by George Eliot
CHAPTER LVIII.
"For there can live no hatred in thine eye, Therefore in that I cannot know thy change: In many's looks the false heart's history Is writ in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange: But Heaven in thy creation did decree That in thy face sweet love should ever dwell: Whate'er thy thoughts or thy heart's workings be Thy looks should nothing thence but sweetness tell." --SHAKESPEARE: Sonnets.
At the time when Mr. Vincy uttered that presentiment about Rosamond,she herself had never had the idea that she should be driven to makethe sort of appeal which he foresaw. She had not yet had any anxietyabout ways and means, although her domestic life had been expensive aswell as eventful. Her baby had been born prematurely, and all theembroidered robes and caps had to be laid by in darkness. Thismisfortune was attributed entirely to her having persisted in going outon horseback one day when her husband had desired her not to do so; butit must not be supposed that she had shown temper on the occasion, orrudely told him that she would do as she liked.
What led her particularly to desire horse-exercise was a visit fromCaptain Lydgate, the baronet's third son, who, I am sorry to say, wasdetested by our Tertius of that name as a vapid fop "parting his hairfrom brow to nape in a despicable fashion" (not followed by Tertiushimself), and showing an ignorant security that he knew the properthing to say on every topic. Lydgate inwardly cursed his own follythat he had drawn down this visit by consenting to go to his uncle's onthe wedding-tour, and he made himself rather disagreeable to Rosamondby saying so in private. For to Rosamond this visit was a source ofunprecedented but gracefully concealed exultation. She was sointensely conscious of having a cousin who was a baronet's son stayingin the house, that she imagined the knowledge of what was implied byhis presence to be diffused through all other minds; and when sheintroduced Captain Lydgate to her guests, she had a placid sense thathis rank penetrated them as if it had been an odor. The satisfactionwas enough for the time to melt away some disappointment in theconditions of marriage with a medical man even of good birth: it seemednow that her marriage was visibly as well as ideally floating her abovethe Middlemarch level, and the future looked bright with letters andvisits to and from Quallingham, and vague advancement in consequencefor Tertius. Especially as, probably at the Captain's suggestion, hismarried sister, Mrs. Mengan, had come with her maid, and stayed twonights on her way from town. Hence it was clearly worth while forRosamond to take pains with her music and the careful selection of herlace.
As to Captain Lydgate himself, his low brow, his aquiline nose bent onone side, and his rather heavy utterance, might have beendisadvantageous in any young gentleman who had not a military bearingand mustache to give him what is doted on by some flower-like blondheads as "style." He had, moreover, that sort of high-breeding whichconsists in being free from the petty solicitudes of middle-classgentility, and he was a great critic of feminine charms. Rosamonddelighted in his admiration now even more than she had done atQuallingham, and he found it easy to spend several hours of the day inflirting with her. The visit altogether was one of the pleasantestlarks he had ever had, not the less so perhaps because he suspectedthat his queer cousin Tertius wished him away: though Lydgate, whowould rather (hyperbolically speaking) have died than have failed inpolite hospitality, suppressed his dislike, and only pretendedgenerally not to hear what the gallant officer said, consigning thetask of answering him to Rosamond. For he was not at all a jealoushusband, and preferred leaving a feather-headed young gentleman alonewith his wife to bearing him company.
"I wish you would talk more to the Captain at dinner, Tertius," saidRosamond, one evening when the important guest was gone to Loamford tosee some brother officers stationed there. "You really look so absentsometimes--you seem to be seeing through his head into something behindit, instead of looking at him."
"My dear Rosy, you don't expect me to talk much to such a conceited assas that, I hope," said Lydgate, brusquely. "If he got his head broken,I might look at it with interest, not before."
"I cannot conceive why you should speak of your cousin socontemptuously," said Rosamond, her fingers moving at her work whileshe spoke with a mild gravity which had a touch of disdain in it.
