her fingers ready to touch the lute andtransform life into romance at any moment; who was instructed to thetrue womanly limit and not a hair's-breadth beyond—docile, therefore,and ready to carry out behests which came from that limit. It was plainernow than ever that his notion of remaining much longer a bachelor hadbeen a mistake: marriage would not be an obstruction but a furtherance.And happening the next day to accompany a patient to Brassing, he sawa dinner-service there which struck him as so exactly the right thing thathe bought it at once. It saved time to do these things just when youthought of them, and Lydgate hated ugly crockery. The dinner-service inquestion was expensive, but that might be in the nature of dinner-services. Furnishing was necessarily expensive; but then it had to bedone only once.
"It must be lovely," said Mrs. Vincy, when Lydgate mentioned hispurchase with some descriptive touches. "Just what Rosy ought to have. Itrust in heaven it won't be broken!"
"One must hire servants who will not break things," said Lydgate.(Certainly, this was reasoning with an imperfect vision of sequences. Butat that period there was no sort of reasoning which was not more or lesssanctioned by men of science.)
Of course it was unnecessary to defer the mention of anything tomamma, who did not readily take views that were not cheerful, andbeing a happy wife herself, had hardly any feeling but pride in herdaughter's marriage. But Rosamond had good reasons for suggesting toLydgate that papa should be appealed to in writing. She prepared for thearrival of the letter by walking with her papa to the warehouse the nextmorning, and telling him on the way that Mr. Lydgate wished to bemarried soon.
"Nonsense, my dear!" said Mr. Vincy. "What has he got to marry on?You'd much better give up the engagement. I've told you so pretty plainlybefore this. What have you had such an education for, if you are to goand marry a poor man? It's a cruel thing for a father to see."
"Mr. Lydgate is not poor, papa. He bought Mr. Peacock's practice,which, they say, is worth eight or nine hundred a-year."
"Stuff and nonsense! What's buying a practice? He might as well buynext year's swallows. It'll all slip through his fingers."
"On the contrary, papa, he will increase the practice. See how he hasbeen called in by the Chettams and Casaubons."
"I hope he knows I shan't give anything—with this disappointmentabout Fred, and Parliament going to be dissolved, and machine-breakingeverywhere, and an election coming on—"
"Dear papa! what can that have to do with my marriage?"
"A pretty deal to do with it! We may all be ruined for what I know—the country's in that state! Some say it's the end of the world, and behanged if I don't think it looks like it! Anyhow, it's not a time for me tobe drawing money out of my business, and I should wish Lydgate toknow that."
"I am sure he expects nothing, papa. And he has such very highconnections: he is sure to rise in one way or another. He is engaged inmaking scientific discoveries."
Mr. Vincy was silent.
"I cannot give up my only prospect of happiness, papa Mr. Lydgate isa gentleman. I could never love any one who was not a perfectgentleman. You would not like me to go into a consumption, as ArabellaHawley did. And you know that I never change my mind."
Again papa was silent.
"Promise me, papa, that you will consent to what we wish. We shallnever give each other up; and you know that you have always objected tolong courtships and late marriages."
There was a little more urgency of this kind, till Mr. Vincy said,"Well, well, child, he must write to me first before I can answer him,"—and Rosamond was certain that she had gained her point.
Mr. Vincy's answer consisted chiefly in a demand that Lydgateshould insure his life—a demand immediately conceded. This was adelightfully reassuring idea supposing that Lydgate died, but in the meantime not a self-supporting idea. However, it seemed to make everythingcomfortable about Rosamond's marriage; and the necessary purchaseswent on with much spirit. Not without prudential considerations,however. A bride (who is going to visit at a baronet's) must have a fewfirst-rate pocket-handkerchiefs; but beyond the absolutely necessary half-dozen, Rosamond contented herself without the very highest style ofembroidery and Valenciennes. Lydgate also, finding that his sum of eighthundred pounds had been considerably reduced since he had come toMiddlemarch, restrained his inclination for some plate of an old patternwhich was shown to him when he went into Kibble's establishment atBrassing to buy forks and spoons. He was too proud to act as if hepresupposed that Mr. Vincy would advance money to provide furniture-;and though, since it would not be necessary to pay for everything atonce, some bills would be left standing over, he did not waste time inconjecturing how much his father-in-law would give in the form ofdowry, to make payment easy. He was not going to do anythingextravagant, but the requisite things must be bought, and it would bebad economy to buy them of a poor quality. All these matters were bythe bye. Lydgate foresaw that science and his profession were the objectshe should alone pursue enthusiastically; but he could not imagine himselfpursuing them in such a home as Wrench had—the doors all open, theoil-cloth worn, the children in soiled pinafores, and lunch lingering in theform of bones, black-handled knives, and willow-pattern. But Wrenchhad a wretched lymphatic wife who made a mummy of herself indoors ina large shawl; and he must have altogether begun with an ill-chosendomestic apparatus.
Rosamond, however, was on her side much occupied withconjectures, though her quick imitative perception warned her againstbetraying them too crudely.
"I shall like so much to know your family," she said one day, whenthe wedding journey was being discussed. "We might perhaps take adirection that would allow us to see them as we returned. Which of youruncles do you like best?"
