Lydgate was bowing his neck under the yoke like a creature who hadtalons, but who had Reason too, which often reduces us to meekness.When he had spoken the last words in an imploring tone, Rosamondreturned to the chair by his side. His self-blame gave her some hope thathe would attend to her opinion, and she said—
"Why can you not put off having the inventory made? You can sendthe men away to-morrow when they come."
"I shall not send them away," said Lydgate, the peremptoriness risingagain. Was it of any use to explain?
"If we left Middlemarch? there would of course be a sale, and thatwould do as well."
"But we are not going to leave Middlemarch."
"I am sure, Tertius, it would be much better to do so. Why can wenot go to London? Or near Durham, where your family is known?"
"We can go nowhere without money, Rosamond."
"Your friends would not wish you to be without money. And surelythese odious tradesmen might be made to understand that, and to wait,if you would make proper representations to them."
"This is idle Rosamond," said Lydgate, angrily. "You must learn totake my judgment on questions you don't understand. I have madenecessary arrangements, and they must be carried out. As to friends, Ihave no expectations whatever from them, and shall not ask them foranything."
Rosamond sat perfectly still. The thought in her mind was that if shehad known how Lydgate would behave, she would never have marriedhim.
"We have no time to waste now on unnecessary words, dear," saidLydgate, trying to be gentle again. "There are some details that I want toconsider with you. Dover says he will take a good deal of the plate backagain, and any of the jewellery we like. He really behaves very well."
"Are we to go without spoons and forks then?" said Rosamond,whose very lips seemed to get thinner with the thinness of her utterance.She was determined to make no further resistance or suggestions.
"Oh no, dear!" said Lydgate. "But look here," he continued, drawing apaper from his pocket and opening it; "here is Dover's account. See, Ihave marked a number of articles, which if we returned them wouldreduce the amount by thirty pounds and more. I have not marked any ofthe jewellery." Lydgate had really felt this point of the jewellery verybitter to himself; but he had overcome the feeling by severe argument.He could not propose to Rosamond that she should return any particularpresent of his, but he had told himself that he was bound to put Dover'soffer before her, and her inward prompting might make the affair easy.
"It is useless for me to look, Tertius," said Rosamond, calmly; "youwill return what you please." She would not turn her eyes on the paper,and Lydgate, flushing up to the roots of his hair, drew it back and let itfall on his knee. Meanwhile Rosamond quietly went out of the room,leaving Lydgate helpless and wondering. Was she not coming back? Itseemed that she had no more identified herself with him than if they hadbeen creatures of different species and opposing interests. He tossed hishead and thrust his hands deep into his pockets with a sort ofvengeance. There was still science—there were still good objects to workfor. He must give a tug still—all the stronger because other satisfactionswere going.
But the door opened and Rosamond re-entered. She carried theleather box containing the amethysts, and a tiny ornamental basketwhich contained other boxes, and laying them on the chair where shehad been sitting, she said, with perfect propriety in her air—
"This is all the jewellery you ever gave me. You can return what youlike of it, and of the plate also. You will not, of course, expect me to stayat home to-morrow. I shall go to papa's."
To many women the look Lydgate cast at her would have been moreterrible than one of anger: it had in it a despairing acceptance of thedistance she was placing between them.
"And when shall you come back again?" he said, with a bitter edgeon his accent.
"Oh, in the evening. Of course I shall not mention the subject tomamma." Rosamond was convinced that no woman could behave moreirreproachably than she was behaving; and she went to sit down at herwork-table. Lydgate sat meditating a minute or two, and the result wasthat he said, with some of the old emotion in his tone—
"Now we have been united, Rosy, you should not leave me to myselfin the first trouble that has come."
"Certainly not," said Rosamond; "I shall do everything it becomes meto do."
"It is not right that the thing should be left to servants, or that Ishould have to speak to them about it. And I shall be obliged to go out—I don't know how early. I understand your shrinking from thehumiliation of these money affairs. But, my dear Rosamond, as aquestion of pride, which I feel just as much as you can, it is surely betterto manage the thing ourselves, and let the servants see as little of it aspossible; and since you are my wife, there is no hindering your share inmy disgraces—if there were disgraces."
Rosamond did not answer immediately, but at last she said, "Verywell, I will stay at home."