"Ask Ladislaw if he doesn't think your Captain the greatest bore heever met with. Ladislaw has almost forsaken the house since he came."
Rosamond thought she knew perfectly well why Mr. Ladislaw disliked theCaptain: he was jealous, and she liked his being jealous.
"It is impossible to say what will suit eccentric persons," sheanswered, "but in my opinion Captain Lydgate is a thorough gentleman,and I think you ought not, out of respect to Sir Godwin, to treat himwith neglect."
"No, dear; but we have had dinners for him. And he comes in and goesout as he likes. He doesn't want me."
"Still, when he is in the room, you might show him more attention. Hemay not be a phoenix of cleverness in your sense; his profession isdifferent; but it would be all the better for you to talk a little onhis subjects. _I_ think his conversation is quite agreeable. And heis anything but an unprincipled man."
"The fact is, you would wish me to be a little more like him, Rosy,"said Lydgate, in a sort of resigned murmur, with a smile which was notexactly tender, and certainly not merry. Rosamond was silent and didnot smile again; but the lovely curves of her face looked good-temperedenough without smiling.
Those words of Lydgate's were like a sad milestone marking how far hehad travelled from his old dreamland, in which Rosamond Vincy appearedto be that perfect piece of womanhood who would reverence her husband'smind after the fashion of an accomplished mermaid, using her comb andlooking-glass and singing her song for the relaxation of his adoredwisdom alone. He had begun to distinguish between that imaginedadoration and the attraction towards a man's talent because it giveshim prestige, and is like an order in his button-hole or an Honorablebefore his name.
It might have been supposed that Rosamond had travelled too, since shehad found the pointless conversation of Mr. Ned Plymdale perfectlywearisome; but to most mortals there is a stupidity which isunendurable and a stupidity which is altogether acceptable--else,indeed, what would become of social bonds? Captain Lydgate's stupiditywas delicately scented, carried itself with "style," talked with a goodaccent, and was closely related to Sir Godwin. Rosamond found it quiteagreeable and caught many of its phrases.
Therefore since Rosamond, as we know, was fond of horseback, there wereplenty of reasons why she should be tempted to resume her riding whenCaptain Lydgate, who had ordered his man with two horses to follow himand put up at the "Green Dragon," begged her to go out on the graywhich he warranted to be gentle and trained to carry a lady--indeed, hehad bought it for his sister, and was taking it to Quallingham.Rosamond went out the first time without telling her husband, and cameback before his return; but the ride had been so thorough a success,and she declared herself so much the better in consequence, that he wasinformed of it with full reliance on his consent that she should goriding again.
On the contrary Lydgate was more than hurt--he was utterly confoundedthat she had risked herself on a strange horse without referring thematter to his wish. After the first almost thundering exclamations ofastonishment, which sufficiently warned Rosamond of what was coming, hewas silent for some moments.
"However, you have come back safely," he said, at last, in a decisivetone. "You will not go again, Rosy; that is understood. If it werethe quietest, most familiar horse in the world, there would always bethe chance of accident. And you know very well that I wished you togive up riding the roan on that account."
"But there is the chance of accident indoors, Tertius."
"My darling, don't talk nonsense," said Lydgate, in an imploring tone;"surely I am the person to judge for you. I think it is enough that Isay you are not to go again."
Rosamond was arranging her hair before dinner, and the reflection ofher head in the glass showed no change in its l
oveliness except alittle turning aside of the long neck. Lydgate had been moving aboutwith his hands in his pockets, and now paused near her, as if heawaited some assurance.
"I wish you would fasten up my plaits, dear," said Rosamond, lettingher arms fall with a little sigh, so as to make a husband ashamed ofstanding there like a brute. Lydgate had often fastened the plaitsbefore, being among the deftest of men with his large finely formedfingers. He swept up the soft festoons of plaits and fastened in thetall comb (to such uses do men come!); and what could he do then butkiss the exquisite nape which was shown in all its delicate curves?But when we do what we have done before, it is often with a difference.Lydgate was still angry, and had not forgotten his point.
