"Have you spoken to Trumbull yet?"
"No," said Lydgate, "but I shall call on him as I go by this morning.No time must be lost." He took Rosamond's question as a sign that shewithdrew her inward opposition, and kissed her head caressingly whenhe got up to go away.
As soon as it was late enough to make a call, Rosamond went to Mrs.Plymdale, Mr. Ned's mother, and entered with pretty congratulationsinto the subject of the coming marriage. Mrs. Plymdale's maternal viewwas, that Rosamond might possibly now have retrospective glimpses ofher own folly; and feeling the advantages to be at present all on the sideof her son, was too kind a woman not to behave graciously.
"Yes, Ned is most happy, I must say. And Sophy Toller is all I coulddesire in a daughter-in-law. Of course her father is able to do somethinghandsome for her—that is only what would be expected with a brewerylike his. And the connection is everything we should desire. But that isnot what I look at. She is such a very nice girl—no airs, no pretensions,though on a level with the first. I don't mean with the titled aristocracy. Isee very little good in people aiming out of their own sphere. I mean thatSophy is equal to the best in the town, and she is contented with that."
"I have always thought her very agreeable," said Rosamond.
"I look upon it as a reward for Ned, who never held his head toohigh, that he should have got into the very best connection," continuedMrs. Plymdale, her native sharpness softened by a fervid sense that shewas taking a correct view. "And such particular people as the Tollers are,they might have objected because some of our friends are not theirs. It iswell known that your aunt Bulstrode and I have been intimate from ouryouth, and Mr. Plymdale has been always on Mr. Bulstrode's side. And Imyself prefer serious opinions. But the Tollers have welcomed Ned allthe same."
"I am sure he is a very deserving, well-principled young man," saidRosamond, with a neat air of patronage in return for Mrs. Plymdale'swholesome corrections.
"Oh, he has not the style of a captain in the army, or that sort ofcarriage as if everybody was beneath him, or that showy kind of talking,and singing, and intellectual talent. But I am thankful he has not. It is apoor preparation both for here and Hereafter."
"Oh dear, yes; appearances have very little to do with happiness,"said Rosamond. "I think there is every prospect of their being a happycouple. What house will they take?"
"Oh, as for that, they must put up with what they can get. They havebeen looking at the house in St. Peter's Place, next to Mr. Hackbutt's; itbelongs to him, and he is putting it nicely in repair. I suppose they arenot likely to hear of a better. Indeed, I think Ned will decide the matterto-day."
"I should think it is a nice house; I like St. Peter's Place."
"Well, it is near the Church, and a genteel situation. But the windowsare narrow, and it is all ups and downs. You don't happen to know ofany other that would be at liberty?" said Mrs. Plymdale, fixing her roundblack eyes on Rosamond with the animation of a sudden thought inthem.
"Oh no; I hear so little of those things."
Rosamond had not foreseen that question and answer in setting outto pay her visit; she had simply meant to gather any information whichwould help her to avert the parting with her own house undercircumstances thoroughly disagreeable to her. As to the untruth in herreply, she no more reflected on it than she did on the untruth there wasin her saying that appearances had very little to do with happiness. Herobject, she was convinced, was thoroughly justifiable: it was Lydgatewhose intention was inexcusable; and there was a plan in her mindwhich, when she had carried it out fully, would prove how very false astep it would have been for him to have descended from his position.
She returned home by Mr. Borthrop Trumbull's office, meaning tocall there. It was the first time in her life that Rosamond had thought ofdoing anything in the form of business, but she felt equal to theoccasion. That she should be obliged to do what she intensely disliked,was an idea which turned her quiet tenacity into active invention. Herewas a case in which it could not be enough simply to disobey and beserenely, placidly obstinate: she must act according to her judgment, andshe said to herself that her judgment was right—"indeed, if it had notbeen, she would not have wished to act on it."