"I shall not touch these jewels, Rosy. Take them away again. But Iwill write out a list of plate that we may return, and that can be packedup and sent at once."
"The servants will know that," said Rosamond, with the slightesttouch of sarcasm.
"Well, we must meet some disagreeables as necessities. Where is theink, I wonder?" said Lydgate, rising, and throwing the account on thelarger table where he meant to write.
Rosamond went to reach the inkstand, and after setting it on thetable was going to turn away, when Lydgate, who was standing close by,put his arm round her and drew her towards him, saying—
"Come, darling, let us make the best of things. It will only be for atime, I hope, that we shall have to be stingy and particular. Kiss me."
His native warm-heartedness took a great deal of quenching, and it isa part of manliness for a husband to feel keenly the fact that aninexperienced girl has got into trouble by marrying him. She received hiskiss and returned it faintly, and in this way an appearance of accord wasrecovered for the time. But Lydgate could not help looking forward withdread to the inevitable future discussions about expenditure and thenecessity for a complete change in their way of living.
CHAPTER LIX.
They said of old the Soul had human shape,
But smaller, subtler than the fleshly self,
So wandered forth for airing when it pleased.
And see! beside her cherub-face there floats
A pale-lipped form aerial whispering
Its promptings in that little shell her ear."
News is often dispersed as thoughtlessly and effectively as thatpollen which the bees carry off (having no idea how powdery they are)when they are buzzing in search of their particular nectar. This finecomparison has reference to Fred Vincy, who on that evening at LowickParsonage heard a lively discussion among the ladies on the news whichtheir old servant had got from Tantripp concerning Mr. Casaubon'sstrange mention of Mr. Ladislaw in a codicil to his will made not longbefore his death. Miss Winifred was astounded to find that her brotherhad known the fact before, and observed that Camden was the mostwonderful man for knowing things and not telling them; whereuponMary Garth said that the codicil had perhaps got mixed up with thehabits of spiders, which Miss Winifred never would listen to. Mrs.Farebrother considered that the news had something to do with theirhaving only once seen Mr. Ladislaw at Lowick, and Miss Noble mademany small compassionate mewings.
Fred knew little and cared less about Ladislaw and the Casaubons,and his mind never recurred to that discussion till one day calling onRosamond at his mother's request to deliver a message as he passed, hehappened to see Ladislaw going away. Fred and Rosamond had little tosay to each other now that marriage had removed her from collision withthe unpleasantness of brothers, and especially now that he had takenwhat she held the stupid and even reprehensible step of giving up theChurch to take to such a business as Mr. Garth's. Hence Fred talked bypreference of what he considered indifferent news, and "a propos of thatyoung Ladislaw" mentioned what he had heard at Lowick Parsonage.
Now Lydgate, like Mr. Farebrother, knew a great deal more than hetold, and when he had once been set thinking about the relation betweenWill and Dorothea his conjectures had gone beyond the fact. Heimagined that there was a passionate attachment on both sides, and thisstruck him as much too serious to gossip about. He remembered Will'sirritability when he had mentioned Mrs. Casaubon, and was the morecircumspect. On the whole his surmises, in addition to what he knew ofthe fact, increased his friendliness and tolerance towards Ladislaw, andmade him understand the vacillation which kept him at Middlemarchafter he had said that he should go away. It was significant of theseparateness between Lydgate's mind and Rosamond's that he had noimpulse to speak to her on the subject; indeed, he did not quite trust herreticence towards Will. And he was right there; though he had no visionof the way in which her mind would act in urging her to speak.
When she repeated Fred's news to Lydgate, he said, "Take care youdon't drop the faintest hint to Ladislaw, Rosy. He is likely to fly out as ifyou insulted him. Of course it is a painful affair."
Rosamond turned her neck and patted her hair, looking the image ofplacid indifference. But the next time Will came when Lydgate was away,she spoke archly about his not going to London as he had threatened.
"I know all about it. I have a confidential little bird," said she,showing very pretty airs of her head over the bit of work held highbetween her active fingers. "There is a powerful magnet in thisneighborhood."
"To be sure there is. Nobody knows that better than you," said Will,with light gallantry, but inwardly prepared to be angry.
"It is really the most charming romance: Mr. Casaubon jealous, andforeseeing that there was no one else whom Mrs. Casaubon would somuch like to marry, and no one who would so much like to marry her asa certain gentleman; and then laying a plan to spoil all by making herforfeit her property if she did marry that gentleman—and then—andthen—and then—oh, I have no doubt the end will be thoroughlyromantic."