"I shall tell the Captain that he ought to have known better than offeryou his horse," he said, as he moved away.
"I beg you will not do anything of the kind, Tertius," said Rosamond,looking at him with something more marked than usual in her speech."It will be treating me as if I were a child. Promise that you willleave the subject to me."
There did seem to be some truth in her objection. Lydgate said, "Verywell," with a surly obedience, and thus the discussion ended with hispromising Rosamond, and not with her promising him.
In fact, she had been determined not to promise. Rosamond had thatvictorious obstinacy which never wastes its energy in impetuousresistance. What she liked to do was to her the right thing, and allher cleverness was directed to getting the means of doing it. Shemeant to go out riding again on the gray, and she did go on the nextopportunity of her husband's absence, not intending that he should knowuntil it was late enough not to signify to her. The temptation wascertainly great: she was very fond of the exercise, and thegratification of riding on a fine horse, with Captain Lydgate, SirGodwin's son, on another fine horse by her side, and of being met inthis position by any one but her husband, was something as good as herdreams before marriage: moreover she was riveting the connection withthe family at Quallingham, which must be a wise thing to do.
But the gentle gray, unprepared for the crash of a tree that was beingfelled on the edge of Halsell wood, took fright, and caused a worsefright to Rosamond, leading finally to the loss of her baby. Lydgatecould not show his anger towards her, but he was rather bearish to theCaptain, whose visit naturally soon came to an end.
In all future conversations on the subject, Rosamond was mildly certainthat the ride had made no difference, and that if she had stayed athome the same symptoms would have come on and would have ended in thesame way, because she had felt something like them before.
Lydgate could only say, "Poor, poor darling!"--but he secretly wonderedover the terrible tenacity of this mild creature. There was gatheringwithin him an amazed sense of his powerlessness over Rosamond. Hissuperior knowledge and mental force, instead of being, as he hadimagined, a shrine to consult on all occasions, was simply set aside onevery practical question. He had regarded Rosamond's cleverness asprecisely of the receptive kind which became a woman. He was nowbeginning to find out what that cleverness was--what was the shape intowhich it had run as into a close network aloof and independent. No onequicker than Rosamond to see causes and effects which lay within thetrack of her own tastes and interests: she had seen clearly Lydgate'spreeminence in Middlemarch society, and could go on imaginativelytracing still more agreeable social effects when his talent should haveadvanced him; but for her, his professional and scientific ambition hadno other relation to these desirable effects than if they had been thefortunate discovery of an ill-smelling oil. And that oil apart, withwhich she had nothing to do, of course she believed in her own opinionmore than she did in his. Lydgate was astounded to find in numberlesstrifling matters, as well as in this last serious case of the riding,that affection did not make her compliant. He had no doubt that theaffection was there, and had no presentiment that he had done anythingto repel it. For his own part he said to himself that he loved her astenderly as ever, and could make up his mind to her negations;but--well! Lydgate was much worried, and conscious of new elements inhis life as noxious to him as an inlet of mud to a creature that hasbeen used to breathe and bathe and dart after its illuminated prey inthe clearest of waters.
Rosamond was soon looking lovelier than ever at her worktable, enjoyingdrives in her father's phaeton and thinking it likely that she might beinvited to Quallingham. She knew that she was a much more exquisiteornament to the drawing-room there than any daughter of the family, andin reflecting that the gentlemen were aware of that, did not perhapssufficiently consider whether the ladies would be eager to seethemselves surpassed.