Mr. Trumbull was in the back-room of his office, and receivedRosamond with his finest manners, not only because he had muchsensibility to her charms, but because the good-natured fibre in him wasstirred by his certainty that Lydgate was in difficulties, and that thisuncommonly pretty woman—this young lady with the highest personalattractions—was likely to feel the pinch of trouble—to find herselfinvolved in circumstances beyond her control. He begged her to do himthe honor to take a seat, and stood before her trimming and comportinghimself with an eager solicitude, which was chiefly benevolent.Rosamond's first question was, whether her husband had called on Mr.Trumbull that morning, to speak about disposing of their house.
"Yes, ma'am, yes, he did; he did so," said the good auctioneer, tryingto throw something soothing into his iteration. "I was about to fulfil hisorder, if possible, this afternoon. He wished me not to procrastinate."
"I called to tell you not to go any further, Mr. Trumbull; and I beg ofyou not to mention what has been said on the subject. Will you obligeme?"
"Certainly I will, Mrs. Lydgate, certainly. Confidence is sacred withme on business or any other topic. I am then to consider the commissionwithdrawn?" said Mr. Trumbull, adjusting the long ends of his bluecravat with both hands, and looking at Rosamond deferentially.
"Yes, if you please. I find that Mr. Ned Plymdale has taken a house—the one in St. Peter's Place next to Mr. Hackbutt's. Mr. Lydgate would beannoyed that his orders should be fulfilled uselessly. And besides that,there are other circumstances which render the proposal unnecessary."
"Very good, Mrs. Lydgate, very good. I am at your commands,whenever you require any service of me," said Mr. Trumbull, who feltpleasure in conjecturing that some new resources had been opened. "Relyon me, I beg. The affair shall go no further."
That evening Lydgate was a little comforted by observing thatRosamond was more lively than she had usually been of late, and evenseemed interested in doing what would please him without being asked.He thought, "If she will be happy and I can rub through, what does it allsignify? It is only a narrow swamp that we have to pass in a longjourney. If I can get my mind clear again, I shall do."
He was so much cheered that he began to search for an account ofexperiments which he had long ago meant to look up, and had neglectedout of that creeping self-despair which comes in the train of pettyanxieties. He felt again some of the old delightful absorption in a far-reaching inquiry, while Rosamond played the quiet music which was ashelpful to his meditation as the plash of an oar on the evening lake. Itwas rather late; he had pushed away all the books, and was looking atthe fire with his hands clasped behind his head in forgetfulness ofeverything except the construction of a new controlling experiment, whenRosamond, who had left the piano and was leaning back in her chairwatching him, said—
"Mr. Ned Plymdale has taken a house already."
Lydgate, startled and jarred, looked up in silence for a moment, likea man who has been disturbed in his sleep. Then flushing with anunpleasant consciousness, he asked—
"How do you know?"
"I called at Mrs. Plymdale's this morning, and she told me that hehad taken the house in St. Peter's Place, next to Mr. Hackbutt's."
Lydgate was silent. He drew his hands from behind his head andpressed them against the hair which was hanging, as it was apt to do, ina mass on his forehead, while he rested his elbows on his knees. He wasfeeling bitter disappointment, as if he had opened a door out of asuffocating place and had found it walled up; but he also felt sure thatRosamond was pleased with the cause of his disappointment. Hepreferred not looking at her and not speaking, until he had got over thefirst spasm of vexation. After all, he said in his bitterness, what can awoman care about so much as house and furniture? a husband withoutthem is an absurdity. When he looked up and pushed his hair aside, hisdark eyes had a miserable blank non-expectance of sympathy in them,but he only said, coolly—
"Perhaps some one else may turn up. I told Trumbull to be on thelook-out if he failed with Plymdale."
Rosamond made no remark. She trusted to the chance that nothingmore would pass between her husband and the auctioneer until someissue should have justified her interference; at any rate, she hadhindered the event which she immediately dreaded. After a pause, shesaid—
"How much money is it that those disagreeable people want?"
"What disagreeable people?"
"Those who took the list—and the others. I mean, how much moneywould satisfy them so that you need not be troubled any more?"
Lydgate surveyed her for a moment, as if he were looking forsymptoms, and then said, "Oh, if I could have got six hundred fromPlymdale for furniture and as premium, I might have managed. I couldhave paid off Dover, and given enough on account to the others to makethem wait patiently, if we contracted our expenses."
