diff --git a/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro b/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro index 85bdbce..4570e8d 100644 --- a/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro +++ b/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro @@ -110,7 +110,7 @@ win32 { QMAKE_LFLAGS += -Wl,--stack,536870912 LIBS += -lDbghelp LIBS += -lbfd - LIBS += -liberty +# LIBS += -liberty LIBS += -limagehlp } macx { diff --git a/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro.user.1636703 b/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro.user.1636703 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2371d94 --- /dev/null +++ b/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro.user.1636703 @@ -0,0 +1,259 @@ + + + + + + EnvironmentId + {1636703e-49cf-4aa8-a0d6-5b0c0f566f5e} + + + ProjectExplorer.Project.ActiveTarget + 0 + + + ProjectExplorer.Project.EditorSettings + + true + false + true + + Cpp + + CppGlobal + + + + QmlJS + + QmlJSGlobal + + + 2 + UTF-8 + false + 4 + false + 80 + true + true + 1 + true + false + 0 + true + 0 + 8 + true + 1 + true + true + true + false + + + + ProjectExplorer.Project.PluginSettings + + + + ProjectExplorer.Project.Target.0 + + Desktop Qt 5.5.0 MinGW 32bit + Desktop Qt 5.5.0 MinGW 32bit + qt.55.win32_mingw492_kit + 0 + 0 + 0 + + C:/Projects/nbezay/cs-b-assignment1/build-ConsecutiveHeads-Desktop_Qt_5_5_0_MinGW_32bit-Debug + + + true + qmake + + QtProjectManager.QMakeBuildStep + false + true + + false + false + false + + + true + Сборка + + Qt4ProjectManager.MakeStep + + false + + + + 2 + Сборка + + ProjectExplorer.BuildSteps.Build + + + + true + Сборка + + Qt4ProjectManager.MakeStep + + true + clean + + + 1 + Очистка + + ProjectExplorer.BuildSteps.Clean + + 2 + false + + Отладка + + Qt4ProjectManager.Qt4BuildConfiguration + 2 + true + + + C:/Projects/nbezay/cs-b-assignment1/build-ConsecutiveHeads-Desktop_Qt_5_5_0_MinGW_32bit-Release + + + true + qmake + + QtProjectManager.QMakeBuildStep + false + true + + false + false + false + + + true + Сборка + + Qt4ProjectManager.MakeStep + + false + + + + 2 + Сборка + + ProjectExplorer.BuildSteps.Build + + + + true + Сборка + + Qt4ProjectManager.MakeStep + + true + clean + + + 1 + Очистка + + ProjectExplorer.BuildSteps.Clean + + 2 + false + + Выпуск + + Qt4ProjectManager.Qt4BuildConfiguration + 0 + true + + 2 + + + 0 + Установка + + ProjectExplorer.BuildSteps.Deploy + + 1 + Локальная установка + + ProjectExplorer.DefaultDeployConfiguration + + 1 + + + + false + false + false + false + true + 0.01 + 10 + true + 1 + 25 + + 1 + true + false + true + valgrind + + 0 + 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 + 7 + 8 + 9 + 10 + 11 + 12 + 13 + 14 + + 2 + + ConsecutiveHeads + + Qt4ProjectManager.Qt4RunConfiguration:C:/Projects/nbezay/cs-b-assignment1/1-ConsecutiveHeads/ConsecutiveHeads.pro + + ConsecutiveHeads.pro + false + false + + 3768 + false + true + false + false + true + + 1 + + + + ProjectExplorer.Project.TargetCount + 1 + + + ProjectExplorer.Project.Updater.FileVersion + 18 + + + Version + 18 + + diff --git a/1-ConsecutiveHeads/src/ConsecutiveHeads.cpp b/1-ConsecutiveHeads/src/ConsecutiveHeads.cpp index 4b7f6b3..fd47f50 100644 --- a/1-ConsecutiveHeads/src/ConsecutiveHeads.cpp +++ b/1-ConsecutiveHeads/src/ConsecutiveHeads.cpp @@ -6,5 +6,18 @@ using namespace std; int main() { // TODO: fill in the code + int countFlips = 0; + int countFlipsToWin = 0; + while (countFlipsToWin < 3){ + if (randomBool()) { + cout<<"heads"< " << obengoblish(line)<< endl; + } + return 0; } diff --git a/3-NumericConversion/NumericConversion.pro b/3-NumericConversion/NumericConversion.pro index 85bdbce..6abe284 100644 --- a/3-NumericConversion/NumericConversion.pro +++ b/3-NumericConversion/NumericConversion.pro @@ -110,7 +110,7 @@ win32 { QMAKE_LFLAGS += -Wl,--stack,536870912 LIBS += -lDbghelp LIBS += -lbfd - LIBS += -liberty +# LIBS += -liberty LIBS += -limagehlp } macx { diff --git a/3-NumericConversion/src/NumericConversion.cpp b/3-NumericConversion/src/NumericConversion.cpp index d66d654..5f3dcc8 100644 --- a/3-NumericConversion/src/NumericConversion.cpp +++ b/3-NumericConversion/src/NumericConversion.cpp @@ -8,7 +8,80 @@ string intToString(int n); int stringToInt(string str); + int main() { // TODO: fill in the code + + int tests[] = { + 0, 100, -5, 10, 5, 1729 + }; + string tests2[] = {"0", "100", "-5", "123456", "-123456", "733"}; + const int B = 6; + for (int i=0; i #include "console.h" +#include +#include "tokenscanner.h" using namespace std; + +bool checkIsPunctuation(string token){ + string punctuation = ".!?"; + for (int i=0; punctuation[i] != '\0'; i++){ + if (punctuation[i] == token[0]) return true; + } + return false; +} + +//Function checks if a given character a vowel +//Param letter - a symbol that you want to analyze +//return - true if the character is a vowel +bool checkCharIsVowel(char letter){ + char vowelSymbols[] = "AEIOUYaeiouy"; + + for(int i = 0; vowelSymbols[i] != '\0'; i++){ + if(letter == vowelSymbols[i]) + return true; + } + + return false; +} + +bool checkLastCharE(char c) { + char leterE = 'e'; + if (c == leterE) return true; + return false; +} + +/* + * Given a word, estimates the number of syllables in that word according to the + * heuristic specified in the handout. + * + * @param token - A string containing a single word. + * @return An estimate of the number of syllables in that word. + */ +int countSyllables(string token){ + int syllablesCounter = 0; + + for (int i=0; token[i] != '\0'; i++){ + + if (checkCharIsVowel(token[i]) & + !checkCharIsVowel(token[i - 1])){ + + syllablesCounter++; + } + + } + if (checkLastCharE(token[token.length()-1]) & + !checkCharIsVowel(token[token.length()-2])){ + + syllablesCounter--; + } + + if (syllablesCounter <= 0) syllablesCounter = 1; + + return syllablesCounter; +} + +void analiseFileToGradeLevel(ifstream & myFile){ + double gradeLevelResult = 0; + + double wordCounter = 0; + + double syllablesCounter = 0; + + double sentencesCounter = 0; + + const double cZero = -15.59; + const double cOne = 0.39; + const double cTwo = 11.8; + + TokenScanner scanner(myFile); + scanner.ignoreWhitespace(); + scanner.addWordCharacters("'"); + + while (scanner.hasMoreTokens()) { + + string token = scanner.nextToken(); + // count the number of words and syllables in each + if (isalpha( token[0])) { + wordCounter++; + syllablesCounter +=countSyllables(token); + + //cout<<"word: ["<>fileName; + myFile.open(fileName); + if (myFile.is_open()){ + + cout<<"FILE IS OPEN" < + + + + + + + + + + + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Hi.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Hi.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..663adb0 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Hi.txt @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +Hi! diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/JFK-Berlin.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/JFK-Berlin.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9fc84c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/JFK-Berlin.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14 @@ +I am proud to come to this city as the guest of your distinguished Mayor, who has symbolized throughout the world the fighting spirit of West Berlin. And I am proud to visit the Federal Republic with your distinguished Chancellor who for so many years has committed Germany to democracy and freedom and progress, and to come here in the company of my fellow American, General Clay, who has been in this city during its great moments of crisis and will come again if ever needed. +Two thousand years ago the proudest boast was "civis Romanus sum." Today, in the world of freedom, the proudest boast is "Ich bin ein Berliner." + +I appreciate my interpreter translating my German! + +There are many people in the world who really don't understand, or say they don't, what is the great issue between the free world and the Communist world. Let them come to Berlin. There are some who say that communism is the wave of the future. Let them come to Berlin. And there are some who say in Europe and elsewhere we can work with the Communists. Let them come to Berlin. And there are even a few who say that it is true that communism is an evil system, but it permits us to make economic progress. Lasst sie nach Berlin kommen. Let them come to Berlin. + +Freedom has many difficulties and democracy is not perfect, but we have never had to put a wall up to keep our people in, to prevent them from leaving us. I want to say, on behalf of my countrymen, who live many miles away on the other side of the Atlantic, who are far distant from you, that they take the greatest pride that they have been able to share with you, even from a distance, the story of the last 18 years. I know of no town, no city, that has been besieged for 18 years that still lives with the vitality and the force, and the hope and the determination of the city of West Berlin. While the wall is the most obvious and vivid demonstration of the failures of the Communist system, for all the world to see, we take no satisfaction in it, for it is, as your Mayor has said, an offense not only against history but an offense against humanity, separating families, dividing husbands and wives and brothers and sisters, and dividing a people who wish to be joined together. + +What is true of this city is true of Germany--real, lasting peace in Europe can never be assured as long as one German out of four is denied the elementary right of free men, and that is to make a free choice. In 18 years of peace and good faith, this generation of Germans has earned the right to be free, including the right to unite their families and their nation in lasting peace, with good will to all people. You live in a defended island of freedom, but your life is part of the main. So let me ask you as I close, to lift your eyes beyond the dangers of today, to the hopes of tomorrow, beyond the freedom merely of this city of Berlin, or your country of Germany, to the advance of freedom everywhere, beyond the wall to the day of peace with justice, beyond yourselves and ourselves to all mankind. + +Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free. When all are free, then we can look forward to that day when this city will be joined as one and this country and this great Continent of Europe in a peaceful and hopeful globe. When that day finally comes, as it will, the people of West Berlin can take sober satisfaction in the fact that they were in the front lines for almost two decades. + +All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words "Ich bin ein Berliner." diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/JaneEyre.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/JaneEyre.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..07fa2f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/JaneEyre.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20515 @@ +CHAPTER I + + +There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been +wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but +since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold +winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so +penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question. + +I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly +afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with +nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, +the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to +Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed. + +The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama +in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with +her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) +looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; +saying, "She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a +distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her +own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a +more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly +manner--something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were--she really +must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, +little children." + +"What does Bessie say I have done?" I asked. + +"Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something +truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be +seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent." + +A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It +contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care +that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window- +seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having +drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double +retirement. + +Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left +were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the +drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my +book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a +pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat +shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and +lamentable blast. + +I returned to my book--Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress +thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were +certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite +as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of +"the solitary rocks and promontories" by them only inhabited; of the +coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the +Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape-- + + "Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls, + Boils round the naked, melancholy isles + Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge + Pours in among the stormy Hebrides." + +Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, +Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with "the vast +sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space,--that +reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation +of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround +the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold." Of +these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all +the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children's brains, +but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages +connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance +to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken +boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing +through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking. + +I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with +its inscribed headstone; its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, +girdled by a broken wall, and its newly-risen crescent, attesting the +hour of eventide. + +The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine phantoms. + +The fiend pinning down the thief's pack behind him, I passed over +quickly: it was an object of terror. + +So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant +crowd surrounding a gallows. + +Each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped +understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting: as +interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings, +when she chanced to be in good humour; and when, having brought her +ironing-table to the nursery hearth, she allowed us to sit about it, and +while she got up Mrs. Reed's lace frills, and crimped her nightcap +borders, fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure +taken from old fairy tales and other ballads; or (as at a later period I +discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland. + +With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way. I +feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. The breakfast- +room door opened. + +"Boh! Madam Mope!" cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he +found the room apparently empty. + +"Where the dickens is she!" he continued. "Lizzy! Georgy! (calling to +his sisters) Joan is not here: tell mama she is run out into the rain--bad +animal!" + +"It is well I drew the curtain," thought I; and I wished fervently he +might not discover my hiding-place: nor would John Reed have found it out +himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but Eliza just +put her head in at the door, and said at once-- + +"She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack." + +And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being dragged +forth by the said Jack. + +"What do you want?" I asked, with awkward diffidence. + +"Say, 'What do you want, Master Reed?'" was the answer. "I want you to +come here;" and seating himself in an arm-chair, he intimated by a +gesture that I was to approach and stand before him. + +John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than I, +for I was but ten: large and stout for his age, with a dingy and +unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs and +large extremities. He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him +bilious, and gave him a dim and bleared eye and flabby cheeks. He ought +now to have been at school; but his mama had taken him home for a month +or two, "on account of his delicate health." Mr. Miles, the master, +affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats +sent him from home; but the mother's heart turned from an opinion so +harsh, and inclined rather to the more refined idea that John's +sallowness was owing to over-application and, perhaps, to pining after +home. + +John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy +to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, +nor once or twice in the day, but continually: every nerve I had feared +him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near. +There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, +because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his +inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by +taking my part against him, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the +subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did +both now and then in her very presence, more frequently, however, behind +her back. + +Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair: he spent some three +minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without +damaging the roots: I knew he would soon strike, and while dreading the +blow, I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would +presently deal it. I wonder if he read that notion in my face; for, all +at once, without speaking, he struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, +and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his +chair. + +"That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since," said he, +"and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for the look +you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!" + +Accustomed to John Reed's abuse, I never had an idea of replying to it; +my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the +insult. + +"What were you doing behind the curtain?" he asked. + +"I was reading." + +"Show the book." + +I returned to the window and fetched it thence. + +"You have no business to take our books; you are a dependent, mama says; +you have no money; your father left you none; you ought to beg, and not +to live here with gentlemen's children like us, and eat the same meals we +do, and wear clothes at our mama's expense. Now, I'll teach you to +rummage my bookshelves: for they _are_ mine; all the house belongs to me, +or will do in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of +the mirror and the windows." + +I did so, not at first aware what was his intention; but when I saw him +lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I instinctively +started aside with a cry of alarm: not soon enough, however; the volume +was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and +cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was sharp: my terror had passed its +climax; other feelings succeeded. + +"Wicked and cruel boy!" I said. "You are like a murderer--you are like a +slave-driver--you are like the Roman emperors!" + +I had read Goldsmith's History of Rome, and had formed my opinion of +Nero, Caligula, &c. Also I had drawn parallels in silence, which I never +thought thus to have declared aloud. + +"What! what!" he cried. "Did she say that to me? Did you hear her, +Eliza and Georgiana? Won't I tell mama? but first--" + +He ran headlong at me: I felt him grasp my hair and my shoulder: he had +closed with a desperate thing. I really saw in him a tyrant, a murderer. +I felt a drop or two of blood from my head trickle down my neck, and was +sensible of somewhat pungent suffering: these sensations for the time +predominated over fear, and I received him in frantic sort. I don't very +well know what I did with my hands, but he called me "Rat! Rat!" and +bellowed out aloud. Aid was near him: Eliza and Georgiana had run for +Mrs. Reed, who was gone upstairs: she now came upon the scene, followed +by Bessie and her maid Abbot. We were parted: I heard the words-- + +"Dear! dear! What a fury to fly at Master John!" + +"Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion!" + +Then Mrs. Reed subjoined-- + +"Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there." Four hands were +immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +I resisted all the way: a new thing for me, and a circumstance which +greatly strengthened the bad opinion Bessie and Miss Abbot were disposed +to entertain of me. The fact is, I was a trifle beside myself; or rather +_out_ of myself, as the French would say: I was conscious that a moment's +mutiny had already rendered me liable to strange penalties, and, like any +other rebel slave, I felt resolved, in my desperation, to go all lengths. + +"Hold her arms, Miss Abbot: she's like a mad cat." + +"For shame! for shame!" cried the lady's-maid. "What shocking conduct, +Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress's son! Your +young master." + +"Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?" + +"No; you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for your keep. +There, sit down, and think over your wickedness." + +They had got me by this time into the apartment indicated by Mrs. Reed, +and had thrust me upon a stool: my impulse was to rise from it like a +spring; their two pair of hands arrested me instantly. + +"If you don't sit still, you must be tied down," said Bessie. "Miss +Abbot, lend me your garters; she would break mine directly." + +Miss Abbot turned to divest a stout leg of the necessary ligature. This +preparation for bonds, and the additional ignominy it inferred, took a +little of the excitement out of me. + +"Don't take them off," I cried; "I will not stir." + +In guarantee whereof, I attached myself to my seat by my hands. + +"Mind you don't," said Bessie; and when she had ascertained that I was +really subsiding, she loosened her hold of me; then she and Miss Abbot +stood with folded arms, looking darkly and doubtfully on my face, as +incredulous of my sanity. + +"She never did so before," at last said Bessie, turning to the Abigail. + +"But it was always in her," was the reply. "I've told Missis often my +opinion about the child, and Missis agreed with me. She's an underhand +little thing: I never saw a girl of her age with so much cover." + +Bessie answered not; but ere long, addressing me, she said--"You ought to +be aware, Miss, that you are under obligations to Mrs. Reed: she keeps +you: if she were to turn you off, you would have to go to the poorhouse." + +I had nothing to say to these words: they were not new to me: my very +first recollections of existence included hints of the same kind. This +reproach of my dependence had become a vague sing-song in my ear: very +painful and crushing, but only half intelligible. Miss Abbot joined in-- + +"And you ought not to think yourself on an equality with the Misses Reed +and Master Reed, because Missis kindly allows you to be brought up with +them. They will have a great deal of money, and you will have none: it +is your place to be humble, and to try to make yourself agreeable to +them." + +"What we tell you is for your good," added Bessie, in no harsh voice, +"you should try to be useful and pleasant, then, perhaps, you would have +a home here; but if you become passionate and rude, Missis will send you +away, I am sure." + +"Besides," said Miss Abbot, "God will punish her: He might strike her +dead in the midst of her tantrums, and then where would she go? Come, +Bessie, we will leave her: I wouldn't have her heart for anything. Say +your prayers, Miss Eyre, when you are by yourself; for if you don't +repent, something bad might be permitted to come down the chimney and +fetch you away." + +They went, shutting the door, and locking it behind them. + +The red-room was a square chamber, very seldom slept in, I might say +never, indeed, unless when a chance influx of visitors at Gateshead Hall +rendered it necessary to turn to account all the accommodation it +contained: yet it was one of the largest and stateliest chambers in the +mansion. A bed supported on massive pillars of mahogany, hung with +curtains of deep red damask, stood out like a tabernacle in the centre; +the two large windows, with their blinds always drawn down, were half +shrouded in festoons and falls of similar drapery; the carpet was red; +the table at the foot of the bed was covered with a crimson cloth; the +walls were a soft fawn colour with a blush of pink in it; the wardrobe, +the toilet-table, the chairs were of darkly polished old mahogany. Out +of these deep surrounding shades rose high, and glared white, the piled- +up mattresses and pillows of the bed, spread with a snowy Marseilles +counterpane. Scarcely less prominent was an ample cushioned easy-chair +near the head of the bed, also white, with a footstool before it; and +looking, as I thought, like a pale throne. + +This room was chill, because it seldom had a fire; it was silent, because +remote from the nursery and kitchen; solemn, because it was known to be +so seldom entered. The house-maid alone came here on Saturdays, to wipe +from the mirrors and the furniture a week's quiet dust: and Mrs. Reed +herself, at far intervals, visited it to review the contents of a certain +secret drawer in the wardrobe, where were stored divers parchments, her +jewel-casket, and a miniature of her deceased husband; and in those last +words lies the secret of the red-room--the spell which kept it so lonely +in spite of its grandeur. + +Mr. Reed had been dead nine years: it was in this chamber he breathed his +last; here he lay in state; hence his coffin was borne by the +undertaker's men; and, since that day, a sense of dreary consecration had +guarded it from frequent intrusion. + +My seat, to which Bessie and the bitter Miss Abbot had left me riveted, +was a low ottoman near the marble chimney-piece; the bed rose before me; +to my right hand there was the high, dark wardrobe, with subdued, broken +reflections varying the gloss of its panels; to my left were the muffled +windows; a great looking-glass between them repeated the vacant majesty +of the bed and room. I was not quite sure whether they had locked the +door; and when I dared move, I got up and went to see. Alas! yes: no +jail was ever more secure. Returning, I had to cross before the looking- +glass; my fascinated glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. +All looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality: +and the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and +arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all +else was still, had the effect of a real spirit: I thought it like one of +the tiny phantoms, half fairy, half imp, Bessie's evening stories +represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells in moors, and appearing +before the eyes of belated travellers. I returned to my stool. + +Superstition was with me at that moment; but it was not yet her hour for +complete victory: my blood was still warm; the mood of the revolted slave +was still bracing me with its bitter vigour; I had to stem a rapid rush +of retrospective thought before I quailed to the dismal present. + +All John Reed's violent tyrannies, all his sisters' proud indifference, +all his mother's aversion, all the servants' partiality, turned up in my +disturbed mind like a dark deposit in a turbid well. Why was I always +suffering, always browbeaten, always accused, for ever condemned? Why +could I never please? Why was it useless to try to win any one's favour? +Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish, was respected. Georgiana, who had +a spoiled temper, a very acrid spite, a captious and insolent carriage, +was universally indulged. Her beauty, her pink cheeks and golden curls, +seemed to give delight to all who looked at her, and to purchase +indemnity for every fault. John no one thwarted, much less punished; +though he twisted the necks of the pigeons, killed the little pea-chicks, +set the dogs at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, +and broke the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory: he called +his mother "old girl," too; sometimes reviled her for her dark skin, +similar to his own; bluntly disregarded her wishes; not unfrequently tore +and spoiled her silk attire; and he was still "her own darling." I dared +commit no fault: I strove to fulfil every duty; and I was termed naughty +and tiresome, sullen and sneaking, from morning to noon, and from noon to +night. + +My head still ached and bled with the blow and fall I had received: no +one had reproved John for wantonly striking me; and because I had turned +against him to avert farther irrational violence, I was loaded with +general opprobrium. + +"Unjust!--unjust!" said my reason, forced by the agonising stimulus into +precocious though transitory power: and Resolve, equally wrought up, +instigated some strange expedient to achieve escape from insupportable +oppression--as running away, or, if that could not be effected, never +eating or drinking more, and letting myself die. + +What a consternation of soul was mine that dreary afternoon! How all my +brain was in tumult, and all my heart in insurrection! Yet in what +darkness, what dense ignorance, was the mental battle fought! I could +not answer the ceaseless inward question--_why_ I thus suffered; now, at +the distance of--I will not say how many years, I see it clearly. + +I was a discord in Gateshead Hall: I was like nobody there; I had nothing +in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen vassalage. If +they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them. They were not +bound to regard with affection a thing that could not sympathise with one +amongst them; a heterogeneous thing, opposed to them in temperament, in +capacity, in propensities; a useless thing, incapable of serving their +interest, or adding to their pleasure; a noxious thing, cherishing the +germs of indignation at their treatment, of contempt of their judgment. I +know that had I been a sanguine, brilliant, careless, exacting, handsome, +romping child--though equally dependent and friendless--Mrs. Reed would +have endured my presence more complacently; her children would have +entertained for me more of the cordiality of fellow-feeling; the servants +would have been less prone to make me the scapegoat of the nursery. + +Daylight began to forsake the red-room; it was past four o'clock, and the +beclouded afternoon was tending to drear twilight. I heard the rain +still beating continuously on the staircase window, and the wind howling +in the grove behind the hall; I grew by degrees cold as a stone, and then +my courage sank. My habitual mood of humiliation, self-doubt, forlorn +depression, fell damp on the embers of my decaying ire. All said I was +wicked, and perhaps I might be so; what thought had I been but just +conceiving of starving myself to death? That certainly was a crime: and +was I fit to die? Or was the vault under the chancel of Gateshead Church +an inviting bourne? In such vault I had been told did Mr. Reed lie +buried; and led by this thought to recall his idea, I dwelt on it with +gathering dread. I could not remember him; but I knew that he was my own +uncle--my mother's brother--that he had taken me when a parentless infant +to his house; and that in his last moments he had required a promise of +Mrs. Reed that she would rear and maintain me as one of her own children. +Mrs. Reed probably considered she had kept this promise; and so she had, +I dare say, as well as her nature would permit her; but how could she +really like an interloper not of her race, and unconnected with her, +after her husband's death, by any tie? It must have been most irksome to +find herself bound by a hard-wrung pledge to stand in the stead of a +parent to a strange child she could not love, and to see an uncongenial +alien permanently intruded on her own family group. + +A singular notion dawned upon me. I doubted not--never doubted--that if +Mr. Reed had been alive he would have treated me kindly; and now, as I +sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed walls--occasionally also +turning a fascinated eye towards the dimly gleaning mirror--I began to +recall what I had heard of dead men, troubled in their graves by the +violation of their last wishes, revisiting the earth to punish the +perjured and avenge the oppressed; and I thought Mr. Reed's spirit, +harassed by the wrongs of his sister's child, might quit its +abode--whether in the church vault or in the unknown world of the +departed--and rise before me in this chamber. I wiped my tears and +hushed my sobs, fearful lest any sign of violent grief might waken a +preternatural voice to comfort me, or elicit from the gloom some haloed +face, bending over me with strange pity. This idea, consolatory in +theory, I felt would be terrible if realised: with all my might I +endeavoured to stifle it--I endeavoured to be firm. Shaking my hair from +my eyes, I lifted my head and tried to look boldly round the dark room; +at this moment a light gleamed on the wall. Was it, I asked myself, a +ray from the moon penetrating some aperture in the blind? No; moonlight +was still, and this stirred; while I gazed, it glided up to the ceiling +and quivered over my head. I can now conjecture readily that this streak +of light was, in all likelihood, a gleam from a lantern carried by some +one across the lawn: but then, prepared as my mind was for horror, shaken +as my nerves were by agitation, I thought the swift darting beam was a +herald of some coming vision from another world. My heart beat thick, my +head grew hot; a sound filled my ears, which I deemed the rushing of +wings; something seemed near me; I was oppressed, suffocated: endurance +broke down; I rushed to the door and shook the lock in desperate effort. +Steps came running along the outer passage; the key turned, Bessie and +Abbot entered. + +"Miss Eyre, are you ill?" said Bessie. + +"What a dreadful noise! it went quite through me!" exclaimed Abbot. + +"Take me out! Let me go into the nursery!" was my cry. + +"What for? Are you hurt? Have you seen something?" again demanded +Bessie. + +"Oh! I saw a light, and I thought a ghost would come." I had now got +hold of Bessie's hand, and she did not snatch it from me. + +"She has screamed out on purpose," declared Abbot, in some disgust. "And +what a scream! If she had been in great pain one would have excused it, +but she only wanted to bring us all here: I know her naughty tricks." + +"What is all this?" demanded another voice peremptorily; and Mrs. Reed +came along the corridor, her cap flying wide, her gown rustling stormily. +"Abbot and Bessie, I believe I gave orders that Jane Eyre should be left +in the red-room till I came to her myself." + +"Miss Jane screamed so loud, ma'am," pleaded Bessie. + +"Let her go," was the only answer. "Loose Bessie's hand, child: you +cannot succeed in getting out by these means, be assured. I abhor +artifice, particularly in children; it is my duty to show you that tricks +will not answer: you will now stay here an hour longer, and it is only on +condition of perfect submission and stillness that I shall liberate you +then." + +"O aunt! have pity! Forgive me! I cannot endure it--let me be punished +some other way! I shall be killed if--" + +"Silence! This violence is all most repulsive:" and so, no doubt, she +felt it. I was a precocious actress in her eyes; she sincerely looked on +me as a compound of virulent passions, mean spirit, and dangerous +duplicity. + +Bessie and Abbot having retreated, Mrs. Reed, impatient of my now frantic +anguish and wild sobs, abruptly thrust me back and locked me in, without +farther parley. I heard her sweeping away; and soon after she was gone, +I suppose I had a species of fit: unconsciousness closed the scene. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The next thing I remember is, waking up with a feeling as if I had had a +frightful nightmare, and seeing before me a terrible red glare, crossed +with thick black bars. I heard voices, too, speaking with a hollow +sound, and as if muffled by a rush of wind or water: agitation, +uncertainty, and an all-predominating sense of terror confused my +faculties. Ere long, I became aware that some one was handling me; +lifting me up and supporting me in a sitting posture, and that more +tenderly than I had ever been raised or upheld before. I rested my head +against a pillow or an arm, and felt easy. + +In five minutes more the cloud of bewilderment dissolved: I knew quite +well that I was in my own bed, and that the red glare was the nursery +fire. It was night: a candle burnt on the table; Bessie stood at the bed- +foot with a basin in her hand, and a gentleman sat in a chair near my +pillow, leaning over me. + +I felt an inexpressible relief, a soothing conviction of protection and +security, when I knew that there was a stranger in the room, an +individual not belonging to Gateshead, and not related to Mrs. Reed. +Turning from Bessie (though her presence was far less obnoxious to me +than that of Abbot, for instance, would have been), I scrutinised the +face of the gentleman: I knew him; it was Mr. Lloyd, an apothecary, +sometimes called in by Mrs. Reed when the servants were ailing: for +herself and the children she employed a physician. + +"Well, who am I?" he asked. + +I pronounced his name, offering him at the same time my hand: he took it, +smiling and saying, "We shall do very well by-and-by." Then he laid me +down, and addressing Bessie, charged her to be very careful that I was +not disturbed during the night. Having given some further directions, +and intimates that he should call again the next day, he departed; to my +grief: I felt so sheltered and befriended while he sat in the chair near +my pillow; and as he closed the door after him, all the room darkened and +my heart again sank: inexpressible sadness weighed it down. + +"Do you feel as if you should sleep, Miss?" asked Bessie, rather softly. + +Scarcely dared I answer her; for I feared the next sentence might be +rough. "I will try." + +"Would you like to drink, or could you eat anything?" + +"No, thank you, Bessie." + +"Then I think I shall go to bed, for it is past twelve o'clock; but you +may call me if you want anything in the night." + +Wonderful civility this! It emboldened me to ask a question. + +"Bessie, what is the matter with me? Am I ill?" + +"You fell sick, I suppose, in the red-room with crying; you'll be better +soon, no doubt." + +Bessie went into the housemaid's apartment, which was near. I heard her +say-- + +"Sarah, come and sleep with me in the nursery; I daren't for my life be +alone with that poor child to-night: she might die; it's such a strange +thing she should have that fit: I wonder if she saw anything. Missis was +rather too hard." + +Sarah came back with her; they both went to bed; they were whispering +together for half-an-hour before they fell asleep. I caught scraps of +their conversation, from which I was able only too distinctly to infer +the main subject discussed. + +"Something passed her, all dressed in white, and vanished"--"A great +black dog behind him"--"Three loud raps on the chamber door"--"A light in +the churchyard just over his grave," &c. &c. + +At last both slept: the fire and the candle went out. For me, the +watches of that long night passed in ghastly wakefulness; strained by +dread: such dread as children only can feel. + +No severe or prolonged bodily illness followed this incident of the red- +room; it only gave my nerves a shock of which I feel the reverberation to +this day. Yes, Mrs. Reed, to you I owe some fearful pangs of mental +suffering, but I ought to forgive you, for you knew not what you did: +while rending my heart-strings, you thought you were only uprooting my +bad propensities. + +Next day, by noon, I was up and dressed, and sat wrapped in a shawl by +the nursery hearth. I felt physically weak and broken down: but my worse +ailment was an unutterable wretchedness of mind: a wretchedness which +kept drawing from me silent tears; no sooner had I wiped one salt drop +from my cheek than another followed. Yet, I thought, I ought to have +been happy, for none of the Reeds were there, they were all gone out in +the carriage with their mama. Abbot, too, was sewing in another room, +and Bessie, as she moved hither and thither, putting away toys and +arranging drawers, addressed to me every now and then a word of unwonted +kindness. This state of things should have been to me a paradise of +peace, accustomed as I was to a life of ceaseless reprimand and thankless +fagging; but, in fact, my racked nerves were now in such a state that no +calm could soothe, and no pleasure excite them agreeably. + +Bessie had been down into the kitchen, and she brought up with her a tart +on a certain brightly painted china plate, whose bird of paradise, +nestling in a wreath of convolvuli and rosebuds, had been wont to stir in +me a most enthusiastic sense of admiration; and which plate I had often +petitioned to be allowed to take in my hand in order to examine it more +closely, but had always hitherto been deemed unworthy of such a +privilege. This precious vessel was now placed on my knee, and I was +cordially invited to eat the circlet of delicate pastry upon it. Vain +favour! coming, like most other favours long deferred and often wished +for, too late! I could not eat the tart; and the plumage of the bird, +the tints of the flowers, seemed strangely faded: I put both plate and +tart away. Bessie asked if I would have a book: the word _book_ acted as +a transient stimulus, and I begged her to fetch Gulliver's Travels from +the library. This book I had again and again perused with delight. I +considered it a narrative of facts, and discovered in it a vein of +interest deeper than what I found in fairy tales: for as to the elves, +having sought them in vain among foxglove leaves and bells, under +mushrooms and beneath the ground-ivy mantling old wall-nooks, I had at +length made up my mind to the sad truth, that they were all gone out of +England to some savage country where the woods were wilder and thicker, +and the population more scant; whereas, Lilliput and Brobdignag being, in +my creed, solid parts of the earth's surface, I doubted not that I might +one day, by taking a long voyage, see with my own eyes the little fields, +houses, and trees, the diminutive people, the tiny cows, sheep, and birds +of the one realm; and the corn-fields forest-high, the mighty mastiffs, +the monster cats, the tower-like men and women, of the other. Yet, when +this cherished volume was now placed in my hand--when I turned over its +leaves, and sought in its marvellous pictures the charm I had, till now, +never failed to find--all was eerie and dreary; the giants were gaunt +goblins, the pigmies malevolent and fearful imps, Gulliver a most +desolate wanderer in most dread and dangerous regions. I closed the +book, which I dared no longer peruse, and put it on the table, beside the +untasted tart. + +Bessie had now finished dusting and tidying the room, and having washed +her hands, she opened a certain little drawer, full of splendid shreds of +silk and satin, and began making a new bonnet for Georgiana's doll. +Meantime she sang: her song was-- + + "In the days when we went gipsying, + A long time ago." + +I had often heard the song before, and always with lively delight; for +Bessie had a sweet voice,--at least, I thought so. But now, though her +voice was still sweet, I found in its melody an indescribable sadness. +Sometimes, preoccupied with her work, she sang the refrain very low, very +lingeringly; "A long time ago" came out like the saddest cadence of a +funeral hymn. She passed into another ballad, this time a really doleful +one. + + "My feet they are sore, and my limbs they are weary; + Long is the way, and the mountains are wild; + Soon will the twilight close moonless and dreary + Over the path of the poor orphan child. + + Why did they send me so far and so lonely, + Up where the moors spread and grey rocks are piled? + Men are hard-hearted, and kind angels only + Watch o'er the steps of a poor orphan child. + + Yet distant and soft the night breeze is blowing, + Clouds there are none, and clear stars beam mild, + God, in His mercy, protection is showing, + Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child. + + Ev'n should I fall o'er the broken bridge passing, + Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled, + Still will my Father, with promise and blessing, + Take to His bosom the poor orphan child. + + There is a thought that for strength should avail me, + Though both of shelter and kindred despoiled; + Heaven is a home, and a rest will not fail me; + God is a friend to the poor orphan child." + +"Come, Miss Jane, don't cry," said Bessie as she finished. She might as +well have said to the fire, "don't burn!" but how could she divine the +morbid suffering to which I was a prey? In the course of the morning Mr. +Lloyd came again. + +"What, already up!" said he, as he entered the nursery. "Well, nurse, +how is she?" + +Bessie answered that I was doing very well. + +"Then she ought to look more cheerful. Come here, Miss Jane: your name +is Jane, is it not?" + +"Yes, sir, Jane Eyre." + +"Well, you have been crying, Miss Jane Eyre; can you tell me what about? +Have you any pain?" + +"No, sir." + +"Oh! I daresay she is crying because she could not go out with Missis in +the carriage," interposed Bessie. + +"Surely not! why, she is too old for such pettishness." + +I thought so too; and my self-esteem being wounded by the false charge, I +answered promptly, "I never cried for such a thing in my life: I hate +going out in the carriage. I cry because I am miserable." + +"Oh fie, Miss!" said Bessie. + +The good apothecary appeared a little puzzled. I was standing before +him; he fixed his eyes on me very steadily: his eyes were small and grey; +not very bright, but I dare say I should think them shrewd now: he had a +hard-featured yet good-natured looking face. Having considered me at +leisure, he said-- + +"What made you ill yesterday?" + +"She had a fall," said Bessie, again putting in her word. + +"Fall! why, that is like a baby again! Can't she manage to walk at her +age? She must be eight or nine years old." + +"I was knocked down," was the blunt explanation, jerked out of me by +another pang of mortified pride; "but that did not make me ill," I added; +while Mr. Lloyd helped himself to a pinch of snuff. + +As he was returning the box to his waistcoat pocket, a loud bell rang for +the servants' dinner; he knew what it was. "That's for you, nurse," said +he; "you can go down; I'll give Miss Jane a lecture till you come back." + +Bessie would rather have stayed, but she was obliged to go, because +punctuality at meals was rigidly enforced at Gateshead Hall. + +"The fall did not make you ill; what did, then?" pursued Mr. Lloyd when +Bessie was gone. + +"I was shut up in a room where there is a ghost till after dark." + +I saw Mr. Lloyd smile and frown at the same time. + +"Ghost! What, you are a baby after all! You are afraid of ghosts?" + +"Of Mr. Reed's ghost I am: he died in that room, and was laid out there. +Neither Bessie nor any one else will go into it at night, if they can +help it; and it was cruel to shut me up alone without a candle,--so cruel +that I think I shall never forget it." + +"Nonsense! And is it that makes you so miserable? Are you afraid now in +daylight?" + +"No: but night will come again before long: and besides,--I am +unhappy,--very unhappy, for other things." + +"What other things? Can you tell me some of them?" + +How much I wished to reply fully to this question! How difficult it was +to frame any answer! Children can feel, but they cannot analyse their +feelings; and if the analysis is partially effected in thought, they know +not how to express the result of the process in words. Fearful, however, +of losing this first and only opportunity of relieving my grief by +imparting it, I, after a disturbed pause, contrived to frame a meagre, +though, as far as it went, true response. + +"For one thing, I have no father or mother, brothers or sisters." + +"You have a kind aunt and cousins." + +Again I paused; then bunglingly enounced-- + +"But John Reed knocked me down, and my aunt shut me up in the red-room." + +Mr. Lloyd a second time produced his snuff-box. + +"Don't you think Gateshead Hall a very beautiful house?" asked he. "Are +you not very thankful to have such a fine place to live at?" + +"It is not my house, sir; and Abbot says I have less right to be here +than a servant." + +"Pooh! you can't be silly enough to wish to leave such a splendid place?" + +"If I had anywhere else to go, I should be glad to leave it; but I can +never get away from Gateshead till I am a woman." + +"Perhaps you may--who knows? Have you any relations besides Mrs. Reed?" + +"I think not, sir." + +"None belonging to your father?" + +"I don't know. I asked Aunt Reed once, and she said possibly I might +have some poor, low relations called Eyre, but she knew nothing about +them." + +"If you had such, would you like to go to them?" + +I reflected. Poverty looks grim to grown people; still more so to +children: they have not much idea of industrious, working, respectable +poverty; they think of the word only as connected with ragged clothes, +scanty food, fireless grates, rude manners, and debasing vices: poverty +for me was synonymous with degradation. + +"No; I should not like to belong to poor people," was my reply. + +"Not even if they were kind to you?" + +I shook my head: I could not see how poor people had the means of being +kind; and then to learn to speak like them, to adopt their manners, to be +uneducated, to grow up like one of the poor women I saw sometimes nursing +their children or washing their clothes at the cottage doors of the +village of Gateshead: no, I was not heroic enough to purchase liberty at +the price of caste. + +"But are your relatives so very poor? Are they working people?" + +"I cannot tell; Aunt Reed says if I have any, they must be a beggarly +set: I should not like to go a begging." + +"Would you like to go to school?" + +Again I reflected: I scarcely knew what school was: Bessie sometimes +spoke of it as a place where young ladies sat in the stocks, wore +backboards, and were expected to be exceedingly genteel and precise: John +Reed hated his school, and abused his master; but John Reed's tastes were +no rule for mine, and if Bessie's accounts of school-discipline (gathered +from the young ladies of a family where she had lived before coming to +Gateshead) were somewhat appalling, her details of certain +accomplishments attained by these same young ladies were, I thought, +equally attractive. She boasted of beautiful paintings of landscapes and +flowers by them executed; of songs they could sing and pieces they could +play, of purses they could net, of French books they could translate; +till my spirit was moved to emulation as I listened. Besides, school +would be a complete change: it implied a long journey, an entire +separation from Gateshead, an entrance into a new life. + +"I should indeed like to go to school," was the audible conclusion of my +musings. + +"Well, well! who knows what may happen?" said Mr. Lloyd, as he got up. +"The child ought to have change of air and scene," he added, speaking to +himself; "nerves not in a good state." + +Bessie now returned; at the same moment the carriage was heard rolling up +the gravel-walk. + +"Is that your mistress, nurse?" asked Mr. Lloyd. "I should like to speak +to her before I go." + +Bessie invited him to walk into the breakfast-room, and led the way out. +In the interview which followed between him and Mrs. Reed, I presume, +from after-occurrences, that the apothecary ventured to recommend my +being sent to school; and the recommendation was no doubt readily enough +adopted; for as Abbot said, in discussing the subject with Bessie when +both sat sewing in the nursery one night, after I was in bed, and, as +they thought, asleep, "Missis was, she dared say, glad enough to get rid +of such a tiresome, ill-conditioned child, who always looked as if she +were watching everybody, and scheming plots underhand." Abbot, I think, +gave me credit for being a sort of infantine Guy Fawkes. + +On that same occasion I learned, for the first time, from Miss Abbot's +communications to Bessie, that my father had been a poor clergyman; that +my mother had married him against the wishes of her friends, who +considered the match beneath her; that my grandfather Reed was so +irritated at her disobedience, he cut her off without a shilling; that +after my mother and father had been married a year, the latter caught the +typhus fever while visiting among the poor of a large manufacturing town +where his curacy was situated, and where that disease was then prevalent: +that my mother took the infection from him, and both died within a month +of each other. + +Bessie, when she heard this narrative, sighed and said, "Poor Miss Jane +is to be pitied, too, Abbot." + +"Yes," responded Abbot; "if she were a nice, pretty child, one might +compassionate her forlornness; but one really cannot care for such a +little toad as that." + +"Not a great deal, to be sure," agreed Bessie: "at any rate, a beauty +like Miss Georgiana would be more moving in the same condition." + +"Yes, I doat on Miss Georgiana!" cried the fervent Abbot. "Little +darling!--with her long curls and her blue eyes, and such a sweet colour +as she has; just as if she were painted!--Bessie, I could fancy a Welsh +rabbit for supper." + +"So could I--with a roast onion. Come, we'll go down." They went. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +From my discourse with Mr. Lloyd, and from the above reported conference +between Bessie and Abbot, I gathered enough of hope to suffice as a +motive for wishing to get well: a change seemed near,--I desired and +waited it in silence. It tarried, however: days and weeks passed: I had +regained my normal state of health, but no new allusion was made to the +subject over which I brooded. Mrs. Reed surveyed me at times with a +severe eye, but seldom addressed me: since my illness, she had drawn a +more marked line of separation than ever between me and her own children; +appointing me a small closet to sleep in by myself, condemning me to take +my meals alone, and pass all my time in the nursery, while my cousins +were constantly in the drawing-room. Not a hint, however, did she drop +about sending me to school: still I felt an instinctive certainty that +she would not long endure me under the same roof with her; for her +glance, now more than ever, when turned on me, expressed an insuperable +and rooted aversion. + +Eliza and Georgiana, evidently acting according to orders, spoke to me as +little as possible: John thrust his tongue in his cheek whenever he saw +me, and once attempted chastisement; but as I instantly turned against +him, roused by the same sentiment of deep ire and desperate revolt which +had stirred my corruption before, he thought it better to desist, and ran +from me tittering execrations, and vowing I had burst his nose. I had +indeed levelled at that prominent feature as hard a blow as my knuckles +could inflict; and when I saw that either that or my look daunted him, I +had the greatest inclination to follow up my advantage to purpose; but he +was already with his mama. I heard him in a blubbering tone commence the +tale of how "that nasty Jane Eyre" had flown at him like a mad cat: he +was stopped rather harshly-- + +"Don't talk to me about her, John: I told you not to go near her; she is +not worthy of notice; I do not choose that either you or your sisters +should associate with her." + +Here, leaning over the banister, I cried out suddenly, and without at all +deliberating on my words-- + +"They are not fit to associate with me." + +Mrs. Reed was rather a stout woman; but, on hearing this strange and +audacious declaration, she ran nimbly up the stair, swept me like a +whirlwind into the nursery, and crushing me down on the edge of my crib, +dared me in an emphatic voice to rise from that place, or utter one +syllable during the remainder of the day. + +"What would Uncle Reed say to you, if he were alive?" was my scarcely +voluntary demand. I say scarcely voluntary, for it seemed as if my +tongue pronounced words without my will consenting to their utterance: +something spoke out of me over which I had no control. + +"What?" said Mrs. Reed under her breath: her usually cold composed grey +eye became troubled with a look like fear; she took her hand from my arm, +and gazed at me as if she really did not know whether I were child or +fiend. I was now in for it. + +"My Uncle Reed is in heaven, and can see all you do and think; and so can +papa and mama: they know how you shut me up all day long, and how you +wish me dead." + +Mrs. Reed soon rallied her spirits: she shook me most soundly, she boxed +both my ears, and then left me without a word. Bessie supplied the +hiatus by a homily of an hour's length, in which she proved beyond a +doubt that I was the most wicked and abandoned child ever reared under a +roof. I half believed her; for I felt indeed only bad feelings surging +in my breast. + +November, December, and half of January passed away. Christmas and the +New Year had been celebrated at Gateshead with the usual festive cheer; +presents had been interchanged, dinners and evening parties given. From +every enjoyment I was, of course, excluded: my share of the gaiety +consisted in witnessing the daily apparelling of Eliza and Georgiana, and +seeing them descend to the drawing-room, dressed out in thin muslin +frocks and scarlet sashes, with hair elaborately ringletted; and +afterwards, in listening to the sound of the piano or the harp played +below, to the passing to and fro of the butler and footman, to the +jingling of glass and china as refreshments were handed, to the broken +hum of conversation as the drawing-room door opened and closed. When +tired of this occupation, I would retire from the stairhead to the +solitary and silent nursery: there, though somewhat sad, I was not +miserable. To speak truth, I had not the least wish to go into company, +for in company I was very rarely noticed; and if Bessie had but been kind +and companionable, I should have deemed it a treat to spend the evenings +quietly with her, instead of passing them under the formidable eye of +Mrs. Reed, in a room full of ladies and gentlemen. But Bessie, as soon +as she had dressed her young ladies, used to take herself off to the +lively regions of the kitchen and housekeeper's room, generally bearing +the candle along with her. I then sat with my doll on my knee till the +fire got low, glancing round occasionally to make sure that nothing worse +than myself haunted the shadowy room; and when the embers sank to a dull +red, I undressed hastily, tugging at knots and strings as I best might, +and sought shelter from cold and darkness in my crib. To this crib I +always took my doll; human beings must love something, and, in the dearth +of worthier objects of affection, I contrived to find a pleasure in +loving and cherishing a faded graven image, shabby as a miniature +scarecrow. It puzzles me now to remember with what absurd sincerity I +doated on this little toy, half fancying it alive and capable of +sensation. I could not sleep unless it was folded in my night-gown; and +when it lay there safe and warm, I was comparatively happy, believing it +to be happy likewise. + +Long did the hours seem while I waited the departure of the company, and +listened for the sound of Bessie's step on the stairs: sometimes she +would come up in the interval to seek her thimble or her scissors, or +perhaps to bring me something by way of supper--a bun or a +cheese-cake--then she would sit on the bed while I ate it, and when I had +finished, she would tuck the clothes round me, and twice she kissed me, +and said, "Good night, Miss Jane." When thus gentle, Bessie seemed to me +the best, prettiest, kindest being in the world; and I wished most +intensely that she would always be so pleasant and amiable, and never +push me about, or scold, or task me unreasonably, as she was too often +wont to do. Bessie Lee must, I think, have been a girl of good natural +capacity, for she was smart in all she did, and had a remarkable knack of +narrative; so, at least, I judge from the impression made on me by her +nursery tales. She was pretty too, if my recollections of her face and +person are correct. I remember her as a slim young woman, with black +hair, dark eyes, very nice features, and good, clear complexion; but she +had a capricious and hasty temper, and indifferent ideas of principle or +justice: still, such as she was, I preferred her to any one else at +Gateshead Hall. + +It was the fifteenth of January, about nine o'clock in the morning: +Bessie was gone down to breakfast; my cousins had not yet been summoned +to their mama; Eliza was putting on her bonnet and warm garden-coat to go +and feed her poultry, an occupation of which she was fond: and not less +so of selling the eggs to the housekeeper and hoarding up the money she +thus obtained. She had a turn for traffic, and a marked propensity for +saving; shown not only in the vending of eggs and chickens, but also in +driving hard bargains with the gardener about flower-roots, seeds, and +slips of plants; that functionary having orders from Mrs. Reed to buy of +his young lady all the products of her parterre she wished to sell: and +Eliza would have sold the hair off her head if she could have made a +handsome profit thereby. As to her money, she first secreted it in odd +corners, wrapped in a rag or an old curl-paper; but some of these hoards +having been discovered by the housemaid, Eliza, fearful of one day losing +her valued treasure, consented to intrust it to her mother, at a usurious +rate of interest--fifty or sixty per cent.; which interest she exacted +every quarter, keeping her accounts in a little book with anxious +accuracy. + +Georgiana sat on a high stool, dressing her hair at the glass, and +interweaving her curls with artificial flowers and faded feathers, of +which she had found a store in a drawer in the attic. I was making my +bed, having received strict orders from Bessie to get it arranged before +she returned (for Bessie now frequently employed me as a sort of under- +nurserymaid, to tidy the room, dust the chairs, &c.). Having spread the +quilt and folded my night-dress, I went to the window-seat to put in +order some picture-books and doll's house furniture scattered there; an +abrupt command from Georgiana to let her playthings alone (for the tiny +chairs and mirrors, the fairy plates and cups, were her property) stopped +my proceedings; and then, for lack of other occupation, I fell to +breathing on the frost-flowers with which the window was fretted, and +thus clearing a space in the glass through which I might look out on the +grounds, where all was still and petrified under the influence of a hard +frost. + +From this window were visible the porter's lodge and the carriage-road, +and just as I had dissolved so much of the silver-white foliage veiling +the panes as left room to look out, I saw the gates thrown open and a +carriage roll through. I watched it ascending the drive with +indifference; carriages often came to Gateshead, but none ever brought +visitors in whom I was interested; it stopped in front of the house, the +door-bell rang loudly, the new-comer was admitted. All this being +nothing to me, my vacant attention soon found livelier attraction in the +spectacle of a little hungry robin, which came and chirruped on the twigs +of the leafless cherry-tree nailed against the wall near the casement. +The remains of my breakfast of bread and milk stood on the table, and +having crumbled a morsel of roll, I was tugging at the sash to put out +the crumbs on the window-sill, when Bessie came running upstairs into the +nursery. + +"Miss Jane, take off your pinafore; what are you doing there? Have you +washed your hands and face this morning?" I gave another tug before I +answered, for I wanted the bird to be secure of its bread: the sash +yielded; I scattered the crumbs, some on the stone sill, some on the +cherry-tree bough, then, closing the window, I replied-- + +"No, Bessie; I have only just finished dusting." + +"Troublesome, careless child! and what are you doing now? You look quite +red, as if you had been about some mischief: what were you opening the +window for?" + +I was spared the trouble of answering, for Bessie seemed in too great a +hurry to listen to explanations; she hauled me to the washstand, +inflicted a merciless, but happily brief scrub on my face and hands with +soap, water, and a coarse towel; disciplined my head with a bristly +brush, denuded me of my pinafore, and then hurrying me to the top of the +stairs, bid me go down directly, as I was wanted in the breakfast-room. + +I would have asked who wanted me: I would have demanded if Mrs. Reed was +there; but Bessie was already gone, and had closed the nursery-door upon +me. I slowly descended. For nearly three months, I had never been +called to Mrs. Reed's presence; restricted so long to the nursery, the +breakfast, dining, and drawing-rooms were become for me awful regions, on +which it dismayed me to intrude. + +I now stood in the empty hall; before me was the breakfast-room door, and +I stopped, intimidated and trembling. What a miserable little poltroon +had fear, engendered of unjust punishment, made of me in those days! I +feared to return to the nursery, and feared to go forward to the parlour; +ten minutes I stood in agitated hesitation; the vehement ringing of the +breakfast-room bell decided me; I _must_ enter. + +"Who could want me?" I asked inwardly, as with both hands I turned the +stiff door-handle, which, for a second or two, resisted my efforts. "What +should I see besides Aunt Reed in the apartment?--a man or a woman?" The +handle turned, the door unclosed, and passing through and curtseying low, +I looked up at--a black pillar!--such, at least, appeared to me, at first +sight, the straight, narrow, sable-clad shape standing erect on the rug: +the grim face at the top was like a carved mask, placed above the shaft +by way of capital. + +Mrs. Reed occupied her usual seat by the fireside; she made a signal to +me to approach; I did so, and she introduced me to the stony stranger +with the words: "This is the little girl respecting whom I applied to +you." + +_He_, for it was a man, turned his head slowly towards where I stood, and +having examined me with the two inquisitive-looking grey eyes which +twinkled under a pair of bushy brows, said solemnly, and in a bass voice, +"Her size is small: what is her age?" + +"Ten years." + +"So much?" was the doubtful answer; and he prolonged his scrutiny for +some minutes. Presently he addressed me--"Your name, little girl?" + +"Jane Eyre, sir." + +In uttering these words I looked up: he seemed to me a tall gentleman; +but then I was very little; his features were large, and they and all the +lines of his frame were equally harsh and prim. + +"Well, Jane Eyre, and are you a good child?" + +Impossible to reply to this in the affirmative: my little world held a +contrary opinion: I was silent. Mrs. Reed answered for me by an +expressive shake of the head, adding soon, "Perhaps the less said on that +subject the better, Mr. Brocklehurst." + +"Sorry indeed to hear it! she and I must have some talk;" and bending +from the perpendicular, he installed his person in the arm-chair opposite +Mrs. Reed's. "Come here," he said. + +I stepped across the rug; he placed me square and straight before him. +What a face he had, now that it was almost on a level with mine! what a +great nose! and what a mouth! and what large prominent teeth! + +"No sight so sad as that of a naughty child," he began, "especially a +naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?" + +"They go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer. + +"And what is hell? Can you tell me that?" + +"A pit full of fire." + +"And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for +ever?" + +"No, sir." + +"What must you do to avoid it?" + +I deliberated a moment; my answer, when it did come, was objectionable: +"I must keep in good health, and not die." + +"How can you keep in good health? Children younger than you die daily. I +buried a little child of five years old only a day or two since,--a good +little child, whose soul is now in heaven. It is to be feared the same +could not be said of you were you to be called hence." + +Not being in a condition to remove his doubt, I only cast my eyes down on +the two large feet planted on the rug, and sighed, wishing myself far +enough away. + +"I hope that sigh is from the heart, and that you repent of ever having +been the occasion of discomfort to your excellent benefactress." + +"Benefactress! benefactress!" said I inwardly: "they all call Mrs. Reed +my benefactress; if so, a benefactress is a disagreeable thing." + +"Do you say your prayers night and morning?" continued my interrogator. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Do you read your Bible?" + +"Sometimes." + +"With pleasure? Are you fond of it?" + +"I like Revelations, and the book of Daniel, and Genesis and Samuel, and +a little bit of Exodus, and some parts of Kings and Chronicles, and Job +and Jonah." + +"And the Psalms? I hope you like them?" + +"No, sir." + +"No? oh, shocking! I have a little boy, younger than you, who knows six +Psalms by heart: and when you ask him which he would rather have, a +gingerbread-nut to eat or a verse of a Psalm to learn, he says: 'Oh! the +verse of a Psalm! angels sing Psalms;' says he, 'I wish to be a little +angel here below;' he then gets two nuts in recompense for his infant +piety." + +"Psalms are not interesting," I remarked. + +"That proves you have a wicked heart; and you must pray to God to change +it: to give you a new and clean one: to take away your heart of stone and +give you a heart of flesh." + +I was about to propound a question, touching the manner in which that +operation of changing my heart was to be performed, when Mrs. Reed +interposed, telling me to sit down; she then proceeded to carry on the +conversation herself. + +"Mr. Brocklehurst, I believe I intimated in the letter which I wrote to +you three weeks ago, that this little girl has not quite the character +and disposition I could wish: should you admit her into Lowood school, I +should be glad if the superintendent and teachers were requested to keep +a strict eye on her, and, above all, to guard against her worst fault, a +tendency to deceit. I mention this in your hearing, Jane, that you may +not attempt to impose on Mr. Brocklehurst." + +Well might I dread, well might I dislike Mrs. Reed; for it was her nature +to wound me cruelly; never was I happy in her presence; however carefully +I obeyed, however strenuously I strove to please her, my efforts were +still repulsed and repaid by such sentences as the above. Now, uttered +before a stranger, the accusation cut me to the heart; I dimly perceived +that she was already obliterating hope from the new phase of existence +which she destined me to enter; I felt, though I could not have expressed +the feeling, that she was sowing aversion and unkindness along my future +path; I saw myself transformed under Mr. Brocklehurst's eye into an +artful, noxious child, and what could I do to remedy the injury? + +"Nothing, indeed," thought I, as I struggled to repress a sob, and +hastily wiped away some tears, the impotent evidences of my anguish. + +"Deceit is, indeed, a sad fault in a child," said Mr. Brocklehurst; "it +is akin to falsehood, and all liars will have their portion in the lake +burning with fire and brimstone; she shall, however, be watched, Mrs. +Reed. I will speak to Miss Temple and the teachers." + +"I should wish her to be brought up in a manner suiting her prospects," +continued my benefactress; "to be made useful, to be kept humble: as for +the vacations, she will, with your permission, spend them always at +Lowood." + +"Your decisions are perfectly judicious, madam," returned Mr. +Brocklehurst. "Humility is a Christian grace, and one peculiarly +appropriate to the pupils of Lowood; I, therefore, direct that especial +care shall be bestowed on its cultivation amongst them. I have studied +how best to mortify in them the worldly sentiment of pride; and, only the +other day, I had a pleasing proof of my success. My second daughter, +Augusta, went with her mama to visit the school, and on her return she +exclaimed: 'Oh, dear papa, how quiet and plain all the girls at Lowood +look, with their hair combed behind their ears, and their long pinafores, +and those little holland pockets outside their frocks--they are almost +like poor people's children! and,' said she, 'they looked at my dress and +mama's, as if they had never seen a silk gown before.'" + +"This is the state of things I quite approve," returned Mrs. Reed; "had I +sought all England over, I could scarcely have found a system more +exactly fitting a child like Jane Eyre. Consistency, my dear Mr. +Brocklehurst; I advocate consistency in all things." + +"Consistency, madam, is the first of Christian duties; and it has been +observed in every arrangement connected with the establishment of Lowood: +plain fare, simple attire, unsophisticated accommodations, hardy and +active habits; such is the order of the day in the house and its +inhabitants." + +"Quite right, sir. I may then depend upon this child being received as a +pupil at Lowood, and there being trained in conformity to her position +and prospects?" + +"Madam, you may: she shall be placed in that nursery of chosen plants, +and I trust she will show herself grateful for the inestimable privilege +of her election." + +"I will send her, then, as soon as possible, Mr. Brocklehurst; for, I +assure you, I feel anxious to be relieved of a responsibility that was +becoming too irksome." + +"No doubt, no doubt, madam; and now I wish you good morning. I shall +return to Brocklehurst Hall in the course of a week or two: my good +friend, the Archdeacon, will not permit me to leave him sooner. I shall +send Miss Temple notice that she is to expect a new girl, so that there +will be no difficulty about receiving her. Good-bye." + +"Good-bye, Mr. Brocklehurst; remember me to Mrs. and Miss Brocklehurst, +and to Augusta and Theodore, and Master Broughton Brocklehurst." + +"I will, madam. Little girl, here is a book entitled the 'Child's +Guide,' read it with prayer, especially that part containing 'An account +of the awfully sudden death of Martha G---, a naughty child addicted to +falsehood and deceit.'" + +With these words Mr. Brocklehurst put into my hand a thin pamphlet sewn +in a cover, and having rung for his carriage, he departed. + +Mrs. Reed and I were left alone: some minutes passed in silence; she was +sewing, I was watching her. Mrs. Reed might be at that time some six or +seven and thirty; she was a woman of robust frame, square-shouldered and +strong-limbed, not tall, and, though stout, not obese: she had a somewhat +large face, the under jaw being much developed and very solid; her brow +was low, her chin large and prominent, mouth and nose sufficiently +regular; under her light eyebrows glimmered an eye devoid of ruth; her +skin was dark and opaque, her hair nearly flaxen; her constitution was +sound as a bell--illness never came near her; she was an exact, clever +manager; her household and tenantry were thoroughly under her control; +her children only at times defied her authority and laughed it to scorn; +she dressed well, and had a presence and port calculated to set off +handsome attire. + +Sitting on a low stool, a few yards from her arm-chair, I examined her +figure; I perused her features. In my hand I held the tract containing +the sudden death of the Liar, to which narrative my attention had been +pointed as to an appropriate warning. What had just passed; what Mrs. +Reed had said concerning me to Mr. Brocklehurst; the whole tenor of their +conversation, was recent, raw, and stinging in my mind; I had felt every +word as acutely as I had heard it plainly, and a passion of resentment +fomented now within me. + +Mrs. Reed looked up from her work; her eye settled on mine, her fingers +at the same time suspended their nimble movements. + +"Go out of the room; return to the nursery," was her mandate. My look or +something else must have struck her as offensive, for she spoke with +extreme though suppressed irritation. I got up, I went to the door; I +came back again; I walked to the window, across the room, then close up +to her. + +_Speak_ I must: I had been trodden on severely, and _must_ turn: but how? +What strength had I to dart retaliation at my antagonist? I gathered my +energies and launched them in this blunt sentence-- + +"I am not deceitful: if I were, I should say I loved you; but I declare I +do not love you: I dislike you the worst of anybody in the world except +John Reed; and this book about the liar, you may give to your girl, +Georgiana, for it is she who tells lies, and not I." + +Mrs. Reed's hands still lay on her work inactive: her eye of ice +continued to dwell freezingly on mine. + +"What more have you to say?" she asked, rather in the tone in which a +person might address an opponent of adult age than such as is ordinarily +used to a child. + +That eye of hers, that voice stirred every antipathy I had. Shaking from +head to foot, thrilled with ungovernable excitement, I continued-- + +"I am glad you are no relation of mine: I will never call you aunt again +as long as I live. I will never come to see you when I am grown up; and +if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you treated me, I will say +the very thought of you makes me sick, and that you treated me with +miserable cruelty." + +"How dare you affirm that, Jane Eyre?" + +"How dare I, Mrs. Reed? How dare I? Because it is the _truth_. You +think I have no feelings, and that I can do without one bit of love or +kindness; but I cannot live so: and you have no pity. I shall remember +how you thrust me back--roughly and violently thrust me back--into the +red-room, and locked me up there, to my dying day; though I was in agony; +though I cried out, while suffocating with distress, 'Have mercy! Have +mercy, Aunt Reed!' And that punishment you made me suffer because your +wicked boy struck me--knocked me down for nothing. I will tell anybody +who asks me questions, this exact tale. People think you a good woman, +but you are bad, hard-hearted. _You_ are deceitful!" + +{How dare I, Mrs. Ried? How dare I? Because it is the truth: p30.jpg} + +Ere I had finished this reply, my soul began to expand, to exult, with +the strangest sense of freedom, of triumph, I ever felt. It seemed as if +an invisible bond had burst, and that I had struggled out into unhoped- +for liberty. Not without cause was this sentiment: Mrs. Reed looked +frightened; her work had slipped from her knee; she was lifting up her +hands, rocking herself to and fro, and even twisting her face as if she +would cry. + +"Jane, you are under a mistake: what is the matter with you? Why do you +tremble so violently? Would you like to drink some water?" + +"No, Mrs. Reed." + +"Is there anything else you wish for, Jane? I assure you, I desire to be +your friend." + +"Not you. You told Mr. Brocklehurst I had a bad character, a deceitful +disposition; and I'll let everybody at Lowood know what you are, and what +you have done." + +"Jane, you don't understand these things: children must be corrected for +their faults." + +"Deceit is not my fault!" I cried out in a savage, high voice. + +"But you are passionate, Jane, that you must allow: and now return to the +nursery--there's a dear--and lie down a little." + +"I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs. +Reed, for I hate to live here." + +"I will indeed send her to school soon," murmured Mrs. Reed _sotto voce_; +and gathering up her work, she abruptly quitted the apartment. + +I was left there alone--winner of the field. It was the hardest battle I +had fought, and the first victory I had gained: I stood awhile on the +rug, where Mr. Brocklehurst had stood, and I enjoyed my conqueror's +solitude. First, I smiled to myself and felt elate; but this fierce +pleasure subsided in me as fast as did the accelerated throb of my +pulses. A child cannot quarrel with its elders, as I had done; cannot +give its furious feelings uncontrolled play, as I had given mine, without +experiencing afterwards the pang of remorse and the chill of reaction. A +ridge of lighted heath, alive, glancing, devouring, would have been a +meet emblem of my mind when I accused and menaced Mrs. Reed: the same +ridge, black and blasted after the flames are dead, would have +represented as meetly my subsequent condition, when half-an-hour's +silence and reflection had shown me the madness of my conduct, and the +dreariness of my hated and hating position. + +Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine +it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavour, metallic and +corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned. Willingly +would I now have gone and asked Mrs. Reed's pardon; but I knew, partly +from experience and partly from instinct, that was the way to make her +repulse me with double scorn, thereby re-exciting every turbulent impulse +of my nature. + +I would fain exercise some better faculty than that of fierce speaking; +fain find nourishment for some less fiendish feeling than that of sombre +indignation. I took a book--some Arabian tales; I sat down and +endeavoured to read. I could make no sense of the subject; my own +thoughts swam always between me and the page I had usually found +fascinating. I opened the glass-door in the breakfast-room: the +shrubbery was quite still: the black frost reigned, unbroken by sun or +breeze, through the grounds. I covered my head and arms with the skirt +of my frock, and went out to walk in a part of the plantation which was +quite sequestrated; but I found no pleasure in the silent trees, the +falling fir-cones, the congealed relics of autumn, russet leaves, swept +by past winds in heaps, and now stiffened together. I leaned against a +gate, and looked into an empty field where no sheep were feeding, where +the short grass was nipped and blanched. It was a very grey day; a most +opaque sky, "onding on snaw," canopied all; thence flakes felt it +intervals, which settled on the hard path and on the hoary lea without +melting. I stood, a wretched child enough, whispering to myself over and +over again, "What shall I do?--what shall I do?" + +All at once I heard a clear voice call, "Miss Jane! where are you? Come +to lunch!" + +It was Bessie, I knew well enough; but I did not stir; her light step +came tripping down the path. + +"You naughty little thing!" she said. "Why don't you come when you are +called?" + +Bessie's presence, compared with the thoughts over which I had been +brooding, seemed cheerful; even though, as usual, she was somewhat cross. +The fact is, after my conflict with and victory over Mrs. Reed, I was not +disposed to care much for the nursemaid's transitory anger; and I _was_ +disposed to bask in her youthful lightness of heart. I just put my two +arms round her and said, "Come, Bessie! don't scold." + +The action was more frank and fearless than any I was habituated to +indulge in: somehow it pleased her. + +"You are a strange child, Miss Jane," she said, as she looked down at me; +"a little roving, solitary thing: and you are going to school, I +suppose?" + +I nodded. + +"And won't you be sorry to leave poor Bessie?" + +"What does Bessie care for me? She is always scolding me." + +"Because you're such a queer, frightened, shy little thing. You should +be bolder." + +"What! to get more knocks?" + +"Nonsense! But you are rather put upon, that's certain. My mother said, +when she came to see me last week, that she would not like a little one +of her own to be in your place.