Lydgate, relieved from anxiety about her, relapsed into what sheinwardly called his moodiness--a name which to her covered histhoughtful preoccupation with other subjects than herself, as well asthat uneasy look of the brow and distaste for all ordinary things as ifthey were mixed with bitter herbs, which really made a sort ofweather-glass to his vexation and foreboding. These latter states ofmind had one cause amongst others, which he had generously butmistakenly avoided mentioning to Rosamond, lest it should affect herhealth and spirits. Between him and her indeed there was that totalmissing of each other's mental track, which is too evidently possibleeven between persons who are continually thinking of each other. ToLydgate it seemed that he had been spending month after month insacrificing more than half of his best intent and best power to histenderness for Rosamond; bearing her little claims and interruptionswithout impatience, and, above all, bearing without betrayal ofbitterness to look through less and less of interfering illusion at theblank unreflecting surface her mind presented to his ardor for the moreimpersonal ends of his profession and his scientific study, an ardorwhich he had fancied that the ideal wife must somehow worship assublime, though not in the least knowing why. But his endurance wasmingled with a self-discontent which, if we know how to be candid, weshall confess to make more than half our bitterness under grievances,wife or husband included. It always remains true that if we had beengreater, circumstance would have been less strong against us. Lydgatewas aware that his concessions to Rosamond were often little more thanthe lapse of slackening resolution, the creeping paralysis apt to seizean enthusiasm which is out of adjustment to a constant portion of ourlives. And on Lydgate's enthusiasm there was constantly pressing not asimple weight of sorrow, but the biting presence of a petty degradingcare, such as casts the blight of irony over all higher effort.
This was the care which he had hitherto abstained from mentioning toRosamond; and he believed, with some wonder, that it had never enteredher mind, though certainly no difficulty could be less mysterious. Itwas an inference with a conspicuous handle to it, and had been easilydrawn by indifferent observers, that Lydgate was in debt; and he couldnot succeed in keeping out of his mind for long together that he wasevery day getting deeper into that swamp, which tempts men towards itwith such a pretty covering of flowers and verdure. It is wonderfulhow soon a man gets up to his chin there--in a condition in which,in spite of himself, he is forced to think chiefly of release, though hehad a scheme of the universe in his soul.
Eighteen months ago Lydgate was poor, but had never known the eagerwant of small sums, and felt rather a burning contempt for any one whodescended a step in order to gain them. He was now experiencingsomething worse than a simple deficit: he was assailed by the vulgarhateful trials of a man who has bought and used a great many thingswhich might have been done without, and which he is unable to pay for,though the demand for payment has become pressing.
How this came about may be easily seen without much arithmetic orknowledge of prices. When a man in setting up a house and preparingfor marriage finds that his furniture and other initial expenses cometo between four and five hundred pounds more than he has capital to payfor; when at the end of a year it appears that his household expenses,horses and et caeteras, amount to nearly a thousand, while the proceedsof the practice reckoned from the old books to be worth eight hundredper annum have sunk like a summer pond a
nd make hardly five hundred,chiefly in unpaid entries, the plain inference is that, whether heminds it or not, he is in debt. Those were less expensive times thanour own, and provincial life was comparatively modest; but the easewith which a medical man who had lately bought a practice, who thoughtthat he was obliged to keep two horses, whose table was suppliedwithout stint, and who paid an insurance on his life and a high rentfor house and garden, might find his expenses doubling his receipts,can be conceived by any one who does not think these details beneathhis consideration. Rosamond, accustomed from her childhood to an extravaganthousehold, thought that good housekeeping consisted simply in orderingthe best of everything--nothing else "answered;" and Lydgate supposedthat "if things were done at all, they must be done properly"--he didnot see how they were to live otherwise. If each head of householdexpenditure had been mentioned to him beforehand, he would haveprobably observed that "it could hardly come to much," and if any onehad suggested a saving on a particular article--for example, thesubstitution of cheap fish for dear--it would have appeared to himsimply a penny-wise, mean notion. Rosamond, even without such anoccasion as Captain Lydgate's visit, was fond of giving invitations,and Lydgate, though he often thought the guests tiresome, did notinterfere. This sociability seemed a necessary part of professionalprudence, and the entertainment must be suitable. It is true Lydgatewas constantly visiting the homes of the poor and adjusting hisprescriptions of diet to their small means; but, dear me! has it not bythis time ceased to be remarkable--is it not rather that we expect inmen, that they should have numerous strands of experience lying side byside and never compare them with each other? Expenditure--likeugliness and errors--becomes a totally new thing when we attach our ownpersonality to it, and measure it by that wide difference which ismanifest (in our own sensations) between ourselves and others. Lydgatebelieved himself to be careless about his dress, and he despised a manwho calculated the effects of his costume; it seemed to him only amatter of course that he had abundance of fresh garments--such thingswere naturally ordered in sheaves. It must be remembered that he hadnever hitherto felt the check of importunate debt, and he walked byhabit, not by self-criticism. But the check had come.