"Oh,—my uncle Godwin, I think. He is a good-natured old fellow."
"You were constantly at his house at Quallingham, when you were aboy, were you not? I should so like to see the old spot and everythingyou were used to. Does he know you are going to be married?"
"No," said Lydgate, carelessly, turning in his chair and rubbing hishair up.
"Do send him word of it, you naughty undutiful nephew. He willperhaps ask you to take me to Quallingham; and then you could showme about the grounds, and I could imagine you there when you were aboy. Remember, you see me in my home, just as it has been since I was achild. It is not fair that I should be so ignorant of yours. But perhaps youwould be a little ashamed of me. I forgot that."
Lydgate smiled at her tenderly, and really accepted the suggestionthat the proud pleasure of showing so charming a bride was worth sometrouble. And now he came to think of it, he would like to see the oldspots with Rosamond.
"I will write to him, then. But my cousins are bores."
It seemed magnificent to Rosamond to be able to speak so slightinglyof a baronet's family, and she felt much contentment in the prospect ofbeing able to estimate them contemptuously on her own account.
But mamma was near spoiling all, a day or two later, by saying—
"I hope your uncle Sir Godwin will not look down on Rosy, Mr.Lydgate. I should think he would do something handsome. A thousand ortwo can be nothing to a baronet."
"Mamma!" said Rosamond, blushing deeply; and Lydgate pitied herso much that he remained silent and went to the other end of the roomto examine a print curiously, as if he had been absent-minded. Mammahad a little filial lecture afterwards, and was docile as usual. ButRosamond reflected that if any of those high-bred cousins who werebores, should be induced to visit Middlemarch, they would see manythings in her own family which might shock them. Hence it seemeddesirable that Lydgate should by-and-by get some first-rate positionelsewhere than in Middlemarch; and this could hardly be difficult in thecase of a man who had a titled uncle and could make discoveries.Lydgate, you perceive, had talked fervidly to Rosamond of his hopes asto the highest uses of his life, and had found it delightful to be listenedto by a creature who would bring him the sweet furtherance of satisfyingaffection—beauty—repose—such help as our thoughts get from thesummer sky and the flower-fringed meadows.
Lydgate relied much on the psychological difference between whatfor the sake of variety I will call goose and gander: especially on theinnate submissiveness of the goose as beautifully corresponding to thestrength of the gander.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
"Thrice happy she that is so well assured
Unto herself and settled so in heart
That neither will for better be allured
Ne fears to worse with any chance to start,
But like a steddy ship doth strongly part
The raging waves and keeps her course aright;
Ne aught for tempest doth from it depart,
Ne aught for fairer weather's false delight.
Such self-assurance need not fear the spight
Of grudging foes; ne favour seek of friends;
But in the stay of her own stedfast might
Neither to one herself nor other bends.
Most happy she that most assured doth rest,
But he most happy who such one loves best."
—SPENSER.
The doubt hinted by Mr. Vincy whether it were only the generalelection or the end of the world that was coming on, now that Georgethe Fourth was dead, Parliament dissolved, Wellington and Peel generallydepreciated and the new King apologetic, was a feeble type of theuncertainties in provincial opinion at that time. With the glow-wormlights of country places, how could men see which were their ownthoughts in the confusion of a Tory Ministry passing Liberal measures, ofTory nobles and electors being anxious to return Liberals rather thanfriends of the recreant Ministers, and of outcries for remedies whichseemed to have a mysteriously remote bearing on private interest, andwere made suspicious by the advocacy of disagreeable neighbors? Buyersof the Middlemarch newspapers found themselves in an anomalousposition: during the agitation on the Catholic Question many had givenup the "Pioneer"—which had a motto from Charles James Fox and was inthe van of progress—because it had taken Peel's side about the Papists,and had thus blotted its Liberalism with a toleration of Jesuitry and Baal;but they were ill-satisfied with the "Trumpet," which—since its blastsagainst Rome, and in the general flaccidity of the public mind (nobodyknowing who would support whom)—had become feeble in its blowing. It was a time, according to a noticeable article in the "Pioneer," whenthe crying needs of the country might well counteract a reluctance topublic action on the part of men whose minds had from long experienceacquired breadth as well as concentration, decision of judgment as wellas tolerance, dispassionateness as well as energy—in fact, all thosequalities which in the melancholy experience of mankind have been theleast disposed to share lodgings.
Mr. Hackbutt, whose fluent speech was at that time floating morewidely than usual, and leaving much uncertainty as to its ultimatechannel, was heard to say in Mr. Hawley's office that the article inquestion "emanated" from Brooke of Tipton, and that Brooke had secretlybought the "Pioneer" some months ago.
"That means mischief, eh?" said Mr. Hawley. "He's got the freak ofbeing a popular man now, after dangling about like a stray tortoise. Somuch the worse for him. I've had my eye on him for some time. He shallbe prettily pumped upon. He's a damned bad landlord. What businesshas an old county man to come currying favor with a low set of dark-blue freemen? As to his paper, I only hope he may do the writinghimself. It would be worth our paying for."