--Now, come in, and I've some good news +for you." + +"I don't think you have, Bessie." + +"Child! what do you mean? What sorrowful eyes you fix on me! Well, but +Missis and the young ladies and Master John are going out to tea this +afternoon, and you shall have tea with me. I'll ask cook to bake you a +little cake, and then you shall help me to look over your drawers; for I +am soon to pack your trunk. Missis intends you to leave Gateshead in a +day or two, and you shall choose what toys you like to take with you." + +"Bessie, you must promise not to scold me any more till I go." + +"Well, I will; but mind you are a very good girl, and don't be afraid of +me. Don't start when I chance to speak rather sharply; it's so +provoking." + +"I don't think I shall ever be afraid of you again, Bessie, because I +have got used to you, and I shall soon have another set of people to +dread." + +"If you dread them they'll dislike you." + +"As you do, Bessie?" + +"I don't dislike you, Miss; I believe I am fonder of you than of all the +others." + +"You don't show it." + +"You little sharp thing! you've got quite a new way of talking. What +makes you so venturesome and hardy?" + +"Why, I shall soon be away from you, and besides"--I was going to say +something about what had passed between me and Mrs. Reed, but on second +thoughts I considered it better to remain silent on that head. + +"And so you're glad to leave me?" + +"Not at all, Bessie; indeed, just now I'm rather sorry." + +"Just now! and rather! How coolly my little lady says it! I dare say +now if I were to ask you for a kiss you wouldn't give it me: you'd say +you'd _rather_ not." + +"I'll kiss you and welcome: bend your head down." Bessie stooped; we +mutually embraced, and I followed her into the house quite comforted. +That afternoon lapsed in peace and harmony; and in the evening Bessie +told me some of her most enchanting stories, and sang me some of her +sweetest songs. Even for me life had its gleams of sunshine. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Five o'clock had hardly struck on the morning of the 19th of January, +when Bessie brought a candle into my closet and found me already up and +nearly dressed. I had risen half-an-hour before her entrance, and had +washed my face, and put on my clothes by the light of a half-moon just +setting, whose rays streamed through the narrow window near my crib. I +was to leave Gateshead that day by a coach which passed the lodge gates +at six a.m. Bessie was the only person yet risen; she had lit a fire in +the nursery, where she now proceeded to make my breakfast. Few children +can eat when excited with the thoughts of a journey; nor could I. Bessie, +having pressed me in vain to take a few spoonfuls of the boiled milk and +bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up some biscuits in a paper and +put them into my bag; then she helped me on with my pelisse and bonnet, +and wrapping herself in a shawl, she and I left the nursery. As we +passed Mrs. Reed's bedroom, she said, "Will you go in and bid Missis good- +bye?" + +"No, Bessie: she came to my crib last night when you were gone down to +supper, and said I need not disturb her in the morning, or my cousins +either; and she told me to remember that she had always been my best +friend, and to speak of her and be grateful to her accordingly." + +"What did you say, Miss?" + +"Nothing: I covered my face with the bedclothes, and turned from her to +the wall." + +"That was wrong, Miss Jane." + +"It was quite right, Bessie. Your Missis has not been my friend: she has +been my foe." + +"O Miss Jane! don't say so!" + +"Good-bye to Gateshead!" cried I, as we passed through the hall and went +out at the front door. + +The moon was set, and it was very dark; Bessie carried a lantern, whose +light glanced on wet steps and gravel road sodden by a recent thaw. Raw +and chill was the winter morning: my teeth chattered as I hastened down +the drive. There was a light in the porter's lodge: when we reached it, +we found the porter's wife just kindling her fire: my trunk, which had +been carried down the evening before, stood corded at the door. It +wanted but a few minutes of six, and shortly after that hour had struck, +the distant roll of wheels announced the coming coach; I went to the door +and watched its lamps approach rapidly through the gloom. + +"Is she going by herself?" asked the porter's wife. + +"Yes." + +"And how far is it?" + +"Fifty miles." + +"What a long way! I wonder Mrs. Reed is not afraid to trust her so far +alone." + +The coach drew up; there it was at the gates with its four horses and its +top laden with passengers: the guard and coachman loudly urged haste; my +trunk was hoisted up; I was taken from Bessie's neck, to which I clung +with kisses. + +"Be sure and take good care of her," cried she to the guard, as he lifted +me into the inside. + +"Ay, ay!" was the answer: the door was slapped to, a voice exclaimed "All +right," and on we drove. Thus was I severed from Bessie and Gateshead; +thus whirled away to unknown, and, as I then deemed, remote and +mysterious regions. + +I remember but little of the journey; I only know that the day seemed to +me of a preternatural length, and that we appeared to travel over +hundreds of miles of road. We passed through several towns, and in one, +a very large one, the coach stopped; the horses were taken out, and the +passengers alighted to dine. I was carried into an inn, where the guard +wanted me to have some dinner; but, as I had no appetite, he left me in +an immense room with a fireplace at each end, a chandelier pendent from +the ceiling, and a little red gallery high up against the wall filled +with musical instruments. Here I walked about for a long time, feeling +very strange, and mortally apprehensive of some one coming in and +kidnapping me; for I believed in kidnappers, their exploits having +frequently figured in Bessie's fireside chronicles. At last the guard +returned; once more I was stowed away in the coach, my protector mounted +his own seat, sounded his hollow horn, and away we rattled over the +"stony street" of L-. + +The afternoon came on wet and somewhat misty: as it waned into dusk, I +began to feel that we were getting very far indeed from Gateshead: we +ceased to pass through towns; the country changed; great grey hills +heaved up round the horizon: as twilight deepened, we descended a valley, +dark with wood, and long after night had overclouded the prospect, I +heard a wild wind rushing amongst trees. + +Lulled by the sound, I at last dropped asleep; I had not long slumbered +when the sudden cessation of motion awoke me; the coach-door was open, +and a person like a servant was standing at it: I saw her face and dress +by the light of the lamps. + +"Is there a little girl called Jane Eyre here?" she asked. I answered +"Yes," and was then lifted out; my trunk was handed down, and the coach +instantly drove away. + +I was stiff with long sitting, and bewildered with the noise and motion +of the coach: Gathering my faculties, I looked about me. Rain, wind, and +darkness filled the air; nevertheless, I dimly discerned a wall before me +and a door open in it; through this door I passed with my new guide: she +shut and locked it behind her. There was now visible a house or +houses--for the building spread far--with many windows, and lights +burning in some; we went up a broad pebbly path, splashing wet, and were +admitted at a door; then the servant led me through a passage into a room +with a fire, where she left me alone. + +I stood and warmed my numbed fingers over the blaze, then I looked round; +there was no candle, but the uncertain light from the hearth showed, by +intervals, papered walls, carpet, curtains, shining mahogany furniture: +it was a parlour, not so spacious or splendid as the drawing-room at +Gateshead, but comfortable enough. I was puzzling to make out the +subject of a picture on the wall, when the door opened, and an individual +carrying a light entered; another followed close behind. + +The first was a tall lady with dark hair, dark eyes, and a pale and large +forehead; her figure was partly enveloped in a shawl, her countenance was +grave, her bearing erect. + +"The child is very young to be sent alone," said she, putting her candle +down on the table. She considered me attentively for a minute or two, +then further added-- + +"She had better be put to bed soon; she looks tired: are you tired?" she +asked, placing her hand on my shoulder. + +"A little, ma'am." + +"And hungry too, no doubt: let her have some supper before she goes to +bed, Miss Miller. Is this the first time you have left your parents to +come to school, my little girl?" + +I explained to her that I had no parents. She inquired how long they had +been dead: then how old I was, what was my name, whether I could read, +write, and sew a little: then she touched my cheek gently with her +forefinger, and saying, "She hoped I should be a good child," dismissed +me along with Miss Miller. + +The lady I had left might be about twenty-nine; the one who went with me +appeared some years younger: the first impressed me by her voice, look, +and air. Miss Miller was more ordinary; ruddy in complexion, though of a +careworn countenance; hurried in gait and action, like one who had always +a multiplicity of tasks on hand: she looked, indeed, what I afterwards +found she really was, an under-teacher. Led by her, I passed from +compartment to compartment, from passage to passage, of a large and +irregular building; till, emerging from the total and somewhat dreary +silence pervading that portion of the house we had traversed, we came +upon the hum of many voices, and presently entered a wide, long room, +with great deal tables, two at each end, on each of which burnt a pair of +candles, and seated all round on benches, a congregation of girls of +every age, from nine or ten to twenty. Seen by the dim light of the +dips, their number to me appeared countless, though not in reality +exceeding eighty; they were uniformly dressed in brown stuff frocks of +quaint fashion, and long holland pinafores. It was the hour of study; +they were engaged in conning over their to-morrow's task, and the hum I +had heard was the combined result of their whispered repetitions. + +Miss Miller signed to me to sit on a bench near the door, then walking up +to the top of the long room she cried out-- + +"Monitors, collect the lesson-books and put them away!" + +Four tall girls arose from different tables, and going round, gathered +the books and removed them. Miss Miller again gave the word of command-- + +"Monitors, fetch the supper-trays!" + +The tall girls went out and returned presently, each bearing a tray, with +portions of something, I knew not what, arranged thereon, and a pitcher +of water and mug in the middle of each tray. The portions were handed +round; those who liked took a draught of the water, the mug being common +to all. When it came to my turn, I drank, for I was thirsty, but did not +touch the food, excitement and fatigue rendering me incapable of eating: +I now saw, however, that it was a thin oaten cake shared into fragments. + +The meal over, prayers were read by Miss Miller, and the classes filed +off, two and two, upstairs. Overpowered by this time with weariness, I +scarcely noticed what sort of a place the bedroom was, except that, like +the schoolroom, I saw it was very long. To-night I was to be Miss +Miller's bed-fellow; she helped me to undress: when laid down I glanced +at the long rows of beds, each of which was quickly filled with two +occupants; in ten minutes the single light was extinguished, and amidst +silence and complete darkness I fell asleep. + +The night passed rapidly. I was too tired even to dream; I only once +awoke to hear the wind rave in furious gusts, and the rain fall in +torrents, and to be sensible that Miss Miller had taken her place by my +side. When I again unclosed my eyes, a loud bell was ringing; the girls +were up and dressing; day had not yet begun to dawn, and a rushlight or +two burned in the room. I too rose reluctantly; it was bitter cold, and +I dressed as well as I could for shivering, and washed when there was a +basin at liberty, which did not occur soon, as there was but one basin to +six girls, on the stands down the middle of the room. Again the bell +rang: all formed in file, two and two, and in that order descended the +stairs and entered the cold and dimly lit schoolroom: here prayers were +read by Miss Miller; afterwards she called out-- + +"Form classes!" + +A great tumult succeeded for some minutes, during which Miss Miller +repeatedly exclaimed, "Silence!" and "Order!" When it subsided, I saw +them all drawn up in four semicircles, before four chairs, placed at the +four tables; all held books in their hands, and a great book, like a +Bible, lay on each table, before the vacant seat. A pause of some +seconds succeeded, filled up by the low, vague hum of numbers; Miss +Miller walked from class to class, hushing this indefinite sound. + +A distant bell tinkled: immediately three ladies entered the room, each +walked to a table and took her seat. Miss Miller assumed the fourth +vacant chair, which was that nearest the door, and around which the +smallest of the children were assembled: to this inferior class I was +called, and placed at the bottom of it. + +Business now began, the day's Collect was repeated, then certain texts of +Scripture were said, and to these succeeded a protracted reading of +chapters in the Bible, which lasted an hour. By the time that exercise +was terminated, day had fully dawned. The indefatigable bell now sounded +for the fourth time: the classes were marshalled and marched into another +room to breakfast: how glad I was to behold a prospect of getting +something to eat! I was now nearly sick from inanition, having taken so +little the day before. + +The refectory was a great, low-ceiled, gloomy room; on two long tables +smoked basins of something hot, which, however, to my dismay, sent forth +an odour far from inviting. I saw a universal manifestation of +discontent when the fumes of the repast met the nostrils of those +destined to swallow it; from the van of the procession, the tall girls of +the first class, rose the whispered words-- + +"Disgusting! The porridge is burnt again!" + +"Silence!" ejaculated a voice; not that of Miss Miller, but one of the +upper teachers, a little and dark personage, smartly dressed, but of +somewhat morose aspect, who installed herself at the top of one table, +while a more buxom lady presided at the other. I looked in vain for her +I had first seen the night before; she was not visible: Miss Miller +occupied the foot of the table where I sat, and a strange, +foreign-looking, elderly lady, the French teacher, as I afterwards found, +took the corresponding seat at the other board. A long grace was said +and a hymn sung; then a servant brought in some tea for the teachers, and +the meal began. + +Ravenous, and now very faint, I devoured a spoonful or two of my portion +without thinking of its taste; but the first edge of hunger blunted, I +perceived I had got in hand a nauseous mess; burnt porridge is almost as +bad as rotten potatoes; famine itself soon sickens over it. The spoons +were moved slowly: I saw each girl taste her food and try to swallow it; +but in most cases the effort was soon relinquished. Breakfast was over, +and none had breakfasted. Thanks being returned for what we had not got, +and a second hymn chanted, the refectory was evacuated for the +schoolroom. I was one of the last to go out, and in passing the tables, +I saw one teacher take a basin of the porridge and taste it; she looked +at the others; all their countenances expressed displeasure, and one of +them, the stout one, whispered-- + +"Abominable stuff! How shameful!" + +A quarter of an hour passed before lessons again began, during which the +schoolroom was in a glorious tumult; for that space of time it seemed to +be permitted to talk loud and more freely, and they used their privilege. +The whole conversation ran on the breakfast, which one and all abused +roundly. Poor things! it was the sole consolation they had. Miss Miller +was now the only teacher in the room: a group of great girls standing +about her spoke with serious and sullen gestures. I heard the name of +Mr. Brocklehurst pronounced by some lips; at which Miss Miller shook her +head disapprovingly; but she made no great effort to check the general +wrath; doubtless she shared in it. + +A clock in the schoolroom struck nine; Miss Miller left her circle, and +standing in the middle of the room, cried-- + +"Silence! To your seats!" + +Discipline prevailed: in five minutes the confused throng was resolved +into order, and comparative silence quelled the Babel clamour of tongues. +The upper teachers now punctually resumed their posts: but still, all +seemed to wait. Ranged on benches down the sides of the room, the eighty +girls sat motionless and erect; a quaint assemblage they appeared, all +with plain locks combed from their faces, not a curl visible; in brown +dresses, made high and surrounded by a narrow tucker about the throat, +with little pockets of holland (shaped something like a Highlander's +purse) tied in front of their frocks, and destined to serve the purpose +of a work-bag: all, too, wearing woollen stockings and country-made +shoes, fastened with brass buckles. Above twenty of those clad in this +costume were full-grown girls, or rather young women; it suited them ill, +and gave an air of oddity even to the prettiest. + +I was still looking at them, and also at intervals examining the +teachers--none of whom precisely pleased me; for the stout one was a +little coarse, the dark one not a little fierce, the foreigner harsh and +grotesque, and Miss Miller, poor thing! looked purple, weather-beaten, +and over-worked--when, as my eye wandered from face to face, the whole +school rose simultaneously, as if moved by a common spring. + +What was the matter? I had heard no order given: I was puzzled. Ere I +had gathered my wits, the classes were again seated: but as all eyes were +now turned to one point, mine followed the general direction, and +encountered the personage who had received me last night. She stood at +the bottom of the long room, on the hearth; for there was a fire at each +end; she surveyed the two rows of girls silently and gravely. Miss +Miller approaching, seemed to ask her a question, and having received her +answer, went back to her place, and said aloud-- + +"Monitor of the first class, fetch the globes!" + +While the direction was being executed, the lady consulted moved slowly +up the room. I suppose I have a considerable organ of veneration, for I +retain yet the sense of admiring awe with which my eyes traced her steps. +Seen now, in broad daylight, she looked tall, fair, and shapely; brown +eyes with a benignant light in their irids, and a fine pencilling of long +lashes round, relieved the whiteness of her large front; on each of her +temples her hair, of a very dark brown, was clustered in round curls, +according to the fashion of those times, when neither smooth bands nor +long ringlets were in vogue; her dress, also in the mode of the day, was +of purple cloth, relieved by a sort of Spanish trimming of black velvet; +a gold watch (watches were not so common then as now) shone at her +girdle. Let the reader add, to complete the picture, refined features; a +complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air and carriage, and he will +have, at least, as clearly as words can give it, a correct idea of the +exterior of Miss Temple--Maria Temple, as I afterwards saw the name +written in a prayer-book intrusted to me to carry to church. + +The superintendent of Lowood (for such was this lady) having taken her +seat before a pair of globes placed on one of the tables, summoned the +first class round her, and commenced giving a lesson on geography; the +lower classes were called by the teachers: repetitions in history, +grammar, &c., went on for an hour; writing and arithmetic succeeded, and +music lessons were given by Miss Temple to some of the elder girls. The +duration of each lesson was measured by the clock, which at last struck +twelve. The superintendent rose-- + +"I have a word to address to the pupils," said she. + +The tumult of cessation from lessons was already breaking forth, but it +sank at her voice. She went on-- + +"You had this morning a breakfast which you could not eat; you must be +hungry:--I have ordered that a lunch of bread and cheese shall be served +to all." + +The teachers looked at her with a sort of surprise. + +"It is to be done on my responsibility," she added, in an explanatory +tone to them, and immediately afterwards left the room. + +The bread and cheese was presently brought in and distributed, to the +high delight and refreshment of the whole school. The order was now +given "To the garden!" Each put on a coarse straw bonnet, with strings +of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze. I was similarly +equipped, and, following the stream, I made my way into the open air. + +The garden was a wide inclosure, surrounded with walls so high as to +exclude every glimpse of prospect; a covered verandah ran down one side, +and broad walks bordered a middle space divided into scores of little +beds: these beds were assigned as gardens for the pupils to cultivate, +and each bed had an owner. When full of flowers they would doubtless +look pretty; but now, at the latter end of January, all was wintry blight +and brown decay. I shuddered as I stood and looked round me: it was an +inclement day for outdoor exercise; not positively rainy, but darkened by +a drizzling yellow fog; all under foot was still soaking wet with the +floods of yesterday. The stronger among the girls ran about and engaged +in active games, but sundry pale and thin ones herded together for +shelter and warmth in the verandah; and amongst these, as the dense mist +penetrated to their shivering frames, I heard frequently the sound of a +hollow cough. + +As yet I had spoken to no one, nor did anybody seem to take notice of me; +I stood lonely enough: but to that feeling of isolation I was accustomed; +it did not oppress me much. I leant against a pillar of the verandah, +drew my grey mantle close about me, and, trying to forget the cold which +nipped me without, and the unsatisfied hunger which gnawed me within, +delivered myself up to the employment of watching and thinking. My +reflections were too undefined and fragmentary to merit record: I hardly +yet knew where I was; Gateshead and my past life seemed floated away to +an immeasurable distance; the present was vague and strange, and of the +future I could form no conjecture. I looked round the convent-like +garden, and then up at the house--a large building, half of which seemed +grey and old, the other half quite new. The new part, containing the +schoolroom and dormitory, was lit by mullioned and latticed windows, +which gave it a church-like aspect; a stone tablet over the door bore +this inscription:-- + +"Lowood Institution.--This portion was rebuilt A.D. ---, by Naomi +Brocklehurst, of Brocklehurst Hall, in this county." "Let your light so +shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your +Father which is in heaven."--St. Matt. v. 16. + +I read these words over and over again: I felt that an explanation +belonged to them, and was unable fully to penetrate their import. I was +still pondering the signification of "Institution," and endeavouring to +make out a connection between the first words and the verse of Scripture, +when the sound of a cough close behind me made me turn my head. I saw a +girl sitting on a stone bench near; she was bent over a book, on the +perusal of which she seemed intent: from where I stood I could see the +title--it was "Rasselas;" a name that struck me as strange, and +consequently attractive. In turning a leaf she happened to look up, and +I said to her directly-- + +"Is your book interesting?" I had already formed the intention of asking +her to lend it to me some day. + +"I like it," she answered, after a pause of a second or two, during which +she examined me. + +"What is it about?" I continued. I hardly know where I found the +hardihood thus to open a conversation with a stranger; the step was +contrary to my nature and habits: but I think her occupation touched a +chord of sympathy somewhere; for I too liked reading, though of a +frivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend the serious +or substantial. + +"You may look at it," replied the girl, offering me the book. + +I did so; a brief examination convinced me that the contents were less +taking than the title: "Rasselas" looked dull to my trifling taste; I saw +nothing about fairies, nothing about genii; no bright variety seemed +spread over the closely-printed pages. I returned it to her; she +received it quietly, and without saying anything she was about to relapse +into her former studious mood: again I ventured to disturb her-- + +"Can you tell me what the writing on that stone over the door means? What +is Lowood Institution?" + +"This house where you are come to live." + +"And why do they call it Institution? Is it in any way different from +other schools?" + +"It is partly a charity-school: you and I, and all the rest of us, are +charity-children. I suppose you are an orphan: are not either your +father or your mother dead?" + +"Both died before I can remember." + +"Well, all the girls here have lost either one or both parents, and this +is called an institution for educating orphans." + +"Do we pay no money? Do they keep us for nothing?" + +"We pay, or our friends pay, fifteen pounds a year for each." + +"Then why do they call us charity-children?" + +"Because fifteen pounds is not enough for board and teaching, and the +deficiency is supplied by subscription." + +"Who subscribes?" + +"Different benevolent-minded ladies and gentlemen in this neighbourhood +and in London." + +"Who was Naomi Brocklehurst?" + +"The lady who built the new part of this house as that tablet records, +and whose son overlooks and directs everything here." + +"Why?" + +"Because he is treasurer and manager of the establishment." + +"Then this house does not belong to that tall lady who wears a watch, and +who said we were to have some bread and cheese?" + +"To Miss Temple? Oh, no! I wish it did: she has to answer to Mr. +Brocklehurst for all she does. Mr. Brocklehurst buys all our food and +all our clothes." + +"Does he live here?" + +"No--two miles off, at a large hall." + +"Is he a good man?" + +"He is a clergyman, and is said to do a great deal of good." + +"Did you say that tall lady was called Miss Temple?" + +"Yes." + +"And what are the other teachers called?" + +"The one with red cheeks is called Miss Smith; she attends to the work, +and cuts out--for we make our own clothes, our frocks, and pelisses, and +everything; the little one with black hair is Miss Scatcherd; she teaches +history and grammar, and hears the second class repetitions; and the one +who wears a shawl, and has a pocket-handkerchief tied to her side with a +yellow ribband, is Madame Pierrot: she comes from Lisle, in France, and +teaches French." + +"Do you like the teachers?" + +"Well enough." + +"Do you like the little black one, and the Madame ---?--I cannot +pronounce her name as you do." + +"Miss Scatcherd is hasty--you must take care not to offend her; Madame +Pierrot is not a bad sort of person." + +"But Miss Temple is the best--isn't she?" + +"Miss Temple is very good and very clever; she is above the rest, because +she knows far more than they do." + +"Have you been long here?" + +"Two years." + +"Are you an orphan?" + +"My mother is dead." + +"Are you happy here?" + +"You ask rather too many questions. I have given you answers enough for +the present: now I want to read." + +But at that moment the summons sounded for dinner; all re-entered the +house. The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely more +appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast: the +dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels, whence rose a strong +steam redolent of rancid fat. I found the mess to consist of indifferent +potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and cooked together. Of +this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful was apportioned to each +pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered within myself whether every +day's fare would be like this. + +After dinner, we immediately adjourned to the schoolroom: lessons +recommenced, and were continued till five o'clock. + +The only marked event of the afternoon was, that I saw the girl with whom +I had conversed in the verandah dismissed in disgrace by Miss Scatcherd +from a history class, and sent to stand in the middle of the large +schoolroom. The punishment seemed to me in a high degree ignominious, +especially for so great a girl--she looked thirteen or upwards. I +expected she would show signs of great distress and shame; but to my +surprise she neither wept nor blushed: composed, though grave, she stood, +the central mark of all eyes. "How can she bear it so quietly--so +firmly?" I asked of myself. "Were I in her place, it seems to me I +should wish the earth to open and swallow me up. She looks as if she +were thinking of something beyond her punishment--beyond her situation: +of something not round her nor before her. I have heard of day-dreams--is +she in a day-dream now? Her eyes are fixed on the floor, but I am sure +they do not see it--her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart: +she is looking at what she can remember, I believe; not at what is really +present. I wonder what sort of a girl she is--whether good or naughty." + +Soon after five p.m. we had another meal, consisting of a small mug of +coffee, and half-a-slice of brown bread. I devoured my bread and drank +my coffee with relish; but I should have been glad of as much more--I was +still hungry. Half-an-hour's recreation succeeded, then study; then the +glass of water and the piece of oat-cake, prayers, and bed. Such was my +first day at Lowood. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The next day commenced as before, getting up and dressing by rushlight; +but this morning we were obliged to dispense with the ceremony of +washing; the water in the pitchers was frozen. A change had taken place +in the weather the preceding evening, and a keen north-east wind, +whistling through the crevices of our bedroom windows all night long, had +made us shiver in our beds, and turned the contents of the ewers to ice. + +Before the long hour and a half of prayers and Bible-reading was over, I +felt ready to perish with cold. Breakfast-time came at last, and this +morning the porridge was not burnt; the quality was eatable, the quantity +small. How small my portion seemed! I wished it had been doubled. + +In the course of the day I was enrolled a member of the fourth class, and +regular tasks and occupations were assigned me: hitherto, I had only been +a spectator of the proceedings at Lowood; I was now to become an actor +therein. At first, being little accustomed to learn by heart, the +lessons appeared to me both long and difficult; the frequent change from +task to task, too, bewildered me; and I was glad when, about three +o'clock in the afternoon, Miss Smith put into my hands a border of muslin +two yards long, together with needle, thimble, &c., and sent me to sit in +a quiet corner of the schoolroom, with directions to hem the same. At +that hour most of the others were sewing likewise; but one class still +stood round Miss Scatcherd's chair reading, and as all was quiet, the +subject of their lessons could be heard, together with the manner in +which each girl acquitted herself, and the animadversions or +commendations of Miss Scatcherd on the performance. It was English +history: among the readers I observed my acquaintance of the verandah: at +the commencement of the lesson, her place had been at the top of the +class, but for some error of pronunciation, or some inattention to stops, +she was suddenly sent to the very bottom. Even in that obscure position, +Miss Scatcherd continued to make her an object of constant notice: she +was continually addressing to her such phrases as the following:-- + +"Burns" (such it seems was her name: the girls here were all called by +their surnames, as boys are elsewhere), "Burns, you are standing on the +side of your shoe; turn your toes out immediately." "Burns, you poke +your chin most unpleasantly; draw it in." "Burns, I insist on your +holding your head up; I will not have you before me in that attitude," +&c. &c. + +A chapter having been read through twice, the books were closed and the +girls examined. The lesson had comprised part of the reign of Charles +I., and there were sundry questions about tonnage and poundage and ship- +money, which most of them appeared unable to answer; still, every little +difficulty was solved instantly when it reached Burns: her memory seemed +to have retained the substance of the whole lesson, and she was ready +with answers on every point. I kept expecting that Miss Scatcherd would +praise her attention; but, instead of that, she suddenly cried out-- + +"You dirty, disagreeable girl! you have never cleaned your nails this +morning!" + +Burns made no answer: I wondered at her silence. "Why," thought I, "does +she not explain that she could neither clean her nails nor wash her face, +as the water was frozen?" + +My attention was now called off by Miss Smith desiring me to hold a skein +of thread: while she was winding it, she talked to me from time to time, +asking whether I had ever been at school before, whether I could mark, +stitch, knit, &c.; till she dismissed me, I could not pursue my +observations on Miss Scatcherd's movements. When I returned to my seat, +that lady was just delivering an order of which I did not catch the +import; but Burns immediately left the class, and going into the small +inner room where the books were kept, returned in half a minute, carrying +in her hand a bundle of twigs tied together at one end. This ominous +tool she presented to Miss Scatcherd with a respectful curtesy; then she +quietly, and without being told, unloosed her pinafore, and the teacher +instantly and sharply inflicted on her neck a dozen strokes with the +bunch of twigs. Not a tear rose to Burns' eye; and, while I paused from +my sewing, because my fingers quivered at this spectacle with a sentiment +of unavailing and impotent anger, not a feature of her pensive face +altered its ordinary expression. + +"Hardened girl!" exclaimed Miss Scatcherd; "nothing can correct you of +your slatternly habits: carry the rod away." + +Burns obeyed: I looked at her narrowly as she emerged from the +book-closet; she was just putting back her handkerchief into her pocket, +and the trace of a tear glistened on her thin cheek. + +The play-hour in the evening I thought the pleasantest fraction of the +day at Lowood: the bit of bread, the draught of coffee swallowed at five +o'clock had revived vitality, if it had not satisfied hunger: the long +restraint of the day was slackened; the schoolroom felt warmer than in +the morning--its fires being allowed to burn a little more brightly, to +supply, in some measure, the place of candles, not yet introduced: the +ruddy gloaming, the licensed uproar, the confusion of many voices gave +one a welcome sense of liberty. + +On the evening of the day on which I had seen Miss Scatcherd flog her +pupil, Burns, I wandered as usual among the forms and tables and laughing +groups without a companion, yet not feeling lonely: when I passed the +windows, I now and then lifted a blind, and looked out; it snowed fast, a +drift was already forming against the lower panes; putting my ear close +to the window, I could distinguish from the gleeful tumult within, the +disconsolate moan of the wind outside. + +Probably, if I had lately left a good home and kind parents, this would +have been the hour when I should most keenly have regretted the +separation; that wind would then have saddened my heart; this obscure +chaos would have disturbed my peace! as it was, I derived from both a +strange excitement, and reckless and feverish, I wished the wind to howl +more wildly, the gloom to deepen to darkness, and the confusion to rise +to clamour. + +Jumping over forms, and creeping under tables, I made my way to one of +the fire-places; there, kneeling by the high wire fender, I found Burns, +absorbed, silent, abstracted from all round her by the companionship of a +book, which she read by the dim glare of the embers. + +"Is it still 'Rasselas'?" I asked, coming behind her. + +"Yes," she said, "and I have just finished it." + +And in five minutes more she shut it up. I was glad of this. "Now," +thought I, "I can perhaps get her to talk." I sat down by her on the +floor. + +"What is your name besides Burns?" + +"Helen." + +"Do you come a long way from here?" + +"I come from a place farther north, quite on the borders of Scotland." + +"Will you ever go back?" + +"I hope so; but nobody can be sure of the future." + +"You must wish to leave Lowood?" + +"No! why should I? I was sent to Lowood to get an education; and it +would be of no use going away until I have attained that object." + +"But that teacher, Miss Scatcherd, is so cruel to you?" + +"Cruel? Not at all! She is severe: she dislikes my faults." + +"And if I were in your place I should dislike her; I should resist her. +If she struck me with that rod, I should get it from her hand; I should +break it under her nose." + +"Probably you would do nothing of the sort: but if you did, Mr. +Brocklehurst would expel you from the school; that would be a great grief +to your relations. It is far better to endure patiently a smart which +nobody feels but yourself, than to commit a hasty action whose evil +consequences will extend to all connected with you; and besides, the +Bible bids us return good for evil." + +"But then it seems disgraceful to be flogged, and to be sent to stand in +the middle of a room full of people; and you are such a great girl: I am +far younger than you, and I could not bear it." + +"Yet it would be your duty to bear it, if you could not avoid it: it is +weak and silly to say you _cannot bear_ what it is your fate to be +required to bear." + +I heard her with wonder: I could not comprehend this doctrine of +endurance; and still less could I understand or sympathise with the +forbearance she expressed for her chastiser. Still I felt that Helen +Burns considered things by a light invisible to my eyes. I suspected she +might be right and I wrong; but I would not ponder the matter deeply; +like Felix, I put it off to a more convenient season. + +"You say you have faults, Helen: what are they? To me you seem very +good." + +"Then learn from me, not to judge by appearances: I am, as Miss Scatcherd +said, slatternly; I seldom put, and never keep, things, in order; I am +careless; I forget rules; I read when I should learn my lessons; I have +no method; and sometimes I say, like you, I cannot _bear_ to be subjected +to systematic arrangements. This is all very provoking to Miss +Scatcherd, who is naturally neat, punctual, and particular." + +"And cross and cruel," I added; but Helen Burns would not admit my +addition: she kept silence. + +"Is Miss Temple as severe to you as Miss Scatcherd?" + +At the utterance of Miss Temple's name, a soft smile flitted over her +grave face. + +"Miss Temple is full of goodness; it pains her to be severe to any one, +even the worst in the school: she sees my errors, and tells me of them +gently; and, if I do anything worthy of praise, she gives me my meed +liberally. One strong proof of my wretchedly defective nature is, that +even her expostulations, so mild, so rational, have not influence to cure +me of my faults; and even her praise, though I value it most highly, +cannot stimulate me to continued care and foresight." + +"That is curious," said I, "it is so easy to be careful." + +"For _you_ I have no doubt it is. I observed you in your class this +morning, and saw you were closely attentive: your thoughts never seemed +to wander while Miss Miller explained the lesson and questioned you. Now, +mine continually rove away; when I should be listening to Miss Scatcherd, +and collecting all she says with assiduity, often I lose the very sound +of her voice; I fall into a sort of dream. Sometimes I think I am in +Northumberland, and that the noises I hear round me are the bubbling of a +little brook which runs through Deepden, near our house;--then, when it +comes to my turn to reply, I have to be awakened; and having heard +nothing of what was read for listening to the visionary brook, I have no +answer ready." + +"Yet how well you replied this afternoon." + +"It was mere chance; the subject on which we had been reading had +interested me. This afternoon, instead of dreaming of Deepden, I was +wondering how a man who wished to do right could act so unjustly and +unwisely as Charles the First sometimes did; and I thought what a pity it +was that, with his integrity and conscientiousness, he could see no +farther than the prerogatives of the crown. If he had but been able to +look to a distance, and see how what they call the spirit of the age was +tending! Still, I like Charles--I respect him--I pity him, poor murdered +king! Yes, his enemies were the worst: they shed blood they had no right +to shed. How dared they kill him!" + +Helen was talking to herself now: she had forgotten I could not very well +understand her--that I was ignorant, or nearly so, of the subject she +discussed. I recalled her to my level. + +"And when Miss Temple teaches you, do your thoughts wander then?" + +"No, certainly, not often; because Miss Temple has generally something to +say which is newer than my own reflections; her language is singularly +agreeable to me, and the information she communicates is often just what +I wished to gain." + +"Well, then, with Miss Temple you are good?" + +"Yes, in a passive way: I make no effort; I follow as inclination guides +me. There is no merit in such goodness." + +"A great deal: you are good to those who are good to you. It is all I +ever desire to be. If people were always kind and obedient to those who +are cruel and unjust, the wicked people would have it all their own way: +they would never feel afraid, and so they would never alter, but would +grow worse and worse. When we are struck at without a reason, we should +strike back again very hard; I am sure we should--so hard as to teach the +person who struck us never to do it again." + +"You will change your mind, I hope, when you grow older: as yet you are +but a little untaught girl." + +"But I feel this, Helen; I must dislike those who, whatever I do to +please them, persist in disliking me; I must resist those who punish me +unjustly. It is as natural as that I should love those who show me +affection, or submit to punishment when I feel it is deserved." + +"Heathens and savage tribes hold that doctrine, but Christians and +civilised nations disown it." + +"How? I don't understand." + +"It is not violence that best overcomes hate--nor vengeance that most +certainly heals injury." + +"What then?" + +"Read the New Testament, and observe what Christ says, and how He acts; +make His word your rule, and His conduct your example." + +"What does He say?" + +"Love your enemies; bless them that curse you; do good to them that hate +you and despitefully use you." + +"Then I should love Mrs. Reed, which I cannot do; I should bless her son +John, which is impossible." + +In her turn, Helen Burns asked me to explain, and I proceeded forthwith +to pour out, in my own way, the tale of my sufferings and resentments. +Bitter and truculent when excited, I spoke as I felt, without reserve or +softening. + +Helen heard me patiently to the end: I expected she would then make a +remark, but she said nothing. + +"Well," I asked impatiently, "is not Mrs. Reed a hard-hearted, bad +woman?" + +"She has been unkind to you, no doubt; because you see, she dislikes your +cast of character, as Miss Scatcherd does mine; but how minutely you +remember all she has done and said to you! What a singularly deep +impression her injustice seems to have made on your heart! No ill-usage +so brands its record on my feelings. Would you not be happier if you +tried to forget her severity, together with the passionate emotions it +excited? Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity +or registering wrongs. We are, and must be, one and all, burdened with +faults in this world: but the time will soon come when, I trust, we shall +put them off in putting off our corruptible bodies; when debasement and +sin will fall from us with this cumbrous frame of flesh, and only the +spark of the spirit will remain,--the impalpable principle of light and +thought, pure as when it left the Creator to inspire the creature: whence +it came it will return; perhaps again to be communicated to some being +higher than man--perhaps to pass through gradations of glory, from the +pale human soul to brighten to the seraph! Surely it will never, on the +contrary, be suffered to degenerate from man to fiend? No; I cannot +believe that: I hold another creed: which no one ever taught me, and +which I seldom mention; but in which I delight, and to which I cling: for +it extends hope to all: it makes Eternity a rest--a mighty home, not a +terror and an abyss. Besides, with this creed, I can so clearly +distinguish between the criminal and his crime; I can so sincerely +forgive the first while I abhor the last: with this creed revenge never +worries my heart, degradation never too deeply disgusts me, injustice +never crushes me too low: I live in calm, looking to the end." + +Helen's head, always drooping, sank a little lower as she finished this +sentence. I saw by her look she wished no longer to talk to me, but +rather to converse with her own thoughts. She was not allowed much time +for meditation: a monitor, a great rough girl, presently came up, +exclaiming in a strong Cumberland accent-- + +"Helen Burns, if you don't go and put your drawer in order, and fold up +your work this minute, I'll tell Miss Scatcherd to come and look at it!" + +Helen sighed as her reverie fled, and getting up, obeyed the monitor +without reply as without delay. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +My first quarter at Lowood seemed an age; and not the golden age either; +it comprised an irksome struggle with difficulties in habituating myself +to new rules and unwonted tasks. The fear of failure in these points +harassed me worse than the physical hardships of my lot; though these +were no trifles. + +During January, February, and part of March, the deep snows, and, after +their melting, the almost impassable roads, prevented our stirring beyond +the garden walls, except to go to church; but within these limits we had +to pass an hour every day in the open air. Our clothing was insufficient +to protect us from the severe cold: we had no boots, the snow got into +our shoes and melted there: our ungloved hands became numbed and covered +with chilblains, as were our feet: I remember well the distracting +irritation I endured from this cause every evening, when my feet +inflamed; and the torture of thrusting the swelled, raw, and stiff toes +into my shoes in the morning. Then the scanty supply of food was +distressing: with the keen appetites of growing children, we had scarcely +sufficient to keep alive a delicate invalid. From this deficiency of +nourishment resulted an abuse, which pressed hardly on the younger +pupils: whenever the famished great girls had an opportunity, they would +coax or menace the little ones out of their portion. Many a time I have +shared between two claimants the precious morsel of brown bread +distributed at tea-time; and after relinquishing to a third half the +contents of my mug of coffee, I have swallowed the remainder with an +accompaniment of secret tears, forced from me by the exigency of hunger. + +Sundays were dreary days in that wintry season. We had to walk two miles +to Brocklebridge Church, where our patron officiated. We set out cold, +we arrived at church colder: during the morning service we became almost +paralysed. It was too far to return to dinner, and an allowance of cold +meat and bread, in the same penurious proportion observed in our ordinary +meals, was served round between the services. + +At the close of the afternoon service we returned by an exposed and hilly +road, where the bitter winter wind, blowing over a range of snowy summits +to the north, almost flayed the skin from our faces. + +I can remember Miss Temple walking lightly and rapidly along our drooping +line, her plaid cloak, which the frosty wind fluttered, gathered close +about her, and encouraging us, by precept and example, to keep up our +spirits, and march forward, as she said, "like stalwart soldiers." The +other teachers, poor things, were generally themselves too much dejected +to attempt the task of cheering others. + +How we longed for the light and heat of a blazing fire when we got back! +But, to the little ones at least, this was denied: each hearth in the +schoolroom was immediately surrounded by a double row of great girls, and +behind them the younger children crouched in groups, wrapping their +starved arms in their pinafores. + +A little solace came at tea-time, in the shape of a double ration of +bread--a whole, instead of a half, slice--with the delicious addition of +a thin scrape of butter: it was the hebdomadal treat to which we all +looked forward from Sabbath to Sabbath. I generally contrived to reserve +a moiety of this bounteous repast for myself; but the remainder I was +invariably obliged to part with. + +The Sunday evening was spent in repeating, by heart, the Church +Catechism, and the fifth, sixth, and seventh chapters of St. Matthew; and +in listening to a long sermon, read by Miss Miller, whose irrepressible +yawns attested her weariness. A frequent interlude of these performances +was the enactment of the part of Eutychus by some half-dozen of little +girls, who, overpowered with sleep, would fall down, if not out of the +third loft, yet off the fourth form, and be taken up half dead. The +remedy was, to thrust them forward into the centre of the schoolroom, and +oblige them to stand there till the sermon was finished. Sometimes their +feet failed them, and they sank together in a heap; they were then +propped up with the monitors' high stools. + +I have not yet alluded to the visits of Mr. Brocklehurst; and indeed that +gentleman was from home during the greater part of the first month after +my arrival; perhaps prolonging his stay with his friend the archdeacon: +his absence was a relief to me. I need not say that I had my own reasons +for dreading his coming: but come he did at last. + +One afternoon (I had then been three weeks at Lowood), as I was sitting +with a slate in my hand, puzzling over a sum in long division, my eyes, +raised in abstraction to the window, caught sight of a figure just +passing: I recognised almost instinctively that gaunt outline; and when, +two minutes after, all the school, teachers included, rose _en masse_, it +was not necessary for me to look up in order to ascertain whose entrance +they thus greeted. A long stride measured the schoolroom, and presently +beside Miss Temple, who herself had risen, stood the same black column +which had frowned on me so ominously from the hearthrug of Gateshead. I +now glanced sideways at this piece of architecture. Yes, I was right: it +was Mr. Brocklehurst, buttoned up in a surtout, and looking longer, +narrower, and more rigid than ever. + +I had my own reasons for being dismayed at this apparition; too well I +remembered the perfidious hints given by Mrs. Reed about my disposition, +&c.; the promise pledged by Mr. Brocklehurst to apprise Miss Temple and +the teachers of my vicious nature. All along I had been dreading the +fulfilment of this promise,--I had been looking out daily for the "Coming +Man," whose information respecting my past life and conversation was to +brand me as a bad child for ever: now there he was. + +He stood at Miss Temple's side; he was speaking low in her ear: I did not +doubt he was making disclosures of my villainy; and I watched her eye +with painful anxiety, expecting every moment to see its dark orb turn on +me a glance of repugnance and contempt. I listened too; and as I +happened to be seated quite at the top of the room, I caught most of what +he said: its import relieved me from immediate apprehension. + +"I suppose, Miss Temple, the thread I bought at Lowton will do; it struck +me that it would be just of the quality for the calico chemises, and I +sorted the needles to match. You may tell Miss Smith that I forgot to +make a memorandum of the darning needles, but she shall have some papers +sent in next week; and she is not, on any account, to give out more than +one at a time to each pupil: if they have more, they are apt to be +careless and lose them. And, O ma'am! I wish the woollen stockings were +better looked to!--when I was here last, I went into the kitchen-garden +and examined the clothes drying on the line; there was a quantity of +black hose in a very bad state of repair: from the size of the holes in +them I was sure they had not been well mended from time to time." + +He paused. + +"Your directions shall be attended to, sir," said Miss Temple. + +"And, ma'am," he continued, "the laundress tells me some of the girls +have two clean tuckers in the week: it is too much; the rules limit them +to one." + +"I think I can explain that circumstance, sir. Agnes and Catherine +Johnstone were invited to take tea with some friends at Lowton last +Thursday, and I gave them leave to put on clean tuckers for the +occasion." + +Mr. Brocklehurst nodded. + +"Well, for once it may pass; but please not to let the circumstance occur +too often. And there is another thing which surprised me; I find, in +settling accounts with the housekeeper, that a lunch, consisting of bread +and cheese, has twice been served out to the girls during the past +fortnight. How is this? I looked over the regulations, and I find no +such meal as lunch mentioned. Who introduced this innovation? and by +what authority?" + +"I must be responsible for the circumstance, sir," replied Miss Temple: +"the breakfast was so ill prepared that the pupils could not possibly eat +it; and I dared not allow them to remain fasting till dinner-time." + +"Madam, allow me an instant. You are aware that my plan in bringing up +these girls is, not to accustom them to habits of luxury and indulgence, +but to render them hardy, patient, self-denying. Should any little +accidental disappointment of the appetite occur, such as the spoiling of +a meal, the under or the over dressing of a dish, the incident ought not +to be neutralised by replacing with something more delicate the comfort +lost, thus pampering the body and obviating the aim of this institution; +it ought to be improved to the spiritual edification of the pupils, by +encouraging them to evince fortitude under temporary privation. A brief +address on those occasions would not be mistimed, wherein a judicious +instructor would take the opportunity of referring to the sufferings of +the primitive Christians; to the torments of martyrs; to the exhortations +of our blessed Lord Himself, calling upon His disciples to take up their +cross and follow Him; to His warnings that man shall not live by bread +alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God; to His +divine consolations, "If ye suffer hunger or thirst for My sake, happy +are ye." Oh, madam, when you put bread and cheese, instead of burnt +porridge, into these children's mouths, you may indeed feed their vile +bodies, but you little think how you starve their immortal souls!" + +Mr. Brocklehurst again paused--perhaps overcome by his feelings. Miss +Temple had looked down when he first began to speak to her; but she now +gazed straight before her, and her face, naturally pale as marble, +appeared to be assuming also the coldness and fixity of that material; +especially her mouth, closed as if it would have required a sculptor's +chisel to open it, and her brow settled gradually into petrified +severity. + +Meantime, Mr. Brocklehurst, standing on the hearth with his hands behind +his back, majestically surveyed the whole school. Suddenly his eye gave +a blink, as if it had met something that either dazzled or shocked its +pupil; turning, he said in more rapid accents than he had hitherto used-- + +"Miss Temple, Miss Temple, what--_what_ is that girl with curled hair? +Red hair, ma'am, curled--curled all over?" And extending his cane he +pointed to the awful object, his hand shaking as he did so. + +"It is Julia Severn," replied Miss Temple, very quietly. + +"Julia Severn, ma'am! And why has she, or any other, curled hair? Why, +in defiance of every precept and principle of this house, does she +conform to the world so openly--here in an evangelical, charitable +establishment--as to wear her hair one mass of curls?" + +"Julia's hair curls naturally," returned Miss Temple, still more quietly. + +"Naturally! Yes, but we are not to conform to nature; I wish these girls +to be the children of Grace: and why that abundance? I have again and +again intimated that I desire the hair to be arranged closely, modestly, +plainly. Miss Temple, that girl's hair must be cut off entirely; I will +send a barber to-morrow: and I see others who have far too much of the +excrescence--that tall girl, tell her to turn round. Tell all the first +form to rise up and direct their faces to the wall." + +Miss Temple passed her handkerchief over her lips, as if to smooth away +the involuntary smile that curled them; she gave the order, however, and +when the first class could take in what was required of them, they +obeyed. Leaning a little back on my bench, I could see the looks and +grimaces with which they commented on this manoeuvre: it was a pity Mr. +Brocklehurst could not see them too; he would perhaps have felt that, +whatever he might do with the outside of the cup and platter, the inside +was further beyond his interference than he imagined. + +He scrutinised the reverse of these living medals some five minutes, then +pronounced sentence. These words fell like the knell of doom-- + +"All those top-knots must be cut off." + +Miss Temple seemed to remonstrate. + +"Madam," he pursued, "I have a Master to serve whose kingdom is not of +this world: my mission is to mortify in these girls the lusts of the +flesh; to teach them to clothe themselves with shame-facedness and +sobriety, not with braided hair and costly apparel; and each of the young +persons before us has a string of hair twisted in plaits which vanity +itself might have woven; these, I repeat, must be cut off; think of the +time wasted, of--" + +Mr. Brocklehurst was here interrupted: three other visitors, ladies, now +entered the room. They ought to have come a little sooner to have heard +his lecture on dress, for they were splendidly attired in velvet, silk, +and furs. The two younger of the trio (fine girls of sixteen and +seventeen) had grey beaver hats, then in fashion, shaded with ostrich +plumes, and from under the brim of this graceful head-dress fell a +profusion of light tresses, elaborately curled; the elder lady was +enveloped in a costly velvet shawl, trimmed with ermine, and she wore a +false front of French curls. + +These ladies were deferentially received by Miss Temple, as Mrs. and the +Misses Brocklehurst, and conducted to seats of honour at the top of the +room. It seems they had come in the carriage with their reverend +relative, and had been conducting a rummaging scrutiny of the room +upstairs, while he transacted business with the housekeeper, questioned +the laundress, and lectured the superintendent. They now proceeded to +address divers remarks and reproofs to Miss Smith, who was charged with +the care of the linen and the inspection of the dormitories: but I had no +time to listen to what they said; other matters called off and enchanted +my attention. + +Hitherto, while gathering up the discourse of Mr. Brocklehurst and Miss +Temple, I had not, at the same time, neglected precautions to secure my +personal safety; which I thought would be effected, if I could only elude +observation. To this end, I had sat well back on the form, and while +seeming to be busy with my sum, had held my slate in such a manner as to +conceal my face: I might have escaped notice, had not my treacherous +slate somehow happened to slip from my hand, and falling with an +obtrusive crash, directly drawn every eye upon me; I knew it was all over +now, and, as I stooped to pick up the two fragments of slate, I rallied +my forces for the worst. It came. + +"A careless girl!" said Mr. Brocklehurst, and immediately after--"It is +the new pupil, I perceive." And before I could draw breath, "I must not +forget I have a word to say respecting her." Then aloud: how loud it +seemed to me! "Let the child who broke her slate come forward!" + +Of my own accord I could not have stirred; I was paralysed: but the two +great girls who sit on each side of me, set me on my legs and pushed me +towards the dread judge, and then Miss Temple gently assisted me to his +very feet, and I caught her whispered counsel-- + +"Don't be afraid, Jane, I saw it was an accident; you shall not be +punished." + +The kind whisper went to my heart like a dagger. + +"Another minute, and she will despise me for a hypocrite," thought I; and +an impulse of fury against Reed, Brocklehurst, and Co. bounded in my +pulses at the conviction. I was no Helen Burns. + +"Fetch that stool," said Mr. Brocklehurst, pointing to a very high one +from which a monitor had just risen: it was brought. + +"Place the child upon it." + +And I was placed there, by whom I don't know: I was in no condition to +note particulars; I was only aware that they had hoisted me up to the +height of Mr. Brocklehurst's nose, that he was within a yard of me, and +that a spread of shot orange and purple silk pelisses and a cloud of +silvery plumage extended and waved below me. + +Mr. Brocklehurst hemmed. + +"Ladies," said he, turning to his family, "Miss Temple, teachers, and +children, you all see this girl?" + +Of course they did; for I felt their eyes directed like burning-glasses +against my scorched skin. + +"You see she is yet young; you observe she possesses the ordinary form of +childhood; God has graciously given her the shape that He has given to +all of us; no signal deformity points her out as a marked character. Who +would think that the Evil One had already found a servant and agent in +her? Yet such, I grieve to say, is the case." + +A pause--in which I began to steady the palsy of my nerves, and to feel +that the Rubicon was passed; and that the trial, no longer to be shirked, +must be firmly sustained. + +"My dear children," pursued the black marble clergyman, with pathos, +"this is a sad, a melancholy occasion; for it becomes my duty to warn +you, that this girl, who might be one of God's own lambs, is a little +castaway: not a member of the true flock, but evidently an interloper and +an alien. You must be on your guard against her; you must shun her +example; if necessary, avoid her company, exclude her from your sports, +and shut her out from your converse. Teachers, you must watch her: keep +your eyes on her movements, weigh well her words, scrutinise her actions, +punish her body to save her soul: if, indeed, such salvation be possible, +for (my tongue falters while I tell it) this girl, this child, the native +of a Christian land, worse than many a little heathen who says its +prayers to Brahma and kneels before Juggernaut--this girl is--a liar!" + +Now came a pause of ten minutes, during which I, by this time in perfect +possession of my wits, observed all the female Brocklehursts produce +their pocket-handkerchiefs and apply them to their optics, while the +elderly lady swayed herself to and fro, and the two younger ones +whispered, "How shocking!" Mr. Brocklehurst resumed. + +"This I learned from her benefactress; from the pious and charitable lady +who adopted her in her orphan state, reared her as her own daughter, and +whose kindness, whose generosity the unhappy girl repaid by an +ingratitude so bad, so dreadful, that at last her excellent patroness was +obliged to separate her from her own young ones, fearful lest her vicious +example should contaminate their purity: she has sent her here to be +healed, even as the Jews of old sent their diseased to the troubled pool +of Bethesda; and, teachers, superintendent, I beg of you not to allow the +waters to stagnate round her." + +With this sublime conclusion, Mr. Brocklehurst adjusted the top button of +his surtout, muttered something to his family, who rose, bowed to Miss +Temple, and then all the great people sailed in state from the room. +Turning at the door, my judge said-- + +"Let her stand half-an-hour longer on that stool, and let no one speak to +her during the remainder of the day." + +There was I, then, mounted aloft; I, who had said I could not bear the +shame of standing on my natural feet in the middle of the room, was now +exposed to general view on a pedestal of infamy. What my sensations were +no language can describe; but just as they all rose, stifling my breath +and constricting my throat, a girl came up and passed me: in passing, she +lifted her eyes. What a strange light inspired them! What an +extraordinary sensation that ray sent through me! How the new feeling +bore me up! It was as if a martyr, a hero, had passed a slave or victim, +and imparted strength in the transit. I mastered the rising hysteria, +lifted up my head, and took a firm stand on the stool. Helen Burns asked +some slight question about her work of Miss Smith, was chidden for the +triviality of the inquiry, returned to her place, and smiled at me as she +again went by. What a smile! I remember it now, and I know that it was +the effluence of fine intellect, of true courage; it lit up her marked +lineaments, her thin face, her sunken grey eye, like a reflection from +the aspect of an angel. Yet at that moment Helen Burns wore on her arm +"the untidy badge;" scarcely an hour ago I had heard her condemned by +Miss Scatcherd to a dinner of bread and water on the morrow because she +had blotted an exercise in copying it out. Such is the imperfect nature +of man! such spots are there on the disc of the clearest planet; and eyes +like Miss Scatcherd's can only see those minute defects, and are blind to +the full brightness of the orb. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Ere the half-hour ended, five o'clock struck; school was dismissed, and +all were gone into the refectory to tea. I now ventured to descend: it +was deep dusk; I retired into a corner and sat down on the floor. The +spell by which I had been so far supported began to dissolve; reaction +took place, and soon, so overwhelming was the grief that seized me, I +sank prostrate with my face to the ground. Now I wept: Helen Burns was +not here; nothing sustained me; left to myself I abandoned myself, and my +tears watered the boards. I had meant to be so good, and to do so much +at Lowood: to make so many friends, to earn respect and win affection. +Already I had made visible progress: that very morning I had reached the +head of my class; Miss Miller had praised me warmly; Miss Temple had +smiled approbation; she had promised to teach me drawing, and to let me +learn French, if I continued to make similar improvement two months +longer: and then I was well received by my fellow-pupils; treated as an +equal by those of my own age, and not molested by any; now, here I lay +again crushed and trodden on; and could I ever rise more? + +"Never," I thought; and ardently I wished to die. While sobbing out this +wish in broken accents, some one approached: I started up--again Helen +Burns was near me; the fading fires just showed her coming up the long, +vacant room; she brought my coffee and bread. + +"Come, eat something," she said; but I put both away from me, feeling as +if a drop or a crumb would have choked me in my present condition. Helen +regarded me, probably with surprise: I could not now abate my agitation, +though I tried hard; I continued to weep aloud. She sat down on the +ground near me, embraced her knees with her arms, and rested her head +upon them; in that attitude she remained silent as an Indian. I was the +first who spoke-- + +"Helen, why do you stay with a girl whom everybody believes to be a +liar?" + +"Everybody, Jane? Why, there are only eighty people who have heard you +called so, and the world contains hundreds of millions." + +"But what have I to do with millions? The eighty, I know, despise me." + +"Jane, you are mistaken: probably not one in the school either despises +or dislikes you: many, I am sure, pity you much." + +"How can they pity me after what Mr. Brocklehurst has said?" + +"Mr. Brocklehurst is not a god: nor is he even a great and admired man: +he is little liked here; he never took steps to make himself liked. Had +he treated you as an especial favourite, you would have found enemies, +declared or covert, all around you; as it is, the greater number would +offer you sympathy if they dared. Teachers and pupils may look coldly on +you for a day or two, but friendly feelings are concealed in their +hearts; and if you persevere in doing well, these feelings will ere long +appear so much the more evidently for their temporary suppression. +Besides, Jane"--she paused. + +"Well, Helen?" said I, putting my hand into hers: she chafed my fingers +gently to warm them, and went on-- + +"If all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own +conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be +without friends." + +"No; I know I should think well of myself; but that is not enough: if +others don't love me I would rather die than live--I cannot bear to be +solitary and hated, Helen. Look here; to gain some real affection from +you, or Miss Temple, or any other whom I truly love, I would willingly +submit to have the bone of my arm broken, or to let a bull toss me, or to +stand behind a kicking horse, and let it dash its hoof at my chest--" + +"Hush, Jane! you think too much of the love of human beings; you are too +impulsive, too vehement; the sovereign hand that created your frame, and +put life into it, has provided you with other resources than your feeble +self, or than creatures feeble as you. Besides this earth, and besides +the race of men, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: +that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, +for they are commissioned to guard us; and if we were dying in pain and +shame, if scorn smote us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see +our tortures, recognise our innocence (if innocent we be: as I know you +are of this charge which Mr. Brocklehurst has weakly and pompously +repeated at second-hand from Mrs. Reed; for I read a sincere nature in +your ardent eyes and on your clear front), and God waits only the +separation of spirit from flesh to crown us with a full reward. Why, +then, should we ever sink overwhelmed with distress, when life is so soon +over, and death is so certain an entrance to happiness--to glory?" + +I was silent; Helen had calmed me; but in the tranquillity she imparted +there was an alloy of inexpressible sadness. I felt the impression of +woe as she spoke, but I could not tell whence it came; and when, having +done speaking, she breathed a little fast and coughed a short cough, I +momentarily forgot my own sorrows to yield to a vague concern for her. + +Resting my head on Helen's shoulder, I put my arms round her waist; she +drew me to her, and we reposed in silence. We had not sat long thus, +when another person came in. Some heavy clouds, swept from the sky by a +rising wind, had left the moon bare; and her light, streaming in through +a window near, shone full both on us and on the approaching figure, which +we at once recognised as Miss Temple. + +"I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre," said she; "I want you in my +room; and as Helen Burns is with you, she may come too." + +We went; following the superintendent's guidance, we had to thread some +intricate passages, and mount a staircase before we reached her +apartment; it contained a good fire, and looked cheerful. Miss Temple +told Helen Burns to be seated in a low arm-chair on one side of the +hearth, and herself taking another, she called me to her side. + +"Is it all over?" she asked, looking down at my face. "Have you cried +your grief away?" + +"I am afraid I never shall do that." + +"Why?" + +"Because I have been wrongly accused; and you, ma'am, and everybody else, +will now think me wicked." + +"We shall think you what you prove yourself to be, my child. Continue to +act as a good girl, and you will satisfy us." + +"Shall I, Miss Temple?" + +"You will," said she, passing her arm round me. "And now tell me who is +the lady whom Mr. Brocklehurst called your benefactress?" + +"Mrs. Reed, my uncle's wife. My uncle is dead, and he left me to her +care." + +"Did she not, then, adopt you of her own accord?" + +"No, ma'am; she was sorry to have to do it: but my uncle, as I have often +heard the servants say, got her to promise before he died that she would +always keep me." + +"Well now, Jane, you know, or at least I will tell you, that when a +criminal is accused, he is always allowed to speak in his own defence. +You have been charged with falsehood; defend yourself to me as well as +you can. Say whatever your memory suggests is true; but add nothing and +exaggerate nothing." + +I resolved, in the depth of my heart, that I would be most moderate--most +correct; and, having reflected a few minutes in order to arrange +coherently what I had to say, I told her all the story of my sad +childhood. Exhausted by emotion, my language was more subdued than it +generally was when it developed that sad theme; and mindful of Helen's +warnings against the indulgence of resentment, I infused into the +narrative far less of gall and wormwood than ordinary. Thus restrained +and simplified, it sounded more credible: I felt as I went on that Miss +Temple fully believed me. + +In the course of the tale I had mentioned Mr. Lloyd as having come to see +me after the fit: for I never forgot the, to me, frightful episode of the +red-room: in detailing which, my excitement was sure, in some degree, to +break bounds; for nothing could soften in my recollection the spasm of +agony which clutched my heart when Mrs. Reed spurned my wild supplication +for pardon, and locked me a second time in the dark and haunted chamber. + +I had finished: Miss Temple regarded me a few minutes in silence; she +then said-- + +"I know something of Mr. Lloyd; I shall write to him; if his reply agrees +with your statement, you shall be publicly cleared from every imputation; +to me, Jane, you are clear now." + +She kissed me, and still keeping me at her side (where I was well +contented to stand, for I derived a child's pleasure from the +contemplation of her face, her dress, her one or two ornaments, her white +forehead, her clustered and shining curls, and beaming dark eyes), she +proceeded to address Helen Burns. + +"How are you to-night, Helen? Have you coughed much to-day?" + +"Not quite so much, I think, ma'am." + +"And the pain in your chest?" + +"It is a little better." + +Miss Temple got up, took her hand and examined her pulse; then she +returned to her own seat: as she resumed it, I heard her sigh low. She +was pensive a few minutes, then rousing herself, she said cheerfully-- + +"But you two are my visitors to-night; I must treat you as such." She +rang her bell. + +"Barbara," she said to the servant who answered it, "I have not yet had +tea; bring the tray and place cups for these two young ladies." + +And a tray was soon brought. How pretty, to my eyes, did the china cups +and bright teapot look, placed on the little round table near the fire! +How fragrant was the steam of the beverage, and the scent of the toast! +of which, however, I, to my dismay (for I was beginning to be hungry) +discerned only a very small portion: Miss Temple discerned it too. + +"Barbara," said she, "can you not bring a little more bread and butter? +There is not enough for three." + +Barbara went out: she returned soon-- + +"Madam, Mrs. Harden says she has sent up the usual quantity." + +Mrs. Harden, be it observed, was the housekeeper: a woman after Mr. +Brocklehurst's own heart, made up of equal parts of whalebone and iron. + +"Oh, very well!" returned Miss Temple; "we must make it do, Barbara, I +suppose." And as the girl withdrew she added, smiling, "Fortunately, I +have it in my power to supply deficiencies for this once." + +Having invited Helen and me to approach the table, and placed before each +of us a cup of tea with one delicious but thin morsel of toast, she got +up, unlocked a drawer, and taking from it a parcel wrapped in paper, +disclosed presently to our eyes a good-sized seed-cake. + +"I meant to give each of you some of this to take with you," said she, +"but as there is so little toast, you must have it now," and she +proceeded to cut slices with a generous hand. + +We feasted that evening as on nectar and ambrosia; and not the least +delight of the entertainment was the smile of gratification with which +our hostess regarded us, as we satisfied our famished appetites on the +delicate fare she liberally supplied. + +Tea over and the tray removed, she again summoned us to the fire; we sat +one on each side of her, and now a conversation followed between her and +Helen, which it was indeed a privilege to be admitted to hear. + +Miss Temple had always something of serenity in her air, of state in her +mien, of refined propriety in her language, which precluded deviation +into the ardent, the excited, the eager: something which chastened the +pleasure of those who looked on her and listened to her, by a controlling +sense of awe; and such was my feeling now: but as to Helen Burns, I was +struck with wonder. + +The refreshing meal, the brilliant fire, the presence and kindness of her +beloved instructress, or, perhaps, more than all these, something in her +own unique mind, had roused her powers within her. They woke, they +kindled: first, they glowed in the bright tint of her cheek, which till +this hour I had never seen but pale and bloodless; then they shone in the +liquid lustre of her eyes, which had suddenly acquired a beauty more +singular than that of Miss Temple's--a beauty neither of fine colour nor +long eyelash, nor pencilled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of +radiance. Then her soul sat on her lips, and language flowed, from what +source I cannot tell. Has a girl of fourteen a heart large enough, +vigorous enough, to hold the swelling spring of pure, full, fervid +eloquence? Such was the characteristic of Helen's discourse on that, to +me, memorable evening; her spirit seemed hastening to live within a very +brief span as much as many live during a protracted existence. + +They conversed of things I had never heard of; of nations and times past; +of countries far away; of secrets of nature discovered or guessed at: +they spoke of books: how many they had read! What stores of knowledge +they possessed! Then they seemed so familiar with French names and +French authors: but my amazement reached its climax when Miss Temple +asked Helen if she sometimes snatched a moment to recall the Latin her +father had taught her, and taking a book from a shelf, bade her read and +construe a page of Virgil; and Helen obeyed, my organ of veneration +expanding at every sounding line. She had scarcely finished ere the bell +announced bedtime! no delay could be admitted; Miss Temple embraced us +both, saying, as she drew us to her heart-- + +"God bless you, my children!" + +Helen she held a little longer than me: she let her go more reluctantly; +it was Helen her eye followed to the door; it was for her she a second +time breathed a sad sigh; for her she wiped a tear from her cheek. + +On reaching the bedroom, we heard the voice of Miss Scatcherd: she was +examining drawers; she had just pulled out Helen Burns's, and when we +entered Helen was greeted with a sharp reprimand, and told that to-morrow +she should have half-a-dozen of untidily folded articles pinned to her +shoulder. + +"My things were indeed in shameful disorder," murmured Helen to me, in a +low voice: "I intended to have arranged them, but I forgot." + +Next morning, Miss Scatcherd wrote in conspicuous characters on a piece +of pasteboard the word "Slattern," and bound it like a phylactery round +Helen's large, mild, intelligent, and benign-looking forehead. She wore +it till evening, patient, unresentful, regarding it as a deserved +punishment. The moment Miss Scatcherd withdrew after afternoon school, I +ran to Helen, tore it off, and thrust it into the fire: the fury of which +she was incapable had been burning in my soul all day, and tears, hot and +large, had continually been scalding my cheek; for the spectacle of her +sad resignation gave me an intolerable pain at the heart. + +About a week subsequently to the incidents above narrated, Miss Temple, +who had written to Mr. Lloyd, received his answer: it appeared that what +he said went to corroborate my account. Miss Temple, having assembled +the whole school, announced that inquiry had been made into the charges +alleged against Jane Eyre, and that she was most happy to be able to +pronounce her completely cleared from every imputation. The teachers +then shook hands with me and kissed me, and a murmur of pleasure ran +through the ranks of my companions. + +Thus relieved of a grievous load, I from that hour set to work afresh, +resolved to pioneer my way through every difficulty: I toiled hard, and +my success was proportionate to my efforts; my memory, not naturally +tenacious, improved with practice; exercise sharpened my wits; in a few +weeks I was promoted to a higher class; in less than two months I was +allowed to commence French and drawing. I learned the first two tenses +of the verb _Etre_, and sketched my first cottage (whose walls, by-the- +bye, outrivalled in slope those of the leaning tower of Pisa), on the +same day. That night, on going to bed, I forgot to prepare in +imagination the Barmecide supper of hot roast potatoes, or white bread +and new milk, with which I was wont to amuse my inward cravings: I +feasted instead on the spectacle of ideal drawings, which I saw in the +dark; all the work of my own hands: freely pencilled houses and trees, +picturesque rocks and ruins, Cuyp-like groups of cattle, sweet paintings +of butterflies hovering over unblown roses, of birds picking at ripe +cherries, of wren's nests enclosing pearl-like eggs, wreathed about with +young ivy sprays. I examined, too, in thought, the possibility of my +ever being able to translate currently a certain little French story +which Madame Pierrot had that day shown me; nor was that problem solved +to my satisfaction ere I fell sweetly asleep. + +Well has Solomon said--"Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a +stalled ox and hatred therewith." + +I would not now have exchanged Lowood with all its privations for +Gateshead and its daily luxuries. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +But the privations, or rather the hardships, of Lowood lessened. Spring +drew on: she was indeed already come; the frosts of winter had ceased; +its snows were melted, its cutting winds ameliorated. My wretched feet, +flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of January, began to heal +and subside under the gentler breathings of April; the nights and +mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature froze the very blood in +our veins; we could now endure the play-hour passed in the garden: +sometimes on a sunny day it began even to be pleasant and genial, and a +greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested +the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning +brighter traces of her steps. Flowers peeped out amongst the leaves; +snow-drops, crocuses, purple auriculas, and golden-eyed pansies. On +Thursday afternoons (half-holidays) we now took walks, and found still +sweeter flowers opening by the wayside, under the hedges. + +I discovered, too, that a great pleasure, an enjoyment which the horizon +only bounded, lay all outside the high and spike-guarded walls of our +garden: this pleasure consisted in prospect of noble summits girdling a +great hill-hollow, rich in verdure and shadow; in a bright beck, full of +dark stones and sparkling eddies. How different had this scene looked +when I viewed it laid out beneath the iron sky of winter, stiffened in +frost, shrouded with snow!