Its novelty made it the more irritating. He was amazed, disgusted thatconditions so foreign to all his purposes, so hatefully disconnectedwith the objects he cared to occupy himself with, should have lain inambush and clutched him when he was unaware. And there was not onlythe actual debt; there was the certainty that in his present positionhe must go on deepening it. Two furnishing tradesmen at Brassing,whose bills had been incurred before his marriage, and whomuncalculated current expenses had ever since prevented him from paying,had repeatedly sent him unpleasant letters which had forced themselveson his attention. This could hardly have been more galling to anydisposition than to Lydgate's, with his intense pride--his dislike ofasking a favor or being under an obligation to any one. He had scornedeven to form conjectures about Mr. Vincy's intentions on money matters,and nothing but extremity could have induced him to apply to hisfather-in-law, even if he had not been made aware in various indirectways since his marriage that Mr. Vincy's own affairs were notflourishing, and that the expectation of help from him would beresented. Some men easily trust in the readiness of friends; it hadnever in the former part of his life occurred to Lydgate that he shouldneed to do so: he had never thought what borrowing would be to him; butnow that the idea had entered his mind, he felt that he would ratherincur any other hardship. In the mean time he had no money orprospects of money; and his practice was not getting more lucrative.
No wonder that Lydgate had been unable to suppress all signs of inwardtrouble during the last few months, and now that Rosamond was regainingbrilliant health, he meditated taking her entirely into confidence onhis difficulties. New conversance with tradesmen's bills had forcedhis reasoning into a new channel of comparison: he had begun toconsider from a new point of view what was necessary and unnecessary ingoods ordered, and to see that there must be some change of habits.How could such a change be made without Rosamond's concurrence? Theimmediate occasion of opening the disagreeable fact to her was forcedupon him.
Having no money, and having privately sought advice as to what securitycould possibly be given by a man in his position, Lydgate had offeredthe one good security in his power to the less peremptory creditor, whowas a silversmith and jeweller, and who consented to take on himselfthe upholsterer's credit also, accepting interest for a given term.The security necessary was a bill of sale on the furniture of hishouse, which might make a creditor easy for a reasonable time about adebt amounting to less than four hundred pounds; and the silversmith,Mr. Dover, was willing to reduce it by taking back a portion of theplate and any other article which was as good as new. "Any otherarticle" was a phrase delicately implying jewellery, and moreparticularly some purple amethysts costing thirty pounds, which Lydgatehad bought as a bridal present.
Opinions may be divided as to his wisdom in making this present: somemay think that it was a graceful attention to be expected from a manlike Lydgate, and that the fault of any troublesome consequences lay inthe pinched narrowness of provincial life at that time, which offeredno conveniences for professional people whose fortune was notproportioned to their tastes; also, in Lydgate's ridiculousfastidiousness about asking his friends for money.
However, it had seemed a question of no moment to him on that finemorning when he went to give a final order for plate: in the presenceof other jewels enormously expensive, and as an addition to orders ofwhich the amount had not been exactly calculated, thirty pounds forornaments so exquisitely suited to Rosamond's neck and arms couldhardly appear excessive when there was no ready cash for it to exceed.But at this crisis Lydgate's imagination could not help dwelling on thepossibility of letting the amethysts take their place again among Mr.Dover's stock, though he shrank from the idea of proposing this toRosamond. Having been roused to discern consequences which he hadnever been in the habit of tracing, he was preparing to act on thisdiscernment with some of the rigor (by no means all) that he would haveapplied in pursuing experiment. He was nerving himself to this rigoras he rode from Brassing, and meditated on the representations he mustmake to Rosamond.