"But I mean how much should you want if we stayed in this house?"
"More than I am likely to get anywhere," said Lydgate, with rather agrating sarcasm in his tone. It angered him to perceive that Rosamond'smind was wandering over impracticable wishes instead of facing possibleefforts.
"Why should you not mention the sum?" said Rosamond, with a mildindication that she did not like his manners.
"Well," said Lydgate in a guessing tone, "it would take at least athousand to set me at ease. But," he added, incisively, "I have to considerwhat I shall do without it, not with it."
Rosamond said no more.
But the next day she carried out her plan of writing to Sir GodwinLydgate. Since the Captain's visit, she had received a letter from him,and also one from Mrs. Mengan, his married sister, condoling with heron the loss of her baby, and expressing vaguely the hope that theyshould see her again at Quallingham. Lydgate had told her that thispoliteness meant nothing; but she was secretly convinced that anybackwardness in Lydgate's family towards him was due to his cold andcontemptuous behavior, and she had answered the letters in her mostcharming manner, feeling some confidence that a specific invitationwould follow. But there had been total silence. The Captain evidentlywas not a great penman, and Rosamond reflected that the sisters mighthave been abroad. However, the season was come for thinking of friendsat home, and at any rate Sir Godwin, who had chucked her under thechin, and pronounced her to be like the celebrated beauty, Mrs. Croly,who had made a conquest of him in 1790, would be touched by anyappeal from her, and would find it pleasant for her sake to behave as heought to do towards his nephew. Rosamond was naively convinced ofwhat an old gentleman ought to do to prevent her from sufferingannoyance. And she wrote what she considered the most judicious letterpossible—one which would strike Sir Godwin as a proof of her excellentsense—pointing out how desirable it was that Tertius should quit such aplace as Middlemarch for one more fitted to his talents, how theunpleasant character of the inhabitants had hindered his professionalsuccess, and how in consequence he was in money difficulties, fromwhich it would require a thousand pounds thoroughly to extricate him.She did not say that Tertius was unaware of her intention to write; forshe had the idea that his supposed sanction of her letter would be inaccordance with what she did say of his great regard for his uncleGodwin as the relative who had always been his best friend. Such wasthe force of Poor Rosamond's tactics now she applied them to affairs. This had happened before the party on New Year's Day, and noanswer had yet come from Sir Godwin. But on the morning of that dayLydgate had to learn that Rosamond had revoked his order to BorthropTrumbull. Feeling it necessary that she should be gradually accustomedto the idea of their quitting the house in Lowick Gate, he overcame hisreluctance to speak to her again on the subject, and when they werebreakfasting said—
"I shall try to see Trumbull this morning, and tell him to advertisethe house in the 'Pioneer' and the 'Trumpet.' If the thing were advertised,some one might be inclined to take it who would not otherwise havethought of a change. In these country places many people go on in theirold houses when their families are too large for them, for want ofknowing where they can find another. And Trumbull seems to have gotno bite at all."
Rosamond knew that the inevitable moment was come. "I orderedTrumbull not to inquire further," she said, with a careful calmness whichwas evidently defensive.
Lydgate stared at her in mute amazement. Only half an hour beforehe had been fastening up her plaits for her, and talking the "littlelanguage" of affection, which Rosamond, though not returning it,accepted as if she had been a serene and lovely image, now and thenmiraculously dimpling towards her votary. With such fibres still astir inhim, the shock he received could not at once be distinctly anger; it wasconfused pain. He laid down the knife and fork with which he wascarving, and throwing himself back in his chair, said at last, with a coolirony in his tone—
"May I ask when and why you did so?"
"When I knew that the Plymdales had taken a house, I called to tellhim not to mention ours to them; and at the same time I told him not tolet the affair go on any further. I knew that it would be very injurious toyou if it were known that you wished to part with your house andfurniture, and I had a very strong objection to it. I think that was reasonenough."
"It was of no consequence then that I had told you imperativereasons of another kind; of no consequence that I had come to a differentconclusion, and given an order accordingly?" said Lydgate, bitingly, thethunder and lightning gathering about his brow and eyes.