--when mists as chill as death wandered to the +impulse of east winds along those purple peaks, and rolled down "ing" and +holm till they blended with the frozen fog of the beck! That beck itself +was then a torrent, turbid and curbless: it tore asunder the wood, and +sent a raving sound through the air, often thickened with wild rain or +whirling sleet; and for the forest on its banks, _that_ showed only ranks +of skeletons. + +April advanced to May: a bright serene May it was; days of blue sky, +placid sunshine, and soft western or southern gales filled up its +duration. And now vegetation matured with vigour; Lowood shook loose its +tresses; it became all green, all flowery; its great elm, ash, and oak +skeletons were restored to majestic life; woodland plants sprang up +profusely in its recesses; unnumbered varieties of moss filled its +hollows, and it made a strange ground-sunshine out of the wealth of its +wild primrose plants: I have seen their pale gold gleam in overshadowed +spots like scatterings of the sweetest lustre. All this I enjoyed often +and fully, free, unwatched, and almost alone: for this unwonted liberty +and pleasure there was a cause, to which it now becomes my task to +advert. + +Have I not described a pleasant site for a dwelling, when I speak of it +as bosomed in hill and wood, and rising from the verge of a stream? +Assuredly, pleasant enough: but whether healthy or not is another +question. + +That forest-dell, where Lowood lay, was the cradle of fog and fog-bred +pestilence; which, quickening with the quickening spring, crept into the +Orphan Asylum, breathed typhus through its crowded schoolroom and +dormitory, and, ere May arrived, transformed the seminary into an +hospital. + +Semi-starvation and neglected colds had predisposed most of the pupils to +receive infection: forty-five out of the eighty girls lay ill at one +time. Classes were broken up, rules relaxed. The few who continued well +were allowed almost unlimited license; because the medical attendant +insisted on the necessity of frequent exercise to keep them in health: +and had it been otherwise, no one had leisure to watch or restrain them. +Miss Temple's whole attention was absorbed by the patients: she lived in +the sick-room, never quitting it except to snatch a few hours' rest at +night. The teachers were fully occupied with packing up and making other +necessary preparations for the departure of those girls who were +fortunate enough to have friends and relations able and willing to remove +them from the seat of contagion. Many, already smitten, went home only +to die: some died at the school, and were buried quietly and quickly, the +nature of the malady forbidding delay. + +While disease had thus become an inhabitant of Lowood, and death its +frequent visitor; while there was gloom and fear within its walls; while +its rooms and passages steamed with hospital smells, the drug and the +pastille striving vainly to overcome the effluvia of mortality, that +bright May shone unclouded over the bold hills and beautiful woodland out +of doors. Its garden, too, glowed with flowers: hollyhocks had sprung up +tall as trees, lilies had opened, tulips and roses were in bloom; the +borders of the little beds were gay with pink thrift and crimson double +daisies; the sweetbriars gave out, morning and evening, their scent of +spice and apples; and these fragrant treasures were all useless for most +of the inmates of Lowood, except to furnish now and then a handful of +herbs and blossoms to put in a coffin. + +But I, and the rest who continued well, enjoyed fully the beauties of the +scene and season; they let us ramble in the wood, like gipsies, from +morning till night; we did what we liked, went where we liked: we lived +better too. Mr. Brocklehurst and his family never came near Lowood now: +household matters were not scrutinised into; the cross housekeeper was +gone, driven away by the fear of infection; her successor, who had been +matron at the Lowton Dispensary, unused to the ways of her new abode, +provided with comparative liberality. Besides, there were fewer to feed; +the sick could eat little; our breakfast-basins were better filled; when +there was no time to prepare a regular dinner, which often happened, she +would give us a large piece of cold pie, or a thick slice of bread and +cheese, and this we carried away with us to the wood, where we each chose +the spot we liked best, and dined sumptuously. + +My favourite seat was a smooth and broad stone, rising white and dry from +the very middle of the beck, and only to be got at by wading through the +water; a feat I accomplished barefoot. The stone was just broad enough +to accommodate, comfortably, another girl and me, at that time my chosen +comrade--one Mary Ann Wilson; a shrewd, observant personage, whose +society I took pleasure in, partly because she was witty and original, +and partly because she had a manner which set me at my ease. Some years +older than I, she knew more of the world, and could tell me many things I +liked to hear: with her my curiosity found gratification: to my faults +also she gave ample indulgence, never imposing curb or rein on anything I +said. She had a turn for narrative, I for analysis; she liked to inform, +I to question; so we got on swimmingly together, deriving much +entertainment, if not much improvement, from our mutual intercourse. + +And where, meantime, was Helen Burns? Why did I not spend these sweet +days of liberty with her? Had I forgotten her? or was I so worthless as +to have grown tired of her pure society? Surely the Mary Ann Wilson I +have mentioned was inferior to my first acquaintance: she could only tell +me amusing stories, and reciprocate any racy and pungent gossip I chose +to indulge in; while, if I have spoken truth of Helen, she was qualified +to give those who enjoyed the privilege of her converse a taste of far +higher things. + +True, reader; and I knew and felt this: and though I am a defective +being, with many faults and few redeeming points, yet I never tired of +Helen Burns; nor ever ceased to cherish for her a sentiment of +attachment, as strong, tender, and respectful as any that ever animated +my heart. How could it be otherwise, when Helen, at all times and under +all circumstances, evinced for me a quiet and faithful friendship, which +ill-humour never soured, nor irritation never troubled? But Helen was +ill at present: for some weeks she had been removed from my sight to I +knew not what room upstairs. She was not, I was told, in the hospital +portion of the house with the fever patients; for her complaint was +consumption, not typhus: and by consumption I, in my ignorance, +understood something mild, which time and care would be sure to +alleviate. + +I was confirmed in this idea by the fact of her once or twice coming +downstairs on very warm sunny afternoons, and being taken by Miss Temple +into the garden; but, on these occasions, I was not allowed to go and +speak to her; I only saw her from the schoolroom window, and then not +distinctly; for she was much wrapped up, and sat at a distance under the +verandah. + +One evening, in the beginning of June, I had stayed out very late with +Mary Ann in the wood; we had, as usual, separated ourselves from the +others, and had wandered far; so far that we lost our way, and had to ask +it at a lonely cottage, where a man and woman lived, who looked after a +herd of half-wild swine that fed on the mast in the wood. When we got +back, it was after moonrise: a pony, which we knew to be the surgeon's, +was standing at the garden door. Mary Ann remarked that she supposed +some one must be very ill, as Mr. Bates had been sent for at that time of +the evening. She went into the house; I stayed behind a few minutes to +plant in my garden a handful of roots I had dug up in the forest, and +which I feared would wither if I left them till the morning. This done, +I lingered yet a little longer: the flowers smelt so sweet as the dew +fell; it was such a pleasant evening, so serene, so warm; the still +glowing west promised so fairly another fine day on the morrow; the moon +rose with such majesty in the grave east. I was noting these things and +enjoying them as a child might, when it entered my mind as it had never +done before:-- + +"How sad to be lying now on a sick bed, and to be in danger of dying! +This world is pleasant--it would be dreary to be called from it, and to +have to go who knows where?" + +And then my mind made its first earnest effort to comprehend what had +been infused into it concerning heaven and hell; and for the first time +it recoiled, baffled; and for the first time glancing behind, on each +side, and before it, it saw all round an unfathomed gulf: it felt the one +point where it stood--the present; all the rest was formless cloud and +vacant depth; and it shuddered at the thought of tottering, and plunging +amid that chaos. While pondering this new idea, I heard the front door +open; Mr. Bates came out, and with him was a nurse. After she had seen +him mount his horse and depart, she was about to close the door, but I +ran up to her. + +"How is Helen Burns?" + +"Very poorly," was the answer. + +"Is it her Mr. Bates has been to see?" + +"Yes." + +"And what does he say about her?" + +"He says she'll not be here long." + +This phrase, uttered in my hearing yesterday, would have only conveyed +the notion that she was about to be removed to Northumberland, to her own +home. I should not have suspected that it meant she was dying; but I +knew instantly now! It opened clear on my comprehension that Helen Burns +was numbering her last days in this world, and that she was going to be +taken to the region of spirits, if such region there were. I experienced +a shock of horror, then a strong thrill of grief, then a desire--a +necessity to see her; and I asked in what room she lay. + +"She is in Miss Temple's room," said the nurse. + +"May I go up and speak to her?" + +"Oh no, child! It is not likely; and now it is time for you to come in; +you'll catch the fever if you stop out when the dew is falling." + +The nurse closed the front door; I went in by the side entrance which led +to the schoolroom: I was just in time; it was nine o'clock, and Miss +Miller was calling the pupils to go to bed. + +It might be two hours later, probably near eleven, when I--not having +been able to fall asleep, and deeming, from the perfect silence of the +dormitory, that my companions were all wrapt in profound repose--rose +softly, put on my frock over my night-dress, and, without shoes, crept +from the apartment, and set off in quest of Miss Temple's room. It was +quite at the other end of the house; but I knew my way; and the light of +the unclouded summer moon, entering here and there at passage windows, +enabled me to find it without difficulty. An odour of camphor and burnt +vinegar warned me when I came near the fever room: and I passed its door +quickly, fearful lest the nurse who sat up all night should hear me. I +dreaded being discovered and sent back; for I _must_ see Helen,--I must +embrace her before she died,--I must give her one last kiss, exchange +with her one last word. + +Having descended a staircase, traversed a portion of the house below, and +succeeded in opening and shutting, without noise, two doors, I reached +another flight of steps; these I mounted, and then just opposite to me +was Miss Temple's room. A light shone through the keyhole and from under +the door; a profound stillness pervaded the vicinity. Coming near, I +found the door slightly ajar; probably to admit some fresh air into the +close abode of sickness. Indisposed to hesitate, and full of impatient +impulses--soul and senses quivering with keen throes--I put it back and +looked in. My eye sought Helen, and feared to find death. + +Close by Miss Temple's bed, and half covered with its white curtains, +there stood a little crib. I saw the outline of a form under the +clothes, but the face was hid by the hangings: the nurse I had spoken to +in the garden sat in an easy-chair asleep; an unsnuffed candle burnt +dimly on the table. Miss Temple was not to be seen: I knew afterwards +that she had been called to a delirious patient in the fever-room. I +advanced; then paused by the crib side: my hand was on the curtain, but I +preferred speaking before I withdrew it. I still recoiled at the dread +of seeing a corpse. + +"Helen!" I whispered softly, "are you awake?" + +She stirred herself, put back the curtain, and I saw her face, pale, +wasted, but quite composed: she looked so little changed that my fear was +instantly dissipated. + +"Can it be you, Jane?" she asked, in her own gentle voice. + +"Oh!" I thought, "she is not going to die; they are mistaken: she could +not speak and look so calmly if she were." + +I got on to her crib and kissed her: her forehead was cold, and her cheek +both cold and thin, and so were her hand and wrist; but she smiled as of +old. + +"Why are you come here, Jane? It is past eleven o'clock: I heard it +strike some minutes since." + +"I came to see you, Helen: I heard you were very ill, and I could not +sleep till I had spoken to you." + +"You came to bid me good-bye, then: you are just in time probably." + +"Are you going somewhere, Helen? Are you going home?" + +"Yes; to my long home--my last home." + +"No, no, Helen!" I stopped, distressed. While I tried to devour my +tears, a fit of coughing seized Helen; it did not, however, wake the +nurse; when it was over, she lay some minutes exhausted; then she +whispered-- + +"Jane, your little feet are bare; lie down and cover yourself with my +quilt." + +I did so: she put her arm over me, and I nestled close to her. After a +long silence, she resumed, still whispering-- + +"I am very happy, Jane; and when you hear that I am dead, you must be +sure and not grieve: there is nothing to grieve about. We all must die +one day, and the illness which is removing me is not painful; it is +gentle and gradual: my mind is at rest. I leave no one to regret me +much: I have only a father; and he is lately married, and will not miss +me. By dying young, I shall escape great sufferings. I had not +qualities or talents to make my way very well in the world: I should have +been continually at fault." + +"But where are you going to, Helen? Can you see? Do you know?" + +"I believe; I have faith: I am going to God." + +"Where is God? What is God?" + +"My Maker and yours, who will never destroy what He created. I rely +implicitly on His power, and confide wholly in His goodness: I count the +hours till that eventful one arrives which shall restore me to Him, +reveal Him to me." + +"You are sure, then, Helen, that there is such a place as heaven, and +that our souls can get to it when we die?" + +"I am sure there is a future state; I believe God is good; I can resign +my immortal part to Him without any misgiving. God is my father; God is +my friend: I love Him; I believe He loves me." + +"And shall I see you again, Helen, when I die?" + +"You will come to the same region of happiness: be received by the same +mighty, universal Parent, no doubt, dear Jane." + +Again I questioned, but this time only in thought. "Where is that +region? Does it exist?" And I clasped my arms closer round Helen; she +seemed dearer to me than ever; I felt as if I could not let her go; I lay +with my face hidden on her neck. Presently she said, in the sweetest +tone-- + +"How comfortable I am! That last fit of coughing has tired me a little; +I feel as if I could sleep: but don't leave me, Jane; I like to have you +near me." + +"I'll stay with you, _dear_ Helen: no one shall take me away." + +"Are you warm, darling?" + +"Yes." + +"Good-night, Jane." + +"Good-night, Helen." + +She kissed me, and I her, and we both soon slumbered. + +When I awoke it was day: an unusual movement roused me; I looked up; I +was in somebody's arms; the nurse held me; she was carrying me through +the passage back to the dormitory. I was not reprimanded for leaving my +bed; people had something else to think about; no explanation was +afforded then to my many questions; but a day or two afterwards I learned +that Miss Temple, on returning to her own room at dawn, had found me laid +in the little crib; my face against Helen Burns's shoulder, my arms round +her neck. I was asleep, and Helen was--dead. + +Her grave is in Brocklebridge churchyard: for fifteen years after her +death it was only covered by a grassy mound; but now a grey marble tablet +marks the spot, inscribed with her name, and the word "Resurgam." + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Hitherto I have recorded in detail the events of my insignificant +existence: to the first ten years of my life I have given almost as many +chapters. But this is not to be a regular autobiography. I am only +bound to invoke Memory where I know her responses will possess some +degree of interest; therefore I now pass a space of eight years almost in +silence: a few lines only are necessary to keep up the links of +connection. + +When the typhus fever had fulfilled its mission of devastation at Lowood, +it gradually disappeared from thence; but not till its virulence and the +number of its victims had drawn public attention on the school. Inquiry +was made into the origin of the scourge, and by degrees various facts +came out which excited public indignation in a high degree. The +unhealthy nature of the site; the quantity and quality of the children's +food; the brackish, fetid water used in its preparation; the pupils' +wretched clothing and accommodations--all these things were discovered, +and the discovery produced a result mortifying to Mr. Brocklehurst, but +beneficial to the institution. + +Several wealthy and benevolent individuals in the county subscribed +largely for the erection of a more convenient building in a better +situation; new regulations were made; improvements in diet and clothing +introduced; the funds of the school were intrusted to the management of a +committee. Mr. Brocklehurst, who, from his wealth and family +connections, could not be overlooked, still retained the post of +treasurer; but he was aided in the discharge of his duties by gentlemen +of rather more enlarged and sympathising minds: his office of inspector, +too, was shared by those who knew how to combine reason with strictness, +comfort with economy, compassion with uprightness. The school, thus +improved, became in time a truly useful and noble institution. I +remained an inmate of its walls, after its regeneration, for eight years: +six as pupil, and two as teacher; and in both capacities I bear my +testimony to its value and importance. + +During these eight years my life was uniform: but not unhappy, because it +was not inactive. I had the means of an excellent education placed +within my reach; a fondness for some of my studies, and a desire to excel +in all, together with a great delight in pleasing my teachers, especially +such as I loved, urged me on: I availed myself fully of the advantages +offered me. In time I rose to be the first girl of the first class; then +I was invested with the office of teacher; which I discharged with zeal +for two years: but at the end of that time I altered. + +Miss Temple, through all changes, had thus far continued superintendent +of the seminary: to her instruction I owed the best part of my +acquirements; her friendship and society had been my continual solace; +she had stood me in the stead of mother, governess, and, latterly, +companion. At this period she married, removed with her husband (a +clergyman, an excellent man, almost worthy of such a wife) to a distant +county, and consequently was lost to me. + +From the day she left I was no longer the same: with her was gone every +settled feeling, every association that had made Lowood in some degree a +home to me. I had imbibed from her something of her nature and much of +her habits: more harmonious thoughts: what seemed better regulated +feelings had become the inmates of my mind. I had given in allegiance to +duty and order; I was quiet; I believed I was content: to the eyes of +others, usually even to my own, I appeared a disciplined and subdued +character. + +But destiny, in the shape of the Rev. Mr. Nasmyth, came between me and +Miss Temple: I saw her in her travelling dress step into a post-chaise, +shortly after the marriage ceremony; I watched the chaise mount the hill +and disappear beyond its brow; and then retired to my own room, and there +spent in solitude the greatest part of the half-holiday granted in honour +of the occasion. + +I walked about the chamber most of the time. I imagined myself only to +be regretting my loss, and thinking how to repair it; but when my +reflections were concluded, and I looked up and found that the afternoon +was gone, and evening far advanced, another discovery dawned on me, +namely, that in the interval I had undergone a transforming process; that +my mind had put off all it had borrowed of Miss Temple--or rather that +she had taken with her the serene atmosphere I had been breathing in her +vicinity--and that now I was left in my natural element, and beginning to +feel the stirring of old emotions. It did not seem as if a prop were +withdrawn, but rather as if a motive were gone: it was not the power to +be tranquil which had failed me, but the reason for tranquillity was no +more. My world had for some years been in Lowood: my experience had been +of its rules and systems; now I remembered that the real world was wide, +and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and +excitements, awaited those who had courage to go forth into its expanse, +to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils. + +I went to my window, opened it, and looked out. There were the two wings +of the building; there was the garden; there were the skirts of Lowood; +there was the hilly horizon. My eye passed all other objects to rest on +those most remote, the blue peaks; it was those I longed to surmount; all +within their boundary of rock and heath seemed prison-ground, exile +limits. I traced the white road winding round the base of one mountain, +and vanishing in a gorge between two; how I longed to follow it farther! +I recalled the time when I had travelled that very road in a coach; I +remembered descending that hill at twilight; an age seemed to have +elapsed since the day which brought me first to Lowood, and I had never +quitted it since. My vacations had all been spent at school: Mrs. Reed +had never sent for me to Gateshead; neither she nor any of her family had +ever been to visit me. I had had no communication by letter or message +with the outer world: school-rules, school-duties, school-habits and +notions, and voices, and faces, and phrases, and costumes, and +preferences, and antipathies--such was what I knew of existence. And now +I felt that it was not enough; I tired of the routine of eight years in +one afternoon. I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I +uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing. I +abandoned it and framed a humbler supplication; for change, stimulus: +that petition, too, seemed swept off into vague space: "Then," I cried, +half desperate, "grant me at least a new servitude!" + +Here a bell, ringing the hour of supper, called me downstairs. + +I was not free to resume the interrupted chain of my reflections till +bedtime: even then a teacher who occupied the same room with me kept me +from the subject to which I longed to recur, by a prolonged effusion of +small talk. How I wished sleep would silence her. It seemed as if, +could I but go back to the idea which had last entered my mind as I stood +at the window, some inventive suggestion would rise for my relief. + +Miss Gryce snored at last; she was a heavy Welshwoman, and till now her +habitual nasal strains had never been regarded by me in any other light +than as a nuisance; to-night I hailed the first deep notes with +satisfaction; I was debarrassed of interruption; my half-effaced thought +instantly revived. + +"A new servitude! There is something in that," I soliloquised (mentally, +be it understood; I did not talk aloud), "I know there is, because it +does not sound too sweet; it is not like such words as Liberty, +Excitement, Enjoyment: delightful sounds truly; but no more than sounds +for me; and so hollow and fleeting that it is mere waste of time to +listen to them. But Servitude! That must be matter of fact. Any one +may serve: I have served here eight years; now all I want is to serve +elsewhere. Can I not get so much of my own will? Is not the thing +feasible? Yes--yes--the end is not so difficult; if I had only a brain +active enough to ferret out the means of attaining it." + +I sat up in bed by way of arousing this said brain: it was a chilly +night; I covered my shoulders with a shawl, and then I proceeded _to +think_ again with all my might. + +"What do I want? A new place, in a new house, amongst new faces, under +new circumstances: I want this because it is of no use wanting anything +better. How do people do to get a new place? They apply to friends, I +suppose: I have no friends. There are many others who have no friends, +who must look about for themselves and be their own helpers; and what is +their resource?" + +I could not tell: nothing answered me; I then ordered my brain to find a +response, and quickly. It worked and worked faster: I felt the pulses +throb in my head and temples; but for nearly an hour it worked in chaos; +and no result came of its efforts. Feverish with vain labour, I got up +and took a turn in the room; undrew the curtain, noted a star or two, +shivered with cold, and again crept to bed. + +A kind fairy, in my absence, had surely dropped the required suggestion +on my pillow; for as I lay down, it came quietly and naturally to my +mind.--"Those who want situations advertise; you must advertise in the +_---shire Herald_." + +"How? I know nothing about advertising." + +Replies rose smooth and prompt now:-- + +"You must enclose the advertisement and the money to pay for it under a +cover directed to the editor of the _Herald_; you must put it, the first +opportunity you have, into the post at Lowton; answers must be addressed +to J.E., at the post-office there; you can go and inquire in about a week +after you send your letter, if any are come, and act accordingly." + +This scheme I went over twice, thrice; it was then digested in my mind; I +had it in a clear practical form: I felt satisfied, and fell asleep. + +With earliest day, I was up: I had my advertisement written, enclosed, +and directed before the bell rang to rouse the school; it ran thus:-- + +"A young lady accustomed to tuition" (had I not been a teacher two +years?) "is desirous of meeting with a situation in a private family +where the children are under fourteen (I thought that as I was barely +eighteen, it would not do to undertake the guidance of pupils nearer my +own age). She is qualified to teach the usual branches of a good English +education, together with French, Drawing, and Music" (in those days, +reader, this now narrow catalogue of accomplishments, would have been +held tolerably comprehensive). "Address, J.E., Post-office, Lowton, --- +shire." + +This document remained locked in my drawer all day: after tea, I asked +leave of the new superintendent to go to Lowton, in order to perform some +small commissions for myself and one or two of my fellow-teachers; +permission was readily granted; I went. It was a walk of two miles, and +the evening was wet, but the days were still long; I visited a shop or +two, slipped the letter into the post-office, and came back through heavy +rain, with streaming garments, but with a relieved heart. + +The succeeding week seemed long: it came to an end at last, however, like +all sublunary things, and once more, towards the close of a pleasant +autumn day, I found myself afoot on the road to Lowton. A picturesque +track it was, by the way; lying along the side of the beck and through +the sweetest curves of the dale: but that day I thought more of the +letters, that might or might not be awaiting me at the little burgh +whither I was bound, than of the charms of lea and water. + +My ostensible errand on this occasion was to get measured for a pair of +shoes; so I discharged that business first, and when it was done, I +stepped across the clean and quiet little street from the shoemaker's to +the post-office: it was kept by an old dame, who wore horn spectacles on +her nose, and black mittens on her hands. + +"Are there any letters for J.E.?" I asked. + +She peered at me over her spectacles, and then she opened a drawer and +fumbled among its contents for a long time, so long that my hopes began +to falter. At last, having held a document before her glasses for nearly +five minutes, she presented it across the counter, accompanying the act +by another inquisitive and mistrustful glance--it was for J.E. + +"Is there only one?" I demanded. + +"There are no more," said she; and I put it in my pocket and turned my +face homeward: I could not open it then; rules obliged me to be back by +eight, and it was already half-past seven. + +Various duties awaited me on my arrival. I had to sit with the girls +during their hour of study; then it was my turn to read prayers; to see +them to bed: afterwards I supped with the other teachers. Even when we +finally retired for the night, the inevitable Miss Gryce was still my +companion: we had only a short end of candle in our candlestick, and I +dreaded lest she should talk till it was all burnt out; fortunately, +however, the heavy supper she had eaten produced a soporific effect: she +was already snoring before I had finished undressing. There still +remained an inch of candle: I now took out my letter; the seal was an +initial F.; I broke it; the contents were brief. + +"If J.E., who advertised in the _---shire Herald_ of last Thursday, +possesses the acquirements mentioned, and if she is in a position to give +satisfactory references as to character and competency, a situation can +be offered her where there is but one pupil, a little girl, under ten +years of age; and where the salary is thirty pounds per annum. J.E. is +requested to send references, name, address, and all particulars to the +direction:-- + +"Mrs. Fairfax, Thornfield, near Millcote, ---shire." + +I examined the document long: the writing was old-fashioned and rather +uncertain, like that of an elderly lady. This circumstance was +satisfactory: a private fear had haunted me, that in thus acting for +myself, and by my own guidance, I ran the risk of getting into some +scrape; and, above all things, I wished the result of my endeavours to be +respectable, proper, _en regle_. I now felt that an elderly lady was no +bad ingredient in the business I had on hand. Mrs. Fairfax! I saw her +in a black gown and widow's cap; frigid, perhaps, but not uncivil: a +model of elderly English respectability. Thornfield! that, doubtless, +was the name of her house: a neat orderly spot, I was sure; though I +failed in my efforts to conceive a correct plan of the premises. +Millcote, ---shire; I brushed up my recollections of the map of England, +yes, I saw it; both the shire and the town. ---shire was seventy miles +nearer London than the remote county where I now resided: that was a +recommendation to me. I longed to go where there was life and movement: +Millcote was a large manufacturing town on the banks of the A-; a busy +place enough, doubtless: so much the better; it would be a complete +change at least. Not that my fancy was much captivated by the idea of +long chimneys and clouds of smoke--"but," I argued, "Thornfield will, +probably, be a good way from the town." + +Here the socket of the candle dropped, and the wick went out. + +Next day new steps were to be taken; my plans could no longer be confined +to my own breast; I must impart them in order to achieve their success. +Having sought and obtained an audience of the superintendent during the +noontide recreation, I told her I had a prospect of getting a new +situation where the salary would be double what I now received (for at +Lowood I only got 15 pounds per annum); and requested she would break the +matter for me to Mr. Brocklehurst, or some of the committee, and +ascertain whether they would permit me to mention them as references. She +obligingly consented to act as mediatrix in the matter. The next day she +laid the affair before Mr. Brocklehurst, who said that Mrs. Reed must be +written to, as she was my natural guardian. A note was accordingly +addressed to that lady, who returned for answer, that "I might do as I +pleased: she had long relinquished all interference in my affairs." This +note went the round of the committee, and at last, after what appeared to +me most tedious delay, formal leave was given me to better my condition +if I could; and an assurance added, that as I had always conducted myself +well, both as teacher and pupil, at Lowood, a testimonial of character +and capacity, signed by the inspectors of that institution, should +forthwith be furnished me. + +This testimonial I accordingly received in about a month, forwarded a +copy of it to Mrs. Fairfax, and got that lady's reply, stating that she +was satisfied, and fixing that day fortnight as the period for my +assuming the post of governess in her house. + +I now busied myself in preparations: the fortnight passed rapidly. I had +not a very large wardrobe, though it was adequate to my wants; and the +last day sufficed to pack my trunk,--the same I had brought with me eight +years ago from Gateshead. + +The box was corded, the card nailed on. In half-an-hour the carrier was +to call for it to take it to Lowton, whither I myself was to repair at an +early hour the next morning to meet the coach. I had brushed my black +stuff travelling-dress, prepared my bonnet, gloves, and muff; sought in +all my drawers to see that no article was left behind; and now having +nothing more to do, I sat down and tried to rest. I could not; though I +had been on foot all day, I could not now repose an instant; I was too +much excited. A phase of my life was closing to-night, a new one opening +to-morrow: impossible to slumber in the interval; I must watch feverishly +while the change was being accomplished. + +"Miss," said a servant who met me in the lobby, where I was wandering +like a troubled spirit, "a person below wishes to see you." + +"The carrier, no doubt," I thought, and ran downstairs without inquiry. I +was passing the back-parlour or teachers' sitting-room, the door of which +was half open, to go to the kitchen, when some one ran out-- + +"It's her, I am sure!--I could have told her anywhere!" cried the +individual who stopped my progress and took my hand. + +I looked: I saw a woman attired like a well-dressed servant, matronly, +yet still young; very good-looking, with black hair and eyes, and lively +complexion. + +"Well, who is it?" she asked, in a voice and with a smile I half +recognised; "you've not quite forgotten me, I think, Miss Jane?" + +In another second I was embracing and kissing her rapturously: "Bessie! +Bessie! Bessie!" that was all I said; whereat she half laughed, half +cried, and we both went into the parlour. By the fire stood a little +fellow of three years old, in plaid frock and trousers. + +"That is my little boy," said Bessie directly. + +"Then you are married, Bessie?" + +"Yes; nearly five years since to Robert Leaven, the coachman; and I've a +little girl besides Bobby there, that I've christened Jane." + +"And you don't live at Gateshead?" + +"I live at the lodge: the old porter has left." + +"Well, and how do they all get on? Tell me everything about them, +Bessie: but sit down first; and, Bobby, come and sit on my knee, will +you?" but Bobby preferred sidling over to his mother. + +"You're not grown so very tall, Miss Jane, nor so very stout," continued +Mrs. Leaven. "I dare say they've not kept you too well at school: Miss +Reed is the head and shoulders taller than you are; and Miss Georgiana +would make two of you in breadth." + +"Georgiana is handsome, I suppose, Bessie?" + +"Very. She went up to London last winter with her mama, and there +everybody admired her, and a young lord fell in love with her: but his +relations were against the match; and--what do you think?--he and Miss +Georgiana made it up to run away; but they were found out and stopped. It +was Miss Reed that found them out: I believe she was envious; and now she +and her sister lead a cat and dog life together; they are always +quarrelling--" + +"Well, and what of John Reed?" + +"Oh, he is not doing so well as his mama could wish. He went to college, +and he got--plucked, I think they call it: and then his uncles wanted him +to be a barrister, and study the law: but he is such a dissipated young +man, they will never make much of him, I think." + +"What does he look like?" + +"He is very tall: some people call him a fine-looking young man; but he +has such thick lips." + +"And Mrs. Reed?" + +"Missis looks stout and well enough in the face, but I think she's not +quite easy in her mind: Mr. John's conduct does not please her--he spends +a deal of money." + +"Did she send you here, Bessie?" + +"No, indeed: but I have long wanted to see you, and when I heard that +there had been a letter from you, and that you were going to another part +of the country, I thought I'd just set off, and get a look at you before +you were quite out of my reach." + +"I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie." I said this laughing: +I perceived that Bessie's glance, though it expressed regard, did in no +shape denote admiration. + +"No, Miss Jane, not exactly: you are genteel enough; you look like a +lady, and it is as much as ever I expected of you: you were no beauty as +a child." + +I smiled at Bessie's frank answer: I felt that it was correct, but I +confess I was not quite indifferent to its import: at eighteen most +people wish to please, and the conviction that they have not an exterior +likely to second that desire brings anything but gratification. + +"I dare say you are clever, though," continued Bessie, by way of solace. +"What can you do? Can you play on the piano?" + +"A little." + +There was one in the room; Bessie went and opened it, and then asked me +to sit down and give her a tune: I played a waltz or two, and she was +charmed. + +"The Miss Reeds could not play as well!" said she exultingly. "I always +said you would surpass them in learning: and can you draw?" + +"That is one of my paintings over the chimney-piece." It was a landscape +in water colours, of which I had made a present to the superintendent, in +acknowledgment of her obliging mediation with the committee on my behalf, +and which she had framed and glazed. + +"Well, that is beautiful, Miss Jane! It is as fine a picture as any Miss +Reed's drawing-master could paint, let alone the young ladies themselves, +who could not come near it: and have you learnt French?" + +"Yes, Bessie, I can both read it and speak it." + +"And you can work on muslin and canvas?" + +"I can." + +"Oh, you are quite a lady, Miss Jane! I knew you would be: you will get +on whether your relations notice you or not. There was something I +wanted to ask you. Have you ever heard anything from your father's +kinsfolk, the Eyres?" + +"Never in my life." + +"Well, you know Missis always said they were poor and quite despicable: +and they may be poor; but I believe they are as much gentry as the Reeds +are; for one day, nearly seven years ago, a Mr. Eyre came to Gateshead +and wanted to see you; Missis said you were at school fifty miles off; he +seemed so much disappointed, for he could not stay: he was going on a +voyage to a foreign country, and the ship was to sail from London in a +day or two. He looked quite a gentleman, and I believe he was your +father's brother." + +"What foreign country was he going to, Bessie?" + +"An island thousands of miles off, where they make wine--the butler did +tell me--" + +"Madeira?" I suggested. + +"Yes, that is it--that is the very word." + +"So he went?" + +"Yes; he did not stay many minutes in the house: Missis was very high +with him; she called him afterwards a 'sneaking tradesman.' My Robert +believes he was a wine-merchant." + +"Very likely," I returned; "or perhaps clerk or agent to a +wine-merchant." + +Bessie and I conversed about old times an hour longer, and then she was +obliged to leave me: I saw her again for a few minutes the next morning +at Lowton, while I was waiting for the coach. We parted finally at the +door of the Brocklehurst Arms there: each went her separate way; she set +off for the brow of Lowood Fell to meet the conveyance which was to take +her back to Gateshead, I mounted the vehicle which was to bear me to new +duties and a new life in the unknown environs of Millcote. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +A new chapter in a novel is something like a new scene in a play; and +when I draw up the curtain this time, reader, you must fancy you see a +room in the George Inn at Millcote, with such large figured papering on +the walls as inn rooms have; such a carpet, such furniture, such +ornaments on the mantelpiece, such prints, including a portrait of George +the Third, and another of the Prince of Wales, and a representation of +the death of Wolfe. All this is visible to you by the light of an oil +lamp hanging from the ceiling, and by that of an excellent fire, near +which I sit in my cloak and bonnet; my muff and umbrella lie on the +table, and I am warming away the numbness and chill contracted by sixteen +hours' exposure to the rawness of an October day: I left Lowton at four +o'clock a.m., and the Millcote town clock is now just striking eight. + +Reader, though I look comfortably accommodated, I am not very tranquil in +my mind. I thought when the coach stopped here there would be some one +to meet me; I looked anxiously round as I descended the wooden steps the +"boots" placed for my convenience, expecting to hear my name pronounced, +and to see some description of carriage waiting to convey me to +Thornfield. Nothing of the sort was visible; and when I asked a waiter +if any one had been to inquire after a Miss Eyre, I was answered in the +negative: so I had no resource but to request to be shown into a private +room: and here I am waiting, while all sorts of doubts and fears are +troubling my thoughts. + +It is a very strange sensation to inexperienced youth to feel itself +quite alone in the world, cut adrift from every connection, uncertain +whether the port to which it is bound can be reached, and prevented by +many impediments from returning to that it has quitted. The charm of +adventure sweetens that sensation, the glow of pride warms it; but then +the throb of fear disturbs it; and fear with me became predominant when +half-an-hour elapsed and still I was alone. I bethought myself to ring +the bell. + +"Is there a place in this neighbourhood called Thornfield?" I asked of +the waiter who answered the summons. + +"Thornfield? I don't know, ma'am; I'll inquire at the bar." He +vanished, but reappeared instantly-- + +"Is your name Eyre, Miss?" + +"Yes." + +"Person here waiting for you." + +I jumped up, took my muff and umbrella, and hastened into the +inn-passage: a man was standing by the open door, and in the lamp-lit +street I dimly saw a one-horse conveyance. + +"This will be your luggage, I suppose?" said the man rather abruptly when +he saw me, pointing to my trunk in the passage. + +"Yes." He hoisted it on to the vehicle, which was a sort of car, and +then I got in; before he shut me up, I asked him how far it was to +Thornfield. + +"A matter of six miles." + +"How long shall we be before we get there?" + +"Happen an hour and a half." + +He fastened the car door, climbed to his own seat outside, and we set +off. Our progress was leisurely, and gave me ample time to reflect; I +was content to be at length so near the end of my journey; and as I +leaned back in the comfortable though not elegant conveyance, I meditated +much at my ease. + +"I suppose," thought I, "judging from the plainness of the servant and +carriage, Mrs. Fairfax is not a very dashing person: so much the better; +I never lived amongst fine people but once, and I was very miserable with +them. I wonder if she lives alone except this little girl; if so, and if +she is in any degree amiable, I shall surely be able to get on with her; +I will do my best; it is a pity that doing one's best does not always +answer. At Lowood, indeed, I took that resolution, kept it, and +succeeded in pleasing; but with Mrs. Reed, I remember my best was always +spurned with scorn. I pray God Mrs. Fairfax may not turn out a second +Mrs. Reed; but if she does, I am not bound to stay with her! let the +worst come to the worst, I can advertise again. How far are we on our +road now, I wonder?" + +I let down the window and looked out; Millcote was behind us; judging by +the number of its lights, it seemed a place of considerable magnitude, +much larger than Lowton. We were now, as far as I could see, on a sort +of common; but there were houses scattered all over the district; I felt +we were in a different region to Lowood, more populous, less picturesque; +more stirring, less romantic. + +The roads were heavy, the night misty; my conductor let his horse walk +all the way, and the hour and a half extended, I verily believe, to two +hours; at last he turned in his seat and said-- + +"You're noan so far fro' Thornfield now." + +Again I looked out: we were passing a church; I saw its low broad tower +against the sky, and its bell was tolling a quarter; I saw a narrow +galaxy of lights too, on a hillside, marking a village or hamlet. About +ten minutes after, the driver got down and opened a pair of gates: we +passed through, and they clashed to behind us. We now slowly ascended a +drive, and came upon the long front of a house: candlelight gleamed from +one curtained bow-window; all the rest were dark. The car stopped at the +front door; it was opened by a maid-servant; I alighted and went in. + +"Will you walk this way, ma'am?" said the girl; and I followed her across +a square hall with high doors all round: she ushered me into a room whose +double illumination of fire and candle at first dazzled me, contrasting +as it did with the darkness to which my eyes had been for two hours +inured; when I could see, however, a cosy and agreeable picture presented +itself to my view. + +A snug small room; a round table by a cheerful fire; an arm-chair high- +backed and old-fashioned, wherein sat the neatest imaginable little +elderly lady, in widow's cap, black silk gown, and snowy muslin apron; +exactly like what I had fancied Mrs. Fairfax, only less stately and +milder looking. She was occupied in knitting; a large cat sat demurely +at her feet; nothing in short was wanting to complete the beau-ideal of +domestic comfort. A more reassuring introduction for a new governess +could scarcely be conceived; there was no grandeur to overwhelm, no +stateliness to embarrass; and then, as I entered, the old lady got up and +promptly and kindly came forward to meet me. + +"How do you do, my dear? I am afraid you have had a tedious ride; John +drives so slowly; you must be cold, come to the fire." + +"Mrs. Fairfax, I suppose?" said I. + +"Yes, you are right: do sit down." + +She conducted me to her own chair, and then began to remove my shawl and +untie my bonnet-strings; I begged she would not give herself so much +trouble. + +"Oh, it is no trouble; I dare say your own hands are almost numbed with +cold. Leah, make a little hot negus and cut a sandwich or two: here are +the keys of the storeroom." + +And she produced from her pocket a most housewifely bunch of keys, and +delivered them to the servant. + +"Now, then, draw nearer to the fire," she continued. "You've brought +your luggage with you, haven't you, my dear?" + +"Yes, ma'am." + +"I'll see it carried into your room," she said, and bustled out. + +"She treats me like a visitor," thought I. "I little expected such a +reception; I anticipated only coldness and stiffness: this is not like +what I have heard of the treatment of governesses; but I must not exult +too soon." + +She returned; with her own hands cleared her knitting apparatus and a +book or two from the table, to make room for the tray which Leah now +brought, and then herself handed me the refreshments. I felt rather +confused at being the object of more attention than I had ever before +received, and, that too, shown by my employer and superior; but as she +did not herself seem to consider she was doing anything out of her place, +I thought it better to take her civilities quietly. + +"Shall I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairfax to-night?" I asked, +when I had partaken of what she offered me. + +"What did you say, my dear? I am a little deaf," returned the good lady, +approaching her ear to my mouth. + +I repeated the question more distinctly. + +"Miss Fairfax? Oh, you mean Miss Varens! Varens is the name of your +future pupil." + +"Indeed! Then she is not your daughter?" + +"No,--I have no family." + +I should have followed up my first inquiry, by asking in what way Miss +Varens was connected with her; but I recollected it was not polite to ask +too many questions: besides, I was sure to hear in time. + +"I am so glad," she continued, as she sat down opposite to me, and took +the cat on her knee; "I am so glad you are come; it will be quite +pleasant living here now with a companion. To be sure it is pleasant at +any time; for Thornfield is a fine old hall, rather neglected of late +years perhaps, but still it is a respectable place; yet you know in +winter-time one feels dreary quite alone in the best quarters. I say +alone--Leah is a nice girl to be sure, and John and his wife are very +decent people; but then you see they are only servants, and one can't +converse with them on terms of equality: one must keep them at due +distance, for fear of losing one's authority. I'm sure last winter (it +was a very severe one, if you recollect, and when it did not snow, it +rained and blew), not a creature but the butcher and postman came to the +house, from November till February; and I really got quite melancholy +with sitting night after night alone; I had Leah in to read to me +sometimes; but I don't think the poor girl liked the task much: she felt +it confining. In spring and summer one got on better: sunshine and long +days make such a difference; and then, just at the commencement of this +autumn, little Adela Varens came and her nurse: a child makes a house +alive all at once; and now you are here I shall be quite gay." + +My heart really warmed to the worthy lady as I heard her talk; and I drew +my chair a little nearer to her, and expressed my sincere wish that she +might find my company as agreeable as she anticipated. + +"But I'll not keep you sitting up late to-night," said she; "it is on the +stroke of twelve now, and you have been travelling all day: you must feel +tired. If you have got your feet well warmed, I'll show you your +bedroom. I've had the room next to mine prepared for you; it is only a +small apartment, but I thought you would like it better than one of the +large front chambers: to be sure they have finer furniture, but they are +so dreary and solitary, I never sleep in them myself." + +I thanked her for her considerate choice, and as I really felt fatigued +with my long journey, expressed my readiness to retire. She took her +candle, and I followed her from the room. First she went to see if the +hall-door was fastened; having taken the key from the lock, she led the +way upstairs. The steps and banisters were of oak; the staircase window +was high and latticed; both it and the long gallery into which the +bedroom doors opened looked as if they belonged to a church rather than a +house. A very chill and vault-like air pervaded the stairs and gallery, +suggesting cheerless ideas of space and solitude; and I was glad, when +finally ushered into my chamber, to find it of small dimensions, and +furnished in ordinary, modern style. + +When Mrs. Fairfax had bidden me a kind good-night, and I had fastened my +door, gazed leisurely round, and in some measure effaced the eerie +impression made by that wide hall, that dark and spacious staircase, and +that long, cold gallery, by the livelier aspect of my little room, I +remembered that, after a day of bodily fatigue and mental anxiety, I was +now at last in safe haven. The impulse of gratitude swelled my heart, +and I knelt down at the bedside, and offered up thanks where thanks were +due; not forgetting, ere I rose, to implore aid on my further path, and +the power of meriting the kindness which seemed so frankly offered me +before it was earned. My couch had no thorns in it that night; my +solitary room no fears. At once weary and content, I slept soon and +soundly: when I awoke it was broad day. + +The chamber looked such a bright little place to me as the sun shone in +between the gay blue chintz window curtains, showing papered walls and a +carpeted floor, so unlike the bare planks and stained plaster of Lowood, +that my spirits rose at the view. Externals have a great effect on the +young: I thought that a fairer era of life was beginning for me, one that +was to have its flowers and pleasures, as well as its thorns and toils. +My faculties, roused by the change of scene, the new field offered to +hope, seemed all astir. I cannot precisely define what they expected, +but it was something pleasant: not perhaps that day or that month, but at +an indefinite future period. + +I rose; I dressed myself with care: obliged to be plain--for I had no +article of attire that was not made with extreme simplicity--I was still +by nature solicitous to be neat. It was not my habit to be disregardful +of appearance or careless of the impression I made: on the contrary, I +ever wished to look as well as I could, and to please as much as my want +of beauty would permit. I sometimes regretted that I was not handsomer; +I sometimes wished to have rosy cheeks, a straight nose, and small cherry +mouth; I desired to be tall, stately, and finely developed in figure; I +felt it a misfortune that I was so little, so pale, and had features so +irregular and so marked. And why had I these aspirations and these +regrets? It would be difficult to say: I could not then distinctly say +it to myself; yet I had a reason, and a logical, natural reason too. +However, when I had brushed my hair very smooth, and put on my black +frock--which, Quakerlike as it was, at least had the merit of fitting to +a nicety--and adjusted my clean white tucker, I thought I should do +respectably enough to appear before Mrs. Fairfax, and that my new pupil +would not at least recoil from me with antipathy. Having opened my +chamber window, and seen that I left all things straight and neat on the +toilet table, I ventured forth. + +Traversing the long and matted gallery, I descended the slippery steps of +oak; then I gained the hall: I halted there a minute; I looked at some +pictures on the walls (one, I remember, represented a grim man in a +cuirass, and one a lady with powdered hair and a pearl necklace), at a +bronze lamp pendent from the ceiling, at a great clock whose case was of +oak curiously carved, and ebon black with time and rubbing. Everything +appeared very stately and imposing to me; but then I was so little +accustomed to grandeur. The hall-door, which was half of glass, stood +open; I stepped over the threshold. It was a fine autumn morning; the +early sun shone serenely on embrowned groves and still green fields; +advancing on to the lawn, I looked up and surveyed the front of the +mansion. It was three storeys high, of proportions not vast, though +considerable: a gentleman's manor-house, not a nobleman's seat: +battlements round the top gave it a picturesque look. Its grey front +stood out well from the background of a rookery, whose cawing tenants +were now on the wing: they flew over the lawn and grounds to alight in a +great meadow, from which these were separated by a sunk fence, and where +an array of mighty old thorn trees, strong, knotty, and broad as oaks, at +once explained the etymology of the mansion's designation. Farther off +were hills: not so lofty as those round Lowood, nor so craggy, nor so +like barriers of separation from the living world; but yet quiet and +lonely hills enough, and seeming to embrace Thornfield with a seclusion I +had not expected to find existent so near the stirring locality of +Millcote. A little hamlet, whose roofs were blent with trees, straggled +up the side of one of these hills; the church of the district stood +nearer Thornfield: its old tower-top looked over a knoll between the +house and gates. + +I was yet enjoying the calm prospect and pleasant fresh air, yet +listening with delight to the cawing of the rooks, yet surveying the +wide, hoary front of the hall, and thinking what a great place it was for +one lonely little dame like Mrs. Fairfax to inhabit, when that lady +appeared at the door. + +"What! out already?" said she. "I see you are an early riser." I went +up to her, and was received with an affable kiss and shake of the hand. + +"How do you like Thornfield?" she asked. I told her I liked it very +much. + +"Yes," she said, "it is a pretty place; but I fear it will be getting out +of order, unless Mr. Rochester should take it into his head to come and +reside here permanently; or, at least, visit it rather oftener: great +houses and fine grounds require the presence of the proprietor." + +"Mr. Rochester!" I exclaimed. "Who is he?" + +"The owner of Thornfield," she responded quietly. "Did you not know he +was called Rochester?" + +Of course I did not--I had never heard of him before; but the old lady +seemed to regard his existence as a universally understood fact, with +which everybody must be acquainted by instinct. + +"I thought," I continued, "Thornfield belonged to you." + +"To me? Bless you, child; what an idea! To me! I am only the +housekeeper--the manager. To be sure I am distantly related to the +Rochesters by the mother's side, or at least my husband was; he was a +clergyman, incumbent of Hay--that little village yonder on the hill--and +that church near the gates was his. The present Mr. Rochester's mother +was a Fairfax, and second cousin to my husband: but I never presume on +the connection--in fact, it is nothing to me; I consider myself quite in +the light of an ordinary housekeeper: my employer is always civil, and I +expect nothing more." + +"And the little girl--my pupil!" + +"She is Mr. Rochester's ward; he commissioned me to find a governess for +her. He intended to have her brought up in ---shire, I believe. Here +she comes, with her 'bonne,' as she calls her nurse." The enigma then +was explained: this affable and kind little widow was no great dame; but +a dependant like myself. I did not like her the worse for that; on the +contrary, I felt better pleased than ever. The equality between her and +me was real; not the mere result of condescension on her part: so much +the better--my position was all the freer. + +As I was meditating on this discovery, a little girl, followed by her +attendant, came running up the lawn. I looked at my pupil, who did not +at first appear to notice me: she was quite a child, perhaps seven or +eight years old, slightly built, with a pale, small-featured face, and a +redundancy of hair falling in curls to her waist. + +"Good morning, Miss Adela," said Mrs. Fairfax. "Come and speak to the +lady who is to teach you, and to make you a clever woman some day." She +approached. + +"C'est la ma gouverante!" said she, pointing to me, and addressing her +nurse; who answered-- + +"Mais oui, certainement." + +"Are they foreigners?" I inquired, amazed at hearing the French language. + +"The nurse is a foreigner, and Adela was born on the Continent; and, I +believe, never left it till within six months ago. When she first came +here she could speak no English; now she can make shift to talk it a +little: I don't understand her, she mixes it so with French; but you will +make out her meaning very well, I dare say." + +Fortunately I had had the advantage of being taught French by a French +lady; and as I had always made a point of conversing with Madame Pierrot +as often as I could, and had besides, during the last seven years, learnt +a portion of French by heart daily--applying myself to take pains with my +accent, and imitating as closely as possible the pronunciation of my +teacher, I had acquired a certain degree of readiness and correctness in +the language, and was not likely to be much at a loss with Mademoiselle +Adela. She came and shook hand with me when she heard that I was her +governess; and as I led her in to breakfast, I addressed some phrases to +her in her own tongue: she replied briefly at first, but after we were +seated at the table, and she had examined me some ten minutes with her +large hazel eyes, she suddenly commenced chattering fluently. + +"Ah!" cried she, in French, "you speak my language as well as Mr. +Rochester does: I can talk to you as I can to him, and so can Sophie. She +will be glad: nobody here understands her: Madame Fairfax is all English. +Sophie is my nurse; she came with me over the sea in a great ship with a +chimney that smoked--how it did smoke!--and I was sick, and so was +Sophie, and so was Mr. Rochester. Mr. Rochester lay down on a sofa in a +pretty room called the salon, and Sophie and I had little beds in another +place. I nearly fell out of mine; it was like a shelf. And +Mademoiselle--what is your name?" + +"Eyre--Jane Eyre." + +"Aire? Bah! I cannot say it. Well, our ship stopped in the morning, +before it was quite daylight, at a great city--a huge city, with very +dark houses and all smoky; not at all like the pretty clean town I came +from; and Mr. Rochester carried me in his arms over a plank to the land, +and Sophie came after, and we all got into a coach, which took us to a +beautiful large house, larger than this and finer, called an hotel. We +stayed there nearly a week: I and Sophie used to walk every day in a +great green place full of trees, called the Park; and there were many +children there besides me, and a pond with beautiful birds in it, that I +fed with crumbs." + +"Can you understand her when she runs on so fast?" asked Mrs. Fairfax. + +I understood her very well, for I had been accustomed to the fluent +tongue of Madame Pierrot. + +"I wish," continued the good lady, "you would ask her a question or two +about her parents: I wonder if she remembers them?" + +"Adele," I inquired, "with whom did you live when you were in that pretty +clean town you spoke of?" + +"I lived long ago with mama; but she is gone to the Holy Virgin. Mama +used to teach me to dance and sing, and to say verses. A great many +gentlemen and ladies came to see mama, and I used to dance before them, +or to sit on their knees and sing to them: I liked it. Shall I let you +hear me sing now?" + +She had finished her breakfast, so I permitted her to give a specimen of +her accomplishments. Descending from her chair, she came and placed +herself on my knee; then, folding her little hands demurely before her, +shaking back her curls and lifting her eyes to the ceiling, she commenced +singing a song from some opera. It was the strain of a forsaken lady, +who, after bewailing the perfidy of her lover, calls pride to her aid; +desires her attendant to deck her in her brightest jewels and richest +robes, and resolves to meet the false one that night at a ball, and prove +to him, by the gaiety of her demeanour, how little his desertion has +affected her. + +The subject seemed strangely chosen for an infant singer; but I suppose +the point of the exhibition lay in hearing the notes of love and jealousy +warbled with the lisp of childhood; and in very bad taste that point was: +at least I thought so. + +Adele sang the canzonette tunefully enough, and with the _naivete_ of her +age. This achieved, she jumped from my knee and said, "Now, +Mademoiselle, I will repeat you some poetry." + +Assuming an attitude, she began, "La Ligue des Rats: fable de La +Fontaine." She then declaimed the little piece with an attention to +punctuation and emphasis, a flexibility of voice and an appropriateness +of gesture, very unusual indeed at her age, and which proved she had been +carefully trained. + +"Was it your mama who taught you that piece?" I asked. + +"Yes, and she just used to say it in this way: 'Qu' avez vous donc? lui +dit un de ces rats; parlez!' She made me lift my hand--so--to remind me +to raise my voice at the question. Now shall I dance for you?" + +"No, that will do: but after your mama went to the Holy Virgin, as you +say, with whom did you live then?" + +"With Madame Frederic and her husband: she took care of me, but she is +nothing related to me. I think she is poor, for she had not so fine a +house as mama. I was not long there. Mr. Rochester asked me if I would +like to go and live with him in England, and I said yes; for I knew Mr. +Rochester before I knew Madame Frederic, and he was always kind to me and +gave me pretty dresses and toys: but you see he has not kept his word, +for he has brought me to England, and now he is gone back again himself, +and I never see him." + +After breakfast, Adele and I withdrew to the library, which room, it +appears, Mr. Rochester had directed should be used as the schoolroom. +Most of the books were locked up behind glass doors; but there was one +bookcase left open containing everything that could be needed in the way +of elementary works, and several volumes of light literature, poetry, +biography, travels, a few romances, &c. I suppose he had considered that +these were all the governess would require for her private perusal; and, +indeed, they contented me amply for the present; compared with the scanty +pickings I had now and then been able to glean at Lowood, they seemed to +offer an abundant harvest of entertainment and information. In this +room, too, there was a cabinet piano, quite new and of superior tone; +also an easel for painting and a pair of globes. + +I found my pupil sufficiently docile, though disinclined to apply: she +had not been used to regular occupation of any kind. I felt it would be +injudicious to confine her too much at first; so, when I had talked to +her a great deal, and got her to learn a little, and when the morning had +advanced to noon, I allowed her to return to her nurse. I then proposed +to occupy myself till dinner-time in drawing some little sketches for her +use. + +As I was going upstairs to fetch my portfolio and pencils, Mrs. Fairfax +called to me: "Your morning school-hours are over now, I suppose," said +she. She was in a room the folding-doors of which stood open: I went in +when she addressed me. It was a large, stately apartment, with purple +chairs and curtains, a Turkey carpet, walnut-panelled walls, one vast +window rich in slanted glass, and a lofty ceiling, nobly moulded. Mrs. +Fairfax was dusting some vases of fine purple spar, which stood on a +sideboard. + +"What a beautiful room!" I exclaimed, as I looked round; for I had never +before seen any half so imposing. + +"Yes; this is the dining-room. I have just opened the window, to let in +a little air and sunshine; for everything gets so damp in apartments that +are seldom inhabited; the drawing-room yonder feels like a vault." + +She pointed to a wide arch corresponding to the window, and hung like it +with a Tyrian-dyed curtain, now looped up. Mounting to it by two broad +steps, and looking through, I thought I caught a glimpse of a fairy +place, so bright to my novice-eyes appeared the view beyond. Yet it was +merely a very pretty drawing-room, and within it a boudoir, both spread +with white carpets, on which seemed laid brilliant garlands of flowers; +both ceiled with snowy mouldings of white grapes and vine-leaves, beneath +which glowed in rich contrast crimson couches and ottomans; while the +ornaments on the pale Parian mantelpiece were of sparkling Bohemian +glass, ruby red; and between the windows large mirrors repeated the +general blending of snow and fire. + +"In what order you keep these rooms, Mrs. Fairfax!" said I. "No dust, no +canvas coverings: except that the air feels chilly, one would think they +were inhabited daily." + +"Why, Miss Eyre, though Mr. Rochester's visits here are rare, they are +always sudden and unexpected; and as I observed that it put him out to +find everything swathed up, and to have a bustle of arrangement on his +arrival, I thought it best to keep the rooms in readiness." + +"Is Mr. Rochester an exacting, fastidious sort of man?" + +"Not particularly so; but he has a gentleman's tastes and habits, and he +expects to have things managed in conformity to them." + +"Do you like him? Is he generally liked?" + +"Oh, yes; the family have always been respected here. Almost all the +land in this neighbourhood, as far as you can see, has belonged to the +Rochesters time out of mind." + +"Well, but, leaving his land out of the question, do you like him? Is he +liked for himself?" + +"I have no cause to do otherwise than like him; and I believe he is +considered a just and liberal landlord by his tenants: but he has never +lived much amongst them." + +"But has he no peculiarities? What, in short, is his character?" + +"Oh! his character is unimpeachable, I suppose. He is rather peculiar, +perhaps: he has travelled a great deal, and seen a great deal of the +world, I should think. I dare say he is clever, but I never had much +conversation with him." + +"In what way is he peculiar?" + +"I don't know--it is not easy to describe--nothing striking, but you feel +it when he speaks to you; you cannot be always sure whether he is in jest +or earnest, whether he is pleased or the contrary; you don't thoroughly +understand him, in short--at least, I don't: but it is of no consequence, +he is a very good master." + +This was all the account I got from Mrs. Fairfax of her employer and +mine. There are people who seem to have no notion of sketching a +character, or observing and describing salient points, either in persons +or things: the good lady evidently belonged to this class; my queries +puzzled, but did not draw her out. Mr. Rochester was Mr. Rochester in +her eyes; a gentleman, a landed proprietor--nothing more: she inquired +and searched no further, and evidently wondered at my wish to gain a more +definite notion of his identity. + +When we left the dining-room, she proposed to show me over the rest of +the house; and I followed her upstairs and downstairs, admiring as I +went; for all was well arranged and handsome. The large front chambers I +thought especially grand: and some of the third-storey rooms, though dark +and low, were interesting from their air of antiquity. The furniture +once appropriated to the lower apartments had from time to time been +removed here, as fashions changed: and the imperfect light entering by +their narrow casement showed bedsteads of a hundred years old; chests in +oak or walnut, looking, with their strange carvings of palm branches and +cherubs' heads, like types of the Hebrew ark; rows of venerable chairs, +high-backed and narrow; stools still more antiquated, on whose cushioned +tops were yet apparent traces of half-effaced embroideries, wrought by +fingers that for two generations had been coffin-dust. All these relics +gave to the third storey of Thornfield Hall the aspect of a home of the +past: a shrine of memory. I liked the hush, the gloom, the quaintness of +these retreats in the day; but I by no means coveted a night's repose on +one of those wide and heavy beds: shut in, some of them, with doors of +oak; shaded, others, with wrought old English hangings crusted with thick +work, portraying effigies of strange flowers, and stranger birds, and +strangest human beings,--all which would have looked strange, indeed, by +the pallid gleam of moonlight. + +"Do the servants sleep in these rooms?" I asked. + +"No; they occupy a range of smaller apartments to the back; no one ever +sleeps here: one would almost say that, if there were a ghost at +Thornfield Hall, this would be its haunt." + +"So I think: you have no ghost, then?" + +"None that I ever heard of," returned Mrs. Fairfax, smiling. + +"Nor any traditions of one? no legends or ghost stories?" + +"I believe not. And yet it is said the Rochesters have been rather a +violent than a quiet race in their time: perhaps, though, that is the +reason they rest tranquilly in their graves now." + +"Yes--'after life's fitful fever they sleep well,'" I muttered. "Where +are you going now, Mrs. Fairfax?" for she was moving away. + +"On to the leads; will you come and see the view from thence?" I +followed still, up a very narrow staircase to the attics, and thence by a +ladder and through a trap-door to the roof of the hall. I was now on a +level with the crow colony, and could see into their nests. Leaning over +the battlements and looking far down, I surveyed the grounds laid out +like a map: the bright and velvet lawn closely girdling the grey base of +the mansion; the field, wide as a park, dotted with its ancient timber; +the wood, dun and sere, divided by a path visibly overgrown, greener with +moss than the trees were with foliage; the church at the gates, the road, +the tranquil hills, all reposing in the autumn day's sun; the horizon +bounded by a propitious sky, azure, marbled with pearly white. No +feature in the scene was extraordinary, but all was pleasing. When I +turned from it and repassed the trap-door, I could scarcely see my way +down the ladder; the attic seemed black as a vault compared with that +arch of blue air to which I had been looking up, and to that sunlit scene +of grove, pasture, and green hill, of which the hall was the centre, and +over which I had been gazing with delight. + +Mrs. Fairfax stayed behind a moment to fasten the trap-door; I, by drift +of groping, found the outlet from the attic, and proceeded to descend the +narrow garret staircase. I lingered in the long passage to which this +led, separating the front and back rooms of the third storey: narrow, +low, and dim, with only one little window at the far end, and looking, +with its two rows of small black doors all shut, like a corridor in some +Bluebeard's castle. + +While I paced softly on, the last sound I expected to hear in so still a +region, a laugh, struck my ear. It was a curious laugh; distinct, +formal, mirthless. I stopped: the sound ceased, only for an instant; it +began again, louder: for at first, though distinct, it was very low. It +passed off in a clamorous peal that seemed to wake an echo in every +lonely chamber; though it originated but in one, and I could have pointed +out the door whence the accents issued. + +"Mrs. Fairfax!" I called out: for I now heard her descending the great +stairs. "Did you hear that loud laugh? Who is it?" + +"Some of the servants, very likely," she answered: "perhaps Grace Poole." + +"Did you hear it?" I again inquired. + +"Yes, plainly: I often hear her: she sews in one of these rooms. +Sometimes Leah is with her; they are frequently noisy together." + +The laugh was repeated in its low, syllabic tone, and terminated in an +odd murmur. + +"Grace!" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax. + +I really did not expect any Grace to answer; for the laugh was as tragic, +as preternatural a laugh as any I ever heard; and, but that it was high +noon, and that no circumstance of ghostliness accompanied the curious +cachinnation; but that neither scene nor season favoured fear, I should +have been superstitiously afraid. However, the event showed me I was a +fool for entertaining a sense even of surprise. + +The door nearest me opened, and a servant came out,--a woman of between +thirty and forty; a set, square-made figure, red-haired, and with a hard, +plain face: any apparition less romantic or less ghostly could scarcely +be conceived. + +"Too much noise, Grace," said Mrs. Fairfax. "Remember directions!" Grace +curtseyed silently and went in. + +"She is a person we have to sew and assist Leah in her housemaid's work," +continued the widow; "not altogether unobjectionable in some points, but +she does well enough. By-the-bye, how have you got on with your new +pupil this morning?" + +The conversation, thus turned on Adele, continued till we reached the +light and cheerful region below. Adele came running to meet us in the +hall, exclaiming-- + +"Mesdames, vous etes servies!" adding, "J'ai bien faim, moi!" + +We found dinner ready, and waiting for us in Mrs. Fairfax's room. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The promise of a smooth career, which my first calm introduction to +Thornfield Hall seemed to pledge, was not belied on a longer acquaintance +with the place and its inmates. Mrs. Fairfax turned out to be what she +appeared, a placid-tempered, kind-natured woman, of competent education +and average intelligence. My pupil was a lively child, who had been +spoilt and indulged, and therefore was sometimes wayward; but as she was +committed entirely to my care, and no injudicious interference from any +quarter ever thwarted my plans for her improvement, she soon forgot her +little freaks, and became obedient and teachable. She had no great +talents, no marked traits of character, no peculiar development of +feeling or taste which raised her one inch above the ordinary level of +childhood; but neither had she any deficiency or vice which sunk her +below it. She made reasonable progress, entertained for me a vivacious, +though perhaps not very profound, affection; and by her simplicity, gay +prattle, and efforts to please, inspired me, in return, with a degree of +attachment sufficient to make us both content in each other's society. + +This, _par parenthese_, will be thought cool language by persons who +entertain solemn doctrines about the angelic nature of children, and the +duty of those charged with their education to conceive for them an +idolatrous devotion: but I am not writing to flatter parental egotism, to +echo cant, or prop up humbug; I am merely telling the truth. I felt a +conscientious solicitude for Adele's welfare and progress, and a quiet +liking for her little self: just as I cherished towards Mrs. Fairfax a +thankfulness for her kindness, and a pleasure in her society +proportionate to the tranquil regard she had for me, and the moderation +of her mind and character. + +Anybody may blame me who likes, when I add further, that, now and then, +when I took a walk by myself in the grounds; when I went down to the +gates and looked through them along the road; or when, while Adele played +with her nurse, and Mrs. Fairfax made jellies in the storeroom, I climbed +the three staircases, raised the trap-door of the attic, and having +reached the leads, looked out afar over sequestered field and hill, and +along dim sky-line--that then I longed for a power of vision which might +overpass that limit; which might reach the busy world, towns, regions +full of life I had heard of but never seen--that then I desired more of +practical experience than I possessed; more of intercourse with my kind, +of acquaintance with variety of character, than was here within my reach. +I valued what was good in Mrs. Fairfax, and what was good in Adele; but I +believed in the existence of other and more vivid kinds of goodness, and +what I believed in I wished to behold. + +Who blames me? Many, no doubt; and I shall be called discontented. I +could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature; it agitated me to +pain sometimes. Then my sole relief was to walk along the corridor of +the third storey, backwards and forwards, safe in the silence and +solitude of the spot, and allow my mind's eye to dwell on whatever bright +visions rose before it--and, certainly, they were many and glowing; to +let my heart be heaved by the exultant movement, which, while it swelled +it in trouble, expanded it with life; and, best of all, to open my inward +ear to a tale that was never ended--a tale my imagination created, and +narrated continuously; quickened with all of incident, life, fire, +feeling, that I desired and had not in my actual existence. + +It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with +tranquillity: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot +find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and +millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many +rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life +which people earth. Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but +women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and +a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from +too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would +suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures +to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and +knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is +thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or +learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex. + +When thus alone, I not unfrequently heard Grace Poole's laugh: the same +peal, the same low, slow ha! ha! which, when first heard, had thrilled +me: I heard, too, her eccentric murmurs; stranger than her laugh. There +were days when she was quite silent; but there were others when I could +not account for the sounds she made. Sometimes I saw her: she would come +out of her room with a basin, or a plate, or a tray in her hand, go down +to the kitchen and shortly return, generally (oh, romantic reader, +forgive me for telling the plain truth!) bearing a pot of porter. Her +appearance always acted as a damper to the curiosity raised by her oral +oddities: hard-featured and staid, she had no point to which interest +could attach. I made some attempts to draw her into conversation, but +she seemed a person of few words: a monosyllabic reply usually cut short +every effort of that sort. + +The other members of the household, viz., John and his wife, Leah the +housemaid, and Sophie the French nurse, were decent people; but in no +respect remarkable; with Sophie I used to talk French, and sometimes I +asked her questions about her native country; but she was not of a +descriptive or narrative turn, and generally gave such vapid and confused +answers as were calculated rather to check than encourage inquiry. + +October, November, December passed away. One afternoon in January, Mrs. +Fairfax had begged a holiday for Adele, because she had a cold; and, as +Adele seconded the request with an ardour that reminded me how precious +occasional holidays had been to me in my own childhood, I accorded it, +deeming that I did well in showing pliability on the point. It was a +fine, calm day, though very cold; I was tired of sitting still in the +library through a whole long morning: Mrs. Fairfax had just written a +letter which was waiting to be posted, so I put on my bonnet and cloak +and volunteered to carry it to Hay; the distance, two miles, would be a +pleasant winter afternoon walk. Having seen Adele comfortably seated in +her little chair by Mrs. Fairfax's parlour fireside, and given her her +best wax doll (which I usually kept enveloped in silver paper in a +drawer) to play with, and a story-book for change of amusement; and +having replied to her "Revenez bientot, ma bonne amie, ma chere Mdlle. +Jeannette," with a kiss I set out. + +The ground was hard, the air was still, my road was lonely; I walked fast +till I got warm, and then I walked slowly to enjoy and analyse the +species of pleasure brooding for me in the hour and situation. It was +three o'clock; the church bell tolled as I passed under the belfry: the +charm of the hour lay in its approaching dimness, in the low-gliding and +pale-beaming sun. I was a mile from Thornfield, in a lane noted for wild +roses in summer, for nuts and blackberries in autumn, and even now +possessing a few coral treasures in hips and haws, but whose best winter +delight lay in its utter solitude and leafless repose. If a breath of +air stirred, it made no sound here; for there was not a holly, not an +evergreen to rustle, and the stripped hawthorn and hazel bushes were as +still as the white, worn stones which causewayed the middle of the path. +Far and wide, on each side, there were only fields, where no cattle now +browsed; and the little brown birds, which stirred occasionally in the +hedge, looked like single russet leaves that had forgotten to drop. + +This lane inclined up-hill all the way to Hay; having reached the middle, +I sat down on a stile which led thence into a field. Gathering my mantle +about me, and sheltering my hands in my muff, I did not feel the cold, +though it froze keenly; as was attested by a sheet of ice covering the +causeway, where a little brooklet, now congealed, had overflowed after a +rapid thaw some days since. From my seat I could look down on +Thornfield: the grey and battlemented hall was the principal object in +the vale below me; its woods and dark rookery rose against the west. I +lingered till the sun went down amongst the trees, and sank crimson and +clear behind them. I then turned eastward. + +On the hill-top above me sat the rising moon; pale yet as a cloud, but +brightening momentarily, she looked over Hay, which, half lost in trees, +sent up a blue smoke from its few chimneys: it was yet a mile distant, +but in the absolute hush I could hear plainly its thin murmurs of life. +My ear, too, felt the flow of currents; in what dales and depths I could +not tell: but there were many hills beyond Hay, and doubtless many becks +threading their passes. That evening calm betrayed alike the tinkle of +the nearest streams, the sough of the most remote. + +A rude noise broke on these fine ripplings and whisperings, at once so +far away and so clear: a positive tramp, tramp, a metallic clatter, which +effaced the soft wave-wanderings; as, in a picture, the solid mass of a +crag, or the rough boles of a great oak, drawn in dark and strong on the +foreground, efface the aerial distance of azure hill, sunny horizon, and +blended clouds where tint melts into tint. + +The din was on the causeway: a horse was coming; the windings of the lane +yet hid it, but it approached. I was just leaving the stile; yet, as the +path was narrow, I sat still to let it go by. In those days I was young, +and all sorts of fancies bright and dark tenanted my mind: the memories +of nursery stories were there amongst other rubbish; and when they +recurred, maturing youth added to them a vigour and vividness beyond what +childhood could give. As this horse approached, and as I watched for it +to appear through the dusk, I remembered certain of Bessie's tales, +wherein figured a North-of-England spirit called a "Gytrash," which, in +the form of horse, mule, or large dog, haunted solitary ways, and +sometimes came upon belated travellers, as this horse was now coming upon +me. + +It was very near, but not yet in sight; when, in addition to the tramp, +tramp, I heard a rush under the hedge, and close down by the hazel stems +glided a great dog, whose black and white colour made him a distinct +object against the trees. It was exactly one form of Bessie's Gytrash--a +lion-like creature with long hair and a huge head: it passed me, however, +quietly enough; not staying to look up, with strange pretercanine eyes, +in my face, as I half expected it would. The horse followed,--a tall +steed, and on its back a rider. The man, the human being, broke the +spell at once. Nothing ever rode the Gytrash: it was always alone; and +goblins, to my notions, though they might tenant the dumb carcasses of +beasts, could scarce covet shelter in the commonplace human form. No +Gytrash was this,--only a traveller taking the short cut to Millcote. He +passed, and I went on; a few steps, and I turned: a sliding sound and an +exclamation of "What the deuce is to do now?" and a clattering tumble, +arrested my attention. Man and horse were down; they had slipped on the +sheet of ice which glazed the causeway. The dog came bounding back, and +seeing his master in a predicament, and hearing the horse groan, barked +till the evening hills echoed the sound, which was deep in proportion to +his magnitude. He snuffed round the prostrate group, and then he ran up +to me; it was all he could do,--there was no other help at hand to +summon. I obeyed him, and walked down to the traveller, by this time +struggling himself free of his steed. His efforts were so vigorous, I +thought he could not be much hurt; but I asked him the question-- + +"Are you injured, sir?" + +I think he was swearing, but am not certain; however, he was pronouncing +some formula which prevented him from replying to me directly. + +"Can I do anything?" I asked again. + +"You must just stand on one side," he answered as he rose, first to his +knees, and then to his feet. I did; whereupon began a heaving, stamping, +clattering process, accompanied by a barking and baying which removed me +effectually some yards' distance; but I would not be driven quite away +till I saw the event. This was finally fortunate; the horse was +re-established, and the dog was silenced with a "Down, Pilot!" The +traveller now, stooping, felt his foot and leg, as if trying whether they +were sound; apparently something ailed them, for he halted to the stile +whence I had just risen, and sat down. + +I was in the mood for being useful, or at least officious, I think, for I +now drew near him again. + +"If you are hurt, and want help, sir, I can fetch some one either from +Thornfield Hall or from Hay." + +"Thank you: I shall do: I have no broken bones,--only a sprain;" and +again he stood up and tried his foot, but the result extorted an +involuntary "Ugh!" + +Something of daylight still lingered, and the moon was waxing bright: I +could see him plainly. His figure was enveloped in a riding cloak, fur +collared and steel clasped; its details were not apparent, but I traced +the general points of middle height and considerable breadth of chest. He +had a dark face, with stern features and a heavy brow; his eyes and +gathered eyebrows looked ireful and thwarted just now; he was past youth, +but had not reached middle-age; perhaps he might be thirty-five. I felt +no fear of him, and but little shyness. Had he been a handsome, heroic- +looking young gentleman, I should not have dared to stand thus +questioning him against his will, and offering my services unasked. I +had hardly ever seen a handsome youth; never in my life spoken to one. I +had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, +fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, +I should have known instinctively that they neither had nor could have +sympathy with anything in me, and should have shunned them as one would +fire, lightning, or anything else that is bright but antipathetic. + +If even this stranger had smiled and been good-humoured to me when I +addressed him; if he had put off my offer of assistance gaily and with +thanks, I should have gone on my way and not felt any vocation to renew +inquiries: but the frown, the roughness of the traveller, set me at my +ease: I retained my station when he waved to me to go, and announced-- + +"I cannot think of leaving you, sir, at so late an hour, in this solitary +lane, till I see you are fit to mount your horse." + +He looked at me when I said this; he had hardly turned his eyes in my +direction before. + +"I should think you ought to be at home yourself," said he, "if you have +a home in this neighbourhood: where do you come from?" + +"From just below; and I am not at all afraid of being out late when it is +moonlight: I will run over to Hay for you with pleasure, if you wish it: +indeed, I am going there to post a letter." + +"You live just below--do you mean at that house with the battlements?" +pointing to Thornfield Hall, on which the moon cast a hoary gleam, +bringing it out distinct and pale from the woods that, by contrast with +the western sky, now seemed one mass of shadow. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Whose house is it?" + +"Mr. Rochester's." + +"Do you know Mr. Rochester?" + +"No, I have never seen him." + +"He is not resident, then?" + +"No." + +"Can you tell me where he is?" + +"I cannot." + +"You are not a servant at the hall, of course. You are--" He stopped, +ran his eye over my dress, which, as usual, was quite simple: a black +merino cloak, a black beaver bonnet; neither of them half fine enough for +a lady's-maid. He seemed puzzled to decide what I was; I helped him. + +"I am the governess." + +"Ah, the governess!" he repeated; "deuce take me, if I had not forgotten! +The governess!" and again my raiment underwent scrutiny. In two minutes +he rose from the stile: his face expressed pain when he tried to move. + +"I cannot commission you to fetch help," he said; "but you may help me a +little yourself, if you will be so kind." + +"Yes, sir." + +"You have not an umbrella that I can use as a stick?" + +"No." + +"Try to get hold of my horse's bridle and lead him to me: you are not +afraid?" + +I should have been afraid to touch a horse when alone, but when told to +do it, I was disposed to obey. I put down my muff on the stile, and went +up to the tall steed; I endeavoured to catch the bridle, but it was a +spirited thing, and would not let me come near its head; I made effort on +effort, though in vain: meantime, I was mortally afraid of its trampling +fore-feet. The traveller waited and watched for some time, and at last +he laughed. + +{I was mortally afraid of its trampling forefeet: p107.jpg} + +"I see," he said, "the mountain will never be brought to Mahomet, so all +you can do is to aid Mahomet to go to the mountain; I must beg of you to +come here." + +I came. "Excuse me," he continued: "necessity compels me to make you +useful." He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and leaning on me with +some stress, limped to his horse. Having once caught the bridle, he +mastered it directly and sprang to his saddle; grimacing grimly as he +made the effort, for it wrenched his sprain. + +"Now," said he, releasing his under lip from a hard bite, "just hand me +my whip; it lies there under the hedge." + +I sought it and found it. + +"Thank you; now make haste with the letter to Hay, and return as fast as +you can." + +A touch of a spurred heel made his horse first start and rear, and then +bound away; the dog rushed in his traces; all three vanished, + + "Like heath that, in the wilderness, + The wild wind whirls away." + +I took up my muff and walked on. The incident had occurred and was gone +for me: it _was_ an incident of no moment, no romance, no interest in a +sense; yet it marked with change one single hour of a monotonous life. My +help had been needed and claimed; I had given it: I was pleased to have +done something; trivial, transitory though the deed was, it was yet an +active thing, and I was weary of an existence all passive. The new face, +too, was like a new picture introduced to the gallery of memory; and it +was dissimilar to all the others hanging there: firstly, because it was +masculine; and, secondly, because it was dark, strong, and stern. I had +it still before me when I entered Hay, and slipped the letter into the +post-office; I saw it as I walked fast down-hill all the way home. When +I came to the stile, I stopped a minute, looked round and listened, with +an idea that a horse's hoofs might ring on the causeway again, and that a +rider in a cloak, and a Gytrash-like Newfoundland dog, might be again +apparent: I saw only the hedge and a pollard willow before me, rising up +still and straight to meet the moonbeams; I heard only the faintest waft +of wind roaming fitful among the trees round Thornfield, a mile distant; +and when I glanced down in the direction of the murmur, my eye, +traversing the hall-front, caught a light kindling in a window: it +reminded me that I was late, and I hurried on. + +I did not like re-entering Thornfield. To pass its threshold was to +return to stagnation; to cross the silent hall, to ascend the darksome +staircase, to seek my own lonely little room, and then to meet tranquil +Mrs. Fairfax, and spend the long winter evening with her, and her only, +was to quell wholly the faint excitement wakened by my walk,--to slip +again over my faculties the viewless fetters of an uniform and too still +existence; of an existence whose very privileges of security and ease I +was becoming incapable of appreciating. What good it would have done me +at that time to have been tossed in the storms of an uncertain struggling +life, and to have been taught by rough and bitter experience to long for +the calm amidst which I now repined! Yes, just as much good as it would +do a man tired of sitting still in a "too easy chair" to take a long +walk: and just as natural was the wish to stir, under my circumstances, +as it would be under his. + +I lingered at the gates; I lingered on the lawn; I paced backwards and +forwards on the pavement; the shutters of the glass door were closed; I +could not see into the interior; and both my eyes and spirit seemed drawn +from the gloomy house--from the grey-hollow filled with rayless cells, as +it appeared to me--to that sky expanded before me,--a blue sea absolved +from taint of cloud; the moon ascending it in solemn march; her orb +seeming to look up as she left the hill-tops, from behind which she had +come, far and farther below her, and aspired to the zenith, midnight dark +in its fathomless depth and measureless distance; and for those trembling +stars that followed her course; they made my heart tremble, my veins glow +when I viewed them. Little things recall us to earth; the clock struck +in the hall; that sufficed; I turned from moon and stars, opened a side- +door, and went in. + +The hall was not dark, nor yet was it lit, only by the high-hung bronze +lamp; a warm glow suffused both it and the lower steps of the oak +staircase. This ruddy shine issued from the great dining-room, whose two- +leaved door stood open, and showed a genial fire in the grate, glancing +on marble hearth and brass fire-irons, and revealing purple draperies and +polished furniture, in the most pleasant radiance. It revealed, too, a +group near the mantelpiece: I had scarcely caught it, and scarcely become +aware of a cheerful mingling of voices, amongst which I seemed to +distinguish the tones of Adele, when the door closed. + +I hastened to Mrs. Fairfax's room; there was a fire there too, but no +candle, and no Mrs. Fairfax. Instead, all alone, sitting upright on the +rug, and gazing with gravity at the blaze, I beheld a great black and +white long-haired dog, just like the Gytrash of the lane. It was so like +it that I went forward and said--"Pilot" and the thing got up and came to +me and snuffed me. I caressed him, and he wagged his great tail; but he +looked an eerie creature to be alone with, and I could not tell whence he +had come. I rang the bell, for I wanted a candle; and I wanted, too, to +get an account of this visitant. Leah entered. + +"What dog is this?" + +"He came with master." + +"With whom?" + +"With master--Mr. Rochester--he is just arrived." + +"Indeed! and is Mrs. Fairfax with him?" + +"Yes, and Miss Adele; they are in the dining-room, and John is gone for a +surgeon; for master has had an accident; his horse fell and his ankle is +sprained." + +"Did the horse fall in Hay Lane?" + +"Yes, coming down-hill; it slipped on some ice." + +"Ah! Bring me a candle will you Leah?" + +Leah brought it; she entered, followed by Mrs. Fairfax, who repeated the +news; adding that Mr. Carter the surgeon was come, and was now with Mr. +Rochester: then she hurried out to give orders about tea, and I went +upstairs to take off my things. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Mr. Rochester, it seems, by the surgeon's orders, went to bed early that +night; nor did he rise soon next morning. When he did come down, it was +to attend to business: his agent and some of his tenants were arrived, +and waiting to speak with him. + +Adele and I had now to vacate the library: it would be in daily +requisition as a reception-room for callers. A fire was lit in an +apartment upstairs, and there I carried our books, and arranged it for +the future schoolroom. I discerned in the course of the morning that +Thornfield Hall was a changed place: no longer silent as a church, it +echoed every hour or two to a knock at the door, or a clang of the bell; +steps, too, often traversed the hall, and new voices spoke in different +keys below; a rill from the outer world was flowing through it; it had a +master: for my part, I liked it better. + +Adele was not easy to teach that day; she could not apply: she kept +running to the door and looking over the banisters to see if she could +get a glimpse of Mr. Rochester; then she coined pretexts to go +downstairs, in order, as I shrewdly suspected, to visit the library, +where I knew she was not wanted; then, when I got a little angry, and +made her sit still, she continued to talk incessantly of her "ami, +Monsieur Edouard Fairfax _de_ Rochester," as she dubbed him (I had not +before heard his prenomens), and to conjecture what presents he had +brought her: for it appears he had intimated the night before, that when +his luggage came from Millcote, there would be found amongst it a little +box in whose contents she had an interest. + +"Et cela doit signifier," said she, "qu'il y aura la dedans un cadeau +pour moi, et peut-etre pour vous aussi, mademoiselle. Monsieur a parle +de vous: il m'a demande le nom de ma gouvernante, et si elle n'etait pas +une petite personne, assez mince et un peu pale. J'ai dit qu'oui: car +c'est vrai, n'est-ce pas, mademoiselle?" + +I and my pupil dined as usual in Mrs. Fairfax's parlour; the afternoon +was wild and snowy, and we passed it in the schoolroom. At dark I +allowed Adele to put away books and work, and to run downstairs; for, +from the comparative silence below, and from the cessation of appeals to +the door-bell, I conjectured that Mr. Rochester was now at liberty. Left +alone, I walked to the window; but nothing was to be seen thence: +twilight and snowflakes together thickened the air, and hid the very +shrubs on the lawn. I let down the curtain and went back to the +fireside. + +In the clear embers I was tracing a view, not unlike a picture I +remembered to have seen of the castle of Heidelberg, on the Rhine, when +Mrs. Fairfax came in, breaking up by her entrance the fiery mosaic I had +been piercing together, and scattering too some heavy unwelcome thoughts +that were beginning to throng on my solitude. + +"Mr. Rochester would be glad if you and your pupil would take tea with +him in the drawing-room this evening," said she: "he has been so much +engaged all day that he could not ask to see you before." + +"When is his tea-time?" I inquired. + +"Oh, at six o'clock: he keeps early hours in the country. You had better +change your frock now; I will go with you and fasten it. Here is a +candle." + +"Is it necessary to change my frock?" + +"Yes, you had better: I always dress for the evening when Mr. Rochester +is here." + +This additional ceremony seemed somewhat stately; however, I repaired to +my room, and, with Mrs. Fairfax's aid, replaced my black stuff dress by +one of black silk; the best and the only additional one I had, except one +of light grey, which, in my Lowood notions of the toilette, I thought too +fine to be worn, except on first-rate occasions. + +"You want a brooch," said Mrs. Fairfax. I had a single little pearl +ornament which Miss Temple gave me as a parting keepsake: I put it on, +and then we went downstairs. Unused as I was to strangers, it was rather +a trial to appear thus formally summoned in Mr. Rochester's presence. I +let Mrs. Fairfax precede me into the dining-room, and kept in her shade +as we crossed that apartment; and, passing the arch, whose curtain was +now dropped, entered the elegant recess beyond. + +Two wax candles stood lighted on the table, and two on the mantelpiece; +basking in the light and heat of a superb fire, lay Pilot--Adele knelt +near him. Half reclined on a couch appeared Mr. Rochester, his foot +supported by the cushion; he was looking at Adele and the dog: the fire +shone full on his face. I knew my traveller with his broad and jetty +eyebrows; his square forehead, made squarer by the horizontal sweep of +his black hair. I recognised his decisive nose, more remarkable for +character than beauty; his full nostrils, denoting, I thought, choler; +his grim mouth, chin, and jaw--yes, all three were very grim, and no +mistake. His shape, now divested of cloak, I perceived harmonised in +squareness with his physiognomy: I suppose it was a good figure in the +athletic sense of the term--broad chested and thin flanked, though +neither tall nor graceful. + +Mr. Rochester must have been aware of the entrance of Mrs. Fairfax and +myself; but it appeared he was not in the mood to notice us, for he never +lifted his head as we approached. + +"Here is Miss Eyre, sir," said Mrs. Fairfax, in her quiet way. He bowed, +still not taking his eyes from the group of the dog and child. + +"Let Miss Eyre be seated," said he: and there was something in the forced +stiff bow, in the impatient yet formal tone, which seemed further to +express, "What the deuce is it to me whether Miss Eyre be there or not? +At this moment I am not disposed to accost her." + +I sat down quite disembarrassed. A reception of finished politeness +would probably have confused me: I could not have returned or repaid it +by answering grace and elegance on my part; but harsh caprice laid me +under no obligation; on the contrary, a decent quiescence, under the +freak of manner, gave me the advantage. Besides, the eccentricity of the +proceeding was piquant: I felt interested to see how he would go on. + +He went on as a statue would, that is, he neither spoke nor moved. Mrs. +Fairfax seemed to think it necessary that some one should be amiable, and +she began to talk. Kindly, as usual--and, as usual, rather trite--she +condoled with him on the pressure of business he had had all day; on the +annoyance it must have been to him with that painful sprain: then she +commended his patience and perseverance in going through with it. + +"Madam, I should like some tea," was the sole rejoinder she got. She +hastened to ring the bell; and when the tray came, she proceeded to +arrange the cups, spoons, &c., with assiduous celerity. I and Adele went +to the table; but the master did not leave his couch. + +"Will you hand Mr. Rochester's cup?" said Mrs. Fairfax to me; "Adele +might perhaps spill it." + +I did as requested. As he took the cup from my hand, Adele, thinking the +moment propitious for making a request in my favour, cried out-- + +"N'est-ce pas, monsieur, qu'il y a un cadeau pour Mademoiselle Eyre dans +votre petit coffre?" + +"Who talks of cadeaux?" said he gruffly. "Did you expect a present, Miss +Eyre? Are you fond of presents?" and he searched my face with eyes that +I saw were dark, irate, and piercing. + +"I hardly know, sir; I have little experience of them: they are generally +thought pleasant things." + +"Generally thought? But what do _you_ think?" + +"I should be obliged to take time, sir, before I could give you an answer +worthy of your acceptance: a present has many faces to it, has it not? +and one should consider all, before pronouncing an opinion as to its +nature." + +"Miss Eyre, you are not so unsophisticated as Adele: she demands a +'cadeau,' clamorously, the moment she sees me: you beat about the bush." + +"Because I have less confidence in my deserts than Adele has: she can +prefer the claim of old acquaintance, and the right too of custom; for +she says you have always been in the habit of giving her playthings; but +if I had to make out a case I should be puzzled, since I am a stranger, +and have done nothing to entitle me to an acknowledgment." + +"Oh, don't fall back on over-modesty! I have examined Adele, and find +you have taken great pains with her: she is not bright, she has no +talents; yet in a short time she has made much improvement." + +"Sir, you have now given me my 'cadeau;' I am obliged to you: it is the +meed teachers most covet--praise of their pupils' progress." + +"Humph!" said Mr. Rochester, and he took his tea in silence. + +"Come to the fire," said the master, when the tray was taken away, and +Mrs. Fairfax had settled into a corner with her knitting; while Adele was +leading me by the hand round the room, showing me the beautiful books and +ornaments on the consoles and chiffonnieres. We obeyed, as in duty +bound; Adele wanted to take a seat on my knee, but she was ordered to +amuse herself with Pilot. + +"You have been resident in my house three months?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you came from--?" + +"From Lowood school, in ---shire." + +"Ah! a charitable concern. How long were you there?" + +"Eight years." + +"Eight years! you must be tenacious of life. I thought half the time in +such a place would have done up any constitution! No wonder you have +rather the look of another world. I marvelled where you had got that +sort of face. When you came on me in Hay Lane last night, I thought +unaccountably of fairy tales, and had half a mind to demand whether you +had bewitched my horse: I am not sure yet. Who are your parents?" + +"I have none." + +"Nor ever had, I suppose: do you remember them?" + +"No." + +"I thought not. And so you were waiting for your people when you sat on +that stile?" + +"For whom, sir?" + +"For the men in green: it was a proper moonlight evening for them. Did I +break through one of your rings, that you spread that damned ice on the +causeway?" + +I shook my head. "The men in green all forsook England a hundred years +ago," said I, speaking as seriously as he had done. "And not even in Hay +Lane, or the fields about it, could you find a trace of them. I don't +think either summer or harvest, or winter moon, will ever shine on their +revels more." + +Mrs. Fairfax had dropped her knitting, and, with raised eyebrows, seemed +wondering what sort of talk this was. + +"Well," resumed Mr. Rochester, "if you disown parents, you must have some +sort of kinsfolk: uncles and aunts?" + +"No; none that I ever saw." + +"And your home?" + +"I have none." + +"Where do your brothers and sisters live?" + +"I have no brothers or sisters." + +"Who recommended you to come here?" + +"I advertised, and Mrs. Fairfax answered my advertisement." + +"Yes," said the good lady, who now knew what ground we were upon, "and I +am daily thankful for the choice Providence led me to make. Miss Eyre +has been an invaluable companion to me, and a kind and careful teacher to +Adele." + +"Don't trouble yourself to give her a character," returned Mr. Rochester: +"eulogiums will not bias me; I shall judge for myself. She began by +felling my horse." + +"Sir?" said Mrs. Fairfax. + +"I have to thank her for this sprain." + +The widow looked bewildered. + +"Miss Eyre, have you ever lived in a town?" + +"No, sir." + +"Have you seen much society?" + +"None but the pupils and teachers of Lowood, and now the inmates of +Thornfield." + +"Have you read much?" + +"Only such books as came in my way; and they have not been numerous or +very learned." + +"You have lived the life of a nun: no doubt you are well drilled in +religious forms;--Brocklehurst, who I understand directs Lowood, is a +parson, is he not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you girls probably worshipped him, as a convent full of religieuses +would worship their director." + +"Oh, no." + +"You are very cool! No! What! a novice not worship her priest! That +sounds blasphemous." + +"I disliked Mr. Brocklehurst; and I was not alone in the feeling. He is +a harsh man; at once pompous and meddling; he cut off our hair; and for +economy's sake bought us bad needles and thread, with which we could +hardly sew." + +"That was very false economy," remarked Mrs. Fairfax, who now again +caught the drift of the dialogue. + +"And was that the head and front of his offending?" demanded Mr. +Rochester. + +"He starved us when he had the sole superintendence of the provision +department, before the committee was appointed; and he bored us with long +lectures once a week, and with evening readings from books of his own +inditing, about sudden deaths and judgments, which made us afraid to go +to bed." + +"What age were you when you went to Lowood?" + +"About ten." + +"And you stayed there eight years: you are now, then, eighteen?" + +I assented. + +"Arithmetic, you see, is useful; without its aid, I should hardly have +been able to guess your age. It is a point difficult to fix where the +features and countenance are so much at variance as in your case. And +now what did you learn at Lowood? Can you play?" + +"A little." + +"Of course: that is the established answer. Go into the library--I mean, +if you please.--(Excuse my tone of command; I am used to say, 'Do this,' +and it is done: I cannot alter my customary habits for one new +inmate.)--Go, then, into the library; take a candle with you; leave the +door open; sit down to the piano, and play a tune." + +I departed, obeying his directions. + +"Enough!" he called out in a few minutes. "You play _a little_, I see; +like any other English school-girl; perhaps rather better than some, but +not well." + +I closed the piano and returned. Mr. Rochester continued--"Adele showed +me some sketches this morning, which she said were yours. I don't know +whether they were entirely of your doing; probably a master aided you?" + +"No, indeed!" I interjected. + +"Ah! that pricks pride. Well, fetch me your portfolio, if you can vouch +for its contents being original; but don't pass your word unless you are +certain: I can recognise patchwork." + +"Then I will say nothing, and you shall judge for yourself, sir." + +I brought the portfolio from the library. + +"Approach the table," said he; and I wheeled it to his couch. Adele and +Mrs. Fairfax drew near to see the pictures. + +"No crowding," said Mr. Rochester: "take the drawings from my hand as I +finish with them; but don't push your faces up to mine." + +He deliberately scrutinised each sketch and painting. Three he laid +aside; the others, when he had examined them, he swept from him. + +"Take them off to the other table, Mrs. Fairfax," said he, "and look at +them with Adele;--you" (glancing at me) "resume your seat, and answer my +questions. I perceive those pictures were done by one hand: was that +hand yours?" + +"Yes." + +"And when did you find time to do them? They have taken much time, and +some thought." + +"I did them in the last two vacations I spent at Lowood, when I had no +other occupation." + +"Where did you get your copies?" + +"Out of my head." + +"That head I see now on your shoulders?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Has it other furniture of the same kind within?" + +"I should think it may have: I should hope--better." + +He spread the pictures before him, and again surveyed them alternately. + +While he is so occupied, I will tell you, reader, what they are: and +first, I must premise that they are nothing wonderful. The subjects had, +indeed, risen vividly on my mind. As I saw them with the spiritual eye, +before I attempted to embody them, they were striking; but my hand would +not second my fancy, and in each case it had wrought out but a pale +portrait of the thing I had conceived. + +These pictures were in water-colours. The first represented clouds low +and livid, rolling over a swollen sea: all the distance was in eclipse; +so, too, was the foreground; or rather, the nearest billows, for there +was no land. One gleam of light lifted into relief a half-submerged +mast, on which sat a cormorant, dark and large, with wings flecked with +foam; its beak held a gold bracelet set with gems, that I had touched +with as brilliant tints as my palette could yield, and as glittering +distinctness as my pencil could impart. Sinking below the bird and mast, +a drowned corpse glanced through the green water; a fair arm was the only +limb clearly visible, whence the bracelet had been washed or torn. + +The second picture contained for foreground only the dim peak of a hill, +with grass and some leaves slanting as if by a breeze. Beyond and above +spread an expanse of sky, dark blue as at twilight: rising into the sky +was a woman's shape to the bust, portrayed in tints as dusk and soft as I +could combine. The dim forehead was crowned with a star; the lineaments +below were seen as through the suffusion of vapour; the eyes shone dark +and wild; the hair streamed shadowy, like a beamless cloud torn by storm +or by electric travail. On the neck lay a pale reflection like +moonlight; the same faint lustre touched the train of thin clouds from +which rose and bowed this vision of the Evening Star. + +The third showed the pinnacle of an iceberg piercing a polar winter sky: +a muster of northern lights reared their dim lances, close serried, along +the horizon. Throwing these into distance, rose, in the foreground, a +head,--a colossal head, inclined towards the iceberg, and resting against +it. Two thin hands, joined under the forehead, and supporting it, drew +up before the lower features a sable veil, a brow quite bloodless, white +as bone, and an eye hollow and fixed, blank of meaning but for the +glassiness of despair, alone were visible. Above the temples, amidst +wreathed turban folds of black drapery, vague in its character and +consistency as cloud, gleamed a ring of white flame, gemmed with sparkles +of a more lurid tinge. This pale crescent was "the likeness of a kingly +crown;" what it diademed was "the shape which shape had none." + +"Were you happy when you painted these pictures?" asked Mr. Rochester +presently. + +"I was absorbed, sir: yes, and I was happy. To paint them, in short, was +to enjoy one of the keenest pleasures I have ever known." + +"That is not saying much. Your pleasures, by your own account, have been +few; but I daresay you did exist in a kind of artist's dreamland while +you blent and arranged these strange tints. Did you sit at them long +each day?" + +"I had nothing else to do, because it was the vacation, and I sat at them +from morning till noon, and from noon till night: the length of the +midsummer days favoured my inclination to apply." + +"And you felt self-satisfied with the result of your ardent labours?" + +"Far from it. I was tormented by the contrast between my idea and my +handiwork: in each case I had imagined something which I was quite +powerless to realise." + +"Not quite: you have secured the shadow of your thought; but no more, +probably. You had not enough of the artist's skill and science to give +it full being: yet the drawings are, for a school-girl, peculiar. As to +the thoughts, they are elfish. These eyes in the Evening Star you must +have seen in a dream. How could you make them look so clear, and yet not +at all brilliant? for the planet above quells their rays. And what +meaning is that in their solemn depth? And who taught you to paint wind? +There is a high gale in that sky, and on this hill-top. Where did you +see Latmos? For that is Latmos. There! put the drawings away!" + +I had scarce tied the strings of the portfolio, when, looking at his +watch, he said abruptly-- + +"It is nine o'clock: what are you about, Miss Eyre, to let Adele sit up +so long? Take her to bed." + +Adele went to kiss him before quitting the room: he endured the caress, +but scarcely seemed to relish it more than Pilot would have done, nor so +much. + +"I wish you all good-night, now," said he, making a movement of the hand +towards the door, in token that he was tired of our company, and wished +to dismiss us. Mrs. Fairfax folded up her knitting: I took my portfolio: +we curtseyed to him, received a frigid bow in return, and so withdrew. + +"You said Mr. Rochester was not strikingly peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax," I +observed, when I rejoined her in her room, after putting Adele to bed. + +"Well, is he?" + +"I think so: he is very changeful and abrupt." + +"True: no doubt he may appear so to a stranger, but I am so accustomed to +his manner, I never think of it; and then, if he has peculiarities of +temper, allowance should be made." + +"Why?" + +"Partly because it is his nature--and we can none of us help our nature; +and partly because he has painful thoughts, no doubt, to harass him, and +make his spirits unequal." + +"What about?" + +"Family troubles, for one thing." + +"But he has no family." + +"Not now, but he has had--or, at least, relatives. He lost his elder +brother a few years since." + +"His _elder_ brother?" + +"Yes. The present Mr. Rochester has not been very long in possession of +the property; only about nine years." + +"Nine years is a tolerable time. Was he so very fond of his brother as +to be still inconsolable for his loss?" + +"Why, no--perhaps not. I believe there were some misunderstandings +between them. Mr. Rowland Rochester was not quite just to Mr. Edward; +and perhaps he prejudiced his father against him. The old gentleman was +fond of money, and anxious to keep the family estate together. He did +not like to diminish the property by division, and yet he was anxious +that Mr. Edward should have wealth, too, to keep up the consequence of +the name; and, soon after he was of age, some steps were taken that were +not quite fair, and made a great deal of mischief. Old Mr. Rochester and +Mr. Rowland combined to bring Mr. Edward into what he considered a +painful position, for the sake of making his fortune: what the precise +nature of that position was I never clearly knew, but his spirit could +not brook what he had to suffer in it. He is not very forgiving: he +broke with his family, and now for many years he has led an unsettled +kind of life. I don't think he has ever been resident at Thornfield for +a fortnight together, since the death of his brother without a will left +him master of the estate; and, indeed, no wonder he shuns the old place." + +"Why should he shun it?" + +"Perhaps he thinks it gloomy." + +The answer was evasive. I should have liked something clearer; but Mrs. +Fairfax either could not, or would not, give me more explicit information +of the origin and nature of Mr. Rochester's trials. She averred they +were a mystery to herself, and that what she knew was chiefly from +conjecture. It was evident, indeed, that she wished me to drop the +subject, which I did accordingly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +For several subsequent days I saw little of Mr. Rochester. In the +mornings he seemed much engaged with business, and, in the afternoon, +gentlemen from Millcote or the neighbourhood called, and sometimes stayed +to dine with him. When his sprain was well enough to admit of horse +exercise, he rode out a good deal; probably to return these visits, as he +generally did not come back till late at night. + +During this interval, even Adele was seldom sent for to his presence, and +all my acquaintance with him was confined to an occasional rencontre in +the hall, on the stairs, or in the gallery, when he would sometimes pass +me haughtily and coldly, just acknowledging my presence by a distant nod +or a cool glance, and sometimes bow and smile with gentlemanlike +affability. His changes of mood did not offend me, because I saw that I +had nothing to do with their alternation; the ebb and flow depended on +causes quite disconnected with me. + +One day he had had company to dinner, and had sent for my portfolio; in +order, doubtless, to exhibit its contents: the gentlemen went away early, +to attend a public meeting at Millcote, as Mrs. Fairfax informed me; but +the night being wet and inclement, Mr. Rochester did not accompany them. +Soon after they were gone he rang the bell: a message came that I and +Adele were to go downstairs. I brushed Adele's hair and made her neat, +and having ascertained that I was myself in my usual Quaker trim, where +there was nothing to retouch--all being too close and plain, braided +locks included, to admit of disarrangement--we descended, Adele wondering +whether the _petit coffre_ was at length come; for, owing to some +mistake, its arrival had hitherto been delayed. She was gratified: there +it stood, a little carton, on the table when we entered the dining-room. +She appeared to know it by instinct. + +"Ma boite! ma boite!" exclaimed she, running towards it. + +"Yes, there is your 'boite' at last: take it into a corner, you genuine +daughter of Paris, and amuse yourself with disembowelling it," said the +deep and rather sarcastic voice of Mr. Rochester, proceeding from the +depths of an immense easy-chair at the fireside. "And mind," he +continued, "don't bother me with any details of the anatomical process, +or any notice of the condition of the entrails: let your operation be +conducted in silence: tiens-toi tranquille, enfant; comprends-tu?" + +Adele seemed scarcely to need the warning--she had already retired to a +sofa with her treasure, and was busy untying the cord which secured the +lid. Having removed this impediment, and lifted certain silvery +envelopes of tissue paper, she merely exclaimed-- + +"Oh ciel! Que c'est beau!" and then remained absorbed in ecstatic +contemplation. + +"Is Miss Eyre there?" now demanded the master, half rising from his seat +to look round to the door, near which I still stood. + +"Ah! well, come forward; be seated here." He drew a chair near his own. +"I am not fond of the prattle of children," he continued; "for, old +bachelor as I am, I have no pleasant associations connected with their +lisp. It would be intolerable to me to pass a whole evening +_tete-a-tete_ with a brat. Don't draw that chair farther off, Miss Eyre; +sit down exactly where I placed it--if you please, that is. Confound +these civilities! I continually forget them. Nor do I particularly +affect simple-minded old ladies. By-the-bye, I must have mine in mind; +it won't do to neglect her; she is a Fairfax, or wed to one; and blood is +said to be thicker than water." + +He rang, and despatched an invitation to Mrs. Fairfax, who soon arrived, +knitting-basket in hand. + +"Good evening, madam; I sent to you for a charitable purpose. I have +forbidden Adele to talk to me about her presents, and she is bursting +with repletion: have the goodness to serve her as auditress and +interlocutrice; it will be one of the most benevolent acts you ever +performed." + +Adele, indeed, no sooner saw Mrs. Fairfax, than she summoned her to her +sofa, and there quickly filled her lap with the porcelain, the ivory, the +waxen contents of her "boite;" pouring out, meantime, explanations and +raptures in such broken English as she was mistress of. + +"Now I have performed the part of a good host," pursued Mr. Rochester, +"put my guests into the way of amusing each other, I ought to be at +liberty to attend to my own pleasure. Miss Eyre, draw your chair still a +little farther forward: you are yet too far back; I cannot see you +without disturbing my position in this comfortable chair, which I have no +mind to do." + +I did as I was bid, though I would much rather have remained somewhat in +the shade; but Mr. Rochester had such a direct way of giving orders, it +seemed a matter of course to obey him promptly. + +We were, as I have said, in the dining-room: the lustre, which had been +lit for dinner, filled the room with a festal breadth of light; the large +fire was all red and clear; the purple curtains hung rich and ample +before the lofty window and loftier arch; everything was still, save the +subdued chat of Adele (she dared not speak loud), and, filling up each +pause, the beating of winter rain against the panes. + +Mr. Rochester, as he sat in his damask-covered chair, looked different to +what I had seen him look before; not quite so stern--much less gloomy. +There was a smile on his lips, and his eyes sparkled, whether with wine +or not, I am not sure; but I think it very probable. He was, in short, +in his after-dinner mood; more expanded and genial, and also more self- +indulgent than the frigid and rigid temper of the morning; still he +looked preciously grim, cushioning his massive head against the swelling +back of his chair, and receiving the light of the fire on his granite- +hewn features, and in his great, dark eyes; for he had great, dark eyes, +and very fine eyes, too--not without a certain change in their depths +sometimes, which, if it was not softness, reminded you, at least, of that +feeling. + +He had been looking two minutes at the fire, and I had been looking the +same length of time at him, when, turning suddenly, he caught my gaze +fastened on his physiognomy. + +"You examine me, Miss Eyre," said he: "do you think me handsome?" + +I should, if I had deliberated, have replied to this question by +something conventionally vague and polite; but the answer somehow slipped +from my tongue before I was aware--"No, sir." + +"Ah! By my word! there is something singular about you," said he: "you +have the air of a little _nonnette_; quaint, quiet, grave, and simple, as +you sit with your hands before you, and your eyes generally bent on the +carpet (except, by-the-bye, when they are directed piercingly to my face; +as just now, for instance); and when one asks you a question, or makes a +remark to which you are obliged to reply, you rap out a round rejoinder, +which, if not blunt, is at least brusque. What do you mean by it?" + +"Sir, I was too plain; I beg your pardon. I ought to have replied that +it was not easy to give an impromptu answer to a question about +appearances; that tastes mostly differ; and that beauty is of little +consequence, or something of that sort." + +"You ought to have replied no such thing. Beauty of little consequence, +indeed! And so, under pretence of softening the previous outrage, of +stroking and soothing me into placidity, you stick a sly penknife under +my ear! Go on: what fault do you find with me, pray? I suppose I have +all my limbs and all my features like any other man?" + +"Mr. Rochester, allow me to disown my first answer: I intended no pointed +repartee: it was only a blunder." + +"Just so: I think so: and you shall be answerable for it. Criticise me: +does my forehead not please you?" + +He lifted up the sable waves of hair which lay horizontally over his +brow, and showed a solid enough mass of intellectual organs, but an +abrupt deficiency where the suave sign of benevolence should have risen. + +"Now, ma'am, am I a fool?" + +"Far from it, sir. You would, perhaps, think me rude if I inquired in +return whether you are a philanthropist?" + +"There again! Another stick of the penknife, when she pretended to pat +my head: and that is because I said I did not like the society of +children and old women (low be it spoken!). No, young lady, I am not a +general philanthropist; but I bear a conscience;" and he pointed to the +prominences which are said to indicate that faculty, and which, +fortunately for him, were sufficiently conspicuous; giving, indeed, a +marked breadth to the upper part of his head: "and, besides, I once had a +kind of rude tenderness of heart. When I was as old as you, I was a +feeling fellow enough, partial to the unfledged, unfostered, and unlucky; +but Fortune has knocked me about since: she has even kneaded me with her +knuckles, and now I flatter myself I am hard and tough as an India-rubber +ball; pervious, though, through a chink or two still, and with one +sentient point in the middle of the lump. Yes: does that leave hope for +me?" + +"Hope of what, sir?" + +"Of my final re-transformation from India-rubber back to flesh?" + +"Decidedly he has had too much wine," I thought; and I did not know what +answer to make to his queer question: how could I tell whether he was +capable of being re-transformed? + +"You looked very much puzzled, Miss Eyre; and though you are not pretty +any more than I am handsome, yet a puzzled air becomes you; besides, it +is convenient, for it keeps those searching eyes of yours away from my +physiognomy, and busies them with the worsted flowers of the rug; so +puzzle on. Young lady, I am disposed to be gregarious and communicative +to-night." + +With this announcement he rose from his chair, and stood, leaning his arm +on the marble mantelpiece: in that attitude his shape was seen plainly as +well as his face; his unusual breadth of chest, disproportionate almost +to his length of limb. I am sure most people would have thought him an +ugly man; yet there was so much unconscious pride in his port; so much +ease in his demeanour; such a look of complete indifference to his own +external appearance; so haughty a reliance on the power of other +qualities, intrinsic or adventitious, to atone for the lack of mere +personal attractiveness, that, in looking at him, one inevitably shared +the indifference, and, even in a blind, imperfect sense, put faith in the +confidence. + +"I am disposed to be gregarious and communicative to-night," he repeated, +"and that is why I sent for you: the fire and the chandelier were not +sufficient company for me; nor would Pilot have been, for none of these +can talk. Adele is a degree better, but still far below the mark; Mrs. +Fairfax ditto; you, I am persuaded, can suit me if you will: you puzzled +me the first evening I invited you down here. I have almost forgotten +you since: other ideas have driven yours from my head; but to-night I am +resolved to be at ease; to dismiss what importunes, and recall what +pleases. It would please me now to draw you out--to learn more of +you--therefore speak." + +Instead of speaking, I smiled; and not a very complacent or submissive +smile either. + +"Speak," he urged. + +"What about, sir?" + +"Whatever you like. I leave both the choice of subject and the manner of +treating it entirely to yourself." + +Accordingly I sat and said nothing: "If he expects me to talk for the +mere sake of talking and showing off, he will find he has addressed +himself to the wrong person," I thought. + +"You are dumb, Miss Eyre." + +I was dumb still. He bent his head a little towards me, and with a +single hasty glance seemed to dive into my eyes. + +"Stubborn?" he said, "and annoyed. Ah! it is consistent. I put my +request in an absurd, almost insolent form. Miss Eyre, I beg your +pardon. The fact is, once for all, I don't wish to treat you like an +inferior: that is" (correcting himself), "I claim only such superiority +as must result from twenty years' difference in age and a century's +advance in experience. This is legitimate, _et j'y tiens_, as Adele +would say; and it is by virtue of this superiority, and this alone, that +I desire you to have the goodness to talk to me a little now, and divert +my thoughts, which are galled with dwelling on one point--cankering as a +rusty nail." + +He had deigned an explanation, almost an apology, and I did not feel +insensible to his condescension, and would not seem so. + +"I am willing to amuse you, if I can, sir--quite willing; but I cannot +introduce a topic, because how do I know what will interest you? Ask me +questions, and I will do my best to answer them." + +"Then, in the first place, do you agree with me that I have a right to be +a little masterful, abrupt, perhaps exacting, sometimes, on the grounds I +stated, namely, that I am old enough to be your father, and that I have +battled through a varied experience with many men of many nations, and +roamed over half the globe, while you have lived quietly with one set of +people in one house?" + +"Do as you please, sir." + +"That is no answer; or rather it is a very irritating, because a very +evasive one. Reply clearly." + +"I don't think, sir, you have a right to command me, merely because you +are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; +your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time +and experience." + +"Humph! Promptly spoken. But I won't allow that, seeing that it would +never suit my case, as I have made an indifferent, not to say a bad, use +of both advantages. Leaving superiority out of the question, then, you +must still agree to receive my orders now and then, without being piqued +or hurt by the tone of command. Will you?" + +I smiled: I thought to myself Mr. Rochester _is_ peculiar--he seems to +forget that he pays me 30 pounds per annum for receiving his orders. + +"The smile is very well," said he, catching instantly the passing +expression; "but speak too." + +"I was thinking, sir, that very few masters would trouble themselves to +inquire whether or not their paid subordinates were piqued and hurt by +their orders." + +"Paid subordinates! What! you are my paid subordinate, are you? Oh yes, +I had forgotten the salary! Well then, on that mercenary ground, will +you agree to let me hector a little?" + +"No, sir, not on that ground; but, on the ground that you did forget it, +and that you care whether or not a dependent is comfortable in his +dependency, I agree heartily." + +"And will you consent to dispense with a great many conventional forms +and phrases, without thinking that the omission arises from insolence?" + +"I am sure, sir, I should never mistake informality for insolence: one I +rather like, the other nothing free-born would submit to, even for a +salary." + +"Humbug! Most things free-born will submit to anything for a salary; +therefore, keep to yourself, and don't venture on generalities of which +you are intensely ignorant. However, I mentally shake hands with you for +your answer, despite its inaccuracy; and as much for the manner in which +it was said, as for the substance of the speech; the manner was frank and +sincere; one does not often see such a manner: no, on the contrary, +affectation, or coldness, or stupid, coarse-minded misapprehension of +one's meaning are the usual rewards of candour. Not three in three +thousand raw school-girl-governesses would have answered me as you have +just done. But I don't mean to flatter you: if you are cast in a +different mould to the majority, it is no merit of yours: Nature did it. +And then, after all, I go too fast in my conclusions: for what I yet +know, you may be no better than the rest; you may have intolerable +defects to counterbalance your few good points." + +"And so may you," I thought. My eye met his as the idea crossed my mind: +he seemed to read the glance, answering as if its import had been spoken +as well as imagined-- + +"Yes, yes, you are right," said he; "I have plenty of faults of my own: I +know it, and I don't wish to palliate them, I assure you. God wot I need +not be too severe about others; I have a past existence, a series of +deeds, a colour of life to contemplate within my own breast, which might +well call my sneers and censures from my neighbours to myself. I +started, or rather (for like other defaulters, I like to lay half the +blame on ill fortune and adverse circumstances) was thrust on to a wrong +tack at the age of one-and-twenty, and have never recovered the right +course since: but I might have been very different; I might have been as +good as you--wiser--almost as stainless. I envy you your peace of mind, +your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a memory +without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure--an +inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not?" + +"How was your memory when you were eighteen, sir?" + +"All right then; limpid, salubrious: no gush of bilge water had turned it +to fetid puddle. I was your equal at eighteen--quite your equal. Nature +meant me to be, on the whole, a good man, Miss Eyre; one of the better +kind, and you see I am not so. You would say you don't see it; at least +I flatter myself I read as much in your eye (beware, by-the-bye, what you +express with that organ; I am quick at interpreting its language). Then +take my word for it,--I am not a villain: you are not to suppose that--not +to attribute to me any such bad eminence; but, owing, I verily believe, +rather to circumstances than to my natural bent, I am a trite commonplace +sinner, hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations with which the rich +and worthless try to put on life. Do you wonder that I avow this to you? +Know, that in the course of your future life you will often find yourself +elected the involuntary confidant of your acquaintances' secrets: people +will instinctively find out, as I have done, that it is not your forte to +tell of yourself, but to listen while others talk of themselves; they +will feel, too, that you listen with no malevolent scorn of their +indiscretion, but with a kind of innate sympathy; not the less comforting +and encouraging because it is very unobtrusive in its manifestations." + +"How do you know?--how can you guess all this, sir?" + +"I know it well; therefore I proceed almost as freely as if I were +writing my thoughts in a diary. You would say, I should have been +superior to circumstances; so I should--so I should; but you see I was +not. When fate wronged me, I had not the wisdom to remain cool: I turned +desperate; then I degenerated. Now, when any vicious simpleton excites +my disgust by his paltry ribaldry, I cannot flatter myself that I am +better than he: I am forced to confess that he and I are on a level. I +wish I had stood firm--God knows I do! Dread remorse when you are +tempted to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life." + +"Repentance is said to be its cure, sir." + +"It is not its cure. Reformation may be its cure; and I could reform--I +have strength yet for that--if--but where is the use of thinking of it, +hampered, burdened, cursed as I am? Besides, since happiness is +irrevocably denied me, I have a right to get pleasure out of life: and I +_will_ get it, cost what it may." + +"Then you will degenerate still more, sir." + +"Possibly: yet why should I, if I can get sweet, fresh pleasure? And I +may get it as sweet and fresh as the wild honey the bee gathers on the +moor." + +"It will sting--it will taste bitter, sir." + +"How do you know?--you never tried it. How very serious--how very solemn +you look: and you are as ignorant of the matter as this cameo head" +(taking one from the mantelpiece). "You have no right to preach to me, +you neophyte, that have not passed the porch of life, and are absolutely +unacquainted with its mysteries." + +"I only remind you of your own words, sir: you said error brought +remorse, and you pronounced remorse the poison of existence." + +"And who talks of error now? I scarcely think the notion that flittered +across my brain was an error. I believe it was an inspiration rather +than a temptation: it was very genial, very soothing--I know that. Here +it comes again! It is no devil, I assure you; or if it be, it has put on +the robes of an angel of light. I think I must admit so fair a guest +when it asks entrance to my heart." + +"Distrust it, sir; it is not a true angel." + +"Once more, how do you know? By what instinct do you pretend to +distinguish between a fallen seraph of the abyss and a messenger from the +eternal throne--between a guide and a seducer?" + +"I judged by your countenance, sir, which was troubled when you said the +suggestion had returned upon you. I feel sure it will work you more +misery if you listen to it." + +"Not at all--it bears the most gracious message in the world: for the +rest, you are not my conscience-keeper, so don't make yourself uneasy. +Here, come in, bonny wanderer!" + +He said this as if he spoke to a vision, viewless to any eye but his own; +then, folding his arms, which he had half extended, on his chest, he +seemed to enclose in their embrace the invisible being. + +"Now," he continued, again addressing me, "I have received the pilgrim--a +disguised deity, as I verily believe. Already it has done me good: my +heart was a sort of charnel; it will now be a shrine." + +"To speak truth, sir, I don't understand you at all: I cannot keep up the +conversation, because it has got out of my depth. Only one thing, I +know: you said you were not as good as you should like to be, and that +you regretted your own imperfection;--one thing I can comprehend: you +intimated that to have a sullied memory was a perpetual bane. It seems +to me, that if you tried hard, you would in time find it possible to +become what you yourself would approve; and that if from this day you +began with resolution to correct your thoughts and actions, you would in +a few years have laid up a new and stainless store of recollections, to +which you might revert with pleasure." + +"Justly thought; rightly said, Miss Eyre; and, at this moment, I am +paving hell with energy." + +"Sir?" + +"I am laying down good intentions, which I believe durable as flint. +Certainly, my associates and pursuits shall be other than they have +been." + +"And better?" + +"And better--so much better as pure ore is than foul dross. You seem to +doubt me; I don't doubt myself: I know what my aim is, what my motives +are; and at this moment I pass a law, unalterable as that of the Medes +and Persians, that both are right." + +"They cannot be, sir, if they require a new statute to legalise them." + +"They are, Miss Eyre, though they absolutely require a new statute: +unheard-of combinations of circumstances demand unheard-of rules." + +"That sounds a dangerous maxim, sir; because one can see at once that it +is liable to abuse." + +"Sententious sage! so it is: but I swear by my household gods not to +abuse it." + +"You are human and fallible." + +"I am: so are you--what then?" + +"The human and fallible should not arrogate a power with which the divine +and perfect alone can be safely intrusted." + +"What power?" + +"That of saying of any strange, unsanctioned line of action,--'Let it be +right.'" + +"'Let it be right'--the very words: you have pronounced them." + +"_May_ it be right then," I said, as I rose, deeming it useless to +continue a discourse which was all darkness to me; and, besides, sensible +that the character of my interlocutor was beyond my penetration; at +least, beyond its present reach; and feeling the uncertainty, the vague +sense of insecurity, which accompanies a conviction of ignorance. + +"Where are you going?" + +"To put Adele to bed: it is past her bedtime." + +"You are afraid of me, because I talk like a Sphynx." + +"Your language is enigmatical, sir: but though I am bewildered, I am +certainly not afraid." + +"You _are_ afraid--your self-love dreads a blunder." + +"In that sense I do feel apprehensive--I have no wish to talk nonsense." + +"If you did, it would be in such a grave, quiet manner, I should mistake +it for sense. Do you never laugh, Miss Eyre? Don't trouble yourself to +answer--I see you laugh rarely; but you can laugh very merrily: believe +me, you are not naturally austere, any more than I am naturally vicious. +The Lowood constraint still clings to you somewhat; controlling your +features, muffling your voice, and restricting your limbs; and you fear +in the presence of a man and a brother--or father, or master, or what you +will--to smile too gaily, speak too freely, or move too quickly: but, in +time, I think you will learn to be natural with me, as I find it +impossible to be conventional with you; and then your looks and movements +will have more vivacity and variety than they dare offer now. I see at +intervals the glance of a curious sort of bird through the close-set bars +of a cage: a vivid, restless, resolute captive is there; were it but +free, it would soar cloud-high. You are still bent on going?" + +"It has struck nine, sir." + +"Never mind,--wait a minute: Adele is not ready to go to bed yet. My +position, Miss Eyre, with my back to the fire, and my face to the room, +favours observation. While talking to you, I have also occasionally +watched Adele (I have my own reasons for thinking her a curious +study,--reasons that I may, nay, that I shall, impart to you some day). +She pulled out of her box, about ten minutes ago, a little pink silk +frock; rapture lit her face as she unfolded it; coquetry runs in her +blood, blends with her brains, and seasons the marrow of her bones. 'Il +faut que je l'essaie!' cried she, 'et a l'instant meme!' and she rushed +out of the room. She is now with Sophie, undergoing a robing process: in +a few minutes she will re-enter; and I know what I shall see,--a +miniature of Celine Varens, as she used to appear on the boards at the +rising of--But never mind that. However, my tenderest feelings are about +to receive a shock: such is my presentiment; stay now, to see whether it +will be realised." + +Ere long, Adele's little foot was heard tripping across the hall. She +entered, transformed as her guardian had predicted. A dress of +rose-coloured satin, very short, and as full in the skirt as it could be +gathered, replaced the brown frock she had previously worn; a wreath of +rosebuds circled her forehead; her feet were dressed in silk stockings +and small white satin sandals. + +"Est-ce que ma robe va bien?" cried she, bounding forwards; "et mes +souliers? et mes bas? Tenez, je crois que je vais danser!" + +And spreading out her dress, she chasseed across the room till, having +reached Mr. Rochester, she wheeled lightly round before him on tip-toe, +then dropped on one knee at his feet, exclaiming-- + +"Monsieur, je vous remercie mille fois de votre bonte;" then rising, she +added, "C'est comme cela que maman faisait, n'est-ce pas, monsieur?" + +"Pre-cise-ly!" was the answer; "and, 'comme cela,' she charmed my English +gold out of my British breeches' pocket. I have been green, too, Miss +Eyre,--ay, grass green: not a more vernal tint freshens you now than once +freshened me. My Spring is gone, however, but it has left me that French +floweret on my hands, which, in some moods, I would fain be rid of. Not +valuing now the root whence it sprang; having found that it was of a sort +which nothing but gold dust could manure, I have but half a liking to the +blossom, especially when it looks so artificial as just now. I keep it +and rear it rather on the Roman Catholic principle of expiating numerous +sins, great or small, by one good work. I'll explain all this some day. +Good-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Mr. Rochester did, on a future occasion, explain it. It was one +afternoon, when he chanced to meet me and Adele in the grounds: and while +she played with Pilot and her shuttlecock, he asked me to walk up and +down a long beech avenue within sight of her. + +He then said that she was the daughter of a French opera-dancer, Celine +Varens, towards whom he had once cherished what he called a "_grande +passion_." This passion Celine had professed to return with even +superior ardour. He thought himself her idol, ugly as he was: he +believed, as he said, that she preferred his "_taille d'athlete_" to the +elegance of the Apollo Belvidere. + +"And, Miss Eyre, so much was I flattered by this preference of the Gallic +sylph for her British gnome, that I installed her in an hotel; gave her a +complete establishment of servants, a carriage, cashmeres, diamonds, +dentelles, &c. In short, I began the process of ruining myself in the +received style, like any other spoony. I had not, it seems, the +originality to chalk out a new road to shame and destruction, but trode +the old track with stupid exactness not to deviate an inch from the +beaten centre. I had--as I deserved to have--the fate of all other +spoonies. Happening to call one evening when Celine did not expect me, I +found her out; but it was a warm night, and I was tired with strolling +through Paris, so I sat down in her boudoir; happy to breathe the air +consecrated so lately by her presence. No,--I exaggerate; I never +thought there was any consecrating virtue about her: it was rather a sort +of pastille perfume she had left; a scent of musk and amber, than an +odour of sanctity. I was just beginning to stifle with the fumes of +conservatory flowers and sprinkled essences, when I bethought myself to +open the window and step out on to the balcony. It was moonlight and +gaslight besides, and very still and serene. The balcony was furnished +with a chair or two; I sat down, and took out a cigar,--I will take one +now, if you will excuse me." + +Here ensued a pause, filled up by the producing and lighting of a cigar; +having placed it to his lips and breathed a trail of Havannah incense on +the freezing and sunless air, he went on-- + +"I liked bonbons too in those days, Miss Eyre, and I was +_croquant_--(overlook the barbarism)--_croquant_ chocolate comfits, and +smoking alternately, watching meantime the equipages that rolled along +the fashionable streets towards the neighbouring opera-house, when in an +elegant close carriage drawn by a beautiful pair of English horses, and +distinctly seen in the brilliant city-night, I recognised the 'voiture' I +had given Celine. She was returning: of course my heart thumped with +impatience against the iron rails I leant upon. The carriage stopped, as +I had expected, at the hotel door; my flame (that is the very word for an +opera inamorata) alighted: though muffed in a cloak--an unnecessary +encumbrance, by-the-bye, on so warm a June evening--I knew her instantly +by her little foot, seen peeping from the skirt of her dress, as she +skipped from the carriage-step. Bending over the balcony, I was about to +murmur 'Mon ange'--in a tone, of course, which should be audible to the +ear of love alone--when a figure jumped from the carriage after her; +cloaked also; but that was a spurred heel which had rung on the pavement, +and that was a hatted head which now passed under the arched _porte +cochere_ of the hotel. + +"You never felt jealousy, did you, Miss Eyre? Of course not: I need not +ask you; because you never felt love. You have both sentiments yet to +experience: your soul sleeps; the shock is yet to be given which shall +waken it. You think all existence lapses in as quiet a flow as that in +which your youth has hitherto slid away. Floating on with closed eyes +and muffled ears, you neither see the rocks bristling not far off in the +bed of the flood, nor hear the breakers boil at their base. But I tell +you--and you may mark my words--you will come some day to a craggy pass +in the channel, where the whole of life's stream will be broken up into +whirl and tumult, foam and noise: either you will be dashed to atoms on +crag points, or lifted up and borne on by some master-wave into a calmer +current--as I am now. + +"I like this day; I like that sky of steel; I like the sternness and +stillness of the world under this frost. I like Thornfield, its +antiquity, its retirement, its old crow-trees and thorn-trees, its grey +facade, and lines of dark windows reflecting that metal welkin: and yet +how long have I abhorred the very thought of it, shunned it like a great +plague-house? How I do still abhor--" + +He ground his teeth and was silent: he arrested his step and struck his +boot against the hard ground. Some hated thought seemed to have him in +its grip, and to hold him so tightly that he could not advance. + +We were ascending the avenue when he thus paused; the hall was before us. +Lifting his eye to its battlements, he cast over them a glare such as I +never saw before or since. Pain, shame, ire, impatience, disgust, +detestation, seemed momentarily to hold a quivering conflict in the large +pupil dilating under his ebon eyebrow. Wild was the wrestle which should +be paramount; but another feeling rose and triumphed: something hard and +cynical: self-willed and resolute: it settled his passion and petrified +his countenance: he went on-- + +"During the moment I was silent, Miss Eyre, I was arranging a point with +my destiny. She stood there, by that beech-trunk--a hag like one of +those who appeared to Macbeth on the heath of Forres. 'You like +Thornfield?' she said, lifting her finger; and then she wrote in the air +a memento, which ran in lurid hieroglyphics all along the house-front, +between the upper and lower row of windows, 'Like it if you can! Like it +if you dare!' + +"'I will like it,' said I; 'I dare like it;' and" (he subjoined moodily) +"I will keep my word; I will break obstacles to happiness, to +goodness--yes, goodness. I wish to be a better man than I have been, +than I am; as Job's leviathan broke the spear, the dart, and the +habergeon, hindrances which others count as iron and brass, I will esteem +but straw and rotten wood." + +Adele here ran before him with her shuttlecock. "Away!" he cried +harshly; "keep at a distance, child; or go in to Sophie!" Continuing +then to pursue his walk in silence, I ventured to recall him to the point +whence he had abruptly diverged-- + +"Did you leave the balcony, sir," I asked, "when Mdlle. Varens entered?" + +I almost expected a rebuff for this hardly well-timed question, but, on +the contrary, waking out of his scowling abstraction, he turned his eyes +towards me, and the shade seemed to clear off his brow. "Oh, I had +forgotten Celine! Well, to resume. When I saw my charmer thus come in +accompanied by a cavalier, I seemed to hear a hiss, and the green snake +of jealousy, rising on undulating coils from the moonlit balcony, glided +within my waistcoat, and ate its way in two minutes to my heart's core. +Strange!" he exclaimed, suddenly starting again from the point. "Strange +that I should choose you for the confidant of all this, young lady; +passing strange that you should listen to me quietly, as if it were the +most usual thing in the world for a man like me to tell stories of his +opera-mistresses to a quaint, inexperienced girl like you! But the last +singularity explains the first, as I intimated once before: you, with +your gravity, considerateness, and caution were made to be the recipient +of secrets. Besides, I know what sort of a mind I have placed in +communication with my own: I know it is one not liable to take infection: +it is a peculiar mind: it is a unique one. Happily I do not mean to harm +it: but, if I did, it would not take harm from me. The more you and I +converse, the better; for while I cannot blight you, you may refresh me." +After this digression he proceeded-- + +"I remained in the balcony. 'They will come to her boudoir, no doubt,' +thought I: 'let me prepare an ambush.' So putting my hand in through the +open window, I drew the curtain over it, leaving only an opening through +which I could take observations; then I closed the casement, all but a +chink just wide enough to furnish an outlet to lovers' whispered vows: +then I stole back to my chair; and as I resumed it the pair came in. My +eye was quickly at the aperture. Celine's chamber-maid entered, lit a +lamp, left it on the table, and withdrew. The couple were thus revealed +to me clearly: both removed their cloaks, and there was 'the Varens,' +shining in satin and jewels,--my gifts of course,--and there was her +companion in an officer's uniform; and I knew him for a young roue of a +vicomte--a brainless and vicious youth whom I had sometimes met in +society, and had never thought of hating because I despised him so +absolutely. On recognising him, the fang of the snake Jealousy was +instantly broken; because at the same moment my love for Celine sank +under an extinguisher. A woman who could betray me for such a rival was +not worth contending for; she deserved only scorn; less, however, than I, +who had been her dupe. + +"They began to talk; their conversation eased me completely: frivolous, +mercenary, heartless, and senseless, it was rather calculated to weary +than enrage a listener. A card of mine lay on the table; this being +perceived, brought my name under discussion. Neither of them possessed +energy or wit to belabour me soundly, but they insulted me as coarsely as +they could in their little way: especially Celine, who even waxed rather +brilliant on my personal defects--deformities she termed them. Now it +had been her custom to launch out into fervent admiration of what she +called my '_beaute male_:' wherein she differed diametrically from you, +who told me point-blank, at the second interview, that you did not think +me handsome. The contrast struck me at the time and--" + +Adele here came running up again. + +"Monsieur, John has just been to say that your agent has called and +wishes to see you." + +"Ah! in that case I must abridge. Opening the window, I walked in upon +them; liberated Celine from my protection; gave her notice to vacate her +hotel; offered her a purse for immediate exigencies; disregarded screams, +hysterics, prayers, protestations, convulsions; made an appointment with +the vicomte for a meeting at the Bois de Boulogne. Next morning I had +the pleasure of encountering him; left a bullet in one of his poor +etiolated arms, feeble as the wing of a chicken in the pip, and then +thought I had done with the whole crew. But unluckily the Varens, six +months before, had given me this filette Adele, who, she affirmed, was my +daughter; and perhaps she may be, though I see no proofs of such grim +paternity written in her countenance: Pilot is more like me than she. +Some years after I had broken with the mother, she abandoned her child, +and ran away to Italy with a musician or singer. I acknowledged no +natural claim on Adele's part to be supported by me, nor do I now +acknowledge any, for I am not her father; but hearing that she was quite +destitute, I e'en took the poor thing out of the slime and mud of Paris, +and transplanted it here, to grow up clean in the wholesome soil of an +English country garden. Mrs. Fairfax found you to train it; but now you +know that it is the illegitimate offspring of a French opera-girl, you +will perhaps think differently of your post and protegee: you will be +coming to me some day with notice that you have found another place--that +you beg me to look out for a new governess, &c.--Eh?" + +"No: Adele is not answerable for either her mother's faults or yours: I +have a regard for her; and now that I know she is, in a sense, +parentless--forsaken by her mother and disowned by you, sir--I shall +cling closer to her than before. How could I possibly prefer the spoilt +pet of a wealthy family, who would hate her governess as a nuisance, to a +lonely little orphan, who leans towards her as a friend?" + +"Oh, that is the light in which you view it! Well, I must go in now; and +you too: it darkens." + +But I stayed out a few minutes longer with Adele and Pilot--ran a race +with her, and played a game of battledore and shuttlecock. When we went +in, and I had removed her bonnet and coat, I took her on my knee; kept +her there an hour, allowing her to prattle as she liked: not rebuking +even some little freedoms and trivialities into which she was apt to +stray when much noticed, and which betrayed in her a superficiality of +character, inherited probably from her mother, hardly congenial to an +English mind. Still she had her merits; and I was disposed to appreciate +all that was good in her to the utmost. I sought in her countenance and +features a likeness to Mr. Rochester, but found none: no trait, no turn +of expression announced relationship. It was a pity: if she could but +have been proved to resemble him, he would have thought more of her. + +It was not till after I had withdrawn to my own chamber for the night, +that I steadily reviewed the tale Mr. Rochester had told me. As he had +said, there was probably nothing at all extraordinary in the substance of +the narrative itself: a wealthy Englishman's passion for a French dancer, +and her treachery to him, were every-day matters enough, no doubt, in +society; but there was something decidedly strange in the paroxysm of +emotion which had suddenly seized him when he was in the act of +expressing the present contentment of his mood, and his newly revived +pleasure in the old hall and its environs. I meditated wonderingly on +this incident; but gradually quitting it, as I found it for the present +inexplicable, I turned to the consideration of my master's manner to +myself. The confidence he had thought fit to repose in me seemed a +tribute to my discretion: I regarded and accepted it as such. His +deportment had now for some weeks been more uniform towards me than at +the first. I never seemed in his way; he did not take fits of chilling +hauteur: when he met me unexpectedly, the encounter seemed welcome; he +had always a word and sometimes a smile for me: when summoned by formal +invitation to his presence, I was honoured by a cordiality of reception +that made me feel I really possessed the power to amuse him, and that +these evening conferences were sought as much for his pleasure as for my +benefit. + +I, indeed, talked comparatively little, but I heard him talk with relish. +It was his nature to be communicative; he liked to open to a mind +unacquainted with the world glimpses of its scenes and ways (I do not +mean its corrupt scenes and wicked ways, but such as derived their +interest from the great scale on which they were acted, the strange +novelty by which they were characterised); and I had a keen delight in +receiving the new ideas he offered, in imagining the new pictures he +portrayed, and following him in thought through the new regions he +disclosed, never startled or troubled by one noxious allusion. + +The ease of his manner freed me from painful restraint: the friendly +frankness, as correct as cordial, with which he treated me, drew me to +him. I felt at times as if he were my relation rather than my master: +yet he was imperious sometimes still; but I did not mind that; I saw it +was his way. So happy, so gratified did I become with this new interest +added to life, that I ceased to pine after kindred: my thin +crescent-destiny seemed to enlarge; the blanks of existence were filled +up; my bodily health improved; I gathered flesh and strength. + +And was Mr. Rochester now ugly in my eyes? No, reader: gratitude, and +many associations, all pleasurable and genial, made his face the object I +best liked to see; his presence in a room was more cheering than the +brightest fire. Yet I had not forgotten his faults; indeed, I could not, +for he brought them frequently before me. He was proud, sardonic, harsh +to inferiority of every description: in my secret soul I knew that his +great kindness to me was balanced by unjust severity to many others. He +was moody, too; unaccountably so; I more than once, when sent for to read +to him, found him sitting in his library alone, with his head bent on his +folded arms; and, when he looked up, a morose, almost a malignant, scowl +blackened his features. But I believed that his moodiness, his +harshness, and his former faults of morality (I say _former_, for now he +seemed corrected of them) had their source in some cruel cross of fate. I +believed he was naturally a man of better tendencies, higher principles, +and purer tastes than such as circumstances had developed, education +instilled, or destiny encouraged. I thought there were excellent +materials in him; though for the present they hung together somewhat +spoiled and tangled. I cannot deny that I grieved for his grief, +whatever that was, and would have given much to assuage it. + +Though I had now extinguished my candle and was laid down in bed, I could +not sleep for thinking of his look when he paused in the avenue, and told +how his destiny had risen up before him, and dared him to be happy at +Thornfield. + +"Why not?" I asked myself. "What alienates him from the house? Will he +leave it again soon? Mrs. Fairfax said he seldom stayed here longer than +a fortnight at a time; and he has now been resident eight weeks. If he +does go, the change will be doleful. Suppose he should be absent spring, +summer, and autumn: how joyless sunshine and fine days will seem!" + +I hardly know whether I had slept or not after this musing; at any rate, +I started wide awake on hearing a vague murmur, peculiar and lugubrious, +which sounded, I thought, just above me. I wished I had kept my candle +burning: the night was drearily dark; my spirits were depressed. I rose +and sat up in bed, listening. The sound was hushed. + +I tried again to sleep; but my heart beat anxiously: my inward +tranquillity was broken. The clock, far down in the hall, struck two. +Just then it seemed my chamber-door was touched; as if fingers had swept +the panels in groping a way along the dark gallery outside. I said, "Who +is there?" Nothing answered. I was chilled with fear. + +All at once I remembered that it might be Pilot, who, when the kitchen- +door chanced to be left open, not unfrequently found his way up to the +threshold of Mr. Rochester's chamber: I had seen him lying there myself +in the mornings. The idea calmed me somewhat: I lay down. Silence +composes the nerves; and as an unbroken hush now reigned again through +the whole house, I began to feel the return of slumber. But it was not +fated that I should sleep that night. A dream had scarcely approached my +ear, when it fled affrighted, scared by a marrow-freezing incident +enough. + +This was a demoniac laugh--low, suppressed, and deep--uttered, as it +seemed, at the very keyhole of my chamber door. The head of my bed was +near the door, and I thought at first the goblin-laugher stood at my +bedside--or rather, crouched by my pillow: but I rose, looked round, and +could see nothing; while, as I still gazed, the unnatural sound was +reiterated: and I knew it came from behind the panels. My first impulse +was to rise and fasten the bolt; my next, again to cry out, "Who is +there?" + +Something gurgled and moaned. Ere long, steps retreated up the gallery +towards the third-storey staircase: a door had lately been made to shut +in that staircase; I heard it open and close, and all was still. + +"Was that Grace Poole? and is she possessed with a devil?" thought I. +Impossible now to remain longer by myself: I must go to Mrs. Fairfax. I +hurried on my frock and a shawl; I withdrew the bolt and opened the door +with a trembling hand. There was a candle burning just outside, and on +the matting in the gallery. I was surprised at this circumstance: but +still more was I amazed to perceive the air quite dim, as if filled with +smoke; and, while looking to the right hand and left, to find whence +these blue wreaths issued, I became further aware of a strong smell of +burning. + +Something creaked: it was a door ajar; and that door was Mr. Rochester's, +and the smoke rushed in a cloud from thence. I thought no more of Mrs. +Fairfax; I thought no more of Grace Poole, or the laugh: in an instant, I +was within the chamber. Tongues of flame darted round the bed: the +curtains were on fire. In the midst of blaze and vapour, Mr. Rochester +lay stretched motionless, in deep sleep. + +"Wake! wake!" I cried. I shook him, but he only murmured and turned: the +smoke had stupefied him. Not a moment could be lost: the very sheets +were kindling, I rushed to his basin and ewer; fortunately, one was wide +and the other deep, and both were filled with water. I heaved them up, +deluged the bed and its occupant, flew back to my own room, brought my +own water-jug, baptized the couch afresh, and, by God's aid, succeeded in +extinguishing the flames which were devouring it. + +The hiss of the quenched element, the breakage of a pitcher which I flung +from my hand when I had emptied it, and, above all, the splash of the +shower-bath I had liberally bestowed, roused Mr. Rochester at last. +Though it was now dark, I knew he was awake; because I heard him +fulminating strange anathemas at finding himself lying in a pool of +water. + +"Is there a flood?" he cried. + +"No, sir," I answered; "but there has been a fire: get up, do; you are +quenched now; I will fetch you a candle." + +"In the name of all the elves in Christendom, is that Jane Eyre?" he +demanded. "What have you done with me, witch, sorceress? Who is in the +room besides you? Have you plotted to drown me?" + +"I will fetch you a candle, sir; and, in Heaven's name, get up. Somebody +has plotted something: you cannot too soon find out who and what it is." + +"There! I am up now; but at your peril you fetch a candle yet: wait two +minutes till I get into some dry garments, if any dry there be--yes, here +is my dressing-gown. Now run!" + +I did run; I brought the candle which still remained in the gallery. He +took it from my hand, held it up, and surveyed the bed, all blackened and +scorched, the sheets drenched, the carpet round swimming in water. + +"What is it? and who did it?" he asked. I briefly related to him what +had transpired: the strange laugh I had heard in the gallery: the step +ascending to the third storey; the smoke,--the smell of fire which had +conducted me to his room; in what state I had found matters there, and +how I had deluged him with all the water I could lay hands on. + +{"What is it and who did it?" he asked: p140.jpg} + +He listened very gravely; his face, as I went on, expressed more concern +than astonishment; he did not immediately speak when I had concluded. + +"Shall I call Mrs. Fairfax?" I asked. + +"Mrs. Fairfax? No; what the deuce would you call her for? What can she +do? Let her sleep unmolested." + +"Then I will fetch Leah, and wake John and his wife." + +"Not at all: just be still. You have a shawl on. If you are not warm +enough, you may take my cloak yonder; wrap it about you, and sit down in +the arm-chair: there,--I will put it on. Now place your feet on the +stool, to keep them out of the wet. I am going to leave you a few +minutes. I shall take the candle. Remain where you are till I return; +be as still as a mouse. I must pay a visit to the second storey. Don't +move, remember, or call any one." + +He went: I watched the light withdraw. He passed up the gallery very +softly, unclosed the staircase door with as little noise as possible, +shut it after him, and the last ray vanished. I was left in total +darkness. I listened for some noise, but heard nothing. A very long +time elapsed. I grew weary: it was cold, in spite of the cloak; and then +I did not see the use of staying, as I was not to rouse the house. I was +on the point of risking Mr. Rochester's displeasure by disobeying his +orders, when the light once more gleamed dimly on the gallery wall, and I +heard his unshod feet tread the matting. "I hope it is he," thought I, +"and not something worse." + +He re-entered, pale and very gloomy. "I have found it all out," said he, +setting his candle down on the washstand; "it is as I thought." + +"How, sir?" + +He made no reply, but stood with his arms folded, looking on the ground. +At the end of a few minutes he inquired in rather a peculiar tone-- + +"I forget whether you said you saw anything when you opened your chamber +door." + +"No, sir, only the candlestick on the ground." + +"But you heard an odd laugh? You have heard that laugh before, I should +think, or something like it?" + +"Yes, sir: there is a woman who sews here, called Grace Poole,--she +laughs in that way. She is a singular person." + +"Just so. Grace Poole--you have guessed it. She is, as you say, +singular--very. Well, I shall reflect on the subject. Meantime, I am +glad that you are the only person, besides myself, acquainted with the +precise details of to-night's incident. You are no talking fool: say +nothing about it. I will account for this state of affairs" (pointing to +the bed): "and now return to your own room. I shall do very well on the +sofa in the library for the rest of the night. It is near four:--in two +hours the servants will be up." + +"Good-night, then, sir," said I, departing. + +He seemed surprised--very inconsistently so, as he had just told me to +go. + +"What!" he exclaimed, "are you quitting me already, and in that way?" + +"You said I might go, sir." + +"But not without taking leave; not without a word or two of +acknowledgment and good-will: not, in short, in that brief, dry fashion. +Why, you have saved my life!