It was evening when he got home. He was intensely miserable, thisstrong man of nine-and-twenty and of many gifts. He was not sayingangrily within himself that he had made a profound mistake; but themistake was at work in him like a recognized chronic disease, minglingits uneasy importunities with every prospect, and enfeebling everythought. As he went along the passage to the drawing-room, he heardthe piano and singing. Of course, Ladislaw was there. It was someweeks since Will had parted from Dorothea, yet he was still at the oldpost in Middlemarch. Lydgate had no objection in general to Ladislaw'scoming, but just now he was annoyed that he could not find his hearthfree. When he opened the door the two singers went on towards thekey-note, raising their eyes and looking at him indeed, but notregarding his entrance as an interruption. To a man galled with hisharness as poor Lydgate was, it is not soothing to see two peoplewarbling at him, as he comes in with the sense that the painful day hasstill pains in store. His face, already paler than usual, took on ascowl as he walked across the room and flung himself into a chair.
The singers feeling themselves excused by the fact that they had onlythree bars to sing, now turned round.
"How are you, Lydgate?" said Will, coming forward to shake hands.
Lydgate took his hand, but did not think it necessary to speak.
"Have you dined, Tertius? I expected you much earlier," said Rosamond,who had already seen that her husband was in a "horrible humor." Sheseated herself in her usual place as she spoke.
"I have dined. I should like some tea, please," said Lydgate, curtly,still scowling and looking markedly at his legs stretched out beforehim.
Will was too quick to need more. "I shall be off," he said, reachinghis hat.
"Tea is coming," said Rosamond; "pray don't go."
<
br /> "Yes, Lydgate is bored," said Will, who had more comprehension ofLydgate than Rosamond had, and was not offended by his manner, easilyimagining outdoor causes of annoyance.
"There is the more need for you to stay," said Rosamond, playfully, andin her lightest accent; "he will not speak to me all the evening."
"Yes, Rosamond, I shall," said Lydgate, in his strong baritone. "Ihave some serious business to speak to you about."
No introduction of the business could have been less like that whichLydgate had intended; but her indifferent manner had been too provoking.
"There! you see," said Will. "I'm going to the meeting about theMechanics' Institute. Good-by;" and he went quickly out of the room.
Rosamond did not look at her husband, but presently rose and took herplace before the tea-tray. She was thinking that she had never seen himso disagreeable. Lydgate turned his dark eyes on her and watched heras she delicately handled the tea-service with her taper fingers, andlooked at the objects immediately before her with no curve in her facedisturbed, and yet with an ineffable protest in her air against allpeople with unpleasant manners. For the moment he lost the sense ofhis wound in a sudden speculation about this new form of feminineimpassibility revealing itself in the sylph-like frame which he hadonce interpreted as the sign of a ready intelligent sensitiveness. Hismind glancing back to Laure while he looked at Rosamond, he saidinwardly, "Would _she_ kill me because I wearied her?" and then, "It isthe way with all women." But this power of generalizing which gives menso much the superiority in mistake over the dumb animals, wasimmediately thwarted by Lydgate's memory of wondering impressions fromthe behavior of another woman--from Dorothea's looks and tones ofemotion about her husband when Lydgate began to attend him--from herpassionate cry to be taught what would best comfort that man for whosesake it seemed as if she must quell every impulse in her except theyearnings of faithfulness and compassion. These revived impressionssucceeded each other quickly and dreamily in Lydgate's mind while thetea was being brewed. He had shut his eyes in the last instant ofreverie while he heard Dorothea saying, "Advise me--think what I cando--he has been all his life laboring and looking forward. He mindsabout nothing else--and I mind about nothing else."