"Great God! what do you mean?" said Will, flushing over face andears, his features seeming to change as if he had had a violent shake."Don't joke; tell me what you mean."
"You don't really know?" said Rosamond, no longer playful, anddesiring nothing better than to tell in order that she might evoke effects.
"No!" he returned, impatiently.
"Don't know that Mr. Casaubon has left it in his will that if Mrs.Casaubon marries you she is to forfeit all her property?"
"How do you know that it is true?" said Will, eagerly.
"My brother Fred heard it from the Farebrothers." Will started upfrom his chair and reached his hat.
"I dare say she likes you better than the property," said Rosamond,looking at him from a distance.
"Pray don't say any more about it," said Will, in a hoarse undertoneextremely unlike his usual light voice. "It is a foul insult to her and tome." Then he sat down absently, looking before him, but seeing nothing.
"Now you are angry with me," said Rosamond. "It is too bad to bearme malice. You ought to be obliged to me for telling you."
"So I am," said Will, abruptly, speaking with that kind of double soulwhich belongs to dreamers who answer questions.
"I expect to hear of the marriage," said Rosamond, playfully.
"Never! You will never hear of the marriage!"
With those words uttered impetuously, Will rose, put out his hand toRosamond, still with the air of a somnambulist, and went away.
When he was gone, Rosamond left her chair and walked to the otherend of the room, leaning when she got there against a chiffonniere, andlooking out of the window wearily. She was oppressed by ennui, and bythat dissatisfaction which in women's minds is continually turning into atrivial jealousy, referring to no real claims, springing from no deeperpassion than the vague exactingness of egoism, and yet capable ofimpelling action as well as speech. "There really is nothing to care formuch," said poor Rosamond inwardly, thinking of the family atQuallingham, who did not write to her; and that perhaps Tertius whenhe came home would tease her about expenses. She had already secretlydisobeyed him by asking her father to help them, and he had endeddecisively by saying, "I am more likely to want help myself."
CHAPTER LX.
Good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable.
—Justice Shallow.
A few days afterwards—it was already the end of August—there wasan occasion which caused some excitement in Middlemarch: the public,if it chose, was to have the advantage of buying, under the distinguishedauspices of Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, the furniture, books, and pictureswhich anybody might see by the handbills to be the best in every kind,belonging to Edwin Larcher, Esq. This was not one of the sales indicatingthe depression of trade; on the contrary, it was due to Mr. Larcher'sgreat success in the carrying business, which warranted his purchase of amansion near Riverston already furnished in high style by an illustriousSpa physician—furnished indeed with such large framefuls of expensiveflesh-painting in the dining-room, that Mrs. Larcher was nervous untilreassured by finding the subjects to be Scriptural. Hence the fineopportunity to purchasers which was well pointed out in the handbills ofMr. Borthrop Trumbull, whose acquaintance with the history of artenabled him to state that the hall furniture, to be sold without reserve,comprised a piece of carving by a contemporary of Gibbons.
At Middlemarch in those times a large sale was regarded as a kind offestival. There was a table spread with the best cold eatables, as at asuperior funeral; and facilities were offered for that generous-drinking ofcheerful glasses which might lead to generous and cheerful bidding forundesirable articles. Mr. Larcher's sale was the more attractive in thefine weather because the house stood just at the end of the town, with agarden and stables attached, in that pleasant issue from Middlemarchcalled the London Road, which was also the road to the New Hospitaland to Mr. Bulstrode's retired residence, known as the Shrubs. In short,the auction was as good as a fair, and drew all classes with leisure atcommand: to some, who risked making bids in order simply to raiseprices, it was almost equal to betting at the races. The second day, whenthe best furniture was to be sold, "everybody" was there; even Mr.Thesiger, the rector of St. Peter's, had looked in for a short time, wishingto buy the carved table, and had rubbed elbows with Mr. Bambridge andMr. Horrock. There was a wreath of Middlemarch ladies accommodatedwith seats round the large table in the dining-room, where Mr. BorthropTrumbull was mounted with desk and hammer; but the rows chiefly ofmasculine faces behind were often varied by incomings and outgoingsboth from the door and the large bow-window opening on to the lawn.