--snatched me from a horrible and +excruciating death! and you walk past me as if we were mutual strangers! +At least shake hands." + +He held out his hand; I gave him mine: he took it first in one, them in +both his own. + +"You have saved my life: I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a +debt. I cannot say more. Nothing else that has being would have been +tolerable to me in the character of creditor for such an obligation: but +you: it is different;--I feel your benefits no burden, Jane." + +He paused; gazed at me: words almost visible trembled on his lips,--but +his voice was checked. + +"Good-night again, sir. There is no debt, benefit, burden, obligation, +in the case." + +"I knew," he continued, "you would do me good in some way, at some +time;--I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you: their expression +and smile did not"--(again he stopped)--"did not" (he proceeded hastily) +"strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing. People talk of +natural sympathies; I have heard of good genii: there are grains of truth +in the wildest fable. My cherished preserver, goodnight!" + +Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look. + +"I am glad I happened to be awake," I said: and then I was going. + +"What! you _will_ go?" + +"I am cold, sir." + +"Cold? Yes,--and standing in a pool! Go, then, Jane; go!" But he still +retained my hand, and I could not free it. I bethought myself of an +expedient. + +"I think I hear Mrs. Fairfax move, sir," said I. + +"Well, leave me:" he relaxed his fingers, and I was gone. + +I regained my couch, but never thought of sleep. Till morning dawned I +was tossed on a buoyant but unquiet sea, where billows of trouble rolled +under surges of joy. I thought sometimes I saw beyond its wild waters a +shore, sweet as the hills of Beulah; and now and then a freshening gale, +wakened by hope, bore my spirit triumphantly towards the bourne: but I +could not reach it, even in fancy--a counteracting breeze blew off land, +and continually drove me back. Sense would resist delirium: judgment +would warn passion. Too feverish to rest, I rose as soon as day dawned. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +I both wished and feared to see Mr. Rochester on the day which followed +this sleepless night: I wanted to hear his voice again, yet feared to +meet his eye. During the early part of the morning, I momentarily +expected his coming; he was not in the frequent habit of entering the +schoolroom, but he did step in for a few minutes sometimes, and I had the +impression that he was sure to visit it that day. + +But the morning passed just as usual: nothing happened to interrupt the +quiet course of Adele's studies; only soon after breakfast, I heard some +bustle in the neighbourhood of Mr. Rochester's chamber, Mrs. Fairfax's +voice, and Leah's, and the cook's--that is, John's wife--and even John's +own gruff tones. There were exclamations of "What a mercy master was not +burnt in his bed!" "It is always dangerous to keep a candle lit at +night." "How providential that he had presence of mind to think of the +water-jug!" "I wonder he waked nobody!" "It is to be hoped he will not +take cold with sleeping on the library sofa," &c. + +To much confabulation succeeded a sound of scrubbing and setting to +rights; and when I passed the room, in going downstairs to dinner, I saw +through the open door that all was again restored to complete order; only +the bed was stripped of its hangings. Leah stood up in the window-seat, +rubbing the panes of glass dimmed with smoke. I was about to address +her, for I wished to know what account had been given of the affair: but, +on advancing, I saw a second person in the chamber--a woman sitting on a +chair by the bedside, and sewing rings to new curtains. That woman was +no other than Grace Poole. + +There she sat, staid and taciturn-looking, as usual, in her brown stuff +gown, her check apron, white handkerchief, and cap. She was intent on +her work, in which her whole thoughts seemed absorbed: on her hard +forehead, and in her commonplace features, was nothing either of the +paleness or desperation one would have expected to see marking the +countenance of a woman who had attempted murder, and whose intended +victim had followed her last night to her lair, and (as I believed), +charged her with the crime she wished to perpetrate. I was +amazed--confounded. She looked up, while I still gazed at her: no start, +no increase or failure of colour betrayed emotion, consciousness of +guilt, or fear of detection. She said "Good morning, Miss," in her usual +phlegmatic and brief manner; and taking up another ring and more tape, +went on with her sewing. + +"I will put her to some test," thought I: "such absolute impenetrability +is past comprehension." + +"Good morning, Grace," I said. "Has anything happened here? I thought I +heard the servants all talking together a while ago." + +"Only master had been reading in his bed last night; he fell asleep with +his candle lit, and the curtains got on fire; but, fortunately, he awoke +before the bed-clothes or the wood-work caught, and contrived to quench +the flames with the water in the ewer." + +"A strange affair!" I said, in a low voice: then, looking at her +fixedly--"Did Mr. Rochester wake nobody? Did no one hear him move?" + +She again raised her eyes to me, and this time there was something of +consciousness in their expression. She seemed to examine me warily; then +she answered-- + +"The servants sleep so far off, you know, Miss, they would not be likely +to hear. Mrs. Fairfax's room and yours are the nearest to master's; but +Mrs. Fairfax said she heard nothing: when people get elderly, they often +sleep heavy." She paused, and then added, with a sort of assumed +indifference, but still in a marked and significant tone--"But you are +young, Miss; and I should say a light sleeper: perhaps you may have heard +a noise?" + +"I did," said I, dropping my voice, so that Leah, who was still polishing +the panes, could not hear me, "and at first I thought it was Pilot: but +Pilot cannot laugh; and I am certain I heard a laugh, and a strange one." + +She took a new needleful of thread, waxed it carefully, threaded her +needle with a steady hand, and then observed, with perfect composure-- + +"It is hardly likely master would laugh, I should think, Miss, when he +was in such danger: You must have been dreaming." + +"I was not dreaming," I said, with some warmth, for her brazen coolness +provoked me. Again she looked at me; and with the same scrutinising and +conscious eye. + +"Have you told master that you heard a laugh?" she inquired. + +"I have not had the opportunity of speaking to him this morning." + +"You did not think of opening your door and looking out into the +gallery?" she further asked. + +She appeared to be cross-questioning me, attempting to draw from me +information unawares. The idea struck me that if she discovered I knew +or suspected her guilt, she would be playing of some of her malignant +pranks on me; I thought it advisable to be on my guard. + +"On the contrary," said I, "I bolted my door." + +"Then you are not in the habit of bolting your door every night before +you get into bed?" + +"Fiend! she wants to know my habits, that she may lay her plans +accordingly!" Indignation again prevailed over prudence: I replied +sharply, "Hitherto I have often omitted to fasten the bolt: I did not +think it necessary. I was not aware any danger or annoyance was to be +dreaded at Thornfield Hall: but in future" (and I laid marked stress on +the words) "I shall take good care to make all secure before I venture to +lie down." + +"It will be wise so to do," was her answer: "this neighbourhood is as +quiet as any I know, and I never heard of the hall being attempted by +robbers since it was a house; though there are hundreds of pounds' worth +of plate in the plate-closet, as is well known. And you see, for such a +large house, there are very few servants, because master has never lived +here much; and when he does come, being a bachelor, he needs little +waiting on: but I always think it best to err on the safe side; a door is +soon fastened, and it is as well to have a drawn bolt between one and any +mischief that may be about. A deal of people, Miss, are for trusting all +to Providence; but I say Providence will not dispense with the means, +though He often blesses them when they are used discreetly." And here +she closed her harangue: a long one for her, and uttered with the +demureness of a Quakeress. + +I still stood absolutely dumfoundered at what appeared to me her +miraculous self-possession and most inscrutable hypocrisy, when the cook +entered. + +"Mrs. Poole," said she, addressing Grace, "the servants' dinner will soon +be ready: will you come down?" + +"No; just put my pint of porter and bit of pudding on a tray, and I'll +carry it upstairs." + +"You'll have some meat?" + +"Just a morsel, and a taste of cheese, that's all." + +"And the sago?" + +"Never mind it at present: I shall be coming down before teatime: I'll +make it myself." + +The cook here turned to me, saying that Mrs. Fairfax was waiting for me: +so I departed. + +I hardly heard Mrs. Fairfax's account of the curtain conflagration during +dinner, so much was I occupied in puzzling my brains over the enigmatical +character of Grace Poole, and still more in pondering the problem of her +position at Thornfield and questioning why she had not been given into +custody that morning, or, at the very least, dismissed from her master's +service. He had almost as much as declared his conviction of her +criminality last night: what mysterious cause withheld him from accusing +her? Why had he enjoined me, too, to secrecy? It was strange: a bold, +vindictive, and haughty gentleman seemed somehow in the power of one of +the meanest of his dependants; so much in her power, that even when she +lifted her hand against his life, he dared not openly charge her with the +attempt, much less punish her for it. + +Had Grace been young and handsome, I should have been tempted to think +that tenderer feelings than prudence or fear influenced Mr. Rochester in +her behalf; but, hard-favoured and matronly as she was, the idea could +not be admitted. "Yet," I reflected, "she has been young once; her youth +would be contemporary with her master's: Mrs. Fairfax told me once, she +had lived here many years. I don't think she can ever have been pretty; +but, for aught I know, she may possess originality and strength of +character to compensate for the want of personal advantages. Mr. +Rochester is an amateur of the decided and eccentric: Grace is eccentric +at least. What if a former caprice (a freak very possible to a nature so +sudden and headstrong as his) has delivered him into her power, and she +now exercises over his actions a secret influence, the result of his own +indiscretion, which he cannot shake off, and dare not disregard?" But, +having reached this point of conjecture, Mrs. Poole's square, flat +figure, and uncomely, dry, even coarse face, recurred so distinctly to my +mind's eye, that I thought, "No; impossible! my supposition cannot be +correct. Yet," suggested the secret voice which talks to us in our own +hearts, "you are not beautiful either, and perhaps Mr. Rochester approves +you: at any rate, you have often felt as if he did; and last +night--remember his words; remember his look; remember his voice!" + +I well remembered all; language, glance, and tone seemed at the moment +vividly renewed. I was now in the schoolroom; Adele was drawing; I bent +over her and directed her pencil. She looked up with a sort of start. + +"Qu' avez-vous, mademoiselle?" said she. "Vos doigts tremblent comme la +feuille, et vos joues sont rouges: mais, rouges comme des cerises!" + +"I am hot, Adele, with stooping!" She went on sketching; I went on +thinking. + +I hastened to drive from my mind the hateful notion I had been conceiving +respecting Grace Poole; it disgusted me. I compared myself with her, and +found we were different. Bessie Leaven had said I was quite a lady; and +she spoke truth--I was a lady. And now I looked much better than I did +when Bessie saw me; I had more colour and more flesh, more life, more +vivacity, because I had brighter hopes and keener enjoyments. + +"Evening approaches," said I, as I looked towards the window. "I have +never heard Mr. Rochester's voice or step in the house to-day; but surely +I shall see him before night: I feared the meeting in the morning; now I +desire it, because expectation has been so long baffled that it is grown +impatient." + +When dusk actually closed, and when Adele left me to go and play in the +nursery with Sophie, I did most keenly desire it. I listened for the +bell to ring below; I listened for Leah coming up with a message; I +fancied sometimes I heard Mr. Rochester's own tread, and I turned to the +door, expecting it to open and admit him. The door remained shut; +darkness only came in through the window. Still it was not late; he +often sent for me at seven and eight o'clock, and it was yet but six. +Surely I should not be wholly disappointed to-night, when I had so many +things to say to him! I wanted again to introduce the subject of Grace +Poole, and to hear what he would answer; I wanted to ask him plainly if +he really believed it was she who had made last night's hideous attempt; +and if so, why he kept her wickedness a secret. It little mattered +whether my curiosity irritated him; I knew the pleasure of vexing and +soothing him by turns; it was one I chiefly delighted in, and a sure +instinct always prevented me from going too far; beyond the verge of +provocation I never ventured; on the extreme brink I liked well to try my +skill. Retaining every minute form of respect, every propriety of my +station, I could still meet him in argument without fear or uneasy +restraint; this suited both him and me. + +A tread creaked on the stairs at last. Leah made her appearance; but it +was only to intimate that tea was ready in Mrs. Fairfax's room. Thither +I repaired, glad at least to go downstairs; for that brought me, I +imagined, nearer to Mr. Rochester's presence. + +"You must want your tea," said the good lady, as I joined her; "you ate +so little at dinner. I am afraid," she continued, "you are not well to- +day: you look flushed and feverish." + +"Oh, quite well! I never felt better." + +"Then you must prove it by evincing a good appetite; will you fill the +teapot while I knit off this needle?" Having completed her task, she +rose to draw down the blind, which she had hitherto kept up, by way, I +suppose, of making the most of daylight, though dusk was now fast +deepening into total obscurity. + +"It is fair to-night," said she, as she looked through the panes, "though +not starlight; Mr. Rochester has, on the whole, had a favourable day for +his journey." + +"Journey!--Is Mr. Rochester gone anywhere? I did not know he was out." + +"Oh, he set off the moment he had breakfasted! He is gone to the Leas, +Mr. Eshton's place, ten miles on the other side Millcote. I believe +there is quite a party assembled there; Lord Ingram, Sir George Lynn, +Colonel Dent, and others." + +"Do you expect him back to-night?" + +"No--nor to-morrow either; I should think he is very likely to stay a +week or more: when these fine, fashionable people get together, they are +so surrounded by elegance and gaiety, so well provided with all that can +please and entertain, they are in no hurry to separate. Gentlemen +especially are often in request on such occasions; and Mr. Rochester is +so talented and so lively in society, that I believe he is a general +favourite: the ladies are very fond of him; though you would not think +his appearance calculated to recommend him particularly in their eyes: +but I suppose his acquirements and abilities, perhaps his wealth and good +blood, make amends for any little fault of look." + +"Are there ladies at the Leas?" + +"There are Mrs. Eshton and her three daughters--very elegant young ladies +indeed; and there are the Honourable Blanche and Mary Ingram, most +beautiful women, I suppose: indeed I have seen Blanche, six or seven +years since, when she was a girl of eighteen. She came here to a +Christmas ball and party Mr. Rochester gave. You should have seen the +dining-room that day--how richly it was decorated, how brilliantly lit +up! I should think there were fifty ladies and gentlemen present--all of +the first county families; and Miss Ingram was considered the belle of +the evening." + +"You saw her, you say, Mrs. Fairfax: what was she like?" + +"Yes, I saw her. The dining-room doors were thrown open; and, as it was +Christmas-time, the servants were allowed to assemble in the hall, to +hear some of the ladies sing and play. Mr. Rochester would have me to +come in, and I sat down in a quiet corner and watched them. I never saw +a more splendid scene: the ladies were magnificently dressed; most of +them--at least most of the younger ones--looked handsome; but Miss Ingram +was certainly the queen." + +"And what was she like?" + +"Tall, fine bust, sloping shoulders; long, graceful neck: olive +complexion, dark and clear; noble features; eyes rather like Mr. +Rochester's: large and black, and as brilliant as her jewels. And then +she had such a fine head of hair; raven-black and so becomingly arranged: +a crown of thick plaits behind, and in front the longest, the glossiest +curls I ever saw. She was dressed in pure white; an amber-coloured scarf +was passed over her shoulder and across her breast, tied at the side, and +descending in long, fringed ends below her knee. She wore an +amber-coloured flower, too, in her hair: it contrasted well with the +jetty mass of her curls." + +"She was greatly admired, of course?" + +"Yes, indeed: and not only for her beauty, but for her accomplishments. +She was one of the ladies who sang: a gentleman accompanied her on the +piano. She and Mr. Rochester sang a duet." + +"Mr. Rochester? I was not aware he could sing." + +"Oh! he has a fine bass voice, and an excellent taste for music." + +"And Miss Ingram: what sort of a voice had she?" + +"A very rich and powerful one: she sang delightfully; it was a treat to +listen to her;--and she played afterwards. I am no judge of music, but +Mr. Rochester is; and I heard him say her execution was remarkably good." + +"And this beautiful and accomplished lady, she is not yet married?" + +"It appears not: I fancy neither she nor her sister have very large +fortunes. Old Lord Ingram's estates were chiefly entailed, and the +eldest son came in for everything almost." + +"But I wonder no wealthy nobleman or gentleman has taken a fancy to her: +Mr. Rochester, for instance. He is rich, is he not?" + +"Oh! yes. But you see there is a considerable difference in age: Mr. +Rochester is nearly forty; she is but twenty-five." + +"What of that? More unequal matches are made every day." + +"True: yet I should scarcely fancy Mr. Rochester would entertain an idea +of the sort. But you eat nothing: you have scarcely tasted since you +began tea." + +"No: I am too thirsty to eat. Will you let me have another cup?" + +I was about again to revert to the probability of a union between Mr. +Rochester and the beautiful Blanche; but Adele came in, and the +conversation was turned into another channel. + +When once more alone, I reviewed the information I had got; looked into +my heart, examined its thoughts and feelings, and endeavoured to bring +back with a strict hand such as had been straying through imagination's +boundless and trackless waste, into the safe fold of common sense. + +Arraigned at my own bar, Memory having given her evidence of the hopes, +wishes, sentiments I had been cherishing since last night--of the general +state of mind in which I had indulged for nearly a fortnight past; Reason +having come forward and told, in her own quiet way a plain, unvarnished +tale, showing how I had rejected the real, and rabidly devoured the +ideal;--I pronounced judgment to this effect:-- + +That a greater fool than Jane Eyre had never breathed the breath of life; +that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself on sweet lies, +and swallowed poison as if it were nectar. + +"_You_," I said, "a favourite with Mr. Rochester? _You_ gifted with the +power of pleasing him? _You_ of importance to him in any way? Go! your +folly sickens me. And you have derived pleasure from occasional tokens +of preference--equivocal tokens shown by a gentleman of family and a man +of the world to a dependent and a novice. How dared you? Poor stupid +dupe!--Could not even self-interest make you wiser? You repeated to +yourself this morning the brief scene of last night?--Cover your face and +be ashamed! He said something in praise of your eyes, did he? Blind +puppy! Open their bleared lids and look on your own accursed +senselessness! It does good to no woman to be flattered by her superior, +who cannot possibly intend to marry her; and it is madness in all women +to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if unreturned and +unknown, must devour the life that feeds it; and, if discovered and +responded to, must lead, _ignis-fatus_-like, into miry wilds whence there +is no extrication. + +"Listen, then, Jane Eyre, to your sentence: to-morrow, place the glass +before you, and draw in chalk your own picture, faithfully, without +softening one defect; omit no harsh line, smooth away no displeasing +irregularity; write under it, 'Portrait of a Governess, disconnected, +poor, and plain.' + +"Afterwards, take a piece of smooth ivory--you have one prepared in your +drawing-box: take your palette, mix your freshest, finest, clearest +tints; choose your most delicate camel-hair pencils; delineate carefully +the loveliest face you can imagine; paint it in your softest shades and +sweetest lines, according to the description given by Mrs. Fairfax of +Blanche Ingram; remember the raven ringlets, the oriental eye;--What! you +revert to Mr. Rochester as a model! Order! No snivel!--no sentiment!--no +regret! I will endure only sense and resolution. Recall the august yet +harmonious lineaments, the Grecian neck and bust; let the round and +dazzling arm be visible, and the delicate hand; omit neither diamond ring +nor gold bracelet; portray faithfully the attire, aerial lace and +glistening satin, graceful scarf and golden rose; call it 'Blanche, an +accomplished lady of rank.' + +"Whenever, in future, you should chance to fancy Mr. Rochester thinks +well of you, take out these two pictures and compare them: say, 'Mr. +Rochester might probably win that noble lady's love, if he chose to +strive for it; is it likely he would waste a serious thought on this +indigent and insignificant plebeian?'" + +"I'll do it," I resolved: and having framed this determination, I grew +calm, and fell asleep. + +I kept my word. An hour or two sufficed to sketch my own portrait in +crayons; and in less than a fortnight I had completed an ivory miniature +of an imaginary Blanche Ingram. It looked a lovely face enough, and when +compared with the real head in chalk, the contrast was as great as self- +control could desire. I derived benefit from the task: it had kept my +head and hands employed, and had given force and fixedness to the new +impressions I wished to stamp indelibly on my heart. + +Ere long, I had reason to congratulate myself on the course of wholesome +discipline to which I had thus forced my feelings to submit. Thanks to +it, I was able to meet subsequent occurrences with a decent calm, which, +had they found me unprepared, I should probably have been unequal to +maintain, even externally. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +A week passed, and no news arrived of Mr. Rochester: ten days, and still +he did not come. Mrs. Fairfax said she should not be surprised if he +were to go straight from the Leas to London, and thence to the Continent, +and not show his face again at Thornfield for a year to come; he had not +unfrequently quitted it in a manner quite as abrupt and unexpected. When +I heard this, I was beginning to feel a strange chill and failing at the +heart. I was actually permitting myself to experience a sickening sense +of disappointment; but rallying my wits, and recollecting my principles, +I at once called my sensations to order; and it was wonderful how I got +over the temporary blunder--how I cleared up the mistake of supposing Mr. +Rochester's movements a matter in which I had any cause to take a vital +interest. Not that I humbled myself by a slavish notion of inferiority: +on the contrary, I just said-- + +"You have nothing to do with the master of Thornfield, further than to +receive the salary he gives you for teaching his protegee, and to be +grateful for such respectful and kind treatment as, if you do your duty, +you have a right to expect at his hands. Be sure that is the only tie he +seriously acknowledges between you and him; so don't make him the object +of your fine feelings, your raptures, agonies, and so forth. He is not +of your order: keep to your caste, and be too self-respecting to lavish +the love of the whole heart, soul, and strength, where such a gift is not +wanted and would be despised." + +I went on with my day's business tranquilly; but ever and anon vague +suggestions kept wandering across my brain of reasons why I should quit +Thornfield; and I kept involuntarily framing advertisements and pondering +conjectures about new situations: these thoughts I did not think to +check; they might germinate and bear fruit if they could. + +Mr. Rochester had been absent upwards of a fortnight, when the post +brought Mrs. Fairfax a letter. + +"It is from the master," said she, as she looked at the direction. "Now +I suppose we shall know whether we are to expect his return or not." + +And while she broke the seal and perused the document, I went on taking +my coffee (we were at breakfast): it was hot, and I attributed to that +circumstance a fiery glow which suddenly rose to my face. Why my hand +shook, and why I involuntarily spilt half the contents of my cup into my +saucer, I did not choose to consider. + +"Well, I sometimes think we are too quiet; but we run a chance of being +busy enough now: for a little while at least," said Mrs. Fairfax, still +holding the note before her spectacles. + +Ere I permitted myself to request an explanation, I tied the string of +Adele's pinafore, which happened to be loose: having helped her also to +another bun and refilled her mug with milk, I said, nonchalantly-- + +"Mr. Rochester is not likely to return soon, I suppose?" + +"Indeed he is--in three days, he says: that will be next Thursday; and +not alone either. I don't know how many of the fine people at the Leas +are coming with him: he sends directions for all the best bedrooms to be +prepared; and the library and drawing-rooms are to be cleaned out; I am +to get more kitchen hands from the George Inn, at Millcote, and from +wherever else I can; and the ladies will bring their maids and the +gentlemen their valets: so we shall have a full house of it." And Mrs. +Fairfax swallowed her breakfast and hastened away to commence operations. + +The three days were, as she had foretold, busy enough. I had thought all +the rooms at Thornfield beautifully clean and well arranged; but it +appears I was mistaken. Three women were got to help; and such +scrubbing, such brushing, such washing of paint and beating of carpets, +such taking down and putting up of pictures, such polishing of mirrors +and lustres, such lighting of fires in bedrooms, such airing of sheets +and feather-beds on hearths, I never beheld, either before or since. +Adele ran quite wild in the midst of it: the preparations for company and +the prospect of their arrival, seemed to throw her into ecstasies. She +would have Sophie to look over all her "toilettes," as she called frocks; +to furbish up any that were "_passees_," and to air and arrange the new. +For herself, she did nothing but caper about in the front chambers, jump +on and off the bedsteads, and lie on the mattresses and piled-up bolsters +and pillows before the enormous fires roaring in the chimneys. From +school duties she was exonerated: Mrs. Fairfax had pressed me into her +service, and I was all day in the storeroom, helping (or hindering) her +and the cook; learning to make custards and cheese-cakes and French +pastry, to truss game and garnish desert-dishes. + +The party were expected to arrive on Thursday afternoon, in time for +dinner at six. During the intervening period I had no time to nurse +chimeras; and I believe I was as active and gay as anybody--Adele +excepted. Still, now and then, I received a damping check to my +cheerfulness; and was, in spite of myself, thrown back on the region of +doubts and portents, and dark conjectures. This was when I chanced to +see the third-storey staircase door (which of late had always been kept +locked) open slowly, and give passage to the form of Grace Poole, in prim +cap, white apron, and handkerchief; when I watched her glide along the +gallery, her quiet tread muffled in a list slipper; when I saw her look +into the bustling, topsy-turvy bedrooms,--just say a word, perhaps, to +the charwoman about the proper way to polish a grate, or clean a marble +mantelpiece, or take stains from papered walls, and then pass on. She +would thus descend to the kitchen once a day, eat her dinner, smoke a +moderate pipe on the hearth, and go back, carrying her pot of porter with +her, for her private solace, in her own gloomy, upper haunt. Only one +hour in the twenty-four did she pass with her fellow-servants below; all +the rest of her time was spent in some low-ceiled, oaken chamber of the +second storey: there she sat and sewed--and probably laughed drearily to +herself,--as companionless as a prisoner in his dungeon. + +The strangest thing of all was, that not a soul in the house, except me, +noticed her habits, or seemed to marvel at them: no one discussed her +position or employment; no one pitied her solitude or isolation. I once, +indeed, overheard part of a dialogue between Leah and one of the +charwomen, of which Grace formed the subject. Leah had been saying +something I had not caught, and the charwoman remarked-- + +"She gets good wages, I guess?" + +"Yes," said Leah; "I wish I had as good; not that mine are to complain +of,--there's no stinginess at Thornfield; but they're not one fifth of +the sum Mrs. Poole receives. And she is laying by: she goes every +quarter to the bank at Millcote. I should not wonder but she has saved +enough to keep her independent if she liked to leave; but I suppose she's +got used to the place; and then she's not forty yet, and strong and able +for anything. It is too soon for her to give up business." + +"She is a good hand, I daresay," said the charwoman. + +"Ah!--she understands what she has to do,--nobody better," rejoined Leah +significantly; "and it is not every one could fill her shoes--not for all +the money she gets." + +"That it is not!" was the reply. "I wonder whether the master--" + +The charwoman was going on; but here Leah turned and perceived me, and +she instantly gave her companion a nudge. + +"Doesn't she know?" I heard the woman whisper. + +Leah shook her head, and the conversation was of course dropped. All I +had gathered from it amounted to this,--that there was a mystery at +Thornfield; and that from participation in that mystery I was purposely +excluded. + +Thursday came: all work had been completed the previous evening; carpets +were laid down, bed-hangings festooned, radiant white counterpanes +spread, toilet tables arranged, furniture rubbed, flowers piled in vases: +both chambers and saloons looked as fresh and bright as hands could make +them. The hall, too, was scoured; and the great carved clock, as well as +the steps and banisters of the staircase, were polished to the brightness +of glass; in the dining-room, the sideboard flashed resplendent with +plate; in the drawing-room and boudoir, vases of exotics bloomed on all +sides. + +Afternoon arrived: Mrs. Fairfax assumed her best black satin gown, her +gloves, and her gold watch; for it was her part to receive the +company,--to conduct the ladies to their rooms, &c. Adele, too, would be +dressed: though I thought she had little chance of being introduced to +the party that day at least. However, to please her, I allowed Sophie to +apparel her in one of her short, full muslin frocks. For myself, I had +no need to make any change; I should not be called upon to quit my +sanctum of the schoolroom; for a sanctum it was now become to me,--"a +very pleasant refuge in time of trouble." + +It had been a mild, serene spring day--one of those days which, towards +the end of March or the beginning of April, rise shining over the earth +as heralds of summer. It was drawing to an end now; but the evening was +even warm, and I sat at work in the schoolroom with the window open. + +"It gets late," said Mrs. Fairfax, entering in rustling state. "I am +glad I ordered dinner an hour after the time Mr. Rochester mentioned; for +it is past six now. I have sent John down to the gates to see if there +is anything on the road: one can see a long way from thence in the +direction of Millcote." She went to the window. "Here he is!" said she. +"Well, John" (leaning out), "any news?" + +"They're coming, ma'am," was the answer. "They'll be here in ten +minutes." + +Adele flew to the window. I followed, taking care to stand on one side, +so that, screened by the curtain, I could see without being seen. + +The ten minutes John had given seemed very long, but at last wheels were +heard; four equestrians galloped up the drive, and after them came two +open carriages. Fluttering veils and waving plumes filled the vehicles; +two of the cavaliers were young, dashing-looking gentlemen; the third was +Mr. Rochester, on his black horse, Mesrour, Pilot bounding before him; at +his side rode a lady, and he and she were the first of the party. Her +purple riding-habit almost swept the ground, her veil streamed long on +the breeze; mingling with its transparent folds, and gleaming through +them, shone rich raven ringlets. + +"Miss Ingram!" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax, and away she hurried to her post +below. + +The cavalcade, following the sweep of the drive, quickly turned the angle +of the house, and I lost sight of it. Adele now petitioned to go down; +but I took her on my knee, and gave her to understand that she must not +on any account think of venturing in sight of the ladies, either now or +at any other time, unless expressly sent for: that Mr. Rochester would be +very angry, &c. "Some natural tears she shed" on being told this; but as +I began to look very grave, she consented at last to wipe them. + +A joyous stir was now audible in the hall: gentlemen's deep tones and +ladies' silvery accents blent harmoniously together, and distinguishable +above all, though not loud, was the sonorous voice of the master of +Thornfield Hall, welcoming his fair and gallant guests under its roof. +Then light steps ascended the stairs; and there was a tripping through +the gallery, and soft cheerful laughs, and opening and closing doors, +and, for a time, a hush. + +"Elles changent de toilettes," said Adele; who, listening attentively, +had followed every movement; and she sighed. + +"Chez maman," said she, "quand il y avait du monde, je le suivais +partout, au salon et a leurs chambres; souvent je regardais les femmes de +chambre coiffer et habiller les dames, et c'etait si amusant: comme cela +on apprend." + +"Don't you feel hungry, Adele?" + +"Mais oui, mademoiselle: voila cinq ou six heures que nous n'avons pas +mange." + +"Well now, while the ladies are in their rooms, I will venture down and +get you something to eat." + +And issuing from my asylum with precaution, I sought a back-stairs which +conducted directly to the kitchen. All in that region was fire and +commotion; the soup and fish were in the last stage of projection, and +the cook hung over her crucibles in a frame of mind and body threatening +spontaneous combustion. In the servants' hall two coachmen and three +gentlemen's gentlemen stood or sat round the fire; the abigails, I +suppose, were upstairs with their mistresses; the new servants, that had +been hired from Millcote, were bustling about everywhere. Threading this +chaos, I at last reached the larder; there I took possession of a cold +chicken, a roll of bread, some tarts, a plate or two and a knife and +fork: with this booty I made a hasty retreat. I had regained the +gallery, and was just shutting the back-door behind me, when an +accelerated hum warned me that the ladies were about to issue from their +chambers. I could not proceed to the schoolroom without passing some of +their doors, and running the risk of being surprised with my cargo of +victualage; so I stood still at this end, which, being windowless, was +dark: quite dark now, for the sun was set and twilight gathering. + +Presently the chambers gave up their fair tenants one after another: each +came out gaily and airily, with dress that gleamed lustrous through the +dusk. For a moment they stood grouped together at the other extremity of +the gallery, conversing in a key of sweet subdued vivacity: they then +descended the staircase almost as noiselessly as a bright mist rolls down +a hill. Their collective appearance had left on me an impression of high- +born elegance, such as I had never before received. + +I found Adele peeping through the schoolroom door, which she held ajar. +"What beautiful ladies!" cried she in English. "Oh, I wish I might go to +them! Do you think Mr. Rochester will send for us by-and-bye, after +dinner?" + +"No, indeed, I don't; Mr. Rochester has something else to think about. +Never mind the ladies to-night; perhaps you will see them to-morrow: here +is your dinner." + +She was really hungry, so the chicken and tarts served to divert her +attention for a time. It was well I secured this forage, or both she, I, +and Sophie, to whom I conveyed a share of our repast, would have run a +chance of getting no dinner at all: every one downstairs was too much +engaged to think of us. The dessert was not carried out till after nine +and at ten footmen were still running to and fro with trays and coffee- +cups. I allowed Adele to sit up much later than usual; for she declared +she could not possibly go to sleep while the doors kept opening and +shutting below, and people bustling about. Besides, she added, a message +might possibly come from Mr. Rochester when she was undressed; "et alors +quel dommage!" + +I told her stories as long as she would listen to them; and then for a +change I took her out into the gallery. The hall lamp was now lit, and +it amused her to look over the balustrade and watch the servants passing +backwards and forwards. When the evening was far advanced, a sound of +music issued from the drawing-room, whither the piano had been removed; +Adele and I sat down on the top step of the stairs to listen. Presently +a voice blent with the rich tones of the instrument; it was a lady who +sang, and very sweet her notes were. The solo over, a duet followed, and +then a glee: a joyous conversational murmur filled up the intervals. I +listened long: suddenly I discovered that my ear was wholly intent on +analysing the mingled sounds, and trying to discriminate amidst the +confusion of accents those of Mr. Rochester; and when it caught them, +which it soon did, it found a further task in framing the tones, rendered +by distance inarticulate, into words. + +The clock struck eleven. I looked at Adele, whose head leant against my +shoulder; her eyes were waxing heavy, so I took her up in my arms and +carried her off to bed. It was near one before the gentlemen and ladies +sought their chambers. + +The next day was as fine as its predecessor: it was devoted by the party +to an excursion to some site in the neighbourhood. They set out early in +the forenoon, some on horseback, the rest in carriages; I witnessed both +the departure and the return. Miss Ingram, as before, was the only lady +equestrian; and, as before, Mr. Rochester galloped at her side; the two +rode a little apart from the rest. I pointed out this circumstance to +Mrs. Fairfax, who was standing at the window with me-- + +"You said it was not likely they should think of being married," said I, +"but you see Mr. Rochester evidently prefers her to any of the other +ladies." + +"Yes, I daresay: no doubt he admires her." + +"And she him," I added; "look how she leans her head towards him as if +she were conversing confidentially; I wish I could see her face; I have +never had a glimpse of it yet." + +"You will see her this evening," answered Mrs. Fairfax. "I happened to +remark to Mr. Rochester how much Adele wished to be introduced to the +ladies, and he said: 'Oh! let her come into the drawing-room after +dinner; and request Miss Eyre to accompany her.'" + +"Yes; he said that from mere politeness: I need not go, I am sure," I +answered. + +"Well, I observed to him that as you were unused to company, I did not +think you would like appearing before so gay a party--all strangers; and +he replied, in his quick way--'Nonsense! If she objects, tell her it is +my particular wish; and if she resists, say I shall come and fetch her in +case of contumacy.'" + +"I will not give him that trouble," I answered. "I will go, if no better +may be; but I don't like it. Shall you be there, Mrs. Fairfax?" + +"No; I pleaded off, and he admitted my plea. I'll tell you how to manage +so as to avoid the embarrassment of making a formal entrance, which is +the most disagreeable part of the business. You must go into the drawing- +room while it is empty, before the ladies leave the dinner-table; choose +your seat in any quiet nook you like; you need not stay long after the +gentlemen come in, unless you please: just let Mr. Rochester see you are +there and then slip away--nobody will notice you." + +"Will these people remain long, do you think?" + +"Perhaps two or three weeks, certainly not more. After the Easter +recess, Sir George Lynn, who was lately elected member for Millcote, will +have to go up to town and take his seat; I daresay Mr. Rochester will +accompany him: it surprises me that he has already made so protracted a +stay at Thornfield." + +It was with some trepidation that I perceived the hour approach when I +was to repair with my charge to the drawing-room. Adele had been in a +state of ecstasy all day, after hearing she was to be presented to the +ladies in the evening; and it was not till Sophie commenced the operation +of dressing her that she sobered down. Then the importance of the +process quickly steadied her, and by the time she had her curls arranged +in well-smoothed, drooping clusters, her pink satin frock put on, her +long sash tied, and her lace mittens adjusted, she looked as grave as any +judge. No need to warn her not to disarrange her attire: when she was +dressed, she sat demurely down in her little chair, taking care +previously to lift up the satin skirt for fear she should crease it, and +assured me she would not stir thence till I was ready. This I quickly +was: my best dress (the silver-grey one, purchased for Miss Temple's +wedding, and never worn since) was soon put on; my hair was soon +smoothed; my sole ornament, the pearl brooch, soon assumed. We +descended. + +Fortunately there was another entrance to the drawing-room than that +through the saloon where they were all seated at dinner. We found the +apartment vacant; a large fire burning silently on the marble hearth, and +wax candles shining in bright solitude, amid the exquisite flowers with +which the tables were adorned. The crimson curtain hung before the arch: +slight as was the separation this drapery formed from the party in the +adjoining saloon, they spoke in so low a key that nothing of their +conversation could be distinguished beyond a soothing murmur. + +Adele, who appeared to be still under the influence of a most solemnising +impression, sat down, without a word, on the footstool I pointed out to +her. I retired to a window-seat, and taking a book from a table near, +endeavoured to read. Adele brought her stool to my feet; ere long she +touched my knee. + +"What is it, Adele?" + +"Est-ce que je ne puis pas prendrie une seule de ces fleurs magnifiques, +mademoiselle? Seulement pour completer ma toilette." + +"You think too much of your 'toilette,' Adele: but you may have a +flower." And I took a rose from a vase and fastened it in her sash. She +sighed a sigh of ineffable satisfaction, as if her cup of happiness were +now full. I turned my face away to conceal a smile I could not suppress: +there was something ludicrous as well as painful in the little +Parisienne's earnest and innate devotion to matters of dress. + +A soft sound of rising now became audible; the curtain was swept back +from the arch; through it appeared the dining-room, with its lit lustre +pouring down light on the silver and glass of a magnificent +dessert-service covering a long table; a band of ladies stood in the +opening; they entered, and the curtain fell behind them. + +There were but eight; yet, somehow, as they flocked in, they gave the +impression of a much larger number. Some of them were very tall; many +were dressed in white; and all had a sweeping amplitude of array that +seemed to magnify their persons as a mist magnifies the moon. I rose and +curtseyed to them: one or two bent their heads in return, the others only +stared at me. + +They dispersed about the room, reminding me, by the lightness and +buoyancy of their movements, of a flock of white plumy birds. Some of +them threw themselves in half-reclining positions on the sofas and +ottomans: some bent over the tables and examined the flowers and books: +the rest gathered in a group round the fire: all talked in a low but +clear tone which seemed habitual to them. I knew their names afterwards, +and may as well mention them now. + +First, there was Mrs. Eshton and two of her daughters. She had evidently +been a handsome woman, and was well preserved still. Of her daughters, +the eldest, Amy, was rather little: naive, and child-like in face and +manner, and piquant in form; her white muslin dress and blue sash became +her well. The second, Louisa, was taller and more elegant in figure; +with a very pretty face, of that order the French term _minois chiffone_: +both sisters were fair as lilies. + +Lady Lynn was a large and stout personage of about forty, very erect, +very haughty-looking, richly dressed in a satin robe of changeful sheen: +her dark hair shone glossily under the shade of an azure plume, and +within the circlet of a band of gems. + +Mrs. Colonel Dent was less showy; but, I thought, more lady-like. She +had a slight figure, a pale, gentle face, and fair hair. Her black satin +dress, her scarf of rich foreign lace, and her pearl ornaments, pleased +me better than the rainbow radiance of the titled dame. + +But the three most distinguished--partly, perhaps, because the tallest +figures of the band--were the Dowager Lady Ingram and her daughters, +Blanche and Mary. They were all three of the loftiest stature of women. +The Dowager might be between forty and fifty: her shape was still fine; +her hair (by candle-light at least) still black; her teeth, too, were +still apparently perfect. Most people would have termed her a splendid +woman of her age: and so she was, no doubt, physically speaking; but then +there was an expression of almost insupportable haughtiness in her +bearing and countenance. She had Roman features and a double chin, +disappearing into a throat like a pillar: these features appeared to me +not only inflated and darkened, but even furrowed with pride; and the +chin was sustained by the same principle, in a position of almost +preternatural erectness. She had, likewise, a fierce and a hard eye: it +reminded me of Mrs. Reed's; she mouthed her words in speaking; her voice +was deep, its inflections very pompous, very dogmatical,--very +intolerable, in short. A crimson velvet robe, and a shawl turban of some +gold-wrought Indian fabric, invested her (I suppose she thought) with a +truly imperial dignity. + +Blanche and Mary were of equal stature,--straight and tall as poplars. +Mary was too slim for her height, but Blanche was moulded like a Dian. I +regarded her, of course, with special interest. First, I wished to see +whether her appearance accorded with Mrs. Fairfax's description; +secondly, whether it at all resembled the fancy miniature I had painted +of her; and thirdly--it will out!--whether it were such as I should fancy +likely to suit Mr. Rochester's taste. + +As far as person went, she answered point for point, both to my picture +and Mrs. Fairfax's description. The noble bust, the sloping shoulders, +the graceful neck, the dark eyes and black ringlets were all there;--but +her face? Her face was like her mother's; a youthful unfurrowed +likeness: the same low brow, the same high features, the same pride. It +was not, however, so saturnine a pride! she laughed continually; her +laugh was satirical, and so was the habitual expression of her arched and +haughty lip. + +Genius is said to be self-conscious. I cannot tell whether Miss Ingram +was a genius, but she was self-conscious--remarkably self-conscious +indeed. She entered into a discourse on botany with the gentle Mrs. +Dent. It seemed Mrs. Dent had not studied that science: though, as she +said, she liked flowers, "especially wild ones;" Miss Ingram had, and she +ran over its vocabulary with an air. I presently perceived she was (what +is vernacularly termed) _trailing_ Mrs. Dent; that is, playing on her +ignorance--her _trail_ might be clever, but it was decidedly not good- +natured. She played: her execution was brilliant; she sang: her voice +was fine; she talked French apart to her mamma; and she talked it well, +with fluency and with a good accent. + +Mary had a milder and more open countenance than Blanche; softer features +too, and a skin some shades fairer (Miss Ingram was dark as a +Spaniard)--but Mary was deficient in life: her face lacked expression, +her eye lustre; she had nothing to say, and having once taken her seat, +remained fixed like a statue in its niche. The sisters were both attired +in spotless white. + +And did I now think Miss Ingram such a choice as Mr. Rochester would be +likely to make? I could not tell--I did not know his taste in female +beauty. If he liked the majestic, she was the very type of majesty: then +she was accomplished, sprightly. Most gentlemen would admire her, I +thought; and that he _did_ admire her, I already seemed to have obtained +proof: to remove the last shade of doubt, it remained but to see them +together. + +You are not to suppose, reader, that Adele has all this time been sitting +motionless on the stool at my feet: no; when the ladies entered, she +rose, advanced to meet them, made a stately reverence, and said with +gravity-- + +"Bon jour, mesdames." + +And Miss Ingram had looked down at her with a mocking air, and exclaimed, +"Oh, what a little puppet!" + +Lady Lynn had remarked, "It is Mr. Rochester's ward, I suppose--the +little French girl he was speaking of." + +Mrs. Dent had kindly taken her hand, and given her a kiss. + +Amy and Louisa Eshton had cried out simultaneously--"What a love of a +child!" + +And then they had called her to a sofa, where she now sat, ensconced +between them, chattering alternately in French and broken English; +absorbing not only the young ladies' attention, but that of Mrs. Eshton +and Lady Lynn, and getting spoilt to her heart's content. + +At last coffee is brought in, and the gentlemen are summoned. I sit in +the shade--if any shade there be in this brilliantly-lit apartment; the +window-curtain half hides me. Again the arch yawns; they come. The +collective appearance of the gentlemen, like that of the ladies, is very +imposing: they are all costumed in black; most of them are tall, some +young. Henry and Frederick Lynn are very dashing sparks indeed; and +Colonel Dent is a fine soldierly man. Mr. Eshton, the magistrate of the +district, is gentleman-like: his hair is quite white, his eyebrows and +whiskers still dark, which gives him something of the appearance of a +"pere noble de theatre." Lord Ingram, like his sisters, is very tall; +like them, also, he is handsome; but he shares Mary's apathetic and +listless look: he seems to have more length of limb than vivacity of +blood or vigour of brain. + +And where is Mr. Rochester? + +He comes in last: I am not looking at the arch, yet I see him enter. I +try to concentrate my attention on those netting-needles, on the meshes +of the purse I am forming--I wish to think only of the work I have in my +hands, to see only the silver beads and silk threads that lie in my lap; +whereas, I distinctly behold his figure, and I inevitably recall the +moment when I last saw it; just after I had rendered him, what he deemed, +an essential service, and he, holding my hand, and looking down on my +face, surveyed me with eyes that revealed a heart full and eager to +overflow; in whose emotions I had a part. How near had I approached him +at that moment! What had occurred since, calculated to change his and my +relative positions? Yet now, how distant, how far estranged we were! So +far estranged, that I did not expect him to come and speak to me. I did +not wonder, when, without looking at me, he took a seat at the other side +of the room, and began conversing with some of the ladies. + +No sooner did I see that his attention was riveted on them, and that I +might gaze without being observed, than my eyes were drawn involuntarily +to his face; I could not keep their lids under control: they would rise, +and the irids would fix on him. I looked, and had an acute pleasure in +looking,--a precious yet poignant pleasure; pure gold, with a steely +point of agony: a pleasure like what the thirst-perishing man might feel +who knows the well to which he has crept is poisoned, yet stoops and +drinks divine draughts nevertheless. + +Most true is it that "beauty is in the eye of the gazer." My master's +colourless, olive face, square, massive brow, broad and jetty eyebrows, +deep eyes, strong features, firm, grim mouth,--all energy, decision, +will,--were not beautiful, according to rule; but they were more than +beautiful to me; they were full of an interest, an influence that quite +mastered me,--that took my feelings from my own power and fettered them +in his. I had not intended to love him; the reader knows I had wrought +hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, +at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously arrived, green and +strong! He made me love him without looking at me. + +I compared him with his guests. What was the gallant grace of the Lynns, +the languid elegance of Lord Ingram,--even the military distinction of +Colonel Dent, contrasted with his look of native pith and genuine power? +I had no sympathy in their appearance, their expression: yet I could +imagine that most observers would call them attractive, handsome, +imposing; while they would pronounce Mr. Rochester at once harsh-featured +and melancholy-looking. I saw them smile, laugh--it was nothing; the +light of the candles had as much soul in it as their smile; the tinkle of +the bell as much significance as their laugh. I saw Mr. Rochester +smile:--his stern features softened; his eye grew both brilliant and +gentle, its ray both searching and sweet. He was talking, at the moment, +to Louisa and Amy Eshton. I wondered to see them receive with calm that +look which seemed to me so penetrating: I expected their eyes to fall, +their colour to rise under it; yet I was glad when I found they were in +no sense moved. "He is not to them what he is to me," I thought: "he is +not of their kind. I believe he is of mine;--I am sure he is--I feel +akin to him--I understand the language of his countenance and movements: +though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and +heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him. Did +I say, a few days since, that I had nothing to do with him but to receive +my salary at his hands? Did I forbid myself to think of him in any other +light than as a paymaster? Blasphemy against nature! Every good, true, +vigorous feeling I have gathers impulsively round him. I know I must +conceal my sentiments: I must smother hope; I must remember that he +cannot care much for me. For when I say that I am of his kind, I do not +mean that I have his force to influence, and his spell to attract; I mean +only that I have certain tastes and feelings in common with him. I must, +then, repeat continually that we are for ever sundered:--and yet, while I +breathe and think, I must love him." + +Coffee is handed. The ladies, since the gentlemen entered, have become +lively as larks; conversation waxes brisk and merry. Colonel Dent and +Mr. Eshton argue on politics; their wives listen. The two proud +dowagers, Lady Lynn and Lady Ingram, confabulate together. Sir +George--whom, by-the-bye, I have forgotten to describe,--a very big, and +very fresh-looking country gentleman, stands before their sofa, coffee- +cup in hand, and occasionally puts in a word. Mr. Frederick Lynn has +taken a seat beside Mary Ingram, and is showing her the engravings of a +splendid volume: she looks, smiles now and then, but apparently says +little. The tall and phlegmatic Lord Ingram leans with folded arms on +the chair-back of the little and lively Amy Eshton; she glances up at +him, and chatters like a wren: she likes him better than she does Mr. +Rochester. Henry Lynn has taken possession of an ottoman at the feet of +Louisa: Adele shares it with him: he is trying to talk French with her, +and Louisa laughs at his blunders. With whom will Blanche Ingram pair? +She is standing alone at the table, bending gracefully over an album. She +seems waiting to be sought; but she will not wait too long: she herself +selects a mate. + +Mr. Rochester, having quitted the Eshtons, stands on the hearth as +solitary as she stands by the table: she confronts him, taking her +station on the opposite side of the mantelpiece. + +"Mr. Rochester, I thought you were not fond of children?" + +"Nor am I." + +"Then, what induced you to take charge of such a little doll as that?" +(pointing to Adele). "Where did you pick her up?" + +"I did not pick her up; she was left on my hands." + +"You should have sent her to school." + +"I could not afford it: schools are so dear." + +"Why, I suppose you have a governess for her: I saw a person with her +just now--is she gone? Oh, no! there she is still, behind the window- +curtain. You pay her, of course; I should think it quite as +expensive,--more so; for you have them both to keep in addition." + +I feared--or should I say, hoped?--the allusion to me would make Mr. +Rochester glance my way; and I involuntarily shrank farther into the +shade: but he never turned his eyes. + +"I have not considered the subject," said he indifferently, looking +straight before him. + +"No, you men never do consider economy and common sense. You should hear +mama on the chapter of governesses: Mary and I have had, I should think, +a dozen at least in our day; half of them detestable and the rest +ridiculous, and all incubi--were they not, mama?" + +"Did you speak, my own?" + +The young lady thus claimed as the dowager's special property, reiterated +her question with an explanation. + +"My dearest, don't mention governesses; the word makes me nervous. I +have suffered a martyrdom from their incompetency and caprice. I thank +Heaven I have now done with them!" + +Mrs. Dent here bent over to the pious lady and whispered something in her +ear; I suppose, from the answer elicited, it was a reminder that one of +the anathematised race was present. + +"Tant pis!" said her Ladyship, "I hope it may do her good!" Then, in a +lower tone, but still loud enough for me to hear, "I noticed her; I am a +judge of physiognomy, and in hers I see all the faults of her class." + +"What are they, madam?" inquired Mr. Rochester aloud. + +"I will tell you in your private ear," replied she, wagging her turban +three times with portentous significancy. + +"But my curiosity will be past its appetite; it craves food now." + +"Ask Blanche; she is nearer you than I." + +"Oh, don't refer him to me, mama! I have just one word to say of the +whole tribe; they are a nuisance. Not that I ever suffered much from +them; I took care to turn the tables. What tricks Theodore and I used to +play on our Miss Wilsons, and Mrs. Greys, and Madame Jouberts! Mary was +always too sleepy to join in a plot with spirit. The best fun was with +Madame Joubert: Miss Wilson was a poor sickly thing, lachrymose and low- +spirited, not worth the trouble of vanquishing, in short; and Mrs. Grey +was coarse and insensible; no blow took effect on her. But poor Madame +Joubert! I see her yet in her raging passions, when we had driven her to +extremities--spilt our tea, crumbled our bread and butter, tossed our +books up to the ceiling, and played a charivari with the ruler and desk, +the fender and fire-irons. Theodore, do you remember those merry days?" + +"Yaas, to be sure I do," drawled Lord Ingram; "and the poor old stick +used to cry out 'Oh you villains childs!'--and then we sermonised her on +the presumption of attempting to teach such clever blades as we were, +when she was herself so ignorant." + +"We did; and, Tedo, you know, I helped you in prosecuting (or +persecuting) your tutor, whey-faced Mr. Vining--the parson in the pip, as +we used to call him. He and Miss Wilson took the liberty of falling in +love with each other--at least Tedo and I thought so; we surprised sundry +tender glances and sighs which we interpreted as tokens of 'la belle +passion,' and I promise you the public soon had the benefit of our +discovery; we employed it as a sort of lever to hoist our dead-weights +from the house. Dear mama, there, as soon as she got an inkling of the +business, found out that it was of an immoral tendency. Did you not, my +lady-mother?" + +"Certainly, my best. And I was quite right: depend on that: there are a +thousand reasons why liaisons between governesses and tutors should never +be tolerated a moment in any well-regulated house; firstly--" + +"Oh, gracious, mama! Spare us the enumeration! _Au reste_, we all know +them: danger of bad example to innocence of childhood; distractions and +consequent neglect of duty on the part of the attached--mutual alliance +and reliance; confidence thence resulting--insolence accompanying--mutiny +and general blow-up. Am I right, Baroness Ingram, of Ingram Park?" + +"My lily-flower, you are right now, as always." + +"Then no more need be said: change the subject." + +Amy Eshton, not hearing or not heeding this dictum, joined in with her +soft, infantine tone: "Louisa and I used to quiz our governess too; but +she was such a good creature, she would bear anything: nothing put her +out. She was never cross with us; was she, Louisa?" + +"No, never: we might do what we pleased; ransack her desk and her +workbox, and turn her drawers inside out; and she was so good-natured, +she would give us anything we asked for." + +"I suppose, now," said Miss Ingram, curling her lip sarcastically, "we +shall have an abstract of the memoirs of all the governesses extant: in +order to avert such a visitation, I again move the introduction of a new +topic. Mr. Rochester, do you second my motion?" + +"Madam, I support you on this point, as on every other." + +"Then on me be the onus of bringing it forward. Signior Eduardo, are you +in voice to-night?" + +"Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be." + +"Then, signior, I lay on you my sovereign behest to furbish up your lungs +and other vocal organs, as they will be wanted on my royal service." + +"Who would not be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?" + +"A fig for Rizzio!" cried she, tossing her head with all its curls, as +she moved to the piano. "It is my opinion the fiddler David must have +been an insipid sort of fellow; I like black Bothwell better: to my mind +a man is nothing without a spice of the devil in him; and history may say +what it will of James Hepburn, but I have a notion, he was just the sort +of wild, fierce, bandit hero whom I could have consented to gift with my +hand." + +"Gentlemen, you hear! Now which of you most resembles Bothwell?" cried +Mr. Rochester. + +"I should say the preference lies with you," responded Colonel Dent. + +"On my honour, I am much obliged to you," was the reply. + +Miss Ingram, who had now seated herself with proud grace at the piano, +spreading out her snowy robes in queenly amplitude, commenced a brilliant +prelude; talking meantime. She appeared to be on her high horse +to-night; both her words and her air seemed intended to excite not only +the admiration, but the amazement of her auditors: she was evidently bent +on striking them as something very dashing and daring indeed. + +"Oh, I am so sick of the young men of the present day!" exclaimed she, +rattling away at the instrument. "Poor, puny things, not fit to stir a +step beyond papa's park gates: nor to go even so far without mama's +permission and guardianship! Creatures so absorbed in care about their +pretty faces, and their white hands, and their small feet; as if a man +had anything to do with beauty! As if loveliness were not the special +prerogative of woman--her legitimate appanage and heritage! I grant an +ugly _woman_ is a blot on the fair face of creation; but as to the +_gentlemen_, let them be solicitous to possess only strength and valour: +let their motto be:--Hunt, shoot, and fight: the rest is not worth a +fillip. Such should be my device, were I a man." + +"Whenever I marry," she continued after a pause which none interrupted, +"I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me. I will +suffer no competitor near the throne; I shall exact an undivided homage: +his devotions shall not be shared between me and the shape he sees in his +mirror. Mr. Rochester, now sing, and I will play for you." + +"I am all obedience," was the response. + +"Here then is a Corsair-song. Know that I doat on Corsairs; and for that +reason, sing it _con spirito_." + +"Commands from Miss Ingram's lips would put spirit into a mug of milk and +water." + +"Take care, then: if you don't please me, I will shame you by showing how +such things _should_ be done." + +"That is offering a premium on incapacity: I shall now endeavour to +fail." + +"Gardez-vous en bien! If you err wilfully, I shall devise a +proportionate punishment." + +"Miss Ingram ought to be clement, for she has it in her power to inflict +a chastisement beyond mortal endurance." + +"Ha! explain!" commanded the lady. + +"Pardon me, madam: no need of explanation; your own fine sense must +inform you that one of your frowns would be a sufficient substitute for +capital punishment." + +"Sing!" said she, and again touching the piano, she commenced an +accompaniment in spirited style. + +"Now is my time to slip away," thought I: but the tones that then severed +the air arrested me. Mrs. Fairfax had said Mr. Rochester possessed a +fine voice: he did--a mellow, powerful bass, into which he threw his own +feeling, his own force; finding a way through the ear to the heart, and +there waking sensation strangely. I waited till the last deep and full +vibration had expired--till the tide of talk, checked an instant, had +resumed its flow; I then quitted my sheltered corner and made my exit by +the side-door, which was fortunately near. Thence a narrow passage led +into the hall: in crossing it, I perceived my sandal was loose; I stopped +to tie it, kneeling down for that purpose on the mat at the foot of the +staircase. I heard the dining-room door unclose; a gentleman came out; +rising hastily, I stood face to face with him: it was Mr. Rochester. + +"How do you do?" he asked. + +"I am very well, sir." + +"Why did you not come and speak to me in the room?" + +I thought I might have retorted the question on him who put it: but I +would not take that freedom. I answered-- + +"I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir." + +"What have you been doing during my absence?" + +"Nothing particular; teaching Adele as usual." + +"And getting a good deal paler than you were--as I saw at first sight. +What is the matter?" + +"Nothing at all, sir." + +"Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me?" + +"Not the least." + +"Return to the drawing-room: you are deserting too early." + +"I am tired, sir." + +He looked at me for a minute. + +"And a little depressed," he said. "What about? Tell me." + +"Nothing--nothing, sir. I am not depressed." + +"But I affirm that you are: so much depressed that a few more words would +bring tears to your eyes--indeed, they are there now, shining and +swimming; and a bead has slipped from the lash and fallen on to the flag. +If I had time, and was not in mortal dread of some prating prig of a +servant passing, I would know what all this means. Well, to-night I +excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors stay, I expect you +to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it is my wish; don't neglect +it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adele. Good-night, my--" He stopped, +bit his lip, and abruptly left me. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Merry days were these at Thornfield Hall; and busy days too: how +different from the first three months of stillness, monotony, and +solitude I had passed beneath its roof! All sad feelings seemed now +driven from the house, all gloomy associations forgotten: there was life +everywhere, movement all day long. You could not now traverse the +gallery, once so hushed, nor enter the front chambers, once so +tenantless, without encountering a smart lady's-maid or a dandy valet. + +The kitchen, the butler's pantry, the servants' hall, the entrance hall, +were equally alive; and the saloons were only left void and still when +the blue sky and halcyon sunshine of the genial spring weather called +their occupants out into the grounds. Even when that weather was broken, +and continuous rain set in for some days, no damp seemed cast over +enjoyment: indoor amusements only became more lively and varied, in +consequence of the stop put to outdoor gaiety. + +I wondered what they were going to do the first evening a change of +entertainment was proposed: they spoke of "playing charades," but in my +ignorance I did not understand the term. The servants were called in, +the dining-room tables wheeled away, the lights otherwise disposed, the +chairs placed in a semicircle opposite the arch. While Mr. Rochester and +the other gentlemen directed these alterations, the ladies were running +up and down stairs ringing for their maids. Mrs. Fairfax was summoned to +give information respecting the resources of the house in shawls, +dresses, draperies of any kind; and certain wardrobes of the third storey +were ransacked, and their contents, in the shape of brocaded and hooped +petticoats, satin sacques, black modes, lace lappets, &c., were brought +down in armfuls by the abigails; then a selection was made, and such +things as were chosen were carried to the boudoir within the +drawing-room. + +Meantime, Mr. Rochester had again summoned the ladies round him, and was +selecting certain of their number to be of his party. "Miss Ingram is +mine, of course," said he: afterwards he named the two Misses Eshton, and +Mrs. Dent. He looked at me: I happened to be near him, as I had been +fastening the clasp of Mrs. Dent's bracelet, which had got loose. + +"Will you play?" he asked. I shook my head. He did not insist, which I +rather feared he would have done; he allowed me to return quietly to my +usual seat. + +He and his aids now withdrew behind the curtain: the other party, which +was headed by Colonel Dent, sat down on the crescent of chairs. One of +the gentlemen, Mr. Eshton, observing me, seemed to propose that I should +be asked to join them; but Lady Ingram instantly negatived the notion. + +"No," I heard her say: "she looks too stupid for any game of the sort." + +Ere long a bell tinkled, and the curtain drew up. Within the arch, the +bulky figure of Sir George Lynn, whom Mr. Rochester had likewise chosen, +was seen enveloped in a white sheet: before him, on a table, lay open a +large book; and at his side stood Amy Eshton, draped in Mr. Rochester's +cloak, and holding a book in her hand. Somebody, unseen, rang the bell +merrily; then Adele (who had insisted on being one of her guardian's +party), bounded forward, scattering round her the contents of a basket of +flowers she carried on her arm. Then appeared the magnificent figure of +Miss Ingram, clad in white, a long veil on her head, and a wreath of +roses round her brow; by her side walked Mr. Rochester, and together they +drew near the table. They knelt; while Mrs. Dent and Louisa Eshton, +dressed also in white, took up their stations behind them. A ceremony +followed, in dumb show, in which it was easy to recognise the pantomime +of a marriage. At its termination, Colonel Dent and his party consulted +in whispers for two minutes, then the Colonel called out-- + +"Bride!" Mr. Rochester bowed, and the curtain fell. + +A considerable interval elapsed before it again rose. Its second rising +displayed a more elaborately prepared scene than the last. The drawing- +room, as I have before observed, was raised two steps above the dining- +room, and on the top of the upper step, placed a yard or two back within +the room, appeared a large marble basin--which I recognised as an +ornament of the conservatory--where it usually stood, surrounded by +exotics, and tenanted by gold fish--and whence it must have been +transported with some trouble, on account of its size and weight. + +Seated on the carpet, by the side of this basin, was seen Mr. Rochester, +costumed in shawls, with a turban on his head. His dark eyes and swarthy +skin and Paynim features suited the costume exactly: he looked the very +model of an Eastern emir, an agent or a victim of the bowstring. +Presently advanced into view Miss Ingram. She, too, was attired in +oriental fashion: a crimson scarf tied sash-like round the waist: an +embroidered handkerchief knotted about her temples; her +beautifully-moulded arms bare, one of them upraised in the act of +supporting a pitcher, poised gracefully on her head. Both her cast of +form and feature, her complexion and her general air, suggested the idea +of some Israelitish princess of the patriarchal days; and such was +doubtless the character she intended to represent. + +She approached the basin, and bent over it as if to fill her pitcher; she +again lifted it to her head. The personage on the well-brink now seemed +to accost her; to make some request:--"She hasted, let down her pitcher +on her hand, and gave him to drink." From the bosom of his robe he then +produced a casket, opened it and showed magnificent bracelets and +earrings; she acted astonishment and admiration; kneeling, he laid the +treasure at her feet; incredulity and delight were expressed by her looks +and gestures; the stranger fastened the bracelets on her arms and the +rings in her ears. It was Eliezer and Rebecca: the camels only were +wanting. + +The divining party again laid their heads together: apparently they could +not agree about the word or syllable the scene illustrated. Colonel +Dent, their spokesman, demanded "the tableau of the whole;" whereupon the +curtain again descended. + +On its third rising only a portion of the drawing-room was disclosed; the +rest being concealed by a screen, hung with some sort of dark and coarse +drapery. The marble basin was removed; in its place, stood a deal table +and a kitchen chair: these objects were visible by a very dim light +proceeding from a horn lantern, the wax candles being all extinguished. + +Amidst this sordid scene, sat a man with his clenched hands resting on +his knees, and his eyes bent on the ground. I knew Mr. Rochester; though +the begrimed face, the disordered dress (his coat hanging loose from one +arm, as if it had been almost torn from his back in a scuffle), the +desperate and scowling countenance, the rough, bristling hair might well +have disguised him. As he moved, a chain clanked; to his wrists were +attached fetters. + +"Bridewell!" exclaimed Colonel Dent, and the charade was solved. + +A sufficient interval having elapsed for the performers to resume their +ordinary costume, they re-entered the dining-room. Mr. Rochester led in +Miss Ingram; she was complimenting him on his acting. + +"Do you know," said she, "that, of the three characters, I liked you in +the last best? Oh, had you but lived a few years earlier, what a gallant +gentleman-highwayman you would have made!" + +"Is all the soot washed from my face?" he asked, turning it towards her. + +"Alas! yes: the more's the pity! Nothing could be more becoming to your +complexion than that ruffian's rouge." + +"You would like a hero of the road then?" + +"An English hero of the road would be the next best thing to an Italian +bandit; and that could only be surpassed by a Levantine pirate." + +"Well, whatever I am, remember you are my wife; we were married an hour +since, in the presence of all these witnesses." She giggled, and her +colour rose. + +"Now, Dent," continued Mr. Rochester, "it is your turn." And as the +other party withdrew, he and his band took the vacated seats. Miss +Ingram placed herself at her leader's right hand; the other diviners +filled the chairs on each side of him and her. I did not now watch the +actors; I no longer waited with interest for the curtain to rise; my +attention was absorbed by the spectators; my eyes, erewhile fixed on the +arch, were now irresistibly attracted to the semicircle of chairs. What +charade Colonel Dent and his party played, what word they chose, how they +acquitted themselves, I no longer remember; but I still see the +consultation which followed each scene: I see Mr. Rochester turn to Miss +Ingram, and Miss Ingram to him; I see her incline her head towards him, +till the jetty curls almost touch his shoulder and wave against his +cheek; I hear their mutual whisperings; I recall their interchanged +glances; and something even of the feeling roused by the spectacle +returns in memory at this moment. + +I have told you, reader, that I had learnt to love Mr. Rochester: I could +not unlove him now, merely because I found that he had ceased to notice +me--because I might pass hours in his presence, and he would never once +turn his eyes in my direction--because I saw all his attentions +appropriated by a great lady, who scorned to touch me with the hem of her +robes as she passed; who, if ever her dark and imperious eye fell on me +by chance, would withdraw it instantly as from an object too mean to +merit observation. I could not unlove him, because I felt sure he would +soon marry this very lady--because I read daily in her a proud security +in his intentions respecting her--because I witnessed hourly in him a +style of courtship which, if careless and choosing rather to be sought +than to seek, was yet, in its very carelessness, captivating, and in its +very pride, irresistible. + +There was nothing to cool or banish love in these circumstances, though +much to create despair. Much too, you will think, reader, to engender +jealousy: if a woman, in my position, could presume to be jealous of a +woman in Miss Ingram's. But I was not jealous: or very rarely;--the +nature of the pain I suffered could not be explained by that word. Miss +Ingram was a mark beneath jealousy: she was too inferior to excite the +feeling. Pardon the seeming paradox; I mean what I say. She was very +showy, but she was not genuine: she had a fine person, many brilliant +attainments; but her mind was poor, her heart barren by nature: nothing +bloomed spontaneously on that soil; no unforced natural fruit delighted +by its freshness. She was not good; she was not original: she used to +repeat sounding phrases from books: she never offered, nor had, an +opinion of her own. She advocated a high tone of sentiment; but she did +not know the sensations of sympathy and pity; tenderness and truth were +not in her. Too often she betrayed this, by the undue vent she gave to a +spiteful antipathy she had conceived against little Adele: pushing her +away with some contumelious epithet if she happened to approach her; +sometimes ordering her from the room, and always treating her with +coldness and acrimony. Other eyes besides mine watched these +manifestations of character--watched them closely, keenly, shrewdly. Yes; +the future bridegroom, Mr. Rochester himself, exercised over his intended +a ceaseless surveillance; and it was from this sagacity--this guardedness +of his--this perfect, clear consciousness of his fair one's defects--this +obvious absence of passion in his sentiments towards her, that my ever- +torturing pain arose. + +I saw he was going to marry her, for family, perhaps political reasons, +because her rank and connections suited him; I felt he had not given her +his love, and that her qualifications were ill adapted to win from him +that treasure. This was the point--this was where the nerve was touched +and teased--this was where the fever was sustained and fed: _she could +not charm him_. + +If she had managed the victory at once, and he had yielded and sincerely +laid his heart at her feet, I should have covered my face, turned to the +wall, and (figuratively) have died to them. If Miss Ingram had been a +good and noble woman, endowed with force, fervour, kindness, sense, I +should have had one vital struggle with two tigers--jealousy and despair: +then, my heart torn out and devoured, I should have admired +her--acknowledged her excellence, and been quiet for the rest of my days: +and the more absolute her superiority, the deeper would have been my +admiration--the more truly tranquil my quiescence. But as matters really +stood, to watch Miss Ingram's efforts at fascinating Mr. Rochester, to +witness their repeated failure--herself unconscious that they did fail; +vainly fancying that each shaft launched hit the mark, and infatuatedly +pluming herself on success, when her pride and self-complacency repelled +further and further what she wished to allure--to witness _this_, was to +be at once under ceaseless excitation and ruthless restraint. + +Because, when she failed, I saw how she might have succeeded. Arrows +that continually glanced off from Mr. Rochester's breast and fell +harmless at his feet, might, I knew, if shot by a surer hand, have +quivered keen in his proud heart--have called love into his stern eye, +and softness into his sardonic face; or, better still, without weapons a +silent conquest might have been won. + +"Why can she not influence him more, when she is privileged to draw so +near to him?" I asked myself. "Surely she cannot truly like him, or not +like him with true affection! If she did, she need not coin her smiles +so lavishly, flash her glances so unremittingly, manufacture airs so +elaborate, graces so multitudinous. It seems to me that she might, by +merely sitting quietly at his side, saying little and looking less, get +nigher his heart. I have seen in his face a far different expression +from that which hardens it now while she is so vivaciously accosting him; +but then it came of itself: it was not elicited by meretricious arts and +calculated manoeuvres; and one had but to accept it--to answer what he +asked without pretension, to address him when needful without grimace--and +it increased and grew kinder and more genial, and warmed one like a +fostering sunbeam. How will she manage to please him when they are +married? I do not think she will manage it; and yet it might be managed; +and his wife might, I verily believe, be the very happiest woman the sun +shines on." + +I have not yet said anything condemnatory of Mr. Rochester's project of +marrying for interest and connections. It surprised me when I first +discovered that such was his intention: I had thought him a man unlikely +to be influenced by motives so commonplace in his choice of a wife; but +the longer I considered the position, education, &c., of the parties, the +less I felt justified in judging and blaming either him or Miss Ingram +for acting in conformity to ideas and principles instilled into them, +doubtless, from their childhood. All their class held these principles: +I supposed, then, they had reasons for holding them such as I could not +fathom. It seemed to me that, were I a gentleman like him, I would take +to my bosom only such a wife as I could love; but the very obviousness of +the advantages to the husband's own happiness offered by this plan +convinced me that there must be arguments against its general adoption of +which I was quite ignorant: otherwise I felt sure all the world would act +as I wished to act. + +But in other points, as well as this, I was growing very lenient to my +master: I was forgetting all his faults, for which I had once kept a +sharp look-out. It had formerly been my endeavour to study all sides of +his character: to take the bad with the good; and from the just weighing +of both, to form an equitable judgment. Now I saw no bad. The sarcasm +that had repelled, the harshness that had startled me once, were only +like keen condiments in a choice dish: their presence was pungent, but +their absence would be felt as comparatively insipid. And as for the +vague something--was it a sinister or a sorrowful, a designing or a +desponding expression?