That voice of deep-souled womanhood had remained within him as theenkindling conceptions of dead and sceptred genius had remained withinhim (is there not a genius for feeling nobly which also reigns overhuman spirits and their conclusions?); the tones were a music fromwhich he was falling away--he had really fallen into a momentary doze,when Rosamond said in her silvery neutral way, "Here is your tea,Tertius," setting it on the small table by his side, and then movedback to her place without looking at him. Lydgate was too hasty inattributing insensibility to her; after her own fashion, she wassensitive enough, and took lasting impressions. Her impression now wasone of offence and repulsion. But then, Rosamond had no scowls and hadnever raised her voice: she was quite sure that no one could justlyfind fault with her.
Perhaps Lydgate and she had never felt so far off each other before;but there were strong reasons for not deferring his revelation, even ifhe had not already begun it by that abrupt announcement; indeed some ofthe angry desire to rouse her into more sensibility on his accountwhich had prompted him to speak prematurely, still mingled with hispain in the prospect of her pain. But he waited till the tray wasgone, the candles were lit, and the evening quiet might be counted on:the interval had left time for repelled tenderness to return into theold course. He spoke kindly.
"Dear Rosy, lay down your work and come to sit by me," he said, gently,pushing away the table, and stretching out his arm to draw a chair nearhis own.
Rosamond obeyed. As she came towards him in her drapery of transparentfaintly tinted muslin, her slim yet round figure never looked moregraceful; as she sat down by him and laid one hand on the elbow of hischair, at last looking at him and meeting his eyes, her delicate neckand cheek and purely cut lips never had more of that untarnished beautywhich touches as in spring-time and infancy and all sweet freshness.It touched Lydgate now, and mingled the early moments of his love forher with all the other memories which were stirred in this crisis ofdeep trouble. He laid his ample hand softly on hers, saying--
"Dear!" with the lingering utterance which affection gives to the word.Rosamond too was still under the power of that same past, and herhusband was still in part the Lydgate whose approval had stirreddelight. She put his hair lightly away from his forehead, then laidher other hand on his, and was conscious of forgiving him.
"I am obliged to tell you what will hurt you, Rosy. But there arethings which husband and wife must think of together. I dare say ithas occurred to you already that I am short of money."
Lydgate paused; but Rosamond turned her neck and looked at a vase onthe mantel-piece.
"I was not able to pay for all the things we had to get before we weremarried, and there have been expenses since which I have been obligedto meet. The consequence is, there is a large debt at Brassing--threehundred and eighty pounds--which has been pressing on me a good while,and in fact we are getting deeper every day, for people don't pay methe faster because others want the money. I took pains to keep it fromyou while you were not well; but now we must think together about it,and you must help me."
"What can--I--do, Tertius?" said Rosamond, turning her eyes on himagain. That little speech of four words, like so many others in alllanguages, is capable by varied vocal inflections of expressing allstates of mind from helpless dimness to exhaustive argumentativeperception, from the completest self-devoting fellowship to the mostneutral aloofness. Rosamond's thin utterance threw into the words"What can--I--do!" as much neutrality as they could hold. They felllike a mortal chill on Lydgate's roused tenderness. He did not stormin indignation--he felt too sad a sinking of the heart. And when hespoke again it was more in the tone of a man who forces himself tofulfil a task.
"It is necessary for you to know, because I have to give security for atime, and a man must come to make an inventory of the furniture."
Rosamond colored deeply. "Have you not asked papa for money?" shesaid, as soon as she could speak.
"No."
"Then I must ask him!" she said, releasing her hands from Lydgate's,and rising to stand at two yards' distance from him.
"No, Rosy," said Lydgate, decisively. "It is too late to do that. Theinventory will be begun to-morrow. Remember it is a mere security: itwill make no difference: it is a temporary affair. I insist upon itthat your father shall not know, unless I choose to tell him," addedLydgate, with a more peremptory emphasis.