--that opened upon a careful observer, now and +then, in his eye, and closed again before one could fathom the strange +depth partially disclosed; that something which used to make me fear and +shrink, as if I had been wandering amongst volcanic-looking hills, and +had suddenly felt the ground quiver and seen it gape: that something, I, +at intervals, beheld still; and with throbbing heart, but not with +palsied nerves. Instead of wishing to shun, I longed only to dare--to +divine it; and I thought Miss Ingram happy, because one day she might +look into the abyss at her leisure, explore its secrets and analyse their +nature. + +Meantime, while I thought only of my master and his future bride--saw +only them, heard only their discourse, and considered only their +movements of importance--the rest of the party were occupied with their +own separate interests and pleasures. The Ladies Lynn and Ingram +continued to consort in solemn conferences, where they nodded their two +turbans at each other, and held up their four hands in confronting +gestures of surprise, or mystery, or horror, according to the theme on +which their gossip ran, like a pair of magnified puppets. Mild Mrs. Dent +talked with good-natured Mrs. Eshton; and the two sometimes bestowed a +courteous word or smile on me. Sir George Lynn, Colonel Dent, and Mr. +Eshton discussed politics, or county affairs, or justice business. Lord +Ingram flirted with Amy Eshton; Louisa played and sang to and with one of +the Messrs. Lynn; and Mary Ingram listened languidly to the gallant +speeches of the other. Sometimes all, as with one consent, suspended +their by-play to observe and listen to the principal actors: for, after +all, Mr. Rochester and--because closely connected with him--Miss Ingram +were the life and soul of the party. If he was absent from the room an +hour, a perceptible dulness seemed to steal over the spirits of his +guests; and his re-entrance was sure to give a fresh impulse to the +vivacity of conversation. + +The want of his animating influence appeared to be peculiarly felt one +day that he had been summoned to Millcote on business, and was not likely +to return till late. The afternoon was wet: a walk the party had +proposed to take to see a gipsy camp, lately pitched on a common beyond +Hay, was consequently deferred. Some of the gentlemen were gone to the +stables: the younger ones, together with the younger ladies, were playing +billiards in the billiard-room. The dowagers Ingram and Lynn sought +solace in a quiet game at cards. Blanche Ingram, after having repelled, +by supercilious taciturnity, some efforts of Mrs. Dent and Mrs. Eshton to +draw her into conversation, had first murmured over some sentimental +tunes and airs on the piano, and then, having fetched a novel from the +library, had flung herself in haughty listlessness on a sofa, and +prepared to beguile, by the spell of fiction, the tedious hours of +absence. The room and the house were silent: only now and then the +merriment of the billiard-players was heard from above. + +It was verging on dusk, and the clock had already given warning of the +hour to dress for dinner, when little Adele, who knelt by me in the +drawing-room window-seat, suddenly exclaimed-- + +"Voila, Monsieur Rochester, qui revient!" + +I turned, and Miss Ingram darted forwards from her sofa: the others, too, +looked up from their several occupations; for at the same time a +crunching of wheels and a splashing tramp of horse-hoofs became audible +on the wet gravel. A post-chaise was approaching. + +"What can possess him to come home in that style?" said Miss Ingram. "He +rode Mesrour (the black horse), did he not, when he went out? and Pilot +was with him:--what has he done with the animals?" + +As she said this, she approached her tall person and ample garments so +near the window, that I was obliged to bend back almost to the breaking +of my spine: in her eagerness she did not observe me at first, but when +she did, she curled her lip and moved to another casement. The +post-chaise stopped; the driver rang the door-bell, and a gentleman +alighted attired in travelling garb; but it was not Mr. Rochester; it was +a tall, fashionable-looking man, a stranger. + +"How provoking!" exclaimed Miss Ingram: "you tiresome monkey!" +(apostrophising Adele), "who perched you up in the window to give false +intelligence?" and she cast on me an angry glance, as if I were in fault. + +Some parleying was audible in the hall, and soon the new-comer entered. +He bowed to Lady Ingram, as deeming her the eldest lady present. + +"It appears I come at an inopportune time, madam," said he, "when my +friend, Mr. Rochester, is from home; but I arrive from a very long +journey, and I think I may presume so far on old and intimate +acquaintance as to instal myself here till he returns." + +His manner was polite; his accent, in speaking, struck me as being +somewhat unusual,--not precisely foreign, but still not altogether +English: his age might be about Mr. Rochester's,--between thirty and +forty; his complexion was singularly sallow: otherwise he was a +fine-looking man, at first sight especially. On closer examination, you +detected something in his face that displeased, or rather that failed to +please. His features were regular, but too relaxed: his eye was large +and well cut, but the life looking out of it was a tame, vacant life--at +least so I thought. + +The sound of the dressing-bell dispersed the party. It was not till +after dinner that I saw him again: he then seemed quite at his ease. But +I liked his physiognomy even less than before: it struck me as being at +the same time unsettled and inanimate. His eye wandered, and had no +meaning in its wandering: this gave him an odd look, such as I never +remembered to have seen. For a handsome and not an unamiable-looking +man, he repelled me exceedingly: there was no power in that +smooth-skinned face of a full oval shape: no firmness in that aquiline +nose and small cherry mouth; there was no thought on the low, even +forehead; no command in that blank, brown eye. + +As I sat in my usual nook, and looked at him with the light of the +girandoles on the mantelpiece beaming full over him--for he occupied an +arm-chair drawn close to the fire, and kept shrinking still nearer, as if +he were cold, I compared him with Mr. Rochester. I think (with deference +be it spoken) the contrast could not be much greater between a sleek +gander and a fierce falcon: between a meek sheep and the rough-coated +keen-eyed dog, its guardian. + +He had spoken of Mr. Rochester as an old friend. A curious friendship +theirs must have been: a pointed illustration, indeed, of the old adage +that "extremes meet." + +Two or three of the gentlemen sat near him, and I caught at times scraps +of their conversation across the room. At first I could not make much +sense of what I heard; for the discourse of Louisa Eshton and Mary +Ingram, who sat nearer to me, confused the fragmentary sentences that +reached me at intervals. These last were discussing the stranger; they +both called him "a beautiful man." Louisa said he was "a love of a +creature," and she "adored him;" and Mary instanced his "pretty little +mouth, and nice nose," as her ideal of the charming. + +"And what a sweet-tempered forehead he has!" cried Louisa,--"so +smooth--none of those frowning irregularities I dislike so much; and such +a placid eye and smile!" + +And then, to my great relief, Mr. Henry Lynn summoned them to the other +side of the room, to settle some point about the deferred excursion to +Hay Common. + +I was now able to concentrate my attention on the group by the fire, and +I presently gathered that the new-comer was called Mr. Mason; then I +learned that he was but just arrived in England, and that he came from +some hot country: which was the reason, doubtless, his face was so +sallow, and that he sat so near the hearth, and wore a surtout in the +house. Presently the words Jamaica, Kingston, Spanish Town, indicated +the West Indies as his residence; and it was with no little surprise I +gathered, ere long, that he had there first seen and become acquainted +with Mr. Rochester. He spoke of his friend's dislike of the burning +heats, the hurricanes, and rainy seasons of that region. I knew Mr. +Rochester had been a traveller: Mrs. Fairfax had said so; but I thought +the continent of Europe had bounded his wanderings; till now I had never +heard a hint given of visits to more distant shores. + +I was pondering these things, when an incident, and a somewhat unexpected +one, broke the thread of my musings. Mr. Mason, shivering as some one +chanced to open the door, asked for more coal to be put on the fire, +which had burnt out its flame, though its mass of cinder still shone hot +and red. The footman who brought the coal, in going out, stopped near +Mr. Eshton's chair, and said something to him in a low voice, of which I +heard only the words, "old woman,"--"quite troublesome." + +"Tell her she shall be put in the stocks if she does not take herself +off," replied the magistrate. + +"No--stop!" interrupted Colonel Dent. "Don't send her away, Eshton; we +might turn the thing to account; better consult the ladies." And +speaking aloud, he continued--"Ladies, you talked of going to Hay Common +to visit the gipsy camp; Sam here says that one of the old Mother Bunches +is in the servants' hall at this moment, and insists upon being brought +in before 'the quality,' to tell them their fortunes. Would you like to +see her?" + +"Surely, colonel," cried Lady Ingram, "you would not encourage such a low +impostor? Dismiss her, by all means, at once!" + +"But I cannot persuade her to go away, my lady," said the footman; "nor +can any of the servants: Mrs. Fairfax is with her just now, entreating +her to be gone; but she has taken a chair in the chimney-corner, and says +nothing shall stir her from it till she gets leave to come in here." + +"What does she want?" asked Mrs. Eshton. + +"'To tell the gentry their fortunes,' she says, ma'am; and she swears she +must and will do it." + +"What is she like?" inquired the Misses Eshton, in a breath. + +"A shockingly ugly old creature, miss; almost as black as a crock." + +"Why, she's a real sorceress!" cried Frederick Lynn. "Let us have her +in, of course." + +"To be sure," rejoined his brother; "it would be a thousand pities to +throw away such a chance of fun." + +"My dear boys, what are you thinking about?" exclaimed Mrs. Lynn. + +"I cannot possibly countenance any such inconsistent proceeding," chimed +in the Dowager Ingram. + +"Indeed, mama, but you can--and will," pronounced the haughty voice of +Blanche, as she turned round on the piano-stool; where till now she had +sat silent, apparently examining sundry sheets of music. "I have a +curiosity to hear my fortune told: therefore, Sam, order the beldame +forward." + +"My darling Blanche! recollect--" + +"I do--I recollect all you can suggest; and I must have my will--quick, +Sam!" + +"Yes--yes--yes!" cried all the juveniles, both ladies and gentlemen. "Let +her come--it will be excellent sport!" + +The footman still lingered. "She looks such a rough one," said he. + +"Go!" ejaculated Miss Ingram, and the man went. + +Excitement instantly seized the whole party: a running fire of raillery +and jests was proceeding when Sam returned. + +"She won't come now," said he. "She says it's not her mission to appear +before the 'vulgar herd' (them's her words). I must show her into a room +by herself, and then those who wish to consult her must go to her one by +one." + +"You see now, my queenly Blanche," began Lady Ingram, "she encroaches. Be +advised, my angel girl--and--" + +"Show her into the library, of course," cut in the "angel girl." "It is +not my mission to listen to her before the vulgar herd either: I mean to +have her all to myself. Is there a fire in the library?" + +"Yes, ma'am--but she looks such a tinkler." + +"Cease that chatter, blockhead! and do my bidding." + +Again Sam vanished; and mystery, animation, expectation rose to full flow +once more. + +"She's ready now," said the footman, as he reappeared. "She wishes to +know who will be her first visitor." + +"I think I had better just look in upon her before any of the ladies go," +said Colonel Dent. + +"Tell her, Sam, a gentleman is coming." + +Sam went and returned. + +"She says, sir, that she'll have no gentlemen; they need not trouble +themselves to come near her; nor," he added, with difficulty suppressing +a titter, "any ladies either, except the young, and single." + +"By Jove, she has taste!" exclaimed Henry Lynn. + +Miss Ingram rose solemnly: "I go first," she said, in a tone which might +have befitted the leader of a forlorn hope, mounting a breach in the van +of his men. + +"Oh, my best! oh, my dearest! pause--reflect!" was her mama's cry; but +she swept past her in stately silence, passed through the door which +Colonel Dent held open, and we heard her enter the library. + +A comparative silence ensued. Lady Ingram thought it "le cas" to wring +her hands: which she did accordingly. Miss Mary declared she felt, for +her part, she never dared venture. Amy and Louisa Eshton tittered under +their breath, and looked a little frightened. + +The minutes passed very slowly: fifteen were counted before the library- +door again opened. Miss Ingram returned to us through the arch. + +Would she laugh? Would she take it as a joke? All eyes met her with a +glance of eager curiosity, and she met all eyes with one of rebuff and +coldness; she looked neither flurried nor merry: she walked stiffly to +her seat, and took it in silence. + +"Well, Blanche?" said Lord Ingram. + +"What did she say, sister?" asked Mary. + +"What did you think? How do you feel?--Is she a real fortune-teller?" +demanded the Misses Eshton. + +"Now, now, good people," returned Miss Ingram, "don't press upon me. +Really your organs of wonder and credulity are easily excited: you seem, +by the importance of you all--my good mama included--ascribe to this +matter, absolutely to believe we have a genuine witch in the house, who +is in close alliance with the old gentleman. I have seen a gipsy +vagabond; she has practised in hackneyed fashion the science of palmistry +and told me what such people usually tell. My whim is gratified; and now +I think Mr. Eshton will do well to put the hag in the stocks to-morrow +morning, as he threatened." + +Miss Ingram took a book, leant back in her chair, and so declined further +conversation. I watched her for nearly half-an-hour: during all that +time she never turned a page, and her face grew momently darker, more +dissatisfied, and more sourly expressive of disappointment. She had +obviously not heard anything to her advantage: and it seemed to me, from +her prolonged fit of gloom and taciturnity, that she herself, +notwithstanding her professed indifference, attached undue importance to +whatever revelations had been made her. + +{During all that time she never turned a page: p184.jpg} + +Meantime, Mary Ingram, Amy and Louisa Eshton, declared they dared not go +alone; and yet they all wished to go. A negotiation was opened through +the medium of the ambassador, Sam; and after much pacing to and fro, +till, I think, the said Sam's calves must have ached with the exercise, +permission was at last, with great difficulty, extorted from the rigorous +Sibyl, for the three to wait upon her in a body. + +Their visit was not so still as Miss Ingram's had been: we heard +hysterical giggling and little shrieks proceeding from the library; and +at the end of about twenty minutes they burst the door open, and came +running across the hall, as if they were half-scared out of their wits. + +"I am sure she is something not right!" they cried, one and all. "She +told us such things! She knows all about us!" and they sank breathless +into the various seats the gentlemen hastened to bring them. + +Pressed for further explanation, they declared she had told them of +things they had said and done when they were mere children; described +books and ornaments they had in their boudoirs at home: keepsakes that +different relations had presented to them. They affirmed that she had +even divined their thoughts, and had whispered in the ear of each the +name of the person she liked best in the world, and informed them of what +they most wished for. + +Here the gentlemen interposed with earnest petitions to be further +enlightened on these two last-named points; but they got only blushes, +ejaculations, tremors, and titters, in return for their importunity. The +matrons, meantime, offered vinaigrettes and wielded fans; and again and +again reiterated the expression of their concern that their warning had +not been taken in time; and the elder gentlemen laughed, and the younger +urged their services on the agitated fair ones. + +In the midst of the tumult, and while my eyes and ears were fully engaged +in the scene before me, I heard a hem close at my elbow: I turned, and +saw Sam. + +"If you please, miss, the gipsy declares that there is another young +single lady in the room who has not been to her yet, and she swears she +will not go till she has seen all. I thought it must be you: there is no +one else for it. What shall I tell her?" + +"Oh, I will go by all means," I answered: and I was glad of the +unexpected opportunity to gratify my much-excited curiosity. I slipped +out of the room, unobserved by any eye--for the company were gathered in +one mass about the trembling trio just returned--and I closed the door +quietly behind me. + +"If you like, miss," said Sam, "I'll wait in the hall for you; and if she +frightens you, just call and I'll come in." + +"No, Sam, return to the kitchen: I am not in the least afraid." Nor was +I; but I was a good deal interested and excited. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +The library looked tranquil enough as I entered it, and the Sibyl--if +Sibyl she were--was seated snugly enough in an easy-chair at the chimney- +corner. She had on a red cloak and a black bonnet: or rather, a broad- +brimmed gipsy hat, tied down with a striped handkerchief under her chin. +An extinguished candle stood on the table; she was bending over the fire, +and seemed reading in a little black book, like a prayer-book, by the +light of the blaze: she muttered the words to herself, as most old women +do, while she read; she did not desist immediately on my entrance: it +appeared she wished to finish a paragraph. + +I stood on the rug and warmed my hands, which were rather cold with +sitting at a distance from the drawing-room fire. I felt now as composed +as ever I did in my life: there was nothing indeed in the gipsy's +appearance to trouble one's calm. She shut her book and slowly looked +up; her hat-brim partially shaded her face, yet I could see, as she +raised it, that it was a strange one. It looked all brown and black: elf- +locks bristled out from beneath a white band which passed under her chin, +and came half over her cheeks, or rather jaws: her eye confronted me at +once, with a bold and direct gaze. + +"Well, and you want your fortune told?" she said, in a voice as decided +as her glance, as harsh as her features. + +"I don't care about it, mother; you may please yourself: but I ought to +warn you, I have no faith." + +"It's like your impudence to say so: I expected it of you; I heard it in +your step as you crossed the threshold." + +"Did you? You've a quick ear." + +"I have; and a quick eye and a quick brain." + +"You need them all in your trade." + +"I do; especially when I've customers like you to deal with. Why don't +you tremble?" + +"I'm not cold." + +"Why don't you turn pale?" + +"I am not sick." + +"Why don't you consult my art?" + +"I'm not silly." + +The old crone "nichered" a laugh under her bonnet and bandage; she then +drew out a short black pipe, and lighting it began to smoke. Having +indulged a while in this sedative, she raised her bent body, took the +pipe from her lips, and while gazing steadily at the fire, said very +deliberately--"You are cold; you are sick; and you are silly." + +"Prove it," I rejoined. + +"I will, in few words. You are cold, because you are alone: no contact +strikes the fire from you that is in you. You are sick; because the best +of feelings, the highest and the sweetest given to man, keeps far away +from you. You are silly, because, suffer as you may, you will not beckon +it to approach, nor will you stir one step to meet it where it waits +you." + +She again put her short black pipe to her lips, and renewed her smoking +with vigour. + +"You might say all that to almost any one who you knew lived as a +solitary dependent in a great house." + +"I might say it to almost any one: but would it be true of almost any +one?" + +"In my circumstances." + +"Yes; just so, in _your_ circumstances: but find me another precisely +placed as you are." + +"It would be easy to find you thousands." + +"You could scarcely find me one. If you knew it, you are peculiarly +situated: very near happiness; yes, within reach of it. The materials +are all prepared; there only wants a movement to combine them. Chance +laid them somewhat apart; let them be once approached and bliss results." + +"I don't understand enigmas. I never could guess a riddle in my life." + +"If you wish me to speak more plainly, show me your palm." + +"And I must cross it with silver, I suppose?" + +"To be sure." + +I gave her a shilling: she put it into an old stocking-foot which she +took out of her pocket, and having tied it round and returned it, she +told me to hold out my hand. I did. She approached her face to the +palm, and pored over it without touching it. + +"It is too fine," said she. "I can make nothing of such a hand as that; +almost without lines: besides, what is in a palm? Destiny is not written +there." + +"I believe you," said I. + +"No," she continued, "it is in the face: on the forehead, about the eyes, +in the lines of the mouth. Kneel, and lift up your head." + +"Ah! now you are coming to reality," I said, as I obeyed her. "I shall +begin to put some faith in you presently." + +I knelt within half a yard of her. She stirred the fire, so that a +ripple of light broke from the disturbed coal: the glare, however, as she +sat, only threw her face into deeper shadow: mine, it illumined. + +"I wonder with what feelings you came to me to-night," she said, when she +had examined me a while. "I wonder what thoughts are busy in your heart +during all the hours you sit in yonder room with the fine people flitting +before you like shapes in a magic-lantern: just as little sympathetic +communion passing between you and them as if they were really mere +shadows of human forms, and not the actual substance." + +"I feel tired often, sleepy sometimes, but seldom sad." + +"Then you have some secret hope to buoy you up and please you with +whispers of the future?" + +"Not I. The utmost I hope is, to save money enough out of my earnings to +set up a school some day in a little house rented by myself." + +"A mean nutriment for the spirit to exist on: and sitting in that window- +seat (you see I know your habits )--" + +"You have learned them from the servants." + +"Ah! you think yourself sharp. Well, perhaps I have: to speak truth, I +have an acquaintance with one of them, Mrs. Poole--" + +I started to my feet when I heard the name. + +"You have--have you?" thought I; "there is diablerie in the business +after all, then!" + +"Don't be alarmed," continued the strange being; "she's a safe hand is +Mrs. Poole: close and quiet; any one may repose confidence in her. But, +as I was saying: sitting in that window-seat, do you think of nothing but +your future school? Have you no present interest in any of the company +who occupy the sofas and chairs before you? Is there not one face you +study? one figure whose movements you follow with at least curiosity?" + +"I like to observe all the faces and all the figures." + +"But do you never single one from the rest--or it may be, two?" + +"I do frequently; when the gestures or looks of a pair seem telling a +tale: it amuses me to watch them." + +"What tale do you like best to hear?" + +"Oh, I have not much choice! They generally run on the same +theme--courtship; and promise to end in the same catastrophe--marriage." + +"And do you like that monotonous theme?" + +"Positively, I don't care about it: it is nothing to me." + +"Nothing to you? When a lady, young and full of life and health, +charming with beauty and endowed with the gifts of rank and fortune, sits +and smiles in the eyes of a gentleman you--" + +"I what?" + +"You know--and perhaps think well of." + +"I don't know the gentlemen here. I have scarcely interchanged a +syllable with one of them; and as to thinking well of them, I consider +some respectable, and stately, and middle-aged, and others young, +dashing, handsome, and lively: but certainly they are all at liberty to +be the recipients of whose smiles they please, without my feeling +disposed to consider the transaction of any moment to me." + +"You don't know the gentlemen here? You have not exchanged a syllable +with one of them? Will you say that of the master of the house!" + +"He is not at home." + +"A profound remark! A most ingenious quibble! He went to Millcote this +morning, and will be back here to-night or to-morrow: does that +circumstance exclude him from the list of your acquaintance--blot him, as +it were, out of existence?" + +"No; but I can scarcely see what Mr. Rochester has to do with the theme +you had introduced." + +"I was talking of ladies smiling in the eyes of gentlemen; and of late so +many smiles have been shed into Mr. Rochester's eyes that they overflow +like two cups filled above the brim: have you never remarked that?" + +"Mr. Rochester has a right to enjoy the society of his guests." + +"No question about his right: but have you never observed that, of all +the tales told here about matrimony, Mr. Rochester has been favoured with +the most lively and the most continuous?" + +"The eagerness of a listener quickens the tongue of a narrator." I said +this rather to myself than to the gipsy, whose strange talk, voice, +manner, had by this time wrapped me in a kind of dream. One unexpected +sentence came from her lips after another, till I got involved in a web +of mystification; and wondered what unseen spirit had been sitting for +weeks by my heart watching its workings and taking record of every pulse. + +"Eagerness of a listener!" repeated she: "yes; Mr. Rochester has sat by +the hour, his ear inclined to the fascinating lips that took such delight +in their task of communicating; and Mr. Rochester was so willing to +receive and looked so grateful for the pastime given him; you have +noticed this?" + +"Grateful! I cannot remember detecting gratitude in his face." + +"Detecting! You have analysed, then. And what did you detect, if not +gratitude?" + +I said nothing. + +"You have seen love: have you not?--and, looking forward, you have seen +him married, and beheld his bride happy?" + +"Humph! Not exactly. Your witch's skill is rather at fault sometimes." + +"What the devil have you seen, then?" + +"Never mind: I came here to inquire, not to confess. Is it known that +Mr. Rochester is to be married?" + +"Yes; and to the beautiful Miss Ingram." + +"Shortly?" + +"Appearances would warrant that conclusion: and, no doubt (though, with +an audacity that wants chastising out of you, you seem to question it), +they will be a superlatively happy pair. He must love such a handsome, +noble, witty, accomplished lady; and probably she loves him, or, if not +his person, at least his purse. I know she considers the Rochester +estate eligible to the last degree; though (God pardon me!) I told her +something on that point about an hour ago which made her look wondrous +grave: the corners of her mouth fell half an inch. I would advise her +blackaviced suitor to look out: if another comes, with a longer or +clearer rent-roll,--he's dished--" + +"But, mother, I did not come to hear Mr. Rochester's fortune: I came to +hear my own; and you have told me nothing of it." + +"Your fortune is yet doubtful: when I examined your face, one trait +contradicted another. Chance has meted you a measure of happiness: that +I know. I knew it before I came here this evening. She has laid it +carefully on one side for you. I saw her do it. It depends on yourself +to stretch out your hand, and take it up: but whether you will do so, is +the problem I study. Kneel again on the rug." + +"Don't keep me long; the fire scorches me." + +{She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed, leaning back in her chair: +p190.jpg} + +I knelt. She did not stoop towards me, but only gazed, leaning back in +her chair. She began muttering,-- + +"The flame flickers in the eye; the eye shines like dew; it looks soft +and full of feeling; it smiles at my jargon: it is susceptible; +impression follows impression through its clear sphere; where it ceases +to smile, it is sad; an unconscious lassitude weighs on the lid: that +signifies melancholy resulting from loneliness. It turns from me; it +will not suffer further scrutiny; it seems to deny, by a mocking glance, +the truth of the discoveries I have already made,--to disown the charge +both of sensibility and chagrin: its pride and reserve only confirm me in +my opinion. The eye is favourable. + +"As to the mouth, it delights at times in laughter; it is disposed to +impart all that the brain conceives; though I daresay it would be silent +on much the heart experiences. Mobile and flexible, it was never +intended to be compressed in the eternal silence of solitude: it is a +mouth which should speak much and smile often, and have human affection +for its interlocutor. That feature too is propitious. + +"I see no enemy to a fortunate issue but in the brow; and that brow +professes to say,--'I can live alone, if self-respect, and circumstances +require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an +inward treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous +delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot afford +to give.' The forehead declares, 'Reason sits firm and holds the reins, +and she will not let the feelings burst away and hurry her to wild +chasms. The passions may rage furiously, like true heathens, as they +are; and the desires may imagine all sorts of vain things: but judgment +shall still have the last word in every argument, and the casting vote in +every decision. Strong wind, earthquake-shock, and fire may pass by: but +I shall follow the guiding of that still small voice which interprets the +dictates of conscience.' + +"Well said, forehead; your declaration shall be respected. I have formed +my plans--right plans I deem them--and in them I have attended to the +claims of conscience, the counsels of reason. I know how soon youth +would fade and bloom perish, if, in the cup of bliss offered, but one +dreg of shame, or one flavour of remorse were detected; and I do not want +sacrifice, sorrow, dissolution--such is not my taste. I wish to foster, +not to blight--to earn gratitude, not to wring tears of blood--no, nor of +brine: my harvest must be in smiles, in endearments, in sweet--That will +do. I think I rave in a kind of exquisite delirium. I should wish now +to protract this moment _ad infinitum_; but I dare not. So far I have +governed myself thoroughly. I have acted as I inwardly swore I would +act; but further might try me beyond my strength. Rise, Miss Eyre: leave +me; the play is played out'." + +Where was I? Did I wake or sleep? Had I been dreaming? Did I dream +still? The old woman's voice had changed: her accent, her gesture, and +all were familiar to me as my own face in a glass--as the speech of my +own tongue. I got up, but did not go. I looked; I stirred the fire, and +I looked again: but she drew her bonnet and her bandage closer about her +face, and again beckoned me to depart. The flame illuminated her hand +stretched out: roused now, and on the alert for discoveries, I at once +noticed that hand. It was no more the withered limb of eld than my own; +it was a rounded supple member, with smooth fingers, symmetrically +turned; a broad ring flashed on the little finger, and stooping forward, +I looked at it, and saw a gem I had seen a hundred times before. Again I +looked at the face; which was no longer turned from me--on the contrary, +the bonnet was doffed, the bandage displaced, the head advanced. + +"Well, Jane, do you know me?" asked the familiar voice. + +"Only take off the red cloak, sir, and then--" + +"But the string is in a knot--help me." + +"Break it, sir." + +"There, then--'Off, ye lendings!'" And Mr. Rochester stepped out of his +disguise. + +"Now, sir, what a strange idea!" + +"But well carried out, eh? Don't you think so?" + +"With the ladies you must have managed well." + +"But not with you?" + +"You did not act the character of a gipsy with me." + +"What character did I act? My own?" + +"No; some unaccountable one. In short, I believe you have been trying to +draw me out--or in; you have been talking nonsense to make me talk +nonsense. It is scarcely fair, sir." + +"Do you forgive me, Jane?" + +"I cannot tell till I have thought it all over. If, on reflection, I +find I have fallen into no great absurdity, I shall try to forgive you; +but it was not right." + +"Oh, you have been very correct--very careful, very sensible." + +I reflected, and thought, on the whole, I had. It was a comfort; but, +indeed, I had been on my guard almost from the beginning of the +interview. Something of masquerade I suspected. I knew gipsies and +fortune-tellers did not express themselves as this seeming old woman had +expressed herself; besides I had noted her feigned voice, her anxiety to +conceal her features. But my mind had been running on Grace Poole--that +living enigma, that mystery of mysteries, as I considered her. I had +never thought of Mr. Rochester. + +"Well," said he, "what are you musing about? What does that grave smile +signify?" + +"Wonder and self-congratulation, sir. I have your permission to retire +now, I suppose?" + +"No; stay a moment; and tell me what the people in the drawing-room +yonder are doing." + +"Discussing the gipsy, I daresay." + +"Sit down!--Let me hear what they said about me." + +"I had better not stay long, sir; it must be near eleven o'clock. Oh, +are you aware, Mr. Rochester, that a stranger has arrived here since you +left this morning?" + +"A stranger!--no; who can it be? I expected no one; is he gone?" + +"No; he said he had known you long, and that he could take the liberty of +installing himself here till you returned." + +"The devil he did! Did he give his name?" + +"His name is Mason, sir; and he comes from the West Indies; from Spanish +Town, in Jamaica, I think." + +Mr. Rochester was standing near me; he had taken my hand, as if to lead +me to a chair. As I spoke he gave my wrist a convulsive grip; the smile +on his lips froze: apparently a spasm caught his breath. + +"Mason!--the West Indies!" he said, in the tone one might fancy a +speaking automaton to enounce its single words; "Mason!--the West +Indies!" he reiterated; and he went over the syllables three times, +growing, in the intervals of speaking, whiter than ashes: he hardly +seemed to know what he was doing. + +"Do you feel ill, sir?" I inquired. + +"Jane, I've got a blow; I've got a blow, Jane!" He staggered. + +"Oh, lean on me, sir." + +"Jane, you offered me your shoulder once before; let me have it now." + +"Yes, sir, yes; and my arm." + +He sat down, and made me sit beside him. Holding my hand in both his +own, he chafed it; gazing on me, at the same time, with the most troubled +and dreary look. + +"My little friend!" said he, "I wish I were in a quiet island with only +you; and trouble, and danger, and hideous recollections removed from me." + +"Can I help you, sir?--I'd give my life to serve you." + +"Jane, if aid is wanted, I'll seek it at your hands; I promise you that." + +"Thank you, sir. Tell me what to do,--I'll try, at least, to do it." + +"Fetch me now, Jane, a glass of wine from the dining-room: they will be +at supper there; and tell me if Mason is with them, and what he is +doing." + +I went. I found all the party in the dining-room at supper, as Mr. +Rochester had said; they were not seated at table,--the supper was +arranged on the sideboard; each had taken what he chose, and they stood +about here and there in groups, their plates and glasses in their hands. +Every one seemed in high glee; laughter and conversation were general and +animated. Mr. Mason stood near the fire, talking to Colonel and Mrs. +Dent, and appeared as merry as any of them. I filled a wine-glass (I saw +Miss Ingram watch me frowningly as I did so: she thought I was taking a +liberty, I daresay), and I returned to the library. + +Mr. Rochester's extreme pallor had disappeared, and he looked once more +firm and stern. He took the glass from my hand. + +"Here is to your health, ministrant spirit!" he said. He swallowed the +contents and returned it to me. "What are they doing, Jane?" + +"Laughing and talking, sir." + +"They don't look grave and mysterious, as if they had heard something +strange?" + +"Not at all: they are full of jests and gaiety." + +"And Mason?" + +"He was laughing too." + +"If all these people came in a body and spat at me, what would you do, +Jane?" + +"Turn them out of the room, sir, if I could." + +He half smiled. "But if I were to go to them, and they only looked at me +coldly, and whispered sneeringly amongst each other, and then dropped off +and left me one by one, what then? Would you go with them?" + +"I rather think not, sir: I should have more pleasure in staying with +you." + +"To comfort me?" + +"Yes, sir, to comfort you, as well as I could." + +"And if they laid you under a ban for adhering to me?" + +"I, probably, should know nothing about their ban; and if I did, I should +care nothing about it." + +"Then, you could dare censure for my sake?" + +"I could dare it for the sake of any friend who deserved my adherence; as +you, I am sure, do." + +"Go back now into the room; step quietly up to Mason, and whisper in his +ear that Mr. Rochester is come and wishes to see him: show him in here +and then leave me." + +"Yes, sir." + +I did his behest. The company all stared at me as I passed straight +among them. I sought Mr. Mason, delivered the message, and preceded him +from the room: I ushered him into the library, and then I went upstairs. + +At a late hour, after I had been in bed some time, I heard the visitors +repair to their chambers: I distinguished Mr. Rochester's voice, and +heard him say, "This way, Mason; this is your room." + +He spoke cheerfully: the gay tones set my heart at ease. I was soon +asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +I had forgotten to draw my curtain, which I usually did, and also to let +down my window-blind. The consequence was, that when the moon, which was +full and bright (for the night was fine), came in her course to that +space in the sky opposite my casement, and looked in at me through the +unveiled panes, her glorious gaze roused me. Awaking in the dead of +night, I opened my eyes on her disk--silver-white and crystal clear. It +was beautiful, but too solemn; I half rose, and stretched my arm to draw +the curtain. + +Good God! What a cry! + +The night--its silence--its rest, was rent in twain by a savage, a sharp, +a shrilly sound that ran from end to end of Thornfield Hall. + +My pulse stopped: my heart stood still; my stretched arm was paralysed. +The cry died, and was not renewed. Indeed, whatever being uttered that +fearful shriek could not soon repeat it: not the widest-winged condor on +the Andes could, twice in succession, send out such a yell from the cloud +shrouding his eyrie. The thing delivering such utterance must rest ere +it could repeat the effort. + +It came out of the third storey; for it passed overhead. And +overhead--yes, in the room just above my chamber-ceiling--I now heard a +struggle: a deadly one it seemed from the noise; and a half-smothered +voice shouted-- + +"Help! help! help!" three times rapidly. + +"Will no one come?" it cried; and then, while the staggering and stamping +went on wildly, I distinguished through plank and plaster:-- + +"Rochester! Rochester! for God's sake, come!" + +A chamber-door opened: some one ran, or rushed, along the gallery. +Another step stamped on the flooring above and something fell; and there +was silence. + +I had put on some clothes, though horror shook all my limbs; I issued +from my apartment. The sleepers were all aroused: ejaculations, +terrified murmurs sounded in every room; door after door unclosed; one +looked out and another looked out; the gallery filled. Gentlemen and +ladies alike had quitted their beds; and "Oh! what is it?"--"Who is +hurt?"--"What has happened?"--"Fetch a light!"--"Is it fire?"--"Are there +robbers?"--"Where shall we run?" was demanded confusedly on all hands. +But for the moonlight they would have been in complete darkness. They +ran to and fro; they crowded together: some sobbed, some stumbled: the +confusion was inextricable. + +"Where the devil is Rochester?" cried Colonel Dent. "I cannot find him +in his bed." + +"Here! here!" was shouted in return. "Be composed, all of you: I'm +coming." + +And the door at the end of the gallery opened, and Mr. Rochester advanced +with a candle: he had just descended from the upper storey. One of the +ladies ran to him directly; she seized his arm: it was Miss Ingram. + +"What awful event has taken place?" said she. "Speak! let us know the +worst at once!" + +"But don't pull me down or strangle me," he replied: for the Misses +Eshton were clinging about him now; and the two dowagers, in vast white +wrappers, were bearing down on him like ships in full sail. + +"All's right!--all's right!" he cried. "It's a mere rehearsal of Much +Ado about Nothing. Ladies, keep off, or I shall wax dangerous." + +And dangerous he looked: his black eyes darted sparks. Calming himself +by an effort, he added-- + +"A servant has had the nightmare; that is all. She's an excitable, +nervous person: she construed her dream into an apparition, or something +of that sort, no doubt; and has taken a fit with fright. Now, then, I +must see you all back into your rooms; for, till the house is settled, +she cannot be looked after. Gentlemen, have the goodness to set the +ladies the example. Miss Ingram, I am sure you will not fail in evincing +superiority to idle terrors. Amy and Louisa, return to your nests like a +pair of doves, as you are. Mesdames" (to the dowagers), "you will take +cold to a dead certainty, if you stay in this chill gallery any longer." + +And so, by dint of alternate coaxing and commanding, he contrived to get +them all once more enclosed in their separate dormitories. I did not +wait to be ordered back to mine, but retreated unnoticed, as unnoticed I +had left it. + +Not, however, to go to bed: on the contrary, I began and dressed myself +carefully. The sounds I had heard after the scream, and the words that +had been uttered, had probably been heard only by me; for they had +proceeded from the room above mine: but they assured me that it was not a +servant's dream which had thus struck horror through the house; and that +the explanation Mr. Rochester had given was merely an invention framed to +pacify his guests. I dressed, then, to be ready for emergencies. When +dressed, I sat a long time by the window looking out over the silent +grounds and silvered fields and waiting for I knew not what. It seemed +to me that some event must follow the strange cry, struggle, and call. + +No: stillness returned: each murmur and movement ceased gradually, and in +about an hour Thornfield Hall was again as hushed as a desert. It seemed +that sleep and night had resumed their empire. Meantime the moon +declined: she was about to set. Not liking to sit in the cold and +darkness, I thought I would lie down on my bed, dressed as I was. I left +the window, and moved with little noise across the carpet; as I stooped +to take off my shoes, a cautious hand tapped low at the door. + +"Am I wanted?" I asked. + +"Are you up?" asked the voice I expected to hear, viz., my master's. + +"Yes, sir." + +"And dressed?" + +"Yes." + +"Come out, then, quietly." + +I obeyed. Mr. Rochester stood in the gallery holding a light. + +"I want you," he said: "come this way: take your time, and make no +noise." + +My slippers were thin: I could walk the matted floor as softly as a cat. +He glided up the gallery and up the stairs, and stopped in the dark, low +corridor of the fateful third storey: I had followed and stood at his +side. + +"Have you a sponge in your room?" he asked in a whisper. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Have you any salts--volatile salts?" + +"Yes." + +"Go back and fetch both." + +I returned, sought the sponge on the washstand, the salts in my drawer, +and once more retraced my steps. He still waited; he held a key in his +hand: approaching one of the small, black doors, he put it in the lock; +he paused, and addressed me again. + +"You don't turn sick at the sight of blood?" + +"I think I shall not: I have never been tried yet." + +I felt a thrill while I answered him; but no coldness, and no faintness. + +"Just give me your hand," he said: "it will not do to risk a fainting +fit." + +I put my fingers into his. "Warm and steady," was his remark: he turned +the key and opened the door. + +I saw a room I remembered to have seen before, the day Mrs. Fairfax +showed me over the house: it was hung with tapestry; but the tapestry was +now looped up in one part, and there was a door apparent, which had then +been concealed. This door was open; a light shone out of the room +within: I heard thence a snarling, snatching sound, almost like a dog +quarrelling. Mr. Rochester, putting down his candle, said to me, "Wait a +minute," and he went forward to the inner apartment. A shout of laughter +greeted his entrance; noisy at first, and terminating in Grace Poole's +own goblin ha! ha! _She_ then was there. He made some sort of +arrangement without speaking, though I heard a low voice address him: he +came out and closed the door behind him. + +"Here, Jane!" he said; and I walked round to the other side of a large +bed, which with its drawn curtains concealed a considerable portion of +the chamber. An easy-chair was near the bed-head: a man sat in it, +dressed with the exception of his coat; he was still; his head leant +back; his eyes were closed. Mr. Rochester held the candle over him; I +recognised in his pale and seemingly lifeless face--the stranger, Mason: +I saw too that his linen on one side, and one arm, was almost soaked in +blood. + +"Hold the candle," said Mr. Rochester, and I took it: he fetched a basin +of water from the washstand: "Hold that," said he. I obeyed. He took +the sponge, dipped it in, and moistened the corpse-like face; he asked +for my smelling-bottle, and applied it to the nostrils. Mr. Mason +shortly unclosed his eyes; he groaned. Mr. Rochester opened the shirt of +the wounded man, whose arm and shoulder were bandaged: he sponged away +blood, trickling fast down. + +"Is there immediate danger?" murmured Mr. Mason. + +"Pooh! No--a mere scratch. Don't be so overcome, man: bear up! I'll +fetch a surgeon for you now, myself: you'll be able to be removed by +morning, I hope. Jane," he continued. + +"Sir?" + +"I shall have to leave you in this room with this gentleman, for an hour, +or perhaps two hours: you will sponge the blood as I do when it returns: +if he feels faint, you will put the glass of water on that stand to his +lips, and your salts to his nose. You will not speak to him on any +pretext--and--Richard, it will be at the peril of your life if you speak +to her: open your lips--agitate yourself--and I'll not answer for the +consequences." + +Again the poor man groaned; he looked as if he dared not move; fear, +either of death or of something else, appeared almost to paralyse him. +Mr. Rochester put the now bloody sponge into my hand, and I proceeded to +use it as he had done. He watched me a second, then saying, +"Remember!--No conversation," he left the room. I experienced a strange +feeling as the key grated in the lock, and the sound of his retreating +step ceased to be heard. + +Here then I was in the third storey, fastened into one of its mystic +cells; night around me; a pale and bloody spectacle under my eyes and +hands; a murderess hardly separated from me by a single door: yes--that +was appalling--the rest I could bear; but I shuddered at the thought of +Grace Poole bursting out upon me. + +I must keep to my post, however. I must watch this ghastly +countenance--these blue, still lips forbidden to unclose--these eyes now +shut, now opening, now wandering through the room, now fixing on me, and +ever glazed with the dulness of horror. I must dip my hand again and +again in the basin of blood and water, and wipe away the trickling gore. +I must see the light of the unsnuffed candle wane on my employment; the +shadows darken on the wrought, antique tapestry round me, and grow black +under the hangings of the vast old bed, and quiver strangely over the +doors of a great cabinet opposite--whose front, divided into twelve +panels, bore, in grim design, the heads of the twelve apostles, each +enclosed in its separate panel as in a frame; while above them at the top +rose an ebon crucifix and a dying Christ. + +According as the shifting obscurity and flickering gleam hovered here or +glanced there, it was now the bearded physician, Luke, that bent his +brow; now St. John's long hair that waved; and anon the devilish face of +Judas, that grew out of the panel, and seemed gathering life and +threatening a revelation of the arch-traitor--of Satan himself--in his +subordinate's form. + +Amidst all this, I had to listen as well as watch: to listen for the +movements of the wild beast or the fiend in yonder side den. But since +Mr. Rochester's visit it seemed spellbound: all the night I heard but +three sounds at three long intervals,--a step creak, a momentary renewal +of the snarling, canine noise, and a deep human groan. + +Then my own thoughts worried me. What crime was this that lived +incarnate in this sequestered mansion, and could neither be expelled nor +subdued by the owner?--what mystery, that broke out now in fire and now +in blood, at the deadest hours of night? What creature was it, that, +masked in an ordinary woman's face and shape, uttered the voice, now of a +mocking demon, and anon of a carrion-seeking bird of prey? + +And this man I bent over--this commonplace, quiet stranger--how had he +become involved in the web of horror? and why had the Fury flown at him? +What made him seek this quarter of the house at an untimely season, when +he should have been asleep in bed? I had heard Mr. Rochester assign him +an apartment below--what brought him here! And why, now, was he so tame +under the violence or treachery done him? Why did he so quietly submit +to the concealment Mr. Rochester enforced? Why _did_ Mr. Rochester +enforce this concealment? His guest had been outraged, his own life on a +former occasion had been hideously plotted against; and both attempts he +smothered in secrecy and sank in oblivion! Lastly, I saw Mr. Mason was +submissive to Mr. Rochester; that the impetuous will of the latter held +complete sway over the inertness of the former: the few words which had +passed between them assured me of this. It was evident that in their +former intercourse, the passive disposition of the one had been +habitually influenced by the active energy of the other: whence then had +arisen Mr. Rochester's dismay when he heard of Mr. Mason's arrival? Why +had the mere name of this unresisting individual--whom his word now +sufficed to control like a child--fallen on him, a few hours since, as a +thunderbolt might fall on an oak? + +Oh! I could not forget his look and his paleness when he whispered: +"Jane, I have got a blow--I have got a blow, Jane." I could not forget +how the arm had trembled which he rested on my shoulder: and it was no +light matter which could thus bow the resolute spirit and thrill the +vigorous frame of Fairfax Rochester. + +"When will he come? When will he come?" I cried inwardly, as the night +lingered and lingered--as my bleeding patient drooped, moaned, sickened: +and neither day nor aid arrived. I had, again and again, held the water +to Mason's white lips; again and again offered him the stimulating salts: +my efforts seemed ineffectual: either bodily or mental suffering, or loss +of blood, or all three combined, were fast prostrating his strength. He +moaned so, and looked so weak, wild, and lost, I feared he was dying; and +I might not even speak to him. + +The candle, wasted at last, went out; as it expired, I perceived streaks +of grey light edging the window curtains: dawn was then approaching. +Presently I heard Pilot bark far below, out of his distant kennel in the +courtyard: hope revived. Nor was it unwarranted: in five minutes more +the grating key, the yielding lock, warned me my watch was relieved. It +could not have lasted more than two hours: many a week has seemed +shorter. + +Mr. Rochester entered, and with him the surgeon he had been to fetch. + +"Now, Carter, be on the alert," he said to this last: "I give you but +half-an-hour for dressing the wound, fastening the bandages, getting the +patient downstairs and all." + +"But is he fit to move, sir?" + +"No doubt of it; it is nothing serious; he is nervous, his spirits must +be kept up. Come, set to work." + +Mr. Rochester drew back the thick curtain, drew up the holland blind, let +in all the daylight he could; and I was surprised and cheered to see how +far dawn was advanced: what rosy streaks were beginning to brighten the +east. Then he approached Mason, whom the surgeon was already handling. + +"Now, my good fellow, how are you?" he asked. + +"She's done for me, I fear," was the faint reply. + +"Not a whit!--courage! This day fortnight you'll hardly be a pin the +worse of it: you've lost a little blood; that's all. Carter, assure him +there's no danger." + +"I can do that conscientiously," said Carter, who had now undone the +bandages; "only I wish I could have got here sooner: he would not have +bled so much--but how is this? The flesh on the shoulder is torn as well +as cut. This wound was not done with a knife: there have been teeth +here!" + +"She bit me," he murmured. "She worried me like a tigress, when +Rochester got the knife from her." + +"You should not have yielded: you should have grappled with her at once," +said Mr. Rochester. + +"But under such circumstances, what could one do?" returned Mason. "Oh, +it was frightful!" he added, shuddering. "And I did not expect it: she +looked so quiet at first." + +"I warned you," was his friend's answer; "I said--be on your guard when +you go near her. Besides, you might have waited till to-morrow, and had +me with you: it was mere folly to attempt the interview to-night, and +alone." + +"I thought I could have done some good." + +"You thought! you thought! Yes, it makes me impatient to hear you: but, +however, you have suffered, and are likely to suffer enough for not +taking my advice; so I'll say no more. Carter--hurry!--hurry! The sun +will soon rise, and I must have him off." + +"Directly, sir; the shoulder is just bandaged. I must look to this other +wound in the arm: she has had her teeth here too, I think." + +"She sucked the blood: she said she'd drain my heart," said Mason. + +I saw Mr. Rochester shudder: a singularly marked expression of disgust, +horror, hatred, warped his countenance almost to distortion; but he only +said-- + +"Come, be silent, Richard, and never mind her gibberish: don't repeat +it." + +"I wish I could forget it," was the answer. + +"You will when you are out of the country: when you get back to Spanish +Town, you may think of her as dead and buried--or rather, you need not +think of her at all." + +"Impossible to forget this night!" + +"It is not impossible: have some energy, man. You thought you were as +dead as a herring two hours since, and you are all alive and talking now. +There!--Carter has done with you or nearly so; I'll make you decent in a +trice. Jane" (he turned to me for the first time since his re-entrance), +"take this key: go down into my bedroom, and walk straight forward into +my dressing-room: open the top drawer of the wardrobe and take out a +clean shirt and neck-handkerchief: bring them here; and be nimble." + +I went; sought the repository he had mentioned, found the articles named, +and returned with them. + +"Now," said he, "go to the other side of the bed while I order his +toilet; but don't leave the room: you may be wanted again." + +I retired as directed. + +"Was anybody stirring below when you went down, Jane?" inquired Mr. +Rochester presently. + +"No, sir; all was very still." + +"We shall get you off cannily, Dick: and it will be better, both for your +sake, and for that of the poor creature in yonder. I have striven long +to avoid exposure, and I should not like it to come at last. Here, +Carter, help him on with his waist-coat. Where did you leave your furred +cloak? You can't travel a mile without that, I know, in this damned cold +climate. In your room?--Jane, run down to Mr. Mason's room,--the one +next mine,--and fetch a cloak you will see there." + +Again I ran, and again returned, bearing an immense mantle lined and +edged with fur. + +"Now, I've another errand for you," said my untiring master; "you must +away to my room again. What a mercy you are shod with velvet, Jane!--a +clod-hopping messenger would never do at this juncture. You must open +the middle drawer of my toilet-table and take out a little phial and a +little glass you will find there,--quick!" + +I flew thither and back, bringing the desired vessels. + +"That's well! Now, doctor, I shall take the liberty of administering a +dose myself, on my own responsibility. I got this cordial at Rome, of an +Italian charlatan--a fellow you would have kicked, Carter. It is not a +thing to be used indiscriminately, but it is good upon occasion: as now, +for instance. Jane, a little water." + +He held out the tiny glass, and I half filled it from the water-bottle on +the washstand. + +"That will do;--now wet the lip of the phial." + +I did so; he measured twelve drops of a crimson liquid, and presented it +to Mason. + +"Drink, Richard: it will give you the heart you lack, for an hour or so." + +"But will it hurt me?--is it inflammatory?" + +"Drink! drink! drink!" + +Mr. Mason obeyed, because it was evidently useless to resist. He was +dressed now: he still looked pale, but he was no longer gory and sullied. +Mr. Rochester let him sit three minutes after he had swallowed the +liquid; he then took his arm-- + +"Now I am sure you can get on your feet," he said--"try." + +The patient rose. + +"Carter, take him under the other shoulder. Be of good cheer, Richard; +step out--that's it!" + +"I do feel better," remarked Mr. Mason. + +"I am sure you do. Now, Jane, trip on before us away to the backstairs; +unbolt the side-passage door, and tell the driver of the post-chaise you +will see in the yard--or just outside, for I told him not to drive his +rattling wheels over the pavement--to be ready; we are coming: and, Jane, +if any one is about, come to the foot of the stairs and hem." + +It was by this time half-past five, and the sun was on the point of +rising; but I found the kitchen still dark and silent. The side-passage +door was fastened; I opened it with as little noise as possible: all the +yard was quiet; but the gates stood wide open, and there was a +post-chaise, with horses ready harnessed, and driver seated on the box, +stationed outside. I approached him, and said the gentlemen were coming; +he nodded: then I looked carefully round and listened. The stillness of +early morning slumbered everywhere; the curtains were yet drawn over the +servants' chamber windows; little birds were just twittering in the +blossom-blanched orchard trees, whose boughs drooped like white garlands +over the wall enclosing one side of the yard; the carriage horses stamped +from time to time in their closed stables: all else was still. + +The gentlemen now appeared. Mason, supported by Mr. Rochester and the +surgeon, seemed to walk with tolerable ease: they assisted him into the +chaise; Carter followed. + +"Take care of him," said Mr. Rochester to the latter, "and keep him at +your house till he is quite well: I shall ride over in a day or two to +see how he gets on. Richard, how is it with you?" + +"The fresh air revives me, Fairfax." + +"Leave the window open on his side, Carter; there is no wind--good-bye, +Dick." + +"Fairfax--" + +"Well what is it?" + +"Let her be taken care of; let her be treated as tenderly as may be: let +her--" he stopped and burst into tears. + +"I do my best; and have done it, and will do it," was the answer: he shut +up the chaise door, and the vehicle drove away. + +"Yet would to God there was an end of all this!" added Mr. Rochester, as +he closed and barred the heavy yard-gates. + +This done, he moved with slow step and abstracted air towards a door in +the wall bordering the orchard. I, supposing he had done with me, +prepared to return to the house; again, however, I heard him call "Jane!" +He had opened feel portal and stood at it, waiting for me. + +"Come where there is some freshness, for a few moments," he said; "that +house is a mere dungeon: don't you feel it so?" + +"It seems to me a splendid mansion, sir." + +"The glamour of inexperience is over your eyes," he answered; "and you +see it through a charmed medium: you cannot discern that the gilding is +slime and the silk draperies cobwebs; that the marble is sordid slate, +and the polished woods mere refuse chips and scaly bark. Now _here_" (he +pointed to the leafy enclosure we had entered) "all is real, sweet, and +pure." + +He strayed down a walk edged with box, with apple trees, pear trees, and +cherry trees on one side, and a border on the other full of all sorts of +old-fashioned flowers, stocks, sweet-williams, primroses, pansies, +mingled with southernwood, sweet-briar, and various fragrant herbs. They +were fresh now as a succession of April showers and gleams, followed by a +lovely spring morning, could make them: the sun was just entering the +dappled east, and his light illumined the wreathed and dewy orchard trees +and shone down the quiet walks under them. + +"Jane, will you have a flower?" + +He gathered a half-blown rose, the first on the bush, and offered it to +me. + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Do you like this sunrise, Jane? That sky with its high and light clouds +which are sure to melt away as the day waxes warm--this placid and balmly +atmosphere?" + +"I do, very much." + +"You have passed a strange night, Jane." + +"Yes, sir." + +"And it has made you look pale--were you afraid when I left you alone +with Mason?" + +"I was afraid of some one coming out of the inner room." + +"But I had fastened the door--I had the key in my pocket: I should have +been a careless shepherd if I had left a lamb--my pet lamb--so near a +wolf's den, unguarded: you were safe." + +"Will Grace Poole live here still, sir?" + +"Oh yes! don't trouble your head about her--put the thing out of your +thoughts." + +"Yet it seems to me your life is hardly secure while she stays." + +"Never fear--I will take care of myself." + +"Is the danger you apprehended last night gone by now, sir?" + +"I cannot vouch for that till Mason is out of England: nor even then. To +live, for me, Jane, is to stand on a crater-crust which may crack and +spue fire any day." + +"But Mr. Mason seems a man easily led. Your influence, sir, is evidently +potent with him: he will never set you at defiance or wilfully injure +you." + +"Oh, no! Mason will not defy me; nor, knowing it, will he hurt me--but, +unintentionally, he might in a moment, by one careless word, deprive me, +if not of life, yet for ever of happiness." + +"Tell him to be cautious, sir: let him know what you fear, and show him +how to avert the danger." + +He laughed sardonically, hastily took my hand, and as hastily threw it +from him. + +"If I could do that, simpleton, where would the danger be? Annihilated +in a moment. Ever since I have known Mason, I have only had to say to +him 'Do that,' and the thing has been done. But I cannot give him orders +in this case: I cannot say 'Beware of harming me, Richard;' for it is +imperative that I should keep him ignorant that harm to me is possible. +Now you look puzzled; and I will puzzle you further. You are my little +friend, are you not?" + +"I like to serve you, sir, and to obey you in all that is right." + +"Precisely: I see you do. I see genuine contentment in your gait and +mien, your eye and face, when you are helping me and pleasing me--working +for me, and with me, in, as you characteristically say, '_all that is +right_:' for if I bid you do what you thought wrong, there would be no +light-footed running, no neat-handed alacrity, no lively glance and +animated complexion. My friend would then turn to me, quiet and pale, +and would say, 'No, sir; that is impossible: I cannot do it, because it +is wrong;' and would become immutable as a fixed star. Well, you too +have power over me, and may injure me: yet I dare not show you where I am +vulnerable, lest, faithful and friendly as you are, you should transfix +me at once." + +"If you have no more to fear from Mr. Mason than you have from me, sir, +you are very safe." + +"God grant it may be so! Here, Jane, is an arbour; sit down." + +The arbour was an arch in the wall, lined with ivy; it contained a rustic +seat. Mr. Rochester took it, leaving room, however, for me: but I stood +before him. + +"Sit," he said; "the bench is long enough for two. You don't hesitate to +take a place at my side, do you? Is that wrong, Jane?" + +I answered him by assuming it: to refuse would, I felt, have been unwise. + +"Now, my little friend, while the sun drinks the dew--while all the +flowers in this old garden awake and expand, and the birds fetch their +young ones' breakfast out of the Thornfield, and the early bees do their +first spell of work--I'll put a case to you, which you must endeavour to +suppose your own: but first, look at me, and tell me you are at ease, and +not fearing that I err in detaining you, or that you err in staying." + +"No, sir; I am content." + +"Well then, Jane, call to aid your fancy:--suppose you were no longer a +girl well reared and disciplined, but a wild boy indulged from childhood +upwards; imagine yourself in a remote foreign land; conceive that you +there commit a capital error, no matter of what nature or from what +motives, but one whose consequences must follow you through life and +taint all your existence. Mind, I don't say a _crime_; I am not speaking +of shedding of blood or any other guilty act, which might make the +perpetrator amenable to the law: my word is _error_. The results of what +you have done become in time to you utterly insupportable; you take +measures to obtain relief: unusual measures, but neither unlawful nor +culpable. Still you are miserable; for hope has quitted you on the very +confines of life: your sun at noon darkens in an eclipse, which you feel +will not leave it till the time of setting. Bitter and base associations +have become the sole food of your memory: you wander here and there, +seeking rest in exile: happiness in pleasure--I mean in heartless, +sensual pleasure--such as dulls intellect and blights feeling. +Heart-weary and soul-withered, you come home after years of voluntary +banishment: you make a new acquaintance--how or where no matter: you find +in this stranger much of the good and bright qualities which you have +sought for twenty years, and never before encountered; and they are all +fresh, healthy, without soil and without taint. Such society revives, +regenerates: you feel better days come back--higher wishes, purer +feelings; you desire to recommence your life, and to spend what remains +to you of days in a way more worthy of an immortal being. To attain this +end, are you justified in overleaping an obstacle of custom--a mere +conventional impediment which neither your conscience sanctifies nor your +judgment approves?" + +He paused for an answer: and what was I to say? Oh, for some good spirit +to suggest a judicious and satisfactory response! Vain aspiration! The +west wind whispered in the ivy round me; but no gentle Ariel borrowed its +breath as a medium of speech: the birds sang in the tree-tops; but their +song, however sweet, was inarticulate. + +Again Mr. Rochester propounded his query: + +"Is the wandering and sinful, but now rest-seeking and repentant, man +justified in daring the world's opinion, in order to attach to him for +ever this gentle, gracious, genial stranger, thereby securing his own +peace of mind and regeneration of life?" + +"Sir," I answered, "a wanderer's repose or a sinner's reformation should +never depend on a fellow-creature. Men and women die; philosophers +falter in wisdom, and Christians in goodness: if any one you know has +suffered and erred, let him look higher than his equals for strength to +amend and solace to heal." + +"But the instrument--the instrument! God, who does the work, ordains the +instrument. I have myself--I tell it you without parable--been a +worldly, dissipated, restless man; and I believe I have found the +instrument for my cure in--" + +He paused: the birds went on carolling, the leaves lightly rustling. I +almost wondered they did not check their songs and whispers to catch the +suspended revelation; but they would have had to wait many minutes--so +long was the silence protracted. At last I looked up at the tardy +speaker: he was looking eagerly at me. + +"Little friend," said he, in quite a changed tone--while his face changed +too, losing all its softness and gravity, and becoming harsh and +sarcastic--"you have noticed my tender penchant for Miss Ingram: don't +you think if I married her she would regenerate me with a vengeance?" + +He got up instantly, went quite to the other end of the walk, and when he +came back he was humming a tune. + +"Jane, Jane," said he, stopping before me, "you are quite pale with your +vigils: don't you curse me for disturbing your rest?" + +"Curse you? No, sir." + +"Shake hands in confirmation of the word. What cold fingers! They were +warmer last night when I touched them at the door of the mysterious +chamber. Jane, when will you watch with me again?" + +"Whenever I can be useful, sir." + +"For instance, the night before I am married! I am sure I shall not be +able to sleep. Will you promise to sit up with me to bear me company? To +you I can talk of my lovely one: for now you have seen her and know her." + +"Yes, sir." + +"She's a rare one, is she not, Jane?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"A strapper--a real strapper, Jane: big, brown, and buxom; with hair just +such as the ladies of Carthage must have had. Bless me! there's Dent and +Lynn in the stables! Go in by the shrubbery, through that wicket." + +As I went one way, he went another, and I heard him in the yard, saying +cheerfully-- + +"Mason got the start of you all this morning; he was gone before sunrise: +I rose at four to see him off." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Presentiments are strange things! and so are sympathies; and so are +signs; and the three combined make one mystery to which humanity has not +yet found the key. I never laughed at presentiments in my life, because +I have had strange ones of my own. Sympathies, I believe, exist (for +instance, between far-distant, long-absent, wholly estranged relatives +asserting, notwithstanding their alienation, the unity of the source to +which each traces his origin) whose workings baffle mortal comprehension. +And signs, for aught we know, may be but the sympathies of Nature with +man. + +When I was a little girl, only six years old, I one night heard Bessie +Leaven say to Martha Abbot that she had been dreaming about a little +child; and that to dream of children was a sure sign of trouble, either +to one's self or one's kin. The saying might have worn out of my memory, +had not a circumstance immediately followed which served indelibly to fix +it there. The next day Bessie was sent for home to the deathbed of her +little sister. + +Of late I had often recalled this saying and this incident; for during +the past week scarcely a night had gone over my couch that had not +brought with it a dream of an infant, which I sometimes hushed in my +arms, sometimes dandled on my knee, sometimes watched playing with +daisies on a lawn, or again, dabbling its hands in running water. It was +a wailing child this night, and a laughing one the next: now it nestled +close to me, and now it ran from me; but whatever mood the apparition +evinced, whatever aspect it wore, it failed not for seven successive +nights to meet me the moment I entered the land of slumber. + +I did not like this iteration of one idea--this strange recurrence of one +image, and I grew nervous as bedtime approached and the hour of the +vision drew near. It was from companionship with this baby-phantom I had +been roused on that moonlight night when I heard the cry; and it was on +the afternoon of the day following I was summoned downstairs by a message +that some one wanted me in Mrs. Fairfax's room. On repairing thither, I +found a man waiting for me, having the appearance of a gentleman's +servant: he was dressed in deep mourning, and the hat he held in his hand +was surrounded with a crape band. + +"I daresay you hardly remember me, Miss," he said, rising as I entered; +"but my name is Leaven: I lived coachman with Mrs. Reed when you were at +Gateshead, eight or nine years since, and I live there still." + +"Oh, Robert! how do you do? I remember you very well: you used to give +me a ride sometimes on Miss Georgiana's bay pony. And how is Bessie? You +are married to Bessie?" + +"Yes, Miss: my wife is very hearty, thank you; she brought me another +little one about two months since--we have three now--and both mother and +child are thriving." + +"And are the family well at the house, Robert?" + +"I am sorry I can't give you better news of them, Miss: they are very +badly at present--in great trouble." + +"I hope no one is dead," I said, glancing at his black dress. He too +looked down at the crape round his hat and replied-- + +"Mr. John died yesterday was a week, at his chambers in London." + +"Mr. John?" + +"Yes." + +"And how does his mother bear it?" + +"Why, you see, Miss Eyre, it is not a common mishap: his life has been +very wild: these last three years he gave himself up to strange ways, and +his death was shocking." + +"I heard from Bessie he was not doing well." + +"Doing well! He could not do worse: he ruined his health and his estate +amongst the worst men and the worst women. He got into debt and into +jail: his mother helped him out twice, but as soon as he was free he +returned to his old companions and habits. His head was not strong: the +knaves he lived amongst fooled him beyond anything I ever heard. He came +down to Gateshead about three weeks ago and wanted missis to give up all +to him. Missis refused: her means have long been much reduced by his +extravagance; so he went back again, and the next news was that he was +dead. How he died, God knows!--they say he killed himself." + +I was silent: the things were frightful. Robert Leaven resumed-- + +"Missis had been out of health herself for some time: she had got very +stout, but was not strong with it; and the loss of money and fear of +poverty were quite breaking her down. The information about Mr. John's +death and the manner of it came too suddenly: it brought on a stroke. She +was three days without speaking; but last Tuesday she seemed rather +better: she appeared as if she wanted to say something, and kept making +signs to my wife and mumbling. It was only yesterday morning, however, +that Bessie understood she was pronouncing your name; and at last she +made out the words, 'Bring Jane--fetch Jane Eyre: I want to speak to +her.' Bessie is not sure whether she is in her right mind, or means +anything by the words; but she told Miss Reed and Miss Georgiana, and +advised them to send for you. The young ladies put it off at first; but +their mother grew so restless, and said, 'Jane, Jane,' so many times, +that at last they consented. I left Gateshead yesterday: and if you can +get ready, Miss, I should like to take you back with me early to-morrow +morning." + +"Yes, Robert, I shall be ready: it seems to me that I ought to go." + +"I think so too, Miss. Bessie said she was sure you would not refuse: +but I suppose you will have to ask leave before you can get off?" + +"Yes; and I will do it now;" and having directed him to the servants' +hall, and recommended him to the care of John's wife, and the attentions +of John himself, I went in search of Mr. Rochester. + +He was not in any of the lower rooms; he was not in the yard, the +stables, or the grounds. I asked Mrs. Fairfax if she had seen him;--yes: +she believed he was playing billiards with Miss Ingram. To the billiard- +room I hastened: the click of balls and the hum of voices resounded +thence; Mr. Rochester, Miss Ingram, the two Misses Eshton, and their +admirers, were all busied in the game. It required some courage to +disturb so interesting a party; my errand, however, was one I could not +defer, so I approached the master where he stood at Miss Ingram's side. +She turned as I drew near, and looked at me haughtily: her eyes seemed to +demand, "What can the creeping creature want now?" and when I said, in a +low voice, "Mr. Rochester," she made a movement as if tempted to order me +away. I remember her appearance at the moment--it was very graceful and +very striking: she wore a morning robe of sky-blue crape; a gauzy azure +scarf was twisted in her hair. She had been all animation with the game, +and irritated pride did not lower the expression of her haughty +lineaments. + +"Does that person want you?" she inquired of Mr. Rochester; and Mr. +Rochester turned to see who the "person" was. He made a curious +grimace--one of his strange and equivocal demonstrations--threw down his +cue and followed me from the room. + +"Well, Jane?" he said, as he rested his back against the schoolroom door, +which he had shut. + +"If you please, sir, I want leave of absence for a week or two." + +"What to do?--where to go?" + +"To see a sick lady who has sent for me." + +"What sick lady?--where does she live?" + +"At Gateshead; in ---shire." + +"-shire? That is a hundred miles off! Who may she be that sends for +people to see her that distance?" + +"Her name is Reed, sir--Mrs. Reed." + +"Reed of Gateshead? There was a Reed of Gateshead, a magistrate." + +"It is his widow, sir." + +"And what have you to do with her? How do you know her?" + +"Mr. Reed was my uncle--my mother's brother." + +"The deuce he was! You never told me that before: you always said you +had no relations." + +"None that would own me, sir. Mr. Reed is dead, and his wife cast me +off." + +"Why?" + +"Because I was poor, and burdensome, and she disliked me." + +"But Reed left children?--you must have cousins? Sir George Lynn was +talking of a Reed of Gateshead yesterday, who, he said, was one of the +veriest rascals on town; and Ingram was mentioning a Georgiana Reed of +the same place, who was much admired for her beauty a season or two ago +in London." + +"John Reed is dead, too, sir: he ruined himself and half-ruined his +family, and is supposed to have committed suicide. The news so shocked +his mother that it brought on an apoplectic attack." + +"And what good can you do her? Nonsense, Jane! I would never think of +running a hundred miles to see an old lady who will, perhaps, be dead +before you reach her: besides, you say she cast you off." + +"Yes, sir, but that is long ago; and when her circumstances were very +different: I could not be easy to neglect her wishes now." + +"How long will you stay?" + +"As short a time as possible, sir." + +"Promise me only to stay a week--" + +"I had better not pass my word: I might be obliged to break it." + +"At all events you _will_ come back: you will not be induced under any +pretext to take up a permanent residence with her?" + +"Oh, no! I shall certainly return if all be well." + +"And who goes with you? You don't travel a hundred miles alone." + +"No, sir, she has sent her coachman." + +"A person to be trusted?" + +"Yes, sir, he has lived ten years in the family." + +Mr. Rochester meditated. "When do you wish to go?" + +"Early to-morrow morning, sir." + +"Well, you must have some money; you can't travel without money, and I +daresay you have not much: I have given you no salary yet. How much have +you in the world, Jane?" he asked, smiling. + +I drew out my purse; a meagre thing it was. "Five shillings, sir." He +took the purse, poured the hoard into his palm, and chuckled over it as +if its scantiness amused him. Soon he produced his pocket-book: "Here," +said he, offering me a note; it was fifty pounds, and he owed me but +fifteen. I told him I had no change. + +"I don't want change; you know that. Take your wages." + +I declined accepting more than was my due. He scowled at first; then, as +if recollecting something, he said-- + +"Right, right! Better not give you all now: you would, perhaps, stay +away three months if you had fifty pounds. There are ten; is it not +plenty?" + +"Yes, sir, but now you owe me five." + +"Come back for it, then; I am your banker for forty pounds." + +"Mr. Rochester, I may as well mention another matter of business to you +while I have the opportunity." + +"Matter of business? I am curious to hear it." + +"You have as good as informed me, sir, that you are going shortly to be +married?" + +"Yes; what then?" + +"In that case, sir, Adele ought to go to school: I am sure you will +perceive the necessity of it." + +"To get her out of my bride's way, who might otherwise walk over her +rather too emphatically? There's sense in the suggestion; not a doubt of +it. Adele, as you say, must go to school; and you, of course, must march +straight to--the devil?" + +"I hope not, sir; but I must seek another situation somewhere." + +"In course!" he exclaimed, with a twang of voice and a distortion of +features equally fantastic and ludicrous. He looked at me some minutes. + +"And old Madam Reed, or the Misses, her daughters, will be solicited by +you to seek a place, I suppose?" + +"No, sir; I am not on such terms with my relatives as would justify me in +asking favours of them--but I shall advertise." + +"You shall walk up the pyramids of Egypt!" he growled. "At your peril +you advertise! I wish I had only offered you a sovereign instead of ten +pounds. Give me back nine pounds, Jane; I've a use for it." + +"And so have I, sir," I returned, putting my hands and my purse behind +me. "I could not spare the money on any account." + +"Little niggard!" said he, "refusing me a pecuniary request! Give me +five pounds, Jane." + +"Not five shillings, sir; nor five pence." + +"Just let me look at the cash." + +"No, sir; you are not to be trusted." + +"Jane!" + +"Sir?" + +"Promise me one thing." + +"I'll promise you anything, sir, that I think I am likely to perform." + +"Not to advertise: and to trust this quest of a situation to me. I'll +find you one in time." + +"I shall be glad so to do, sir, if you, in your turn, will promise that I +and Adele shall be both safe out of the house before your bride enters +it." + +"Very well! very well! I'll pledge my word on it. You go to-morrow, +then?" + +"Yes, sir; early." + +"Shall you come down to the drawing-room after dinner?" + +"No, sir, I must prepare for the journey." + +"Then you and I must bid good-bye for a little while?" + +"I suppose so, sir." + +"And how do people perform that ceremony of parting, Jane? Teach me; I'm +not quite up to it." + +"They say, Farewell, or any other form they prefer." + +"Then say it." + +"Farewell, Mr. Rochester, for the present." + +"What must I say?" + +"The same, if you like, sir." + +"Farewell, Miss Eyre, for the present; is that all?" + +"Yes?" + +"It seems stingy, to my notions, and dry, and unfriendly. I should like +something else: a little addition to the rite. If one shook hands, for +instance; but no--that would not content me either. So you'll do no more +than say Farewell, Jane?" + +"It is enough, sir: as much good-will may be conveyed in one hearty word +as in many." + +"Very likely; but it is blank and cool--'Farewell.'" + +"How long is he going to stand with his back against that door?" I asked +myself; "I want to commence my packing." The dinner-bell rang, and +suddenly away he bolted, without another syllable: I saw him no more +during the day, and was off before he had risen in the morning. + +I reached the lodge at Gateshead about five o'clock in the afternoon of +the first of May: I stepped in there before going up to the hall. It was +very clean and neat: the ornamental windows were hung with little white +curtains; the floor was spotless; the grate and fire-irons were burnished +bright, and the fire burnt clear. Bessie sat on the hearth, nursing her +last-born, and Robert and his sister played quietly in a corner. + +"Bless you!--I knew you would come!" exclaimed Mrs. Leaven, as I entered. + +"Yes, Bessie," said I, after I had kissed her; "and I trust I am not too +late. How is Mrs. Reed?--Alive still, I hope." + +"Yes, she is alive; and more sensible and collected than she was. The +doctor says she may linger a week or two yet; but he hardly thinks she +will finally recover." + +"Has she mentioned me lately?" + +"She was talking of you only this morning, and wishing you would come, +but she is sleeping now, or was ten minutes ago, when I was up at the +house. She generally lies in a kind of lethargy all the afternoon, and +wakes up about six or seven. Will you rest yourself here an hour, Miss, +and then I will go up with you?" + +Robert here entered, and Bessie laid her sleeping child in the cradle and +went to welcome him: afterwards she insisted on my taking off my bonnet +and having some tea; for she said I looked pale and tired. I was glad to +accept her hospitality; and I submitted to be relieved of my travelling +garb just as passively as I used to let her undress me when a child. + +Old times crowded fast back on me as I watched her bustling about--setting +out the tea-tray with her best china, cutting bread and butter, toasting +a tea-cake, and, between whiles, giving little Robert or Jane an +occasional tap or push, just as she used to give me in former days. +Bessie had retained her quick temper as well as her light foot and good +looks. + +Tea ready, I was going to approach the table; but she desired me to sit +still, quite in her old peremptory tones. I must be served at the +fireside, she said; and she placed before me a little round stand with my +cup and a plate of toast, absolutely as she used to accommodate me with +some privately purloined dainty on a nursery chair: and I smiled and +obeyed her as in bygone days. + +She wanted to know if I was happy at Thornfield Hall, and what sort of a +person the mistress was; and when I told her there was only a master, +whether he was a nice gentleman, and if I liked him. I told her he was +rather an ugly man, but quite a gentleman; and that he treated me kindly, +and I was content. Then I went on to describe to her the gay company +that had lately been staying at the house; and to these details Bessie +listened with interest: they were precisely of the kind she relished. + +In such conversation an hour was soon gone: Bessie restored to me my +bonnet, &c., and, accompanied by her, I quitted the lodge for the hall. +It was also accompanied by her that I had, nearly nine years ago, walked +down the path I was now ascending. On a dark, misty, raw morning in +January, I had left a hostile roof with a desperate and embittered +heart--a sense of outlawry and almost of reprobation--to seek the chilly +harbourage of Lowood: that bourne so far away and unexplored. The same +hostile roof now again rose before me: my prospects were doubtful yet; +and I had yet an aching heart. I still felt as a wanderer on the face of +the earth; but I experienced firmer trust in myself and my own powers, +and less withering dread of oppression. The gaping wound of my wrongs, +too, was now quite healed; and the flame of resentment extinguished. + +"You shall go into the breakfast-room first," said Bessie, as she +preceded me through the hall; "the young ladies will be there." + +In another moment I was within that apartment. There was every article +of furniture looking just as it did on the morning I was first introduced +to Mr. Brocklehurst: the very rug he had stood upon still covered the +hearth. Glancing at the bookcases, I thought I could distinguish the two +volumes of Bewick's British Birds occupying their old place on the third +shelf, and Gulliver's Travels and the Arabian Nights ranged just above. +The inanimate objects were not changed; but the living things had altered +past recognition. + +Two young ladies appeared before me; one very tall, almost as tall as +Miss Ingram--very thin too, with a sallow face and severe mien. There +was something ascetic in her look, which was augmented by the extreme +plainness of a straight-skirted, black, stuff dress, a starched linen +collar, hair combed away from the temples, and the nun-like ornament of a +string of ebony beads and a crucifix. This I felt sure was Eliza, though +I could trace little resemblance to her former self in that elongated and +colourless visage. + +The other was as certainly Georgiana: but not the Georgiana I +remembered--the slim and fairy-like girl of eleven. This was a +full-blown, very plump damsel, fair as waxwork, with handsome and regular +features, languishing blue eyes, and ringleted yellow hair. The hue of +her dress was black too; but its fashion was so different from her +sister's--so much more flowing and becoming--it looked as stylish as the +other's looked puritanical. + +In each of the sisters there was one trait of the mother--and only one; +the thin and pallid elder daughter had her parent's Cairngorm eye: the +blooming and luxuriant younger girl had her contour of jaw and +chin--perhaps a little softened, but still imparting an indescribable +hardness to the countenance otherwise so voluptuous and buxom. + +Both ladies, as I advanced, rose to welcome me, and both addressed me by +the name of "Miss Eyre." Eliza's greeting was delivered in a short, +abrupt voice, without a smile; and then she sat down again, fixed her +eyes on the fire, and seemed to forget me. Georgiana added to her "How +d'ye do?" several commonplaces about my journey, the weather, and so on, +uttered in rather a drawling tone: and accompanied by sundry side-glances +that measured me from head to foot--now traversing the folds of my drab +merino pelisse, and now lingering on the plain trimming of my cottage +bonnet. Young ladies have a remarkable way of letting you know that they +think you a "quiz" without actually saying the words. A certain +superciliousness of look, coolness of manner, nonchalance of tone, +express fully their sentiments on the point, without committing them by +any positive rudeness in word or deed. + +A sneer, however, whether covert or open, had now no longer that power +over me it once possessed: as I sat between my cousins, I was surprised +to find how easy I felt under the total neglect of the one and the semi- +sarcastic attentions of the other--Eliza did not mortify, nor Georgiana +ruffle me. The fact was, I had other things to think about; within the +last few months feelings had been stirred in me so much more potent than +any they could raise--pains and pleasures so much more acute and +exquisite had been excited than any it was in their power to inflict or +bestow--that their airs gave me no concern either for good or bad. + +"How is Mrs. Reed?" I asked soon, looking calmly at Georgiana, who +thought fit to bridle at the direct address, as if it were an unexpected +liberty. + +"Mrs. Reed? Ah! mama, you mean; she is extremely poorly: I doubt if you +can see her to-night." + +"If," said I, "you would just step upstairs and tell her I am come, I +should be much obliged to you." + +Georgiana almost started, and she opened her blue eyes wild and wide. "I +know she had a particular wish to see me," I added, "and I would not +defer attending to her desire longer than is absolutely necessary." + +"Mama dislikes being disturbed in an evening," remarked Eliza. I soon +rose, quietly took off my bonnet and gloves, uninvited, and said I would +just step out to Bessie--who was, I dared say, in the kitchen--and ask +her to ascertain whether Mrs. Reed was disposed to receive me or not to- +night. I went, and having found Bessie and despatched her on my errand, +I proceeded to take further measures. It had heretofore been my habit +always to shrink from arrogance: received as I had been to-day, I should, +a year ago, have resolved to quit Gateshead the very next morning; now, +it was disclosed to me all at once that that would be a foolish plan. I +had taken a journey of a hundred miles to see my aunt, and I must stay +with her till she was better--or dead: as to her daughters' pride or +folly, I must put it on one side, make myself independent of it. So I +addressed the housekeeper; asked her to show me a room, told her I should +probably be a visitor here for a week or two, had my trunk conveyed to my +chamber, and followed it thither myself: I met Bessie on the landing. + +"Missis is awake," said she; "I have told her you are here: come and let +us see if she will know you." + +I did not need to be guided to the well-known room, to which I had so +often been summoned for chastisement or reprimand in former days. I +hastened before Bessie; I softly opened the door: a shaded light stood on +the table, for it was now getting dark. There was the great four-post +bed with amber hangings as of old; there the toilet-table, the armchair, +and the footstool, at which I had a hundred times been sentenced to +kneel, to ask pardon for offences by me uncommitted. I looked into a +certain corner near, half-expecting to see the slim outline of a once +dreaded switch which used to lurk there, waiting to leap out imp-like and +lace my quivering palm or shrinking neck. I approached the bed; I opened +the curtains and leant over the high-piled pillows. + +Well did I remember Mrs. Reed's face, and I eagerly sought the familiar +image. It is a happy thing that time quells the longings of vengeance +and hushes the promptings of rage and aversion. I had left this woman in +bitterness and hate, and I came back to her now with no other emotion +than a sort of ruth for her great sufferings, and a strong yearning to +forget and forgive all injuries--to be reconciled and clasp hands in +amity. + +The well-known face was there: stern, relentless as ever--there was that +peculiar eye which nothing could melt, and the somewhat raised, +imperious, despotic eyebrow. How often had it lowered on me menace and +hate! and how the recollection of childhood's terrors and sorrows revived +as I traced its harsh line now! And yet I stooped down and kissed her: +she looked at me. + +"Is this Jane Eyre?" she said. + +"Yes, Aunt Reed. How are you, dear aunt?" + +I had once vowed that I would never call her aunt again: I thought it no +sin to forget and break that vow now. My fingers had fastened on her +hand which lay outside the sheet: had she pressed mine kindly, I should +at that moment have experienced true pleasure. But unimpressionable +natures are not so soon softened, nor are natural antipathies so readily +eradicated. Mrs. Reed took her hand away, and, turning her face rather +from me, she remarked that the night was warm. Again she regarded me so +icily, I felt at once that her opinion of me--her feeling towards me--was +unchanged and unchangeable. I knew by her stony eye--opaque to +tenderness, indissoluble to tears--that she was resolved to consider me +bad to the last; because to believe me good would give her no generous +pleasure: only a sense of mortification. + +I felt pain, and then I felt ire; and then I felt a determination to +subdue her--to be her mistress in spite both of her nature and her will. +My tears had risen, just as in childhood: I ordered them back to their +source. I brought a chair to the bed-head: I sat down and leaned over +the pillow. + +"You sent for me," I said, "and I am here; and it is my intention to stay +till I see how you get on." + +"Oh, of course! You have seen my daughters?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, you may tell them I wish you to stay till I can talk some things +over with you I have on my mind: to-night it is too late, and I have a +difficulty in recalling them. But there was something I wished to +say--let me see--" + +The wandering look and changed utterance told what wreck had taken place +in her once vigorous frame. Turning restlessly, she drew the bedclothes +round her; my elbow, resting on a corner of the quilt, fixed it down: she +was at once irritated. + +"Sit up!" said she; "don't annoy me with holding the clothes fast. Are +you Jane Eyre?" + +"I am Jane Eyre." + +"I have had more trouble with that child than any one would believe. Such +a burden to be left on my hands--and so much annoyance as she caused me, +daily and hourly, with her incomprehensible disposition, and her sudden +starts of temper, and her continual, unnatural watchings of one's +movements! I declare she talked to me once like something mad, or like a +fiend--no child ever spoke or looked as she did; I was glad to get her +away from the house. What did they do with her at Lowood? The fever +broke out there, and many of the pupils died. She, however, did not die: +but I said she did--I wish she had died!" + +"A strange wish, Mrs. Reed; why do you hate her so?" + +"I had a dislike to her mother always; for she was my husband's only +sister, and a great favourite with him: he opposed the family's disowning +her when she made her low marriage; and when news came of her death, he +wept like a simpleton. He would send for the baby; though I entreated +him rather to put it out to nurse and pay for its maintenance. I hated +it the first time I set my eyes on it--a sickly, whining, pining thing! +It would wail in its cradle all night long--not screaming heartily like +any other child, but whimpering and moaning. Reed pitied it; and he used +to nurse it and notice it as if it had been his own: more, indeed, than +he ever noticed his own at that age. He would try to make my children +friendly to the little beggar: the darlings could not bear it, and he was +angry with them when they showed their dislike. In his last illness, he +had it brought continually to his bedside; and but an hour before he +died, he bound me by vow to keep the creature. I would as soon have been +charged with a pauper brat out of a workhouse: but he was weak, naturally +weak. John does not at all resemble his father, and I am glad of it: +John is like me and like my brothers--he is quite a Gibson. Oh, I wish +he would cease tormenting me with letters for money? I have no more +money to give him: we are getting poor. I must send away half the +servants and shut up part of the house; or let it off. I can never +submit to do that--yet how are we to get on? Two-thirds of my income +goes in paying the interest of mortgages. John gambles dreadfully, and +always loses--poor boy! He is beset by sharpers: John is sunk and +degraded--his look is frightful--I feel ashamed for him when I see him." + +She was getting much excited. "I think I had better leave her now," said +I to Bessie, who stood on the other side of the bed. + +"Perhaps you had, Miss: but she often talks in this way towards night--in +the morning she is calmer." + +I rose. "Stop!" exclaimed Mrs. Reed, "there is another thing I wished to +say. He threatens me--he continually threatens me with his own death, or +mine: and I dream sometimes that I see him laid out with a great wound in +his throat, or with a swollen and blackened face. I am come to a strange +pass: I have heavy troubles. What is to be done? How is the money to be +had?" + +Bessie now endeavoured to persuade her to take a sedative draught: she +succeeded with difficulty. Soon after, Mrs. Reed grew more composed, and +sank into a dozing state. I then left her. + +More than ten days elapsed before I had again any conversation with her. +She continued either delirious or lethargic; and the doctor forbade +everything which could painfully excite her. Meantime, I got on as well +as I could with Georgiana and Eliza. They were very cold, indeed, at +first. Eliza would sit half the day sewing, reading, or writing, and +scarcely utter a word either to me or her sister. Georgiana would +chatter nonsense to her canary bird by the hour, and take no notice of +me. But I was determined not to seem at a loss for occupation or +amusement: I had brought my drawing materials with me, and they served me +for both. + +Provided with a case of pencils, and some sheets of paper, I used to take +a seat apart from them, near the window, and busy myself in sketching +fancy vignettes, representing any scene that happened momentarily to +shape itself in the ever-shifting kaleidoscope of imagination: a glimpse +of sea between two rocks; the rising moon, and a ship crossing its disk; +a group of reeds and water-flags, and a naiad's head, crowned with lotus- +flowers, rising out of them; an elf sitting in a hedge-sparrow's nest, +under a wreath of hawthorn-bloom. + +One morning I fell to sketching a face: what sort of a face it was to be, +I did not care or know. I took a soft black pencil, gave it a broad +point, and worked away. Soon I had traced on the paper a broad and +prominent forehead and a square lower outline of visage: that contour +gave me pleasure; my fingers proceeded actively to fill it with features. +Strongly-marked horizontal eyebrows must be traced under that brow; then +followed, naturally, a well-defined nose, with a straight ridge and full +nostrils; then a flexible-looking mouth, by no means narrow; then a firm +chin, with a decided cleft down the middle of it: of course, some black +whiskers were wanted, and some jetty hair, tufted on the temples, and +waved above the forehead. Now for the eyes: I had left them to the last, +because they required the most careful working. I drew them large; I +shaped them well: the eyelashes I traced long and sombre; the irids +lustrous and large. "Good! but not quite the thing," I thought, as I +surveyed the effect: "they want more force and spirit;" and I wrought the +shades blacker, that the lights might flash more brilliantly--a happy +touch or two secured success. There, I had a friend's face under my +gaze; and what did it signify that those young ladies turned their backs +on me? I looked at it; I smiled at the speaking likeness: I was absorbed +and content. + +"Is that a portrait of some one you know?" asked Eliza, who had +approached me unnoticed. I responded that it was merely a fancy head, +and hurried it beneath the other sheets. Of course, I lied: it was, in +fact, a very faithful representation of Mr. Rochester. But what was that +to her, or to any one but myself? Georgiana also advanced to look. The +other drawings pleased her much, but she called that "an ugly man." They +both seemed surprised at my skill. I offered to sketch their portraits; +and each, in turn, sat for a pencil outline. Then Georgiana produced her +album. I promised to contribute a water-colour drawing: this put her at +once into good humour. She proposed a walk in the grounds. Before we +had been out two hours, we were deep in a confidential conversation: she +had favoured me with a description of the brilliant winter she had spent +in London two seasons ago--of the admiration she had there excited--the +attention she had received; and I even got hints of the titled conquest +she had made. In the course of the afternoon and evening these hints +were enlarged on: various soft conversations were reported, and +sentimental scenes represented; and, in short, a volume of a novel of +fashionable life was that day improvised by her for my benefit. The +communications were renewed from day to day: they always ran on the same +theme--herself, her loves, and woes. It was strange she never once +adverted either to her mother's illness, or her brother's death, or the +present gloomy state of the family prospects. Her mind seemed wholly +taken up with reminiscences of past gaiety, and aspirations after +dissipations to come. She passed about five minutes each day in her +mother's sick-room, and no more. + +Eliza still spoke little: she had evidently no time to talk. I never saw +a busier person than she seemed to be; yet it was difficult to say what +she did: or rather, to discover any result of her diligence. She had an +alarm to call her up early. I know not how she occupied herself before +breakfast, but after that meal she divided her time into regular +portions, and each hour had its allotted task. Three times a day she +studied a little book, which I found, on inspection, was a Common Prayer +Book. I asked her once what was the great attraction of that volume, and +she said, "the Rubric." Three hours she gave to stitching, with gold +thread, the border of a square crimson cloth, almost large enough for a +carpet. In answer to my inquiries after the use of this article, she +informed me it was a covering for the altar of a new church lately +erected near Gateshead. Two hours she devoted to her diary; two to +working by herself in the kitchen-garden; and one to the regulation of +her accounts. She seemed to want no company; no conversation. I believe +she was happy in her way: this routine sufficed for her; and nothing +annoyed her so much as the occurrence of any incident which forced her to +vary its clockwork regularity. + +She told me one evening, when more disposed to be communicative than +usual, that John's conduct, and the threatened ruin of the family, had +been a source of profound affliction to her: but she had now, she said, +settled her mind, and formed her resolution. Her own fortune she had +taken care to secure; and when her mother died--and it was wholly +improbable, she tranquilly remarked, that she should either recover or +linger long--she would execute a long-cherished project: seek a +retirement where punctual habits would be permanently secured from +disturbance, and place safe barriers between herself and a frivolous +world. I asked if Georgiana would accompany her. + +"Of course not. Georgiana and she had nothing in common: they never had +had. She would not be burdened with her society for any consideration. +Georgiana should take her own course; and she, Eliza, would take hers." + +Georgiana, when not unburdening her heart to me, spent most of her time +in lying on the sofa, fretting about the dulness of the house, and +wishing over and over again that her aunt Gibson would send her an +invitation up to town. "It would be so much better," she said, "if she +could only get out of the way for a month or two, till all was over." I +did not ask what she meant by "all being over," but I suppose she +referred to the expected decease of her mother and the gloomy sequel of +funeral rites. Eliza generally took no more notice of her sister's +indolence and complaints than if no such murmuring, lounging object had +been before her. One day, however, as she put away her account-book and +unfolded her embroidery, she suddenly took her up thus-- + +"Georgiana, a more vain and absurd animal than you was certainly never +allowed to cumber the earth. You had no right to be born, for you make +no use of life. Instead of living for, in, and with yourself, as a +reasonable being ought, you seek only to fasten your feebleness on some +other person's strength: if no one can be found willing to burden her or +himself with such a fat, weak, puffy, useless thing, you cry out that you +are ill-treated, neglected, miserable. Then, too, existence for you must +be a scene of continual change and excitement, or else the world is a +dungeon: you must be admired, you must be courted, you must be +flattered--you must have music, dancing, and society--or you languish, +you die away. Have you no sense to devise a system which will make you +independent of all efforts, and all wills, but your own? Take one day; +share it into sections; to each section apportion its task: leave no +stray unemployed quarters of an hour, ten minutes, five minutes--include +all; do each piece of business in its turn with method, with rigid +regularity. The day will close almost before you are aware it has begun; +and you are indebted to no one for helping you to get rid of one vacant +moment: you have had to seek no one's company, conversation, sympathy, +forbearance; you have lived, in short, as an independent being ought to +do. Take this advice: the first and last I shall offer you; then you +will not want me or any one else, happen what may. Neglect it--go on as +heretofore, craving, whining, and idling--and suffer the results of your +idiocy, however bad and insuperable they may be. I tell you this +plainly; and listen: for though I shall no more repeat what I am now +about to say, I shall steadily act on it. After my mother's death, I +wash my hands of you: from the day her coffin is carried to the vault in +Gateshead Church, you and I will be as separate as if we had never known +each other. You need not think that because we chanced to be born of the +same parents, I shall suffer you to fasten me down by even the feeblest +claim: I can tell you this--if the whole human race, ourselves excepted, +were swept away, and we two stood alone on the earth, I would leave you +in the old world, and betake myself to the new." + +She closed her lips. + +"You might have spared yourself the trouble of delivering that tirade," +answered Georgiana. "Everybody knows you are the most selfish, heartless +creature in existence: and _I_ know your spiteful hatred towards me: I +have had a specimen of it before in the trick you played me about Lord +Edwin Vere: you could not bear me to be raised above you, to have a +title, to be received into circles where you dare not show your face, and +so you acted the spy and informer, and ruined my prospects for ever." +Georgiana took out her handkerchief and blew her nose for an hour +afterwards; Eliza sat cold, impassable, and assiduously industrious. + +True, generous feeling is made small account of by some, but here were +two natures rendered, the one intolerably acrid, the other despicably +savourless for the want of it. Feeling without judgment is a washy +draught indeed; but judgment untempered by feeling is too bitter and +husky a morsel for human deglutition. + +It was a wet and windy afternoon: Georgiana had fallen asleep on the sofa +over the perusal of a novel; Eliza was gone to attend a saint's-day +service at the new church--for in matters of religion she was a rigid +formalist: no weather ever prevented the punctual discharge of what she +considered her devotional duties; fair or foul, she went to church thrice +every Sunday, and as often on week-days as there were prayers. + +I bethought myself to go upstairs and see how the dying woman sped, who +lay there almost unheeded: the very servants paid her but a remittent +attention: the hired nurse, being little looked after, would slip out of +the room whenever she could. Bessie was faithful; but she had her own +family to mind, and could only come occasionally to the hall. I found +the sick-room unwatched, as I had expected: no nurse was there; the +patient lay still, and seemingly lethargic; her livid face sunk in the +pillows: the fire was dying in the grate. I renewed the fuel, +re-arranged the bedclothes, gazed awhile on her who could not now gaze on +me, and then I moved away to the window. + +The rain beat strongly against the panes, the wind blew tempestuously: +"One lies there," I thought, "who will soon be beyond the war of earthly +elements. Whither will that spirit--now struggling to quit its material +tenement--flit when at length released?" + +In pondering the great mystery, I thought of Helen Burns, recalled her +dying words--her faith--her doctrine of the equality of disembodied +souls. I was still listening in thought to her well-remembered +tones--still picturing her pale and spiritual aspect, her wasted face and +sublime gaze, as she lay on her placid deathbed, and whispered her +longing to be restored to her divine Father's bosom--when a feeble voice +murmured from the couch behind: "Who is that?" + +I knew Mrs. Reed had not spoken for days: was she reviving? I went up to +her. + +"It is I, Aunt Reed." + +"Who--I?" was her answer. "Who are you?" looking at me with surprise and +a sort of alarm, but still not wildly. "You are quite a stranger to +me--where is Bessie?" + +"She is at the lodge, aunt." + +"Aunt," she repeated. "Who calls me aunt? You are not one of the +Gibsons; and yet I know you--that face, and the eyes and forehead, are +quiet familiar to me: you are like--why, you are like Jane Eyre!" + +I said nothing: I was afraid of occasioning some shock by declaring my +identity. + +"Yet," said she, "I am afraid it is a mistake: my thoughts deceive me. I +wished to see Jane Eyre, and I fancy a likeness where none exists: +besides, in eight years she must be so changed." I now gently assured +her that I was the person she supposed and desired me to be: and seeing +that I was understood, and that her senses were quite collected, I +explained how Bessie had sent her husband to fetch me from Thornfield. + +"I am very ill, I know," she said ere long. "I was trying to turn myself +a few minutes since, and find I cannot move a limb. It is as well I +should ease my mind before I die: what we think little of in health, +burdens us at such an hour as the present is to me. Is the nurse here? +or is there no one in the room but you?" + +I assured her we were alone. + +"Well, I have twice done you a wrong which I regret now. One was in +breaking the promise which I gave my husband to bring you up as my own +child; the other--" she stopped. "After all, it is of no great +importance, perhaps," she murmured to herself: "and then I may get +better; and to humble myself so to her is painful." + +She made an effort to alter her position, but failed: her face changed; +she seemed to experience some inward sensation--the precursor, perhaps, +of the last pang. + +"Well, I must get it over. Eternity is before me: I had better tell +her.--Go to my dressing-case, open it, and take out a letter you will see +there." + +I obeyed her directions. "Read the letter," she said. + +It was short, and thus conceived:-- + + "Madam,--Will you have the goodness to send me the address of my + niece, Jane Eyre, and to tell me how she is? It is my intention to + write shortly and desire her to come to me at Madeira. Providence has + blessed my endeavours to secure a competency; and as I am unmarried + and childless, I wish to adopt her during my life, and bequeath her at + my death whatever I may have to leave.--I am, Madam, &c., &c., + + "JOHN EYRE, Madeira." + +It was dated three years back. + +"Why did I never hear of this?" I asked. + +"Because I disliked you too fixedly and thoroughly ever to lend a hand in +lifting you to prosperity. I could not forget your conduct to me, +Jane--the fury with which you once turned on me; the tone in which you +declared you abhorred me the worst of anybody in the world; the +unchildlike look and voice with which you affirmed that the very thought +of me made you sick, and asserted that I had treated you with miserable +cruelty. I could not forget my own sensations when you thus started up +and poured out the venom of your mind: I felt fear as if an animal that I +had struck or pushed had looked up at me with human eyes and cursed me in +a man's voice.--Bring me some water! Oh, make haste!" + +"Dear Mrs. Reed," said I, as I offered her the draught she required, +"think no more of all this, let it pass away from your mind. Forgive me +for my passionate language: I was a child then; eight, nine years have +passed since that day." + +She heeded nothing of what I said; but when she had tasted the water and +drawn breath, she went on thus-- + +"I tell you I could not forget it; and I took my revenge: for you to be +adopted by your uncle, and placed in a state of ease and comfort, was +what I could not endure. I wrote to him; I said I was sorry for his +disappointment, but Jane Eyre was dead: she had died of typhus fever at +Lowood. Now act as you please: write and contradict my assertion--expose +my falsehood as soon as you like. You were born, I think, to be my +torment: my last hour is racked by the recollection of a deed which, but +for you, I should never have been tempted to commit." + +"If you could but be persuaded to think no more of it, aunt, and to +regard me with kindness and forgiveness" + +"You have a very bad disposition," said she, "and one to this day I feel +it impossible to understand: how for nine years you could be patient and +quiescent under any treatment, and in the tenth break out all fire and +violence, I can never comprehend." + +"My disposition is not so bad as you think: I am passionate, but not +vindictive. Many a time, as a little child, I should have been glad to +love you if you would have let me; and I long earnestly to be reconciled +to you now: kiss me, aunt." + +I approached my cheek to her lips: she would not touch it. She said I +oppressed her by leaning over the bed, and again demanded water. As I +laid her down--for I raised her and supported her on my arm while she +drank--I covered her ice-cold and clammy hand with mine: the feeble +fingers shrank from my touch--the glazing eyes shunned my gaze. + +"Love me, then, or hate me, as you will," I said at last, "you have my +full and free forgiveness: ask now for God's, and be at peace." + +Poor, suffering woman! it was too late for her to make now the effort to +change her habitual frame of mind: living, she had ever hated me--dying, +she must hate me still. + +The nurse now entered, and Bessie followed. I yet lingered half-an-hour +longer, hoping to see some sign of amity: but she gave none. She was +fast relapsing into stupor; nor did her mind again rally: at twelve +o'clock that night she died. I was not present to close her eyes, nor +were either of her daughters. They came to tell us the next morning that +all was over. She was by that time laid out. Eliza and I went to look +at her: Georgiana, who had burst out into loud weeping, said she dared +not go. There was stretched Sarah Reed's once robust and active frame, +rigid and still: her eye of flint was covered with its cold lid; her brow +and strong traits wore yet the impress of her inexorable soul. A strange +and solemn object was that corpse to me. I gazed on it with gloom and +pain: nothing soft, nothing sweet, nothing pitying, or hopeful, or +subduing did it inspire; only a grating anguish for _her_ woes--not _my_ +loss--and a sombre tearless dismay at the fearfulness of death in such a +form. + +Eliza surveyed her parent calmly. After a silence of some minutes she +observed-- + +"With her constitution she should have lived to a good old age: her life +was shortened by trouble." And then a spasm constricted her mouth for an +instant: as it passed away she turned and left the room, and so did I. +Neither of us had dropt a tear. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +Mr. Rochester had given me but one week's leave of absence: yet a month +elapsed before I quitted Gateshead. I wished to leave immediately after +the funeral, but Georgiana entreated me to stay till she could get off to +London, whither she was now at last invited by her uncle, Mr. Gibson, who +had come down to direct his sister's interment and settle the family +affairs. Georgiana said she dreaded being left alone with Eliza; from +her she got neither sympathy in her dejection, support in her fears, nor +aid in her preparations; so I bore with her feeble-minded wailings and +selfish lamentations as well as I could, and did my best in sewing for +her and packing her dresses. It is true, that while I worked, she would +idle; and I thought to myself, "If you and I were destined to live always +together, cousin, we would commence matters on a different footing. I +should not settle tamely down into being the forbearing party; I should +assign you your share of labour, and compel you to accomplish it, or else +it should be left undone: I should insist, also, on your keeping some of +those drawling, half-insincere complaints hushed in your own breast. It +is only because our connection happens to be very transitory, and comes +at a peculiarly mournful season, that I consent thus to render it so +patient and compliant on my part." + +At last I saw Georgiana off; but now it was Eliza's turn to request me to +stay another week. Her plans required all her time and attention, she +said; she was about to depart for some unknown bourne; and all day long +she stayed in her own room, her door bolted within, filling trunks, +emptying drawers, burning papers, and holding no communication with any +one. She wished me to look after the house, to see callers, and answer +notes of condolence. + +One morning she told me I was at liberty. "And," she added, "I am +obliged to you for your valuable services and discreet conduct! There is +some difference between living with such an one as you and with +Georgiana: you perform your own part in life and burden no one. +To-morrow," she continued, "I set out for the Continent. I shall take up +my abode in a religious house near Lisle--a nunnery you would call it; +there I shall be quiet and unmolested. I shall devote myself for a time +to the examination of the Roman Catholic dogmas, and to a careful study +of the workings of their system: if I find it to be, as I half suspect it +is, the one best calculated to ensure the doing of all things decently +and in order, I shall embrace the tenets of Rome and probably take the +veil." + +I neither expressed surprise at this resolution nor attempted to dissuade +her from it. "The vocation will fit you to a hair," I thought: "much +good may it do you!" + +When we parted, she said: "Good-bye, cousin Jane Eyre; I wish you well: +you have some sense." + +I then returned: "You are not without sense, cousin Eliza; but what you +have, I suppose, in another year will be walled up alive in a French +convent. However, it is not my business, and so it suits you, I don't +much care." + +"You are in the right," said she; and with these words we each went our +separate way. As I shall not have occasion to refer either to her or her +sister again, I may as well mention here, that Georgiana made an +advantageous match with a wealthy worn-out man of fashion, and that Eliza +actually took the veil, and is at this day superior of the convent where +she passed the period of her novitiate, and which she endowed with her +fortune. + +How people feel when they are returning home from an absence, long or +short, I did not know: I had never experienced the sensation. I had +known what it was to come back to Gateshead when a child after a long +walk, to be scolded for looking cold or gloomy; and later, what it was to +come back from church to Lowood, to long for a plenteous meal and a good +fire, and to be unable to get either. Neither of these returnings was +very pleasant or desirable: no magnet drew me to a given point, +increasing in its strength of attraction the nearer I came. The return +to Thornfield was yet to be tried. + +My journey seemed tedious--very tedious: fifty miles one day, a night +spent at an inn; fifty miles the next day. During the first twelve hours +I thought of Mrs. Reed in her last moments; I saw her disfigured and +discoloured face, and heard her strangely altered voice. I mused on the +funeral day, the coffin, the hearse, the black train of tenants and +servants--few was the number of relatives--the gaping vault, the silent +church, the solemn service. Then I thought of Eliza and Georgiana; I +beheld one the cynosure of a ball-room, the other the inmate of a convent +cell; and I dwelt on and analysed their separate peculiarities of person +and character. The evening arrival at the great town of--scattered these +thoughts; night gave them quite another turn: laid down on my traveller's +bed, I left reminiscence for anticipation. + +I was going back to Thornfield: but how long was I to stay there? Not +long; of that I was sure. I had heard from Mrs. Fairfax in the interim +of my absence: the party at the hall was dispersed; Mr. Rochester had +left for London three weeks ago, but he was then expected to return in a +fortnight. Mrs. Fairfax surmised that he was gone to make arrangements +for his wedding, as he had talked of purchasing a new carriage: she said +the idea of his marrying Miss Ingram still seemed strange to her; but +from what everybody said, and from what she had herself seen, she could +no longer doubt that the event would shortly take place. "You would be +strangely incredulous if you did doubt it," was my mental comment. "I +don't doubt it." + +The question followed, "Where was I to go?" I dreamt of Miss Ingram all +the night: in a vivid morning dream I saw her closing the gates of +Thornfield against me and pointing me out another road; and Mr. Rochester +looked on with his arms folded--smiling sardonically, as it seemed, at +both her and me. + +I had not notified to Mrs. Fairfax the exact day of my return; for I did +not wish either car or carriage to meet me at Millcote. I proposed to +walk the distance quietly by myself; and very quietly, after leaving my +box in the ostler's care, did I slip away from the George Inn, about six +o'clock of a June evening, and take the old road to Thornfield: a road +which lay chiefly through fields, and was now little frequented. + +It was not a bright or splendid summer evening, though fair and soft: the +haymakers were at work all along the road; and the sky, though far from +cloudless, was such as promised well for the future: its blue--where blue +was visible--was mild and settled, and its cloud strata high and thin. +The west, too, was warm: no watery gleam chilled it--it seemed as if +there was a fire lit, an altar burning behind its screen of marbled +vapour, and out of apertures shone a golden redness. + +I felt glad as the road shortened before me: so glad that I stopped once +to ask myself what that joy meant: and to remind reason that it was not +to my home I was going, or to a permanent resting-place, or to a place +where fond friends looked out for me and waited my arrival. "Mrs. +Fairfax will smile you a calm welcome, to be sure," said I; "and little +Adele will clap her hands and jump to see you: but you know very well you +are thinking of another than they, and that he is not thinking of you." + +But what is so headstrong as youth? What so blind as inexperience? These +affirmed that it was pleasure enough to have the privilege of again +looking on Mr. Rochester, whether he looked on me or not; and they +added--"Hasten! hasten! be with him while you may: but a few more days or +weeks, at most, and you are parted from him for ever!" And then I +strangled a new-born agony--a deformed thing which I could not persuade +myself to own and rear--and ran on. + +They are making hay, too, in Thornfield meadows: or rather, the labourers +are just quitting their work, and returning home with their rakes on +their shoulders, now, at the hour I arrive. I have but a field or two to +traverse, and then I shall cross the road and reach the gates. How full +the hedges are of roses! But I have no time to gather any; I want to be +at the house. I passed a tall briar, shooting leafy and flowery branches +across the path; I see the narrow stile with stone steps; and I see--Mr. +Rochester sitting there, a book and a pencil in his hand; he is writing. + +Well, he is not a ghost; yet every nerve I have is unstrung: for a moment +I am beyond my own mastery. What does it mean? I did not think I should +tremble in this way when I saw him, or lose my voice or the power of +motion in his presence. I will go back as soon as I can stir: I need not +make an absolute fool of myself. I know another way to the house. It +does not signify if I knew twenty ways; for he has seen me. + +"Hillo!" he cries; and he puts up his book and his pencil. "There you +are! Come on, if you please." + +I suppose I do come on; though in what fashion I know not; being scarcely +cognisant of my movements, and solicitous only to appear calm; and, above +all, to control the working muscles of my face--which I feel rebel +insolently against my will, and struggle to express what I had resolved +to conceal. But I have a veil--it is down: I may make shift yet to +behave with decent composure. + +"And this is Jane Eyre? Are you coming from Millcote, and on foot? +Yes--just one of your tricks: not to send for a carriage, and come +clattering over street and road like a common mortal, but to steal into +the vicinage of your home along with twilight, just as if you were a +dream or a shade. What the deuce have you done with yourself this last +month?" + +"I have been with my aunt, sir, who is dead." + +"A true Janian reply! Good angels be my guard! She comes from the other +world--from the abode of people who are dead; and tells me so when she +meets me alone here in the gloaming! If I dared, I'd touch you, to see +if you are substance or shadow, you elf!--but I'd as soon offer to take +hold of a blue _ignis fatuus_ light in a marsh. Truant! truant!" he +added, when he had paused an instant. "Absent from me a whole month, and +forgetting me quite, I'll be sworn!" + +I knew there would be pleasure in meeting my master again, even though +broken by the fear that he was so soon to cease to be my master, and by +the knowledge that I was nothing to him: but there was ever in Mr. +Rochester (so at least I thought) such a wealth of the power of +communicating happiness, that to taste but of the crumbs he scattered to +stray and stranger birds like me, was to feast genially. His last words +were balm: they seemed to imply that it imported something to him whether +I forgot him or not. And he had spoken of Thornfield as my home--would +that it were my home! + +He did not leave the stile, and I hardly liked to ask to go by. I +inquired soon if he had not been to London. + +"Yes; I suppose you found that out by second-sight." + +"Mrs. Fairfax told me in a letter." + +"And did she inform you what I went to do?" + +"Oh, yes, sir! Everybody knew your errand." + +"You must see the carriage, Jane, and tell me if you don't think it will +suit Mrs. Rochester exactly; and whether she won't look like Queen +Boadicea, leaning back against those purple cushions. I wish, Jane, I +were a trifle better adapted to match with her externally. Tell me now, +fairy as you are--can't you give me a charm, or a philter, or something +of that sort, to make me a handsome man?" + +"It would be past the power of magic, sir;" and, in thought, I added, "A +loving eye is all the charm needed: to such you are handsome enough; or +rather your sternness has a power beyond beauty." + +Mr. Rochester had sometimes read my unspoken thoughts with an acumen to +me incomprehensible: in the present instance he took no notice of my +abrupt vocal response; but he smiled at me with a certain smile he had of +his own, and which he used but on rare occasions. He seemed to think it +too good for common purposes: it was the real sunshine of feeling--he +shed it over me now. + +"Pass, Janet," said he, making room for me to cross the stile: "go up +home, and stay your weary little wandering feet at a friend's threshold." + +All I had now to do was to obey him in silence: no need for me to +colloquise further. I got over the stile without a word, and meant to +leave him calmly. An impulse held me fast--a force turned me round. I +said--or something in me said for me, and in spite of me-- + +"Thank you, Mr. Rochester, for your great kindness. I am strangely glad +to get back again to you: and wherever you are is my home--my only home." + +I walked on so fast that even he could hardly have overtaken me had he +tried. Little Adele was half wild with delight when she saw me. Mrs. +Fairfax received me with her usual plain friendliness. Leah smiled, and +even Sophie bid me "bon soir" with glee. This was very pleasant; there +is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow-creatures, and +feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort. + +I that evening shut my eyes resolutely against the future: I stopped my +cars against the voice that kept warning me of near separation and coming +grief. When tea was over and Mrs. Fairfax had taken her knitting, and I +had assumed a low seat near her, and Adele, kneeling on the carpet, had +nestled close up to me, and a sense of mutual affection seemed to +surround us with a ring of golden peace, I uttered a silent prayer that +we might not be parted far or soon; but when, as we thus sat, Mr. +Rochester entered, unannounced, and looking at us, seemed to take +pleasure in the spectacle of a group so amicable--when he said he +supposed the old lady was all right now that she had got her adopted +daughter back again, and added that he saw Adele was "prete a croquer sa +petite maman Anglaise"--I half ventured to hope that he would, even after +his marriage, keep us together somewhere under the shelter of his +protection, and not quite exiled from the sunshine of his presence. + +A fortnight of dubious calm succeeded my return to Thornfield Hall. +Nothing was said of the master's marriage, and I saw no preparation going +on for such an event. Almost every day I asked Mrs. Fairfax if she had +yet heard anything decided: her answer was always in the negative. Once +she said she had actually put the question to Mr. Rochester as to when he +was going to bring his bride home; but he had answered her only by a joke +and one of his queer looks, and she could not tell what to make of him. + +One thing specially surprised me, and that was, there were no journeyings +backward and forward, no visits to Ingram Park: to be sure it was twenty +miles off, on the borders of another county; but what was that distance +to an ardent lover? To so practised and indefatigable a horseman as Mr. +Rochester, it would be but a morning's ride. I began to cherish hopes I +had no right to conceive: that the match was broken off; that rumour had +been mistaken; that one or both parties had changed their minds. I used +to look at my master's face to see if it were sad or fierce; but I could +not remember the time when it had been so uniformly clear of clouds or +evil feelings. If, in the moments I and my pupil spent with him, I +lacked spirits and sank into inevitable dejection, he became even gay. +Never had he called me more frequently to his presence; never been kinder +to me when there--and, alas! never had I loved him so well. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +A splendid Midsummer shone over England: skies so pure, suns so radiant +as were then seen in long succession, seldom favour even singly, our wave- +girt land. It was as if a band of Italian days had come from the South, +like a flock of glorious passenger birds, and lighted to rest them on the +cliffs of Albion. The hay was all got in; the fields round Thornfield +were green and shorn; the roads white and baked; the trees were in their +dark prime; hedge and wood, full-leaved and deeply tinted, contrasted +well with the sunny hue of the cleared meadows between. + +On Midsummer-eve, Adele, weary with gathering wild strawberries in Hay +Lane half the day, had gone to bed with the sun. I watched her drop +asleep, and when I left her, I sought the garden. + +It was now the sweetest hour of the twenty-four:--"Day its fervid fires +had wasted," and dew fell cool on panting plain and scorched summit. +Where the sun had gone down in simple state--pure of the pomp of +clouds--spread a solemn purple, burning with the light of red jewel and +furnace flame at one point, on one hill-peak, and extending high and +wide, soft and still softer, over half heaven. The east had its own +charm or fine deep blue, and its own modest gem, a casino and solitary +star: soon it would boast the moon; but she was yet beneath the horizon. + +I walked a while on the pavement; but a subtle, well-known scent--that of +a cigar--stole from some window; I saw the library casement open a +handbreadth; I knew I might be watched thence; so I went apart into the +orchard. No nook in the grounds more sheltered and more Eden-like; it +was full of trees, it bloomed with flowers: a very high wall shut it out +from the court, on one side; on the other, a beech avenue screened it +from the lawn. At the bottom was a sunk fence; its sole separation from +lonely fields: a winding walk, bordered with laurels and terminating in a +giant horse-chestnut, circled at the base by a seat, led down to the +fence. Here one could wander unseen. While such honey-dew fell, such +silence reigned, such gloaming gathered, I felt as if I could haunt such +shade for ever; but in threading the flower and fruit parterres at the +upper part of the enclosure, enticed there by the light the now rising +moon cast on this more open quarter, my step is stayed--not by sound, not +by sight, but once more by a warning fragrance. + +Sweet-briar and southernwood, jasmine, pink, and rose have long been +yielding their evening sacrifice of incense: this new scent is neither of +shrub nor flower; it is--I know it well--it is Mr. Rochester's cigar. I +look round and I listen. I see trees laden with ripening fruit. I hear +a nightingale warbling in a wood half a mile off; no moving form is +visible, no coming step audible; but that perfume increases: I must flee. +I make for the wicket leading to the shrubbery, and I see Mr. Rochester +entering. I step aside into the ivy recess; he will not stay long: he +will soon return whence he came, and if I sit still he will never see me. + +But no--eventide is as pleasant to him as to me, and this antique garden +as attractive; and he strolls on, now lifting the gooseberry-tree +branches to look at the fruit, large as plums, with which they are laden; +now taking a ripe cherry from the wall; now stooping towards a knot of +flowers, either to inhale their fragrance or to admire the dew-beads on +their petals. A great moth goes humming by me; it alights on a plant at +Mr. Rochester's foot: he sees it, and bends to examine it. + +"Now, he has his back towards me," thought I, "and he is occupied too; +perhaps, if I walk softly, I can slip away unnoticed." + +I trode on an edging of turf that the crackle of the pebbly gravel might +not betray me: he was standing among the beds at a yard or two distant +from where I had to pass; the moth apparently engaged him. "I shall get +by very well," I meditated. As I crossed his shadow, thrown long over +the garden by the moon, not yet risen high, he said quietly, without +turning-- + +"Jane, come and look at this fellow." + +I had made no noise: he had not eyes behind--could his shadow feel? I +started at first, and then I approached him. + +"Look at his wings," said he, "he reminds me rather of a West Indian +insect; one does not often see so large and gay a night-rover in England; +there! he is flown." + +The moth roamed away. I was sheepishly retreating also; but Mr. +Rochester followed me, and when we reached the wicket, he said-- + +"Turn back: on so lovely a night it is a shame to sit in the house; and +surely no one can wish to go to bed while sunset is thus at meeting with +moonrise." + +It is one of my faults, that though my tongue is sometimes prompt enough +at an answer, there are times when it sadly fails me in framing an +excuse; and always the lapse occurs at some crisis, when a facile word or +plausible pretext is specially wanted to get me out of painful +embarrassment. I did not like to walk at this hour alone with Mr. +Rochester in the shadowy orchard; but I could not find a reason to allege +for leaving him. I followed with lagging step, and thoughts busily bent +on discovering a means of extrication; but he himself looked so composed +and so grave also, I became ashamed of feeling any confusion: the evil--if +evil existent or prospective there was--seemed to lie with me only; his +mind was unconscious and quiet. + +"Jane," he recommenced, as we entered the laurel walk, and slowly strayed +down in the direction of the sunk fence and the horse-chestnut, +"Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer, is it not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You must have become in some degree attached to the house,--you, who +have an eye for natural beauties, and a good deal of the organ of +Adhesiveness?" + +"I am attached to it, indeed." + +"And though I don't comprehend how it is, I perceive you have acquired a +degree of regard for that foolish little child Adele, too; and even for +simple dame Fairfax?" + +"Yes, sir; in different ways, I have an affection for both." + +"And would be sorry to part with them?" + +"Yes." + +"Pity!" he said, and sighed and paused. "It is always the way of events +in this life," he continued presently: "no sooner have you got settled in +a pleasant resting-place, than a voice calls out to you to rise and move +on, for the hour of repose is expired." + +"Must I move on, sir?" I asked. "Must I leave Thornfield?" + +"I believe you must, Jane. I am sorry, Janet, but I believe indeed you +must." + +This was a blow: but I did not let it prostrate me. + +"Well, sir, I shall be ready when the order to march comes." + +"It is come now--I must give it to-night." + +"Then you _are_ going to be married, sir?" + +"Ex-act-ly--pre-cise-ly: with your usual acuteness, you have hit the nail +straight on the head." + +"Soon, sir?" + +"Very soon, my--that is, Miss Eyre: and you'll remember, Jane, the first +time I, or Rumour, plainly intimated to you that it was my intention to +put my old bachelor's neck into the sacred noose, to enter into the holy +estate of matrimony--to take Miss Ingram to my bosom, in short (she's an +extensive armful: but that's not to the point--one can't have too much of +such a very excellent thing as my beautiful Blanche): well, as I was +saying--listen to me, Jane! You're not turning your head to look after +more moths, are you? That was only a lady-clock, child, 'flying away +home.' I wish to remind you that it was you who first said to me, with +that discretion I respect in you--with that foresight, prudence, and +humility which befit your responsible and dependent position--that in +case I married Miss Ingram, both you and little Adele had better trot +forthwith. I pass over the sort of slur conveyed in this suggestion on +the character of my beloved; indeed, when you are far away, Janet, I'll +try to forget it: I shall notice only its wisdom; which is such that I +have made it my law of action. Adele must go to school; and you, Miss +Eyre, must get a new situation." + +"Yes, sir, I will advertise immediately: and meantime, I suppose--" I was +going to say, "I suppose I may stay here, till I find another shelter to +betake myself to:" but I stopped, feeling it would not do to risk a long +sentence, for my voice was not quite under command. + +"In about a month I hope to be a bridegroom," continued Mr. Rochester; +"and in the interim, I shall myself look out for employment and an asylum +for you." + +"Thank you, sir; I am sorry to give--" + +"Oh, no need to apologise! I consider that when a dependent does her +duty as well as you have done yours, she has a sort of claim upon her +employer for any little assistance he can conveniently render her; indeed +I have already, through my future mother-in-law, heard of a place that I +think will suit: it is to undertake the education of the five daughters +of Mrs. Dionysius O'Gall of Bitternutt Lodge, Connaught, Ireland. You'll +like Ireland, I think: they're such warm-hearted people there, they say." + +"It is a long way off, sir." + +"No matter--a girl of your sense will not object to the voyage or the +distance." + +"Not the voyage, but the distance: and then the sea is a barrier--" + +"From what, Jane?" + +"From England and from Thornfield: and--" + +"Well?" + +"From _you_, sir." + +I said this almost involuntarily, and, with as little sanction of free +will, my tears gushed out. I did not cry so as to be heard, however; I +avoided sobbing. The thought of Mrs. O'Gall and Bitternutt Lodge struck +cold to my heart; and colder the thought of all the brine and foam, +destined, as it seemed, to rush between me and the master at whose side I +now walked, and coldest the remembrance of the wider ocean--wealth, +caste, custom intervened between me and what I naturally and inevitably +loved. + +"It is a long way," I again said. + +"It is, to be sure; and when you get to Bitternutt Lodge, Connaught, +Ireland, I shall never see you again, Jane: that's morally certain. I +never go over to Ireland, not having myself much of a fancy for the +country. We have been good friends, Jane; have we not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And when friends are on the eve of separation, they like to spend the +little time that remains to them close to each other. Come! we'll talk +over the voyage and the parting quietly half-an-hour or so, while the +stars enter into their shining life up in heaven yonder: here is the +chestnut tree: here is the bench at its old roots. Come, we will sit +there in peace to-night, though we should never more be destined to sit +there together." He seated me and himself. + +"It is a long way to Ireland, Janet, and I am sorry to send my little +friend on such weary travels: but if I can't do better, how is it to be +helped? Are you anything akin to me, do you think, Jane?" + +I could risk no sort of answer by this time: my heart was still. + +"Because," he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to +you--especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string +somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a +similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little +frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of +land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be +snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. +As for you,--you'd forget me." + +"That I _never_ should, sir: you know--" Impossible to proceed. + +"Jane, do you hear that nightingale singing in the wood? Listen!" + +In listening, I sobbed convulsively; for I could repress what I endured +no longer; I was obliged to yield, and I was shaken from head to foot +with acute distress. When I did speak, it was only to express an +impetuous wish that I had never been born, or never come to Thornfield. + +"Because you are sorry to leave it?" + +The vehemence of emotion, stirred by grief and love within me, was +claiming mastery, and struggling for full sway, and asserting a right to +predominate, to overcome, to live, rise, and reign at last: yes,--and to +speak. + +"I grieve to leave Thornfield: I love Thornfield:--I love it, because I +have lived in it a full and delightful life,--momentarily at least. I +have not been trampled on. I have not been petrified. I have not been +buried with inferior minds, and excluded from every glimpse of communion +with what is bright and energetic and high. I have talked, face to face, +with what I reverence, with what I delight in,--with an original, a +vigorous, an expanded mind. I have known you, Mr. Rochester; and it +strikes me with terror and anguish to feel I absolutely must be torn from +you for ever. I see the necessity of departure; and it is like looking +on the necessity of death." + +"Where do you see the necessity?" he asked suddenly. + +"Where? You, sir, have placed it before me." + +"In what shape?" + +"In the shape of Miss Ingram; a noble and beautiful woman,--your bride." + +"My bride! What bride? I have no bride!" + +"But you will have." + +"Yes;--I will!--I will!" He set his teeth. + +"Then I must go:--you have said it yourself." + +"No: you must stay! I swear it--and the oath shall be kept." + +"I tell you I must go!" I retorted, roused to something like passion. "Do +you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an +automaton?--a machine without feelings? and can bear to have my morsel of +bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of living water dashed from my +cup? Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am +soulless and heartless? You think wrong!--I have as much soul as +you,--and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty +and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it +is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the +medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh;--it is my +spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the +grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal,--as we are!" + +"As we are!" repeated Mr. Rochester--"so," he added, enclosing me in his +arms. Gathering me to his breast, pressing his lips on my lips: "so, +Jane!" + +"Yes, so, sir," I rejoined: "and yet not so; for you are a married man--or +as good as a married man, and wed to one inferior to you--to one with +whom you have no sympathy--whom I do not believe you truly love; for I +have seen and heard you sneer at her. I would scorn such a union: +therefore I am better than you--let me go!" + +"Where, Jane? To Ireland?" + +"Yes--to Ireland. I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere now." + +"Jane, be still; don't struggle so, like a wild frantic bird that is +rending its own plumage in its desperation." + +"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an +independent will, which I now exert to leave you." + +Another effort set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him. + +"And your will shall decide your destiny," he said: "I offer you my hand, +my heart, and a share of all my possessions." + +"You play a farce, which I merely laugh at." + +"I ask you to pass through life at my side--to be my second self, and +best earthly companion." + +"For that fate you have already made your choice, and must abide by it." + +"Jane, be still a few moments: you are over-excited: I will be still +too." + +A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk, and trembled through +the boughs of the chestnut: it wandered away--away--to an indefinite +distance--it died. The nightingale's song was then the only voice of the +hour: in listening to it, I again wept. Mr. Rochester sat quiet, looking +at me gently and seriously. Some time passed before he spoke; he at last +said-- + +"Come to my side, Jane, and let us explain and understand one another." + +"I will never again come to your side: I am torn away now, and cannot +return." + +"But, Jane, I summon you as my wife: it is you only I intend to marry." + +I was silent: I thought he mocked me. + +"Come, Jane--come hither." + +"Your bride stands between us." + +He rose, and with a stride reached me. + +"My bride is here," he said, again drawing me to him, "because my equal +is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?" + +Still I did not answer, and still I writhed myself from his grasp: for I +was still incredulous. + +"Do you doubt me, Jane?" + +"Entirely." + +"You have no faith in me?" + +"Not a whit." + +"Am I a liar in your eyes?" he asked passionately. "Little sceptic, you +_shall_ be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and that +you know. What love has she for me? None: as I have taken pains to +prove: I caused a rumour to reach her that my fortune was not a third of +what was supposed, and after that I presented myself to see the result; +it was coldness both from her and her mother. I would not--I could +not--marry Miss Ingram. You--you strange, you almost unearthly thing!--I +love as my own flesh. You--poor and obscure, and small and plain as you +are--I entreat to accept me as a husband." + +"What, me!" I ejaculated, beginning in his earnestness--and especially in +his incivility--to credit his sincerity: "me who have not a friend in the +world but you--if you are my friend: not a shilling but what you have +given me?" + +"You, Jane, I must have you for my own--entirely my own. Will you be +mine? Say yes, quickly." + +"Mr. Rochester, let me look at your face: turn to the moonlight." + +"Why?" + +"Because I want to read your countenance--turn!" + +"There! you will find it scarcely more legible than a crumpled, scratched +page. Read on: only make haste, for I suffer." + +His face was very much agitated and very much flushed, and there were +strong workings in the features, and strange gleams in the eyes. + +"Oh, Jane, you torture me!" he exclaimed. "With that searching and yet +faithful and generous look, you torture me!" + +"How can I do that? If you are true, and your offer real, my only +feelings to you must be gratitude and devotion--they cannot torture." + +"Gratitude!" he ejaculated; and added wildly--"Jane accept me quickly. +Say, Edward--give me my name--Edward--I will marry you." + +"Are you in earnest? Do you truly love me? Do you sincerely wish me to +be your wife?" + +"I do; and if an oath is necessary to satisfy you, I swear it." + +"Then, sir, I will marry you." + +"Edward--my little wife!" + +"Dear Edward!" + +"Come to me--come to me entirely now," said he; and added, in his deepest +tone, speaking in my ear as his cheek was laid on mine, "Make my +happiness--I will make yours." + +"God pardon me!" he subjoined ere long; "and man meddle not with me: I +have her, and will hold her." + +"There is no one to meddle, sir. I have no kindred to interfere." + +"No--that is the best of it," he said. And if I had loved him less I +should have thought his accent and look of exultation savage; but, +sitting by him, roused from the nightmare of parting--called to the +paradise of union--I thought only of the bliss given me to drink in so +abundant a flow. Again and again he said, "Are you happy, Jane?" And +again and again I answered, "Yes." After which he murmured, "It will +atone--it will atone. Have I not found her friendless, and cold, and +comfortless? Will I not guard, and cherish, and solace her? Is there +not love in my heart, and constancy in my resolves? It will expiate at +God's tribunal. I know my Maker sanctions what I do. For the world's +judgment--I wash my hands thereof. For man's opinion--I defy it." + +But what had befallen the night? The moon was not yet set, and we were +all in shadow: I could scarcely see my master's face, near as I was. And +what ailed the chestnut tree? it writhed and groaned; while wind roared +in the laurel walk, and came sweeping over us. + +"We must go in," said Mr. Rochester: "the weather changes. I could have +sat with thee till morning, Jane." + +"And so," thought I, "could I with you." I should have said so, perhaps, +but a livid, vivid spark leapt out of a cloud at which I was looking, and +there was a crack, a crash, and a close rattling peal; and I thought only +of hiding my dazzled eyes against Mr. Rochester's shoulder. + +The rain rushed down. He hurried me up the walk, through the grounds, +and into the house; but we were quite wet before we could pass the +threshold. He was taking off my shawl in the hall, and shaking the water +out of my loosened hair, when Mrs. Fairfax emerged from her room. I did +not observe her at first, nor did Mr. Rochester. The lamp was lit. The +clock was on the stroke of twelve. + +"Hasten to take off your wet things," said he; "and before you go, good- +night--good-night, my darling!" + +He kissed me repeatedly. When I looked up, on leaving his arms, there +stood the widow, pale, grave, and amazed. I only smiled at her, and ran +upstairs. "Explanation will do for another time," thought I. Still, +when I reached my chamber, I felt a pang at the idea she should even +temporarily misconstrue what she had seen. But joy soon effaced every +other feeling; and loud as the wind blew, near and deep as the thunder +crashed, fierce and frequent as the lightning gleamed, cataract-like as +the rain fell during a storm of two hours' duration, I experienced no +fear and little awe. Mr. Rochester came thrice to my door in the course +of it, to ask if I was safe and tranquil: and that was comfort, that was +strength for anything. + +Before I left my bed in the morning, little Adele came running in to tell +me that the great horse-chestnut at the bottom of the orchard had been +struck by lightning in the night, and half of it split away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +As I rose and dressed, I thought over what had happened, and wondered if +it were a dream. I could not be certain of the reality till I had seen +Mr. Rochester again, and heard him renew his words of love and promise. + +While arranging my hair, I looked at my face in the glass, and felt it +was no longer plain: there was hope in its aspect and life in its colour; +and my eyes seemed as if they had beheld the fount of fruition, and +borrowed beams from the lustrous ripple. I had often been unwilling to +look at my master, because I feared he could not be pleased at my look; +but I was sure I might lift my face to his now, and not cool his +affection by its expression. I took a plain but clean and light summer +dress from my drawer and put it on: it seemed no attire had ever so well +become me, because none had I ever worn in so blissful a mood. + +I was not surprised, when I ran down into the hall, to see that a +brilliant June morning had succeeded to the tempest of the night; and to +feel, through the open glass door, the breathing of a fresh and fragrant +breeze. Nature must be gladsome when I was so happy. A beggar-woman and +her little boy--pale, ragged objects both--were coming up the walk, and I +ran down and gave them all the money I happened to have in my purse--some +three or four shillings: good or bad, they must partake of my jubilee. +The rooks cawed, and blither birds sang; but nothing was so merry or so +musical as my own rejoicing heart. + +Mrs. Fairfax surprised me by looking out of the window with a sad +countenance, and saying gravely--"Miss Eyre, will you come to breakfast?" +During the meal she was quiet and cool: but I could not undeceive her +then. I must wait for my master to give explanations; and so must she. I +ate what I could, and then I hastened upstairs. I met Adele leaving the +schoolroom. + +"Where are you going? It is time for lessons." + +"Mr. Rochester has sent me away to the nursery." + +"Where is he?" + +"In there," pointing to the apartment she had left; and I went in, and +there he stood. + +"Come and bid me good-morning," said he. I gladly advanced; and it was +not merely a cold word now, or even a shake of the hand that I received, +but an embrace and a kiss. It seemed natural: it seemed genial to be so +well loved, so caressed by him. + +"Jane, you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty," said he: "truly +pretty this morning. Is this my pale, little elf? Is this my mustard- +seed? This little sunny-faced girl with the dimpled cheek and rosy lips; +the satin-smooth hazel hair, and the radiant hazel eyes?" (I had green +eyes, reader; but you must excuse the mistake: for him they were +new-dyed, I suppose.) + +"It is Jane Eyre, sir." + +"Soon to be Jane Rochester," he added: "in four weeks, Janet; not a day +more. Do you hear that?" + +I did, and I could not quite comprehend it: it made me giddy. The +feeling, the announcement sent through me, was something stronger than +was consistent with joy--something that smote and stunned. It was, I +think almost fear. + +"You blushed, and now you are white, Jane: what is that for?" + +"Because you gave me a new name--Jane Rochester; and it seems so +strange." + +"Yes, Mrs. Rochester," said he; "young Mrs. Rochester--Fairfax +Rochester's girl-bride." + +"It can never be, sir; it does not sound likely. Human beings never +enjoy complete happiness in this world. I was not born for a different +destiny to the rest of my species: to imagine such a lot befalling me is +a fairy tale--a day-dream." + +"Which I can and will realise. I shall begin to-day. This morning I +wrote to my banker in London to send me certain jewels he has in his +keeping,--heirlooms for the ladies of Thornfield. In a day or two I hope +to pour them into your lap: for every privilege, every attention shall be +yours that I would accord a peer's daughter, if about to marry her." + +"Oh, sir!--never rain jewels! I don't like to hear them spoken of. +Jewels for Jane Eyre sounds unnatural and strange: I would rather not +have them." + +"I will myself put the diamond chain round your neck, and the circlet on +your forehead,--which it will become: for nature, at least, has stamped +her patent of nobility on this brow, Jane; and I will clasp the bracelets +on these fine wrists, and load these fairy-like fingers with rings." + +"No, no, sir! think of other subjects, and speak of other things, and in +another strain. Don't address me as if I were a beauty; I am your plain, +Quakerish governess." + +"You are a beauty in my eyes, and a beauty just after the desire of my +heart,--delicate and aerial." + +"Puny and insignificant, you mean. You are dreaming, sir,--or you are +sneering. For God's sake don't be ironical!" + +"I will make the world acknowledge you a beauty, too," he went on, while +I really became uneasy at the strain he had adopted, because I felt he +was either deluding himself or trying to delude me. "I will attire my +Jane in satin and lace, and she shall have roses in her hair; and I will +cover the head I love best with a priceless veil." + +"And then you won't know me, sir; and I shall not be your Jane Eyre any +longer, but an ape in a harlequin's jacket--a jay in borrowed plumes. I +would as soon see you, Mr. Rochester, tricked out in stage-trappings, as +myself clad in a court-lady's robe; and I don't call you handsome, sir, +though I love you most dearly: far too dearly to flatter you. Don't +flatter me." + +He pursued his theme, however, without noticing my deprecation. "This +very day I shall take you in the carriage to Millcote, and you must +choose some dresses for yourself. I told you we shall be married in four +weeks. The wedding is to take place quietly, in the church down below +yonder; and then I shall waft you away at once to town. After a brief +stay there, I shall bear my treasure to regions nearer the sun: to French +vineyards and Italian plains; and she shall see whatever is famous in old +story and in modern record: she shall taste, too, of the life of cities; +and she shall learn to value herself by just comparison with others." + +"Shall I travel?--and with you, sir?" + +"You shall sojourn at Paris, Rome, and Naples: at Florence, Venice, and +Vienna: all the ground I have wandered over shall be re-trodden by you: +wherever I stamped my hoof, your sylph's foot shall step also. Ten years +since, I flew through Europe half mad; with disgust, hate, and rage as my +companions: now I shall revisit it healed and cleansed, with a very angel +as my comforter." + +I laughed at him as he said this. "I am not an angel," I asserted; "and +I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, you must +neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me--for you will not get +it, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all +anticipate." + +"What do you anticipate of me?" + +"For a little while you will perhaps be as you are now,--a very little +while; and then you will turn cool; and then you will be capricious; and +then you will be stern, and I shall have much ado to please you: but when +you get well used to me, you will perhaps like me again,--_like_ me, I +say, not _love_ me. I suppose your love will effervesce in six months, +or less. I have observed in books written by men, that period assigned +as the farthest to which a husband's ardour extends. Yet, after all, as +a friend and companion, I hope never to become quite distasteful to my +dear master." + +"Distasteful! and like you again! I think I shall like you again, and +yet again: and I will make you confess I do not only _like_, but _love_ +you--with truth, fervour, constancy." + +"Yet are you not capricious, sir?" + +"To women who please me only by their faces, I am the very devil when I +find out they have neither souls nor hearts--when they open to me a +perspective of flatness, triviality, and perhaps imbecility, coarseness, +and ill-temper: but to the clear eye and eloquent tongue, to the soul +made of fire, and the character that bends but does not break--at once +supple and stable, tractable and consistent--I am ever tender and true." + +"Had you ever experience of such a character, sir? Did you ever love +such an one?" + +"I love it now." + +"But before me: if I, indeed, in any respect come up to your difficult +standard?" + +"I never met your likeness. Jane, you please me, and you master me--you +seem to submit, and I like the sense of pliancy you impart; and while I +am twining the soft, silken skein round my finger, it sends a thrill up +my arm to my heart. I am influenced--conquered; and the influence is +sweeter than I can express; and the conquest I undergo has a witchery +beyond any triumph I can win. Why do you smile, Jane? What does that +inexplicable, that uncanny turn of countenance mean?" + +"I was thinking, sir (you will excuse the idea; it was involuntary), I +was thinking of Hercules and Samson with their charmers--" + +"You were, you little elfish--" + +"Hush, sir! You don't talk very wisely just now; any more than those +gentlemen acted very wisely. However, had they been married, they would +no doubt by their severity as husbands have made up for their softness as +suitors; and so will you, I fear. I wonder how you will answer me a year +hence, should I ask a favour it does not suit your convenience or +pleasure to grant." + +"Ask me something now, Jane,--the least thing: I desire to be entreated--" + +"Indeed I will, sir; I have my petition all ready." + +"Speak! But if you look up and smile with that countenance, I shall +swear concession before I know to what, and that will make a fool of me." + +"Not at all, sir; I ask only this: don't send for the jewels, and don't +crown me with roses: you might as well put a border of gold lace round +that plain pocket handkerchief you have there." + +"I might as well 'gild refined gold.' I know it: your request is granted +then--for the time. I will remand the order I despatched to my banker. +But you have not yet asked for anything; you have prayed a gift to be +withdrawn: try again." + +"Well then, sir, have the goodness to gratify my curiosity, which is much +piqued on one point." + +He looked disturbed. "What? what?" he said hastily. "Curiosity is a +dangerous petition: it is well I have not taken a vow to accord every +request--" + +"But there can be no danger in complying with this, sir." + +"Utter it, Jane: but I wish that instead of a mere inquiry into, perhaps, +a secret, it was a wish for half my estate." + +"Now, King Ahasuerus! What do I want with half your estate? Do you +think I am a Jew-usurer, seeking good investment in land? I would much +rather have all your confidence. You will not exclude me from your +confidence if you admit me to your heart?" + +"You are welcome to all my confidence that is worth having, Jane; but for +God's sake, don't desire a useless burden! Don't long for poison--don't +turn out a downright Eve on my hands!" + +"Why not, sir? You have just been telling me how much you liked to be +conquered, and how pleasant over-persuasion is to you. Don't you think I +had better take advantage of the confession, and begin and coax and +entreat--even cry and be sulky if necessary--for the sake of a mere essay +of my power?" + +"I dare you to any such experiment. Encroach, presume, and the game is +up." + +"Is it, sir? You soon give in. How stern you look now! Your eyebrows +have become as thick as my finger, and your forehead resembles what, in +some very astonishing poetry, I once saw styled, 'a blue-piled +thunderloft.' That will be your married look, sir, I suppose?" + +"If that will be _your_ married look, I, as a Christian, will soon give +up the notion of consorting with a mere sprite or salamander. But what +had you to ask, thing,--out with it?" + +"There, you are less than civil now; and I like rudeness a great deal +better than flattery. I had rather be a _thing_ than an angel. This is +what I have to ask,--Why did you take such pains to make me believe you +wished to marry Miss Ingram?" + +"Is that all? Thank God it is no worse!" And now he unknit his black +brows; looked down, smiling at me, and stroked my hair, as if well +pleased at seeing a danger averted. "I think I may confess," he +continued, "even although I should make you a little indignant, Jane--and +I have seen what a fire-spirit you can be when you are indignant. You +glowed in the cool moonlight last night, when you mutinied against fate, +and claimed your rank as my equal. Janet, by-the-bye, it was you who +made me the offer." + +"Of course I did. But to the point if you please, sir--Miss Ingram?" + +"Well, I feigned courtship of Miss Ingram, because I wished to render you +as madly in love with me as I was with you; and I knew jealousy would be +the best ally I could call in for the furtherance of that end." + +"Excellent! Now you are small--not one whit bigger than the end of my +little finger. It was a burning shame and a scandalous disgrace to act +in that way. Did you think nothing of Miss Ingram's feelings, sir?" + +"Her feelings are concentrated in one--pride; and that needs humbling. +Were you jealous, Jane?" + +"Never mind, Mr. Rochester: it is in no way interesting to you to know +that. Answer me truly once more. Do you think Miss Ingram will not +suffer from your dishonest coquetry? Won't she feel forsaken and +deserted?" + +"Impossible!