This certainly was unkind, but Rosamond had thrown him back on evilexpectation as to what she would do in the way of quiet steadydisobedience. The unkindness seemed unpardonable to her: she was notgiven to weeping and disliked it, but now her chin and lips began totremble and the tears welled up. Perhaps it was not possible forLydgate, under the double stress of outward material difficulty and ofhis own proud resistance to humiliating consequences, to imagine fullywhat this sudden trial was to a young creature who had known nothingbut indulgence, and whose dreams had all been of new indulgence, moreexactly to her taste. But he did wish to spare her as much as hecould, and her tears cut him to the heart. He could not speak againimmediately; but Rosamond did not go on sobbing: she tried to conquerher agitation and wiped away her tears, continuing to look before herat the mantel-piece.
"Try not to grieve, darling," said Lydgate, turning his eyes up towardsher. That she had chosen to move away from him in this moment of hertrouble made everything harder to say, but he must absolutely go on."We must brace ourselves to do what is necessary. It is I who havebeen in fault: I ought to have seen that I could not afford to live inthis way. But many things have told against me in my practice, and itreally just now has ebbed to a low point. I may recover it, but in themean time we must pull up--we must change our way of living. We shallweather it. When I have given this security I shall have time to lookabout me; and you a
re so clever that if you turn your mind to managingyou will school me into carefulness. I have been a thoughtless rascalabout squaring prices--but come, dear, sit down and forgive me."
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 hopethat he would attend to her opinion, and she said--
"Why can you not put off having the inventory made? You can send themen 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 we notgo 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 surely theseodious tradesmen might be made to understand that, and to wait, if youwould 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 married him.
"We have no time to waste now on unnecessary words, dear," saidLydgate, trying to be gentle again. "There are some details that Iwant to consider with you. Dover says he will take a good deal of theplate back again, and any of the jewellery we like. He really behavesvery well."
"Are we to go without spoons and forks then?" said Rosamond, whose verylips seemed to get thinner with the thinness of her utterance. She wasdetermined 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 anyof the jewellery." Lydgate had really felt this point of the jewelleryvery bitter to himself; but he had overcome the feeling by severeargument. He could not propose to Rosamond that she should return anyparticular present of his, but he had told himself that he was bound toput Dover's offer before her, and her inward prompting might make theaffair easy.
"It is useless for me to look, Tertius," said Rosamond, calmly; "youwill return what you please." She would not turn her eyes on thepaper, and Lydgate, flushing up to the roots of his hair, drew it backand let it fall on his knee. Meanwhile Rosamond quietly went out ofthe room, leaving Lydgate helpless and wondering. Was she not comingback? It seemed that she had no more identified herself with him thanif they had been creatures of different species and opposing interests.He tossed his head and thrust his hands deep into his pockets with asort of vengeance. There was still science--there were still goodobjects to work for. He must give a tug still--all the strongerbecause other satisfactions were going.
But the door opened and Rosamond re-entered. She carried the leatherbox containing the amethysts, and a tiny ornamental basket whichcontained other boxes, and laying them on the chair where she had beensitting, 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 meto stay at 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 edge onhis 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 myself inthe first trouble that has come."
"Certainly not," said Rosamond; "I shall do everything it becomes me todo."
"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 goout--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 surelybetter to manage the thing ourselves, and let the servants see aslittle of it as possible; and since you are my wife, there is nohindering your share in my disgraces--if there were disgraces."
Rosamond did not answer immediately, but at last she said, "Very well,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 bepacked up 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 the tablewas going to turn away, when Lydgate, who was standing close by, puthis 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 is apart of manliness for a husband to feel keenly the fact that aninexperienced girl has got into trouble by marrying him. She receivedhis kiss and returned it faintly, and in this way an appearance ofaccord was recovered for the time. But Lydgate could not help lookingforward with dread to the inevitable future discussions aboutexpenditure and the necessity for a complete change in their way ofliving.