--when I told you how she, on the contrary, deserted me: the +idea of my insolvency cooled, or rather extinguished, her flame in a +moment." + +"You have a curious, designing mind, Mr. Rochester. I am afraid your +principles on some points are eccentric." + +"My principles were never trained, Jane: they may have grown a little +awry for want of attention." + +"Once again, seriously; may I enjoy the great good that has been +vouchsafed to me, without fearing that any one else is suffering the +bitter pain I myself felt a while ago?" + +"That you may, my good little girl: there is not another being in the +world has the same pure love for me as yourself--for I lay that pleasant +unction to my soul, Jane, a belief in your affection." + +I turned my lips to the hand that lay on my shoulder. I loved him very +much--more than I could trust myself to say--more than words had power to +express. + +"Ask something more," he said presently; "it is my delight to be +entreated, and to yield." + +I was again ready with my request. "Communicate your intentions to Mrs. +Fairfax, sir: she saw me with you last night in the hall, and she was +shocked. Give her some explanation before I see her again. It pains me +to be misjudged by so good a woman." + +"Go to your room, and put on your bonnet," he replied. "I mean you to +accompany me to Millcote this morning; and while you prepare for the +drive, I will enlighten the old lady's understanding. Did she think, +Janet, you had given the world for love, and considered it well lost?" + +"I believe she thought I had forgotten my station, and yours, sir." + +"Station! station!--your station is in my heart, and on the necks of +those who would insult you, now or hereafter.--Go." + +I was soon dressed; and when I heard Mr. Rochester quit Mrs. Fairfax's +parlour, I hurried down to it. The old lady, had been reading her +morning portion of Scripture--the Lesson for the day; her Bible lay open +before her, and her spectacles were upon it. Her occupation, suspended +by Mr. Rochester's announcement, seemed now forgotten: her eyes, fixed on +the blank wall opposite, expressed the surprise of a quiet mind stirred +by unwonted tidings. Seeing me, she roused herself: she made a sort of +effort to smile, and framed a few words of congratulation; but the smile +expired, and the sentence was abandoned unfinished. She put up her +spectacles, shut the Bible, and pushed her chair back from the table. + +"I feel so astonished," she began, "I hardly know what to say to you, +Miss Eyre. I have surely not been dreaming, have I? Sometimes I half +fall asleep when I am sitting alone and fancy things that have never +happened. It has seemed to me more than once when I have been in a doze, +that my dear husband, who died fifteen years since, has come in and sat +down beside me; and that I have even heard him call me by my name, Alice, +as he used to do. Now, can you tell me whether it is actually true that +Mr. Rochester has asked you to marry him? Don't laugh at me. But I +really thought he came in here five minutes ago, and said that in a month +you would be his wife." + +"He has said the same thing to me," I replied. + +"He has! Do you believe him? Have you accepted him?" + +"Yes." + +She looked at me bewildered. "I could never have thought it. He is a +proud man: all the Rochesters were proud: and his father, at least, liked +money. He, too, has always been called careful. He means to marry you?" + +"He tells me so." + +She surveyed my whole person: in her eyes I read that they had there +found no charm powerful enough to solve the enigma. + +"It passes me!" she continued; "but no doubt, it is true since you say +so. How it will answer, I cannot tell: I really don't know. Equality of +position and fortune is often advisable in such cases; and there are +twenty years of difference in your ages. He might almost be your +father." + +"No, indeed, Mrs. Fairfax!" exclaimed I, nettled; "he is nothing like my +father! No one, who saw us together, would suppose it for an instant. +Mr. Rochester looks as young, and is as young, as some men at five-and- +twenty." + +"Is it really for love he is going to marry you?" she asked. + +I was so hurt by her coldness and scepticism, that the tears rose to my +eyes. + +"I am sorry to grieve you," pursued the widow; "but you are so young, and +so little acquainted with men, I wished to put you on your guard. It is +an old saying that 'all is not gold that glitters;' and in this case I do +fear there will be something found to be different to what either you or +I expect." + +"Why?--am I a monster?" I said: "is it impossible that Mr. Rochester +should have a sincere affection for me?" + +"No: you are very well; and much improved of late; and Mr. Rochester, I +daresay, is fond of you. I have always noticed that you were a sort of +pet of his. There are times when, for your sake, I have been a little +uneasy at his marked preference, and have wished to put you on your +guard: but I did not like to suggest even the possibility of wrong. I +knew such an idea would shock, perhaps offend you; and you were so +discreet, and so thoroughly modest and sensible, I hoped you might be +trusted to protect yourself. Last night I cannot tell you what I +suffered when I sought all over the house, and could find you nowhere, +nor the master either; and then, at twelve o'clock, saw you come in with +him." + +"Well, never mind that now," I interrupted impatiently; "it is enough +that all was right." + +"I hope all will be right in the end," she said: "but believe me, you +cannot be too careful. Try and keep Mr. Rochester at a distance: +distrust yourself as well as him. Gentlemen in his station are not +accustomed to marry their governesses." + +I was growing truly irritated: happily, Adele ran in. + +"Let me go,--let me go to Millcote too!" she cried. "Mr. Rochester +won't: though there is so much room in the new carriage. Beg him to let +me go mademoiselle." + +"That I will, Adele;" and I hastened away with her, glad to quit my +gloomy monitress. The carriage was ready: they were bringing it round to +the front, and my master was pacing the pavement, Pilot following him +backwards and forwards. + +"Adele may accompany us, may she not, sir?" + +"I told her no. I'll have no brats!--I'll have only you." + +"Do let her go, Mr. Rochester, if you please: it would be better." + +"Not it: she will be a restraint." + +He was quite peremptory, both in look and voice. The chill of Mrs. +Fairfax's warnings, and the damp of her doubts were upon me: something of +unsubstantiality and uncertainty had beset my hopes. I half lost the +sense of power over him. I was about mechanically to obey him, without +further remonstrance; but as he helped me into the carriage, he looked at +my face. + +"What is the matter?" he asked; "all the sunshine is gone. Do you really +wish the bairn to go? Will it annoy you if she is left behind?" + +"I would far rather she went, sir." + +"Then off for your bonnet, and back like a flash of lightning!" cried he +to Adele. + +She obeyed him with what speed she might. + +"After all, a single morning's interruption will not matter much," said +he, "when I mean shortly to claim you--your thoughts, conversation, and +company--for life." + +Adele, when lifted in, commenced kissing me, by way of expressing her +gratitude for my intercession: she was instantly stowed away into a +corner on the other side of him. She then peeped round to where I sat; +so stern a neighbour was too restrictive to him, in his present fractious +mood, she dared whisper no observations, nor ask of him any information. + +"Let her come to me," I entreated: "she will, perhaps, trouble you, sir: +there is plenty of room on this side." + +He handed her over as if she had been a lapdog. "I'll send her to school +yet," he said, but now he was smiling. + +Adele heard him, and asked if she was to go to school "sans +mademoiselle?" + +"Yes," he replied, "absolutely sans mademoiselle; for I am to take +mademoiselle to the moon, and there I shall seek a cave in one of the +white valleys among the volcano-tops, and mademoiselle shall live with me +there, and only me." + +"She will have nothing to eat: you will starve her," observed Adele. + +"I shall gather manna for her morning and night: the plains and hillsides +in the moon are bleached with manna, Adele." + +"She will want to warm herself: what will she do for a fire?" + +"Fire rises out of the lunar mountains: when she is cold, I'll carry her +up to a peak, and lay her down on the edge of a crater." + +"Oh, qu' elle y sera mal--peu comfortable! And her clothes, they will +wear out: how can she get new ones?" + +Mr. Rochester professed to be puzzled. "Hem!" said he. "What would you +do, Adele? Cudgel your brains for an expedient. How would a white or a +pink cloud answer for a gown, do you think? And one could cut a pretty +enough scarf out of a rainbow." + +"She is far better as she is," concluded Adele, after musing some time: +"besides, she would get tired of living with only you in the moon. If I +were mademoiselle, I would never consent to go with you." + +"She has consented: she has pledged her word." + +"But you can't get her there; there is no road to the moon: it is all +air; and neither you nor she can fly." + +"Adele, look at that field." We were now outside Thornfield gates, and +bowling lightly along the smooth road to Millcote, where the dust was +well laid by the thunderstorm, and, where the low hedges and lofty timber +trees on each side glistened green and rain-refreshed. + +"In that field, Adele, I was walking late one evening about a fortnight +since--the evening of the day you helped me to make hay in the orchard +meadows; and, as I was tired with raking swaths, I sat down to rest me on +a stile; and there I took out a little book and a pencil, and began to +write about a misfortune that befell me long ago, and a wish I had for +happy days to come: I was writing away very fast, though daylight was +fading from the leaf, when something came up the path and stopped two +yards off me. I looked at it. It was a little thing with a veil of +gossamer on its head. I beckoned it to come near me; it stood soon at my +knee. I never spoke to it, and it never spoke to me, in words; but I +read its eyes, and it read mine; and our speechless colloquy was to this +effect-- + +"It was a fairy, and come from Elf-land, it said; and its errand was to +make me happy: I must go with it out of the common world to a lonely +place--such as the moon, for instance--and it nodded its head towards her +horn, rising over Hay-hill: it told me of the alabaster cave and silver +vale where we might live. I said I should like to go; but reminded it, +as you did me, that I had no wings to fly. + +"'Oh,' returned the fairy, 'that does not signify! Here is a talisman +will remove all difficulties;' and she held out a pretty gold ring. 'Put +it,' she said, 'on the fourth finger of my left hand, and I am yours, and +you are mine; and we shall leave earth, and make our own heaven yonder.' +She nodded again at the moon. The ring, Adele, is in my breeches-pocket, +under the disguise of a sovereign: but I mean soon to change it to a ring +again." + +"But what has mademoiselle to do with it? I don't care for the fairy: +you said it was mademoiselle you would take to the moon?" + +"Mademoiselle is a fairy," he said, whispering mysteriously. Whereupon I +told her not to mind his badinage; and she, on her part, evinced a fund +of genuine French scepticism: denominating Mr. Rochester "un vrai +menteur," and assuring him that she made no account whatever of his +"contes de fee," and that "du reste, il n'y avait pas de fees, et quand +meme il y en avait:" she was sure they would never appear to him, nor +ever give him rings, or offer to live with him in the moon. + +The hour spent at Millcote was a somewhat harassing one to me. Mr. +Rochester obliged me to go to a certain silk warehouse: there I was +ordered to choose half-a-dozen dresses. I hated the business, I begged +leave to defer it: no--it should be gone through with now. By dint of +entreaties expressed in energetic whispers, I reduced the half-dozen to +two: these however, he vowed he would select himself. With anxiety I +watched his eye rove over the gay stores: he fixed on a rich silk of the +most brilliant amethyst dye, and a superb pink satin. I told him in a +new series of whispers, that he might as well buy me a gold gown and a +silver bonnet at once: I should certainly never venture to wear his +choice. With infinite difficulty, for he was stubborn as a stone, I +persuaded him to make an exchange in favour of a sober black satin and +pearl-grey silk. "It might pass for the present," he said; "but he would +yet see me glittering like a parterre." + +Glad was I to get him out of the silk warehouse, and then out of a +jewellers shop: the more he bought me, the more my cheek burned with a +sense of annoyance and degradation. As we re-entered the carriage, and I +sat back feverish and fagged, I remembered what, in the hurry of events, +dark and bright, I had wholly forgotten--the letter of my uncle, John +Eyre, to Mrs. Reed: his intention to adopt me and make me his legatee. +"It would, indeed, be a relief," I thought, "if I had ever so small an +independency; I never can bear being dressed like a doll by Mr. +Rochester, or sitting like a second Danae with the golden shower falling +daily round me. I will write to Madeira the moment I get home, and tell +my uncle John I am going to be married, and to whom: if I had but a +prospect of one day bringing Mr. Rochester an accession of fortune, I +could better endure to be kept by him now." And somewhat relieved by +this idea (which I failed not to execute that day), I ventured once more +to meet my master's and lover's eye, which most pertinaciously sought +mine, though I averted both face and gaze. He smiled; and I thought his +smile was such as a sultan might, in a blissful and fond moment, bestow +on a slave his gold and gems had enriched: I crushed his hand, which was +ever hunting mine, vigorously, and thrust it back to him red with the +passionate pressure. + +"You need not look in that way," I said; "if you do, I'll wear nothing +but my old Lowood frocks to the end of the chapter. I'll be married in +this lilac gingham: you may make a dressing-gown for yourself out of the +pearl-grey silk, and an infinite series of waistcoats out of the black +satin." + +He chuckled; he rubbed his hands. "Oh, it is rich to see and hear her?" +he exclaimed. "Is she original? Is she piquant? I would not exchange +this one little English girl for the Grand Turk's whole seraglio, gazelle- +eyes, houri forms, and all!" + +The Eastern allusion bit me again. "I'll not stand you an inch in the +stead of a seraglio," I said; "so don't consider me an equivalent for +one. If you have a fancy for anything in that line, away with you, sir, +to the bazaars of Stamboul without delay, and lay out in extensive slave- +purchases some of that spare cash you seem at a loss to spend +satisfactorily here." + +"And what will you do, Janet, while I am bargaining for so many tons of +flesh and such an assortment of black eyes?" + +"I'll be preparing myself to go out as a missionary to preach liberty to +them that are enslaved--your harem inmates amongst the rest. I'll get +admitted there, and I'll stir up mutiny; and you, three-tailed bashaw as +you are, sir, shall in a trice find yourself fettered amongst our hands: +nor will I, for one, consent to cut your bonds till you have signed a +charter, the most liberal that despot ever yet conferred." + +"I would consent to be at your mercy, Jane." + +"I would have no mercy, Mr. Rochester, if you supplicated for it with an +eye like that. While you looked so, I should be certain that whatever +charter you might grant under coercion, your first act, when released, +would be to violate its conditions." + +"Why, Jane, what would you have? I fear you will compel me to go through +a private marriage ceremony, besides that performed at the altar. You +will stipulate, I see, for peculiar terms--what will they be?" + +"I only want an easy mind, sir; not crushed by crowded obligations. Do +you remember what you said of Celine Varens?--of the diamonds, the +cashmeres you gave her? I will not be your English Celine Varens. I +shall continue to act as Adele's governess; by that I shall earn my board +and lodging, and thirty pounds a year besides. I'll furnish my own +wardrobe out of that money, and you shall give me nothing but--" + +"Well, but what?" + +"Your regard; and if I give you mine in return, that debt will be quit." + +"Well, for cool native impudence and pure innate pride, you haven't your +equal," said he. We were now approaching Thornfield. "Will it please +you to dine with me to-day?" he asked, as we re-entered the gates. + +"No, thank you, sir." + +"And what for, 'no, thank you?' if one may inquire." + +"I never have dined with you, sir: and I see no reason why I should now: +till--" + +"Till what? You delight in half-phrases." + +"Till I can't help it." + +"Do you suppose I eat like an ogre or a ghoul, that you dread being the +companion of my repast?" + +"I have formed no supposition on the subject, sir; but I want to go on as +usual for another month." + +"You will give up your governessing slavery at once." + +"Indeed, begging your pardon, sir, I shall not. I shall just go on with +it as usual. I shall keep out of your way all day, as I have been +accustomed to do: you may send for me in the evening, when you feel +disposed to see me, and I'll come then; but at no other time." + +"I want a smoke, Jane, or a pinch of snuff, to comfort me under all this, +'pour me donner une contenance,' as Adele would say; and unfortunately I +have neither my cigar-case, nor my snuff-box. But listen--whisper. It +is your time now, little tyrant, but it will be mine presently; and when +once I have fairly seized you, to have and to hold, I'll +just--figuratively speaking--attach you to a chain like this" (touching +his watch-guard). "Yes, bonny wee thing, I'll wear you in my bosom, lest +my jewel I should tyne." + +He said this as he helped me to alight from the carriage, and while he +afterwards lifted out Adele, I entered the house, and made good my +retreat upstairs. + +He duly summoned me to his presence in the evening. I had prepared an +occupation for him; for I was determined not to spend the whole time in a +_tete-a-tete_ conversation. I remembered his fine voice; I knew he liked +to sing--good singers generally do. I was no vocalist myself, and, in +his fastidious judgment, no musician, either; but I delighted in +listening when the performance was good. No sooner had twilight, that +hour of romance, began to lower her blue and starry banner over the +lattice, than I rose, opened the piano, and entreated him, for the love +of heaven, to give me a song. He said I was a capricious witch, and that +he would rather sing another time; but I averred that no time was like +the present. + +"Did I like his voice?" he asked. + +"Very much." I was not fond of pampering that susceptible vanity of his; +but for once, and from motives of expediency, I would e'en soothe and +stimulate it. + +"Then, Jane, you must play the accompaniment." + +"Very well, sir, I will try." + +I did try, but was presently swept off the stool and denominated "a +little bungler." Being pushed unceremoniously to one side--which was +precisely what I wished--he usurped my place, and proceeded to accompany +himself: for he could play as well as sing. I hied me to the +window-recess. And while I sat there and looked out on the still trees +and dim lawn, to a sweet air was sung in mellow tones the following +strain:-- + + "The truest love that ever heart + Felt at its kindled core, + Did through each vein, in quickened start, + The tide of being pour. + + Her coming was my hope each day, + Her parting was my pain; + The chance that did her steps delay + Was ice in every vein. + + I dreamed it would be nameless bliss, + As I loved, loved to be; + And to this object did I press + As blind as eagerly. + + But wide as pathless was the space + That lay our lives between, + And dangerous as the foamy race + Of ocean-surges green. + + And haunted as a robber-path + Through wilderness or wood; + For Might and Right, and Woe and Wrath, + Between our spirits stood. + + I dangers dared; I hindrance scorned; + I omens did defy: + Whatever menaced, harassed, warned, + I passed impetuous by. + + On sped my rainbow, fast as light; + I flew as in a dream; + For glorious rose upon my sight + That child of Shower and Gleam. + + Still bright on clouds of suffering dim + Shines that soft, solemn joy; + Nor care I now, how dense and grim + Disasters gather nigh. + + I care not in this moment sweet, + Though all I have rushed o'er + Should come on pinion, strong and fleet, + Proclaiming vengeance sore: + + Though haughty Hate should strike me down, + Right, bar approach to me, + And grinding Might, with furious frown, + Swear endless enmity. + + My love has placed her little hand + With noble faith in mine, + And vowed that wedlock's sacred band + Our nature shall entwine. + + My love has sworn, with sealing kiss, + With me to live--to die; + I have at last my nameless bliss. + As I love--loved am I!" + +He rose and came towards me, and I saw his face all kindled, and his full +falcon-eye flashing, and tenderness and passion in every lineament. I +quailed momentarily--then I rallied. Soft scene, daring demonstration, I +would not have; and I stood in peril of both: a weapon of defence must be +prepared--I whetted my tongue: as he reached me, I asked with asperity, +"whom he was going to marry now?" + +"That was a strange question to be put by his darling Jane." + +"Indeed! I considered it a very natural and necessary one: he had talked +of his future wife dying with him. What did he mean by such a pagan +idea? _I_ had no intention of dying with him--he might depend on that." + +"Oh, all he longed, all he prayed for, was that I might live with him! +Death was not for such as I." + +"Indeed it was: I had as good a right to die when my time came as he had: +but I should bide that time, and not be hurried away in a suttee." + +"Would I forgive him for the selfish idea, and prove my pardon by a +reconciling kiss?" + +"No: I would rather be excused." + +Here I heard myself apostrophised as a "hard little thing;" and it was +added, "any other woman would have been melted to marrow at hearing such +stanzas crooned in her praise." + +I assured him I was naturally hard--very flinty, and that he would often +find me so; and that, moreover, I was determined to show him divers +rugged points in my character before the ensuing four weeks elapsed: he +should know fully what sort of a bargain he had made, while there was yet +time to rescind it. + +"Would I be quiet and talk rationally?" + +"I would be quiet if he liked, and as to talking rationally, I flattered +myself I was doing that now." + +He fretted, pished, and pshawed. "Very good," I thought; "you may fume +and fidget as you please: but this is the best plan to pursue with you, I +am certain. I like you more than I can say; but I'll not sink into a +bathos of sentiment: and with this needle of repartee I'll keep you from +the edge of the gulf too; and, moreover, maintain by its pungent aid that +distance between you and myself most conducive to our real mutual +advantage." + +From less to more, I worked him up to considerable irritation; then, +after he had retired, in dudgeon, quite to the other end of the room, I +got up, and saying, "I wish you good-night, sir," in my natural and +wonted respectful manner, I slipped out by the side-door and got away. + +The system thus entered on, I pursued during the whole season of +probation; and with the best success. He was kept, to be sure, rather +cross and crusty; but on the whole I could see he was excellently +entertained, and that a lamb-like submission and turtle-dove sensibility, +while fostering his despotism more, would have pleased his judgment, +satisfied his common-sense, and even suited his taste less. + +In other people's presence I was, as formerly, deferential and quiet; any +other line of conduct being uncalled for: it was only in the evening +conferences I thus thwarted and afflicted him. He continued to send for +me punctually the moment the clock struck seven; though when I appeared +before him now, he had no such honeyed terms as "love" and "darling" on +his lips: the best words at my service were "provoking puppet," +"malicious elf," "sprite," "changeling," &c. For caresses, too, I now +got grimaces; for a pressure of the hand, a pinch on the arm; for a kiss +on the cheek, a severe tweak of the ear. It was all right: at present I +decidedly preferred these fierce favours to anything more tender. Mrs. +Fairfax, I saw, approved me: her anxiety on my account vanished; +therefore I was certain I did well. Meantime, Mr. Rochester affirmed I +was wearing him to skin and bone, and threatened awful vengeance for my +present conduct at some period fast coming. I laughed in my sleeve at +his menaces. "I can keep you in reasonable check now," I reflected; "and +I don't doubt to be able to do it hereafter: if one expedient loses its +virtue, another must be devised." + +Yet after all my task was not an easy one; often I would rather have +pleased than teased him. My future husband was becoming to me my whole +world; and more than the world: almost my hope of heaven. He stood +between me and every thought of religion, as an eclipse intervenes +between man and the broad sun. I could not, in those days, see God for +His creature: of whom I had made an idol. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +The month of courtship had wasted: its very last hours were being +numbered. There was no putting off the day that advanced--the bridal +day; and all preparations for its arrival were complete. _I_, at least, +had nothing more to do: there were my trunks, packed, locked, corded, +ranged in a row along the wall of my little chamber; to-morrow, at this +time, they would be far on their road to London: and so should I +(D.V.),--or rather, not I, but one Jane Rochester, a person whom as yet I +knew not. The cards of address alone remained to nail on: they lay, four +little squares, in the drawer. Mr. Rochester had himself written the +direction, "Mrs. Rochester, --- Hotel, London," on each: I could not +persuade myself to affix them, or to have them affixed. Mrs. Rochester! +She did not exist: she would not be born till to-morrow, some time after +eight o'clock a.m.; and I would wait to be assured she had come into the +world alive before I assigned to her all that property. It was enough +that in yonder closet, opposite my dressing-table, garments said to be +hers had already displaced my black stuff Lowood frock and straw bonnet: +for not to me appertained that suit of wedding raiment; the +pearl-coloured robe, the vapoury veil pendent from the usurped +portmanteau. I shut the closet to conceal the strange, wraith-like +apparel it contained; which, at this evening hour--nine o'clock--gave out +certainly a most ghostly shimmer through the shadow of my apartment. "I +will leave you by yourself, white dream," I said. "I am feverish: I hear +the wind blowing: I will go out of doors and feel it." + +It was not only the hurry of preparation that made me feverish; not only +the anticipation of the great change--the new life which was to commence +to-morrow: both these circumstances had their share, doubtless, in +producing that restless, excited mood which hurried me forth at this late +hour into the darkening grounds: but a third cause influenced my mind +more than they. + +I had at heart a strange and anxious thought. Something had happened +which I could not comprehend; no one knew of or had seen the event but +myself: it had taken place the preceding night. Mr. Rochester that night +was absent from home; nor was he yet returned: business had called him to +a small estate of two or three farms he possessed thirty miles +off--business it was requisite he should settle in person, previous to +his meditated departure from England. I waited now his return; eager to +disburthen my mind, and to seek of him the solution of the enigma that +perplexed me. Stay till he comes, reader; and, when I disclose my secret +to him, you shall share the confidence. + +I sought the orchard, driven to its shelter by the wind, which all day +had blown strong and full from the south, without, however, bringing a +speck of rain. Instead of subsiding as night drew on, it seemed to +augment its rush and deepen its roar: the trees blew steadfastly one way, +never writhing round, and scarcely tossing back their boughs once in an +hour; so continuous was the strain bending their branchy heads +northward--the clouds drifted from pole to pole, fast following, mass on +mass: no glimpse of blue sky had been visible that July day. + +It was not without a certain wild pleasure I ran before the wind, +delivering my trouble of mind to the measureless air-torrent thundering +through space. Descending the laurel walk, I faced the wreck of the +chestnut-tree; it stood up black and riven: the trunk, split down the +centre, gasped ghastly. The cloven halves were not broken from each +other, for the firm base and strong roots kept them unsundered below; +though community of vitality was destroyed--the sap could flow no more: +their great boughs on each side were dead, and next winter's tempests +would be sure to fell one or both to earth: as yet, however, they might +be said to form one tree--a ruin, but an entire ruin. + +"You did right to hold fast to each other," I said: as if the monster- +splinters were living things, and could hear me. "I think, scathed as +you look, and charred and scorched, there must be a little sense of life +in you yet, rising out of that adhesion at the faithful, honest roots: +you will never have green leaves more--never more see birds making nests +and singing idyls in your boughs; the time of pleasure and love is over +with you: but you are not desolate: each of you has a comrade to +sympathise with him in his decay." As I looked up at them, the moon +appeared momentarily in that part of the sky which filled their fissure; +her disk was blood-red and half overcast; she seemed to throw on me one +bewildered, dreary glance, and buried herself again instantly in the deep +drift of cloud. The wind fell, for a second, round Thornfield; but far +away over wood and water, poured a wild, melancholy wail: it was sad to +listen to, and I ran off again. + +Here and there I strayed through the orchard, gathered up the apples with +which the grass round the tree roots was thickly strewn; then I employed +myself in dividing the ripe from the unripe; I carried them into the +house and put them away in the store-room. Then I repaired to the +library to ascertain whether the fire was lit, for, though summer, I knew +on such a gloomy evening Mr. Rochester would like to see a cheerful +hearth when he came in: yes, the fire had been kindled some time, and +burnt well. I placed his arm-chair by the chimney-corner: I wheeled the +table near it: I let down the curtain, and had the candles brought in +ready for lighting. More restless than ever, when I had completed these +arrangements I could not sit still, nor even remain in the house: a +little time-piece in the room and the old clock in the hall +simultaneously struck ten. + +"How late it grows!" I said. "I will run down to the gates: it is +moonlight at intervals; I can see a good way on the road. He may be +coming now, and to meet him will save some minutes of suspense." + +The wind roared high in the great trees which embowered the gates; but +the road as far as I could see, to the right hand and the left, was all +still and solitary: save for the shadows of clouds crossing it at +intervals as the moon looked out, it was but a long pale line, unvaried +by one moving speck. + +A puerile tear dimmed my eye while I looked--a tear of disappointment and +impatience; ashamed of it, I wiped it away. I lingered; the moon shut +herself wholly within her chamber, and drew close her curtain of dense +cloud: the night grew dark; rain came driving fast on the gale. + +"I wish he would come! I wish he would come!" I exclaimed, seized with +hypochondriac foreboding. I had expected his arrival before tea; now it +was dark: what could keep him? Had an accident happened? The event of +last night again recurred to me. I interpreted it as a warning of +disaster. I feared my hopes were too bright to be realised; and I had +enjoyed so much bliss lately that I imagined my fortune had passed its +meridian, and must now decline. + +"Well, I cannot return to the house," I thought; "I cannot sit by the +fireside, while he is abroad in inclement weather: better tire my limbs +than strain my heart; I will go forward and meet him." + +I set out; I walked fast, but not far: ere I had measured a quarter of a +mile, I heard the tramp of hoofs; a horseman came on, full gallop; a dog +ran by his side. Away with evil presentiment! It was he: here he was, +mounted on Mesrour, followed by Pilot. He saw me; for the moon had +opened a blue field in the sky, and rode in it watery bright: he took his +hat off, and waved it round his head. I now ran to meet him. + +"There!" he exclaimed, as he stretched out his hand and bent from the +saddle: "You can't do without me, that is evident. Step on my boot-toe; +give me both hands: mount!" + +I obeyed: joy made me agile: I sprang up before him. A hearty kissing I +got for a welcome, and some boastful triumph, which I swallowed as well +as I could. He checked himself in his exultation to demand, "But is +there anything the matter, Janet, that you come to meet me at such an +hour? Is there anything wrong?" + +"No, but I thought you would never come. I could not bear to wait in the +house for you, especially with this rain and wind." + +"Rain and wind, indeed! Yes, you are dripping like a mermaid; pull my +cloak round you: but I think you are feverish, Jane: both your cheek and +hand are burning hot. I ask again, is there anything the matter?" + +"Nothing now; I am neither afraid nor unhappy." + +"Then you have been both?" + +"Rather: but I'll tell you all about it by-and-bye, sir; and I daresay +you will only laugh at me for my pains." + +"I'll laugh at you heartily when to-morrow is past; till then I dare not: +my prize is not certain. This is you, who have been as slippery as an +eel this last month, and as thorny as a briar-rose? I could not lay a +finger anywhere but I was pricked; and now I seem to have gathered up a +stray lamb in my arms. You wandered out of the fold to seek your +shepherd, did you, Jane?" + +"I wanted you: but don't boast. Here we are at Thornfield: now let me +get down." + +He landed me on the pavement. As John took his horse, and he followed me +into the hall, he told me to make haste and put something dry on, and +then return to him in the library; and he stopped me, as I made for the +staircase, to extort a promise that I would not be long: nor was I long; +in five minutes I rejoined him. I found him at supper. + +"Take a seat and bear me company, Jane: please God, it is the last meal +but one you will eat at Thornfield Hall for a long time." + +I sat down near him, but told him I could not eat. "Is it because you +have the prospect of a journey before you, Jane? Is it the thoughts of +going to London that takes away your appetite?" + +"I cannot see my prospects clearly to-night, sir; and I hardly know what +thoughts I have in my head. Everything in life seems unreal." + +"Except me: I am substantial enough--touch me." + +"You, sir, are the most phantom-like of all: you are a mere dream." + +He held out his hand, laughing. "Is that a dream?" said he, placing it +close to my eyes. He had a rounded, muscular, and vigorous hand, as well +as a long, strong arm. + +"Yes; though I touch it, it is a dream," said I, as I put it down from +before my face. "Sir, have you finished supper?" + +"Yes, Jane." + +I rang the bell and ordered away the tray. When we were again alone, I +stirred the fire, and then took a low seat at my master's knee. + +"It is near midnight," I said. + +"Yes: but remember, Jane, you promised to wake with me the night before +my wedding." + +"I did; and I will keep my promise, for an hour or two at least: I have +no wish to go to bed." + +"Are all your arrangements complete?" + +"All, sir." + +"And on my part likewise," he returned, "I have settled everything; and +we shall leave Thornfield to-morrow, within half-an-hour after our return +from church." + +"Very well, sir." + +"With what an extraordinary smile you uttered that word--'very well,' +Jane! What a bright spot of colour you have on each cheek! and how +strangely your eyes glitter! Are you well?" + +"I believe I am." + +"Believe! What is the matter? Tell me what you feel." + +"I could not, sir: no words could tell you what I feel. I wish this +present hour would never end: who knows with what fate the next may come +charged?" + +"This is hypochondria, Jane. You have been over-excited, or +over-fatigued." + +"Do you, sir, feel calm and happy?" + +"Calm?--no: but happy--to the heart's core." + +I looked up at him to read the signs of bliss in his face: it was ardent +and flushed. + +"Give me your confidence, Jane," he said: "relieve your mind of any +weight that oppresses it, by imparting it to me. What do you fear?--that +I shall not prove a good husband?" + +"It is the idea farthest from my thoughts." + +"Are you apprehensive of the new sphere you are about to enter?--of the +new life into which you are passing?" + +"No." + +"You puzzle me, Jane: your look and tone of sorrowful audacity perplex +and pain me. I want an explanation." + +"Then, sir, listen. You were from home last night?" + +"I was: I know that; and you hinted a while ago at something which had +happened in my absence:--nothing, probably, of consequence; but, in +short, it has disturbed you. Let me hear it. Mrs. Fairfax has said +something, perhaps? or you have overheard the servants talk?--your +sensitive self-respect has been wounded?" + +"No, sir." It struck twelve--I waited till the time-piece had concluded +its silver chime, and the clock its hoarse, vibrating stroke, and then I +proceeded. + +"All day yesterday I was very busy, and very happy in my ceaseless +bustle; for I am not, as you seem to think, troubled by any haunting +fears about the new sphere, et cetera: I think it a glorious thing to +have the hope of living with you, because I love you. No, sir, don't +caress me now--let me talk undisturbed. Yesterday I trusted well in +Providence, and believed that events were working together for your good +and mine: it was a fine day, if you recollect--the calmness of the air +and sky forbade apprehensions respecting your safety or comfort on your +journey. I walked a little while on the pavement after tea, thinking of +you; and I beheld you in imagination so near me, I scarcely missed your +actual presence. I thought of the life that lay before me--_your_ life, +sir--an existence more expansive and stirring than my own: as much more +so as the depths of the sea to which the brook runs are than the shallows +of its own strait channel. I wondered why moralists call this world a +dreary wilderness: for me it blossomed like a rose. Just at sunset, the +air turned cold and the sky cloudy: I went in, Sophie called me upstairs +to look at my wedding-dress, which they had just brought; and under it in +the box I found your present--the veil which, in your princely +extravagance, you sent for from London: resolved, I suppose, since I +would not have jewels, to cheat me into accepting something as costly. I +smiled as I unfolded it, and devised how I would tease you about your +aristocratic tastes, and your efforts to masque your plebeian bride in +the attributes of a peeress. I thought how I would carry down to you the +square of unembroidered blond I had myself prepared as a covering for my +low-born head, and ask if that was not good enough for a woman who could +bring her husband neither fortune, beauty, nor connections. I saw +plainly how you would look; and heard your impetuous republican answers, +and your haughty disavowal of any necessity on your part to augment your +wealth, or elevate your standing, by marrying either a purse or a +coronet." + +"How well you read me, you witch!" interposed Mr. Rochester: "but what +did you find in the veil besides its embroidery? Did you find poison, or +a dagger, that you look so mournful now?" + +"No, no, sir; besides the delicacy and richness of the fabric, I found +nothing save Fairfax Rochester's pride; and that did not scare me, +because I am used to the sight of the demon. But, sir, as it grew dark, +the wind rose: it blew yesterday evening, not as it blows now--wild and +high--but 'with a sullen, moaning sound' far more eerie. I wished you +were at home. I came into this room, and the sight of the empty chair +and fireless hearth chilled me. For some time after I went to bed, I +could not sleep--a sense of anxious excitement distressed me. The gale +still rising, seemed to my ear to muffle a mournful under-sound; whether +in the house or abroad I could not at first tell, but it recurred, +doubtful yet doleful at every lull; at last I made out it must be some +dog howling at a distance. I was glad when it ceased. On sleeping, I +continued in dreams the idea of a dark and gusty night. I continued also +the wish to be with you, and experienced a strange, regretful +consciousness of some barrier dividing us. During all my first sleep, I +was following the windings of an unknown road; total obscurity environed +me; rain pelted me; I was burdened with the charge of a little child: a +very small creature, too young and feeble to walk, and which shivered in +my cold arms, and wailed piteously in my ear. I thought, sir, that you +were on the road a long way before me; and I strained every nerve to +overtake you, and made effort on effort to utter your name and entreat +you to stop--but my movements were fettered, and my voice still died away +inarticulate; while you, I felt, withdrew farther and farther every +moment." + +"And these dreams weigh on your spirits now, Jane, when I am close to +you? Little nervous subject! Forget visionary woe, and think only of +real happiness! You say you love me, Janet: yes--I will not forget that; +and you cannot deny it. _Those_ words did not die inarticulate on your +lips. I heard them clear and soft: a thought too solemn perhaps, but +sweet as music--'I think it is a glorious thing to have the hope of +living with you, Edward, because I love you.' Do you love me, +Jane?--repeat it." + +"I do, sir--I do, with my whole heart." + +"Well," he said, after some minutes' silence, "it is strange; but that +sentence has penetrated my breast painfully. Why? I think because you +said it with such an earnest, religious energy, and because your upward +gaze at me now is the very sublime of faith, truth, and devotion: it is +too much as if some spirit were near me. Look wicked, Jane: as you know +well how to look: coin one of your wild, shy, provoking smiles; tell me +you hate me--tease me, vex me; do anything but move me: I would rather be +incensed than saddened." + +"I will tease you and vex you to your heart's content, when I have +finished my tale: but hear me to the end." + +"I thought, Jane, you had told me all. I thought I had found the source +of your melancholy in a dream." + +I shook my head. "What! is there more? But I will not believe it to be +anything important. I warn you of incredulity beforehand. Go on." + +The disquietude of his air, the somewhat apprehensive impatience of his +manner, surprised me: but I proceeded. + +"I dreamt another dream, sir: that Thornfield Hall was a dreary ruin, the +retreat of bats and owls. I thought that of all the stately front +nothing remained but a shell-like wall, very high and very +fragile-looking. I wandered, on a moonlight night, through the grass- +grown enclosure within: here I stumbled over a marble hearth, and there +over a fallen fragment of cornice. Wrapped up in a shawl, I still +carried the unknown little child: I might not lay it down anywhere, +however tired were my arms--however much its weight impeded my progress, +I must retain it. I heard the gallop of a horse at a distance on the +road; I was sure it was you; and you were departing for many years and +for a distant country. I climbed the thin wall with frantic perilous +haste, eager to catch one glimpse of you from the top: the stones rolled +from under my feet, the ivy branches I grasped gave way, the child clung +round my neck in terror, and almost strangled me; at last I gained the +summit. I saw you like a speck on a white track, lessening every moment. +The blast blew so strong I could not stand. I sat down on the narrow +ledge; I hushed the scared infant in my lap: you turned an angle of the +road: I bent forward to take a last look; the wall crumbled; I was +shaken; the child rolled from my knee, I lost my balance, fell, and +woke." + +"Now, Jane, that is all." + +"All the preface, sir; the tale is yet to come. On waking, a gleam +dazzled my eyes; I thought--Oh, it is daylight! But I was mistaken; it +was only candlelight. Sophie, I supposed, had come in. There was a +light in the dressing-table, and the door of the closet, where, before +going to bed, I had hung my wedding-dress and veil, stood open; I heard a +rustling there. I asked, 'Sophie, what are you doing?' No one answered; +but a form emerged from the closet; it took the light, held it aloft, and +surveyed the garments pendent from the portmanteau. 'Sophie! Sophie!' I +again cried: and still it was silent. I had risen up in bed, I bent +forward: first surprise, then bewilderment, came over me; and then my +blood crept cold through my veins. Mr. Rochester, this was not Sophie, +it was not Leah, it was not Mrs. Fairfax: it was not--no, I was sure of +it, and am still--it was not even that strange woman, Grace Poole." + +"It must have been one of them," interrupted my master. + +"No, sir, I solemnly assure you to the contrary. The shape standing +before me had never crossed my eyes within the precincts of Thornfield +Hall before; the height, the contour were new to me." + +"Describe it, Jane." + +"It seemed, sir, a woman, tall and large, with thick and dark hair +hanging long down her back. I know not what dress she had on: it was +white and straight; but whether gown, sheet, or shroud, I cannot tell." + +"Did you see her face?" + +"Not at first. But presently she took my veil from its place; she held +it up, gazed at it long, and then she threw it over her own head, and +turned to the mirror. At that moment I saw the reflection of the visage +and features quite distinctly in the dark oblong glass." + +"And how were they?" + +"Fearful and ghastly to me--oh, sir, I never saw a face like it! It was +a discoloured face--it was a savage face. I wish I could forget the roll +of the red eyes and the fearful blackened inflation of the lineaments!" + +"Ghosts are usually pale, Jane." + +"This, sir, was purple: the lips were swelled and dark; the brow +furrowed: the black eyebrows widely raised over the bloodshot eyes. Shall +I tell you of what it reminded me?" + +"You may." + +"Of the foul German spectre--the Vampyre." + +"Ah!--what did it do?" + +"Sir, it removed my veil from its gaunt head, rent it in two parts, and +flinging both on the floor, trampled on them." + +{It removed my veil from its gaunt head, rent it in two parts, and +flinging both on the floor, trampled on them: p272.jpg} + +"Afterwards?" + +"It drew aside the window-curtain and looked out; perhaps it saw dawn +approaching, for, taking the candle, it retreated to the door. Just at +my bedside, the figure stopped: the fiery eyes glared upon me--she thrust +up her candle close to my face, and extinguished it under my eyes. I was +aware her lurid visage flamed over mine, and I lost consciousness: for +the second time in my life--only the second time--I became insensible +from terror." + +"Who was with you when you revived?" + +"No one, sir, but the broad day. I rose, bathed my head and face in +water, drank a long draught; felt that though enfeebled I was not ill, +and determined that to none but you would I impart this vision. Now, +sir, tell me who and what that woman was?" + +"The creature of an over-stimulated brain; that is certain. I must be +careful of you, my treasure: nerves like yours were not made for rough +handling." + +"Sir, depend on it, my nerves were not in fault; the thing was real: the +transaction actually took place." + +"And your previous dreams, were they real too? Is Thornfield Hall a +ruin? Am I severed from you by insuperable obstacles? Am I leaving you +without a tear--without a kiss--without a word?" + +"Not yet." + +"Am I about to do it? Why, the day is already commenced which is to bind +us indissolubly; and when we are once united, there shall be no +recurrence of these mental terrors: I guarantee that." + +"Mental terrors, sir! I wish I could believe them to be only such: I +wish it more now than ever; since even you cannot explain to me the +mystery of that awful visitant." + +"And since I cannot do it, Jane, it must have been unreal." + +"But, sir, when I said so to myself on rising this morning, and when I +looked round the room to gather courage and comfort from the cheerful +aspect of each familiar object in full daylight, there--on the carpet--I +saw what gave the distinct lie to my hypothesis,--the veil, torn from top +to bottom in two halves!" + +I felt Mr. Rochester start and shudder; he hastily flung his arms round +me. "Thank God!" he exclaimed, "that if anything malignant did come near +you last night, it was only the veil that was harmed. Oh, to think what +might have happened!" + +He drew his breath short, and strained me so close to him, I could +scarcely pant. After some minutes' silence, he continued, cheerily-- + +"Now, Janet, I'll explain to you all about it. It was half dream, half +reality. A woman did, I doubt not, enter your room: and that woman +was--must have been--Grace Poole. You call her a strange being yourself: +from all you know, you have reason so to call her--what did she do to me? +what to Mason? In a state between sleeping and waking, you noticed her +entrance and her actions; but feverish, almost delirious as you were, you +ascribed to her a goblin appearance different from her own: the long +dishevelled hair, the swelled black face, the exaggerated stature, were +figments of imagination; results of nightmare: the spiteful tearing of +the veil was real: and it is like her. I see you would ask why I keep +such a woman in my house: when we have been married a year and a day, I +will tell you; but not now. Are you satisfied, Jane? Do you accept my +solution of the mystery?" + +I reflected, and in truth it appeared to me the only possible one: +satisfied I was not, but to please him I endeavoured to appear +so--relieved, I certainly did feel; so I answered him with a contented +smile. And now, as it was long past one, I prepared to leave him. + +"Does not Sophie sleep with Adele in the nursery?" he asked, as I lit my +candle. + +"Yes, sir." + +"And there is room enough in Adele's little bed for you. You must share +it with her to-night, Jane: it is no wonder that the incident you have +related should make you nervous, and I would rather you did not sleep +alone: promise me to go to the nursery." + +"I shall be very glad to do so, sir." + +"And fasten the door securely on the inside. Wake Sophie when you go +upstairs, under pretence of requesting her to rouse you in good time to- +morrow; for you must be dressed and have finished breakfast before eight. +And now, no more sombre thoughts: chase dull care away, Janet. Don't you +hear to what soft whispers the wind has fallen? and there is no more +beating of rain against the window-panes: look here" (he lifted up the +curtain)--"it is a lovely night!" + +It was. Half heaven was pure and stainless: the clouds, now trooping +before the wind, which had shifted to the west, were filing off eastward +in long, silvered columns. The moon shone peacefully. + +"Well," said Mr. Rochester, gazing inquiringly into my eyes, "how is my +Janet now?" + +"The night is serene, sir; and so am I." + +"And you will not dream of separation and sorrow to-night; but of happy +love and blissful union." + +This prediction was but half fulfilled: I did not indeed dream of sorrow, +but as little did I dream of joy; for I never slept at all. With little +Adele in my arms, I watched the slumber of childhood--so tranquil, so +passionless, so innocent--and waited for the coming day: all my life was +awake and astir in my frame: and as soon as the sun rose I rose too. I +remember Adele clung to me as I left her: I remember I kissed her as I +loosened her little hands from my neck; and I cried over her with strange +emotion, and quitted her because I feared my sobs would break her still +sound repose. She seemed the emblem of my past life; and here I was now +to array myself to meet, the dread, but adored, type of my unknown future +day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +Sophie came at seven to dress me: she was very long indeed in +accomplishing her task; so long that Mr. Rochester, grown, I suppose, +impatient of my delay, sent up to ask why I did not come. She was just +fastening my veil (the plain square of blond after all) to my hair with a +brooch; I hurried from under her hands as soon as I could. + +"Stop!" she cried in French. "Look at yourself in the mirror: you have +not taken one peep." + +So I turned at the door: I saw a robed and veiled figure, so unlike my +usual self that it seemed almost the image of a stranger. "Jane!" called +a voice, and I hastened down. I was received at the foot of the stairs +by Mr. Rochester. + +"Lingerer!" he said, "my brain is on fire with impatience, and you tarry +so long!" + +He took me into the dining-room, surveyed me keenly all over, pronounced +me "fair as a lily, and not only the pride of his life, but the desire of +his eyes," and then telling me he would give me but ten minutes to eat +some breakfast, he rang the bell. One of his lately hired servants, a +footman, answered it. + +"Is John getting the carriage ready?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is the luggage brought down?" + +"They are bringing it down, sir." + +"Go you to the church: see if Mr. Wood (the clergyman) and the clerk are +there: return and tell me." + +The church, as the reader knows, was but just beyond the gates; the +footman soon returned. + +"Mr. Wood is in the vestry, sir, putting on his surplice." + +"And the carriage?" + +"The horses are harnessing." + +"We shall not want it to go to church; but it must be ready the moment we +return: all the boxes and luggage arranged and strapped on, and the +coachman in his seat." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Jane, are you ready?" + +I rose. There were no groomsmen, no bridesmaids, no relatives to wait +for or marshal: none but Mr. Rochester and I. Mrs. Fairfax stood in the +hall as we passed. I would fain have spoken to her, but my hand was +held by a grasp of iron: I was hurried along by a stride I could hardly +follow; and to look at Mr. Rochester's face was to feel that not a second +of delay would be tolerated for any purpose. I wonder what other +bridegroom ever looked as he did--so bent up to a purpose, so grimly +resolute: or who, under such steadfast brows, ever revealed such flaming +and flashing eyes. + +I know not whether the day was fair or foul; in descending the drive, I +gazed neither on sky nor earth: my heart was with my eyes; and both +seemed migrated into Mr. Rochester's frame. I wanted to see the +invisible thing on which, as we went along, he appeared to fasten a +glance fierce and fell. I wanted to feel the thoughts whose force he +seemed breasting and resisting. + +At the churchyard wicket he stopped: he discovered I was quite out of +breath. "Am I cruel in my love?" he said. "Delay an instant: lean on +me, Jane." + +And now I can recall the picture of the grey old house of God rising calm +before me, of a rook wheeling round the steeple, of a ruddy morning sky +beyond. I remember something, too, of the green grave-mounds; and I have +not forgotten, either, two figures of strangers straying amongst the low +hillocks and reading the mementoes graven on the few mossy head-stones. I +noticed them, because, as they saw us, they passed round to the back of +the church; and I doubted not they were going to enter by the side-aisle +door and witness the ceremony. By Mr. Rochester they were not observed; +he was earnestly looking at my face from which the blood had, I daresay, +momentarily fled: for I felt my forehead dewy, and my cheeks and lips +cold. When I rallied, which I soon did, he walked gently with me up the +path to the porch. + +We entered the quiet and humble temple; the priest waited in his white +surplice at the lowly altar, the clerk beside him. All was still: two +shadows only moved in a remote corner. My conjecture had been correct: +the strangers had slipped in before us, and they now stood by the vault +of the Rochesters, their backs towards us, viewing through the rails the +old time-stained marble tomb, where a kneeling angel guarded the remains +of Damer de Rochester, slain at Marston Moor in the time of the civil +wars, and of Elizabeth, his wife. + +Our place was taken at the communion rails. Hearing a cautious step +behind me, I glanced over my shoulder: one of the strangers--a gentleman, +evidently--was advancing up the chancel. The service began. The +explanation of the intent of matrimony was gone through; and then the +clergyman came a step further forward, and, bending slightly towards Mr. +Rochester, went on. + +"I require and charge you both (as ye will answer at the dreadful day of +judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed), that if +either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined +together in matrimony, ye do now confess it; for be ye well assured that +so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow, are +not joined together by God, neither is their matrimony lawful." + +He paused, as the custom is. When is the pause after that sentence ever +broken by reply? Not, perhaps, once in a hundred years. And the +clergyman, who had not lifted his eyes from his book, and had held his +breath but for a moment, was proceeding: his hand was already stretched +towards Mr. Rochester, as his lips unclosed to ask, "Wilt thou have this +woman for thy wedded wife?"--when a distinct and near voice said-- + +"The marriage cannot go on: I declare the existence of an impediment." + +The clergyman looked up at the speaker and stood mute; the clerk did the +same; Mr. Rochester moved slightly, as if an earthquake had rolled under +his feet: taking a firmer footing, and not turning his head or eyes, he +said, "Proceed." + +Profound silence fell when he had uttered that word, with deep but low +intonation. Presently Mr. Wood said-- + +"I cannot proceed without some investigation into what has been asserted, +and evidence of its truth or falsehood." + +"The ceremony is quite broken off," subjoined the voice behind us. "I am +in a condition to prove my allegation: an insuperable impediment to this +marriage exists." + +Mr. Rochester heard, but heeded not: he stood stubborn and rigid, making +no movement but to possess himself of my hand. What a hot and strong +grasp he had! and how like quarried marble was his pale, firm, massive +front at this moment! How his eye shone, still watchful, and yet wild +beneath! + +Mr. Wood seemed at a loss. "What is the nature of the impediment?" he +asked. "Perhaps it may be got over--explained away?" + +"Hardly," was the answer. "I have called it insuperable, and I speak +advisedly." + +The speaker came forward and leaned on the rails. He continued, uttering +each word distinctly, calmly, steadily, but not loudly-- + +"It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage. Mr. +Rochester has a wife now living." + +My nerves vibrated to those low-spoken words as they had never vibrated +to thunder--my blood felt their subtle violence as it had never felt +frost or fire; but I was collected, and in no danger of swooning. I +looked at Mr. Rochester: I made him look at me. His whole face was +colourless rock: his eye was both spark and flint. He disavowed nothing: +he seemed as if he would defy all things. Without speaking, without +smiling, without seeming to recognise in me a human being, he only twined +my waist with his arm and riveted me to his side. + +"Who are you?" he asked of the intruder. + +"My name is Briggs, a solicitor of --- Street, London." + +"And you would thrust on me a wife?" + +"I would remind you of your lady's existence, sir, which the law +recognises, if you do not." + +"Favour me with an account of her--with her name, her parentage, her +place of abode." + +"Certainly." Mr. Briggs calmly took a paper from his pocket, and read +out in a sort of official, nasal voice:-- + +"'I affirm and can prove that on the 20th of October A.D. --- (a date of +fifteen years back), Edward Fairfax Rochester, of Thornfield Hall, in the +county of ---, and of Ferndean Manor, in ---shire, England, was married +to my sister, Bertha Antoinetta Mason, daughter of Jonas Mason, merchant, +and of Antoinetta his wife, a Creole, at --- church, Spanish Town, +Jamaica. The record of the marriage will be found in the register of +that church--a copy of it is now in my possession. Signed, Richard +Mason.'" + +"That--if a genuine document--may prove I have been married, but it does +not prove that the woman mentioned therein as my wife is still living." + +"She was living three months ago," returned the lawyer. + +"How do you know?" + +"I have a witness to the fact, whose testimony even you, sir, will +scarcely controvert." + +"Produce him--or go to hell." + +"I will produce him first--he is on the spot. Mr. Mason, have the +goodness to step forward." + +Mr. Rochester, on hearing the name, set his teeth; he experienced, too, a +sort of strong convulsive quiver; near to him as I was, I felt the +spasmodic movement of fury or despair run through his frame. The second +stranger, who had hitherto lingered in the background, now drew near; a +pale face looked over the solicitor's shoulder--yes, it was Mason +himself. Mr. Rochester turned and glared at him. His eye, as I have +often said, was a black eye: it had now a tawny, nay, a bloody light in +its gloom; and his face flushed--olive cheek and hueless forehead +received a glow as from spreading, ascending heart-fire: and he stirred, +lifted his strong arm--he could have struck Mason, dashed him on the +church-floor, shocked by ruthless blow the breath from his body--but +Mason shrank away, and cried faintly, "Good God!" Contempt fell cool on +Mr. Rochester--his passion died as if a blight had shrivelled it up: he +only asked--"What have _you_ to say?" + +An inaudible reply escaped Mason's white lips. + +"The devil is in it if you cannot answer distinctly. I again demand, +what have you to say?" + +"Sir--sir," interrupted the clergyman, "do not forget you are in a sacred +place." Then addressing Mason, he inquired gently, "Are you aware, sir, +whether or not this gentleman's wife is still living?" + +"Courage," urged the lawyer,--"speak out." + +"She is now living at Thornfield Hall," said Mason, in more articulate +tones: "I saw her there last April. I am her brother." + +"At Thornfield Hall!" ejaculated the clergyman. "Impossible! I am an +old resident in this neighbourhood, sir, and I never heard of a Mrs. +Rochester at Thornfield Hall." + +I saw a grim smile contort Mr. Rochester's lips, and he muttered-- + +"No, by God! I took care that none should hear of it--or of her under +that name." He mused--for ten minutes he held counsel with himself: he +formed his resolve, and announced it-- + +"Enough! all shall bolt out at once, like the bullet from the barrel. +Wood, close your book and take off your surplice; John Green (to the +clerk), leave the church: there will be no wedding to-day." The man +obeyed. + +Mr. Rochester continued, hardily and recklessly: "Bigamy is an ugly +word!--I meant, however, to be a bigamist; but fate has out-manoeuvred +me, or Providence has checked me,--perhaps the last. I am little better +than a devil at this moment; and, as my pastor there would tell me, +deserve no doubt the sternest judgments of God, even to the quenchless +fire and deathless worm. Gentlemen, my plan is broken up:--what this +lawyer and his client say is true: I have been married, and the woman to +whom I was married lives! You say you never heard of a Mrs. Rochester at +the house up yonder, Wood; but I daresay you have many a time inclined +your ear to gossip about the mysterious lunatic kept there under watch +and ward. Some have whispered to you that she is my bastard half-sister: +some, my cast-off mistress. I now inform you that she is my wife, whom I +married fifteen years ago,--Bertha Mason by name; sister of this resolute +personage, who is now, with his quivering limbs and white cheeks, showing +you what a stout heart men may bear. Cheer up, Dick!--never fear me!--I'd +almost as soon strike a woman as you. Bertha Mason is mad; and she came +of a mad family; idiots and maniacs through three generations! Her +mother, the Creole, was both a madwoman and a drunkard!--as I found out +after I had wed the daughter: for they were silent on family secrets +before. Bertha, like a dutiful child, copied her parent in both points. +I had a charming partner--pure, wise, modest: you can fancy I was a happy +man. I went through rich scenes! Oh! my experience has been heavenly, +if you only knew it! But I owe you no further explanation. Briggs, +Wood, Mason, I invite you all to come up to the house and visit Mrs. +Poole's patient, and _my wife_! You shall see what sort of a being I was +cheated into espousing, and judge whether or not I had a right to break +the compact, and seek sympathy with something at least human. This +girl," he continued, looking at me, "knew no more than you, Wood, of the +disgusting secret: she thought all was fair and legal and never dreamt +she was going to be entrapped into a feigned union with a defrauded +wretch, already bound to a bad, mad, and embruted partner! Come all of +you--follow!" + +Still holding me fast, he left the church: the three gentlemen came +after. At the front door of the hall we found the carriage. + +"Take it back to the coach-house, John," said Mr. Rochester coolly; "it +will not be wanted to-day." + +At our entrance, Mrs. Fairfax, Adele, Sophie, Leah, advanced to meet and +greet us. + +"To the right-about--every soul!" cried the master; "away with your +congratulations! Who wants them? Not I!--they are fifteen years too +late!" + +He passed on and ascended the stairs, still holding my hand, and still +beckoning the gentlemen to follow him, which they did. We mounted the +first staircase, passed up the gallery, proceeded to the third storey: +the low, black door, opened by Mr. Rochester's master-key, admitted us to +the tapestried room, with its great bed and its pictorial cabinet. + +"You know this place, Mason," said our guide; "she bit and stabbed you +here." + +He lifted the hangings from the wall, uncovering the second door: this, +too, he opened. In a room without a window, there burnt a fire guarded +by a high and strong fender, and a lamp suspended from the ceiling by a +chain. Grace Poole bent over the fire, apparently cooking something in a +saucepan. In the deep shade, at the farther end of the room, a figure +ran backwards and forwards. What it was, whether beast or human being, +one could not, at first sight, tell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all +fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was +covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a +mane, hid its head and face. + +"Good-morrow, Mrs. Poole!" said Mr. Rochester. "How are you? and how is +your charge to-day?" + +"We're tolerable, sir, I thank you," replied Grace, lifting the boiling +mess carefully on to the hob: "rather snappish, but not 'rageous." + +A fierce cry seemed to give the lie to her favourable report: the clothed +hyena rose up, and stood tall on its hind-feet. + +"Ah! sir, she sees you!" exclaimed Grace: "you'd better not stay." + +"Only a few moments, Grace: you must allow me a few moments." + +"Take care then, sir!--for God's sake, take care!" + +The maniac bellowed: she parted her shaggy locks from her visage, and +gazed wildly at her visitors. I recognised well that purple face,--those +bloated features. Mrs. Poole advanced. + +"Keep out of the way," said Mr. Rochester, thrusting her aside: "she has +no knife now, I suppose, and I'm on my guard." + +"One never knows what she has, sir: she is so cunning: it is not in +mortal discretion to fathom her craft." + +"We had better leave her," whispered Mason. + +"Go to the devil!" was his brother-in-law's recommendation. + +"'Ware!" cried Grace. The three gentlemen retreated simultaneously. Mr. +Rochester flung me behind him: the lunatic sprang and grappled his throat +viciously, and laid her teeth to his cheek: they struggled. She was a +big woman, in stature almost equalling her husband, and corpulent +besides: she showed virile force in the contest--more than once she +almost throttled him, athletic as he was. He could have settled her with +a well-planted blow; but he would not strike: he would only wrestle. At +last he mastered her arms; Grace Poole gave him a cord, and he pinioned +them behind her: with more rope, which was at hand, he bound her to a +chair. The operation was performed amidst the fiercest yells and the +most convulsive plunges. Mr. Rochester then turned to the spectators: he +looked at them with a smile both acrid and desolate. + +"That is _my wife_," said he. "Such is the sole conjugal embrace I am +ever to know--such are the endearments which are to solace my leisure +hours! And _this_ is what I wished to have" (laying his hand on my +shoulder): "this young girl, who stands so grave and quiet at the mouth +of hell, looking collectedly at the gambols of a demon, I wanted her just +as a change after that fierce ragout. Wood and Briggs, look at the +difference! Compare these clear eyes with the red balls yonder--this +face with that mask--this form with that bulk; then judge me, priest of +the gospel and man of the law, and remember with what judgment ye judge +ye shall be judged! Off with you now. I must shut up my prize." + +We all withdrew. Mr. Rochester stayed a moment behind us, to give some +further order to Grace Poole. The solicitor addressed me as he descended +the stair. + +"You, madam," said he, "are cleared from all blame: your uncle will be +glad to hear it--if, indeed, he should be still living--when Mr. Mason +returns to Madeira." + +"My uncle! What of him? Do you know him?" + +"Mr. Mason does. Mr. Eyre has been the Funchal correspondent of his +house for some years. When your uncle received your letter intimating +the contemplated union between yourself and Mr. Rochester, Mr. Mason, who +was staying at Madeira to recruit his health, on his way back to Jamaica, +happened to be with him. Mr. Eyre mentioned the intelligence; for he +knew that my client here was acquainted with a gentleman of the name of +Rochester. Mr. Mason, astonished and distressed as you may suppose, +revealed the real state of matters. Your uncle, I am sorry to say, is +now on a sick bed; from which, considering the nature of his +disease--decline--and the stage it has reached, it is unlikely he will +ever rise. He could not then hasten to England himself, to extricate you +from the snare into which you had fallen, but he implored Mr. Mason to +lose no time in taking steps to prevent the false marriage. He referred +him to me for assistance. I used all despatch, and am thankful I was not +too late: as you, doubtless, must be also. Were I not morally certain +that your uncle will be dead ere you reach Madeira, I would advise you to +accompany Mr. Mason back; but as it is, I think you had better remain in +England till you can hear further, either from or of Mr. Eyre. Have we +anything else to stay for?" he inquired of Mr. Mason. + +"No, no--let us be gone," was the anxious reply; and without waiting to +take leave of Mr. Rochester, they made their exit at the hall door. The +clergyman stayed to exchange a few sentences, either of admonition or +reproof, with his haughty parishioner; this duty done, he too departed. + +I heard him go as I stood at the half-open door of my own room, to which +I had now withdrawn. The house cleared, I shut myself in, fastened the +bolt that none might intrude, and proceeded--not to weep, not to mourn, I +was yet too calm for that, but--mechanically to take off the wedding +dress, and replace it by the stuff gown I had worn yesterday, as I +thought, for the last time. I then sat down: I felt weak and tired. I +leaned my arms on a table, and my head dropped on them. And now I +thought: till now I had only heard, seen, moved--followed up and down +where I was led or dragged--watched event rush on event, disclosure open +beyond disclosure: but _now_, _I thought_. + +The morning had been a quiet morning enough--all except the brief scene +with the lunatic: the transaction in the church had not been noisy; there +was no explosion of passion, no loud altercation, no dispute, no defiance +or challenge, no tears, no sobs: a few words had been spoken, a calmly +pronounced objection to the marriage made; some stern, short questions +put by Mr. Rochester; answers, explanations given, evidence adduced; an +open admission of the truth had been uttered by my master; then the +living proof had been seen; the intruders were gone, and all was over. + +I was in my own room as usual--just myself, without obvious change: +nothing had smitten me, or scathed me, or maimed me. And yet where was +the Jane Eyre of yesterday?--where was her life?--where were her +prospects? + +Jane Eyre, who had been an ardent, expectant woman--almost a bride, was a +cold, solitary girl again: her life was pale; her prospects were +desolate. A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December +storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed +the blowing roses; on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud: lanes +which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with +untrodden snow; and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and +flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and +white as pine-forests in wintry Norway. My hopes were all dead--struck +with a subtle doom, such as, in one night, fell on all the first-born in +the land of Egypt. I looked on my cherished wishes, yesterday so +blooming and glowing; they lay stark, chill, livid corpses that could +never revive. I looked at my love: that feeling which was my +master's--which he had created; it shivered in my heart, like a suffering +child in a cold cradle; sickness and anguish had seized it; it could not +seek Mr. Rochester's arms--it could not derive warmth from his breast. +Oh, never more could it turn to him; for faith was blighted--confidence +destroyed! Mr. Rochester was not to me what he had been; for he was not +what I had thought him. I would not ascribe vice to him; I would not say +he had betrayed me; but the attribute of stainless truth was gone from +his idea, and from his presence I must go: _that_ I perceived well. +When--how--whither, I could not yet discern; but he himself, I doubted +not, would hurry me from Thornfield. Real affection, it seemed, he could +not have for me; it had been only fitful passion: that was balked; he +would want me no more. I should fear even to cross his path now: my view +must be hateful to him. Oh, how blind had been my eyes! How weak my +conduct! + +My eyes were covered and closed: eddying darkness seemed to swim round +me, and reflection came in as black and confused a flow. Self-abandoned, +relaxed, and effortless, I seemed to have laid me down in the dried-up +bed of a great river; I heard a flood loosened in remote mountains, and +felt the torrent come: to rise I had no will, to flee I had no strength. +I lay faint, longing to be dead. One idea only still throbbed life-like +within me--a remembrance of God: it begot an unuttered prayer: these +words went wandering up and down in my rayless mind, as something that +should be whispered, but no energy was found to express them-- + +"Be not far from me, for trouble is near: there is none to help." + +It was near: and as I had lifted no petition to Heaven to avert it--as I +had neither joined my hands, nor bent my knees, nor moved my lips--it +came: in full heavy swing the torrent poured over me. The whole +consciousness of my life lorn, my love lost, my hope quenched, my faith +death-struck, swayed full and mighty above me in one sullen mass. That +bitter hour cannot be described: in truth, "the waters came into my soul; +I sank in deep mire: I felt no standing; I came into deep waters; the +floods overflowed me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +Some time in the afternoon I raised my head, and looking round and seeing +the western sun gilding the sign of its decline on the wall, I asked, +"What am I to do?" + +But the answer my mind gave--"Leave Thornfield at once"--was so prompt, +so dread, that I stopped my ears. I said I could not bear such words +now. "That I am not Edward Rochester's bride is the least part of my +woe," I alleged: "that I have wakened out of most glorious dreams, and +found them all void and vain, is a horror I could bear and master; but +that I must leave him decidedly, instantly, entirely, is intolerable. I +cannot do it." + +But, then, a voice within me averred that I could do it and foretold that +I should do it. I wrestled with my own resolution: I wanted to be weak +that I might avoid the awful passage of further suffering I saw laid out +for me; and Conscience, turned tyrant, held Passion by the throat, told +her tauntingly, she had yet but dipped her dainty foot in the slough, and +swore that with that arm of iron he would thrust her down to unsounded +depths of agony. + +"Let me be torn away," then I cried. "Let another help me!" + +"No; you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you: you shall +yourself pluck out your right eye; yourself cut off your right hand: your +heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it." + +I rose up suddenly, terror-struck at the solitude which so ruthless a +judge haunted,--at the silence which so awful a voice filled. My head +swam as I stood erect. I perceived that I was sickening from excitement +and inanition; neither meat nor drink had passed my lips that day, for I +had taken no breakfast. And, with a strange pang, I now reflected that, +long as I had been shut up here, no message had been sent to ask how I +was, or to invite me to come down: not even little Adele had tapped at +the door; not even Mrs. Fairfax had sought me. "Friends always forget +those whom fortune forsakes," I murmured, as I undrew the bolt and passed +out. I stumbled over an obstacle: my head was still dizzy, my sight was +dim, and my limbs were feeble. I could not soon recover myself. I fell, +but not on to the ground: an outstretched arm caught me. I looked up--I +was supported by Mr. Rochester, who sat in a chair across my chamber +threshold. + +"You come out at last," he said. "Well, I have been waiting for you +long, and listening: yet not one movement have I heard, nor one sob: five +minutes more of that death-like hush, and I should have forced the lock +like a burglar. So you shun me?--you shut yourself up and grieve alone! +I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence. You are +passionate. I expected a scene of some kind. I was prepared for the hot +rain of tears; only I wanted them to be shed on my breast: now a +senseless floor has received them, or your drenched handkerchief. But I +err: you have not wept at all! I see a white cheek and a faded eye, but +no trace of tears. I suppose, then, your heart has been weeping blood?" + +"Well, Jane! not a word of reproach? Nothing bitter--nothing poignant? +Nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion? You sit quietly where I +have placed you, and regard me with a weary, passive look." + +"Jane, I never meant to wound you thus. If the man who had but one +little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of his bread +and drank of his cup, and lay in his bosom, had by some mistake +slaughtered it at the shambles, he would not have rued his bloody blunder +more than I now rue mine. Will you ever forgive me?" + +Reader, I forgave him at the moment and on the spot. There was such deep +remorse in his eye, such true pity in his tone, such manly energy in his +manner; and besides, there was such unchanged love in his whole look and +mien--I forgave him all: yet not in words, not outwardly; only at my +heart's core. + +"You know I am a scoundrel, Jane?" ere long he inquired +wistfully--wondering, I suppose, at my continued silence and tameness, +the result rather of weakness than of will. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then tell me so roundly and sharply--don't spare me." + +"I cannot: I am tired and sick. I want some water." He heaved a sort of +shuddering sigh, and taking me in his arms, carried me downstairs. At +first I did not know to what room he had borne me; all was cloudy to my +glazed sight: presently I felt the reviving warmth of a fire; for, summer +as it was, I had become icy cold in my chamber. He put wine to my lips; +I tasted it and revived; then I ate something he offered me, and was soon +myself. I was in the library--sitting in his chair--he was quite near. +"If I could go out of life now, without too sharp a pang, it would be +well for me," I thought; "then I should not have to make the effort of +cracking my heart-strings in rending them from among Mr. Rochester's. I +must leave him, it appears. I do not want to leave him--I cannot leave +him." + +"How are you now, Jane?" + +"Much better, sir; I shall be well soon." + +"Taste the wine again, Jane." + +I obeyed him; then he put the glass on the table, stood before me, and +looked at me attentively. Suddenly he turned away, with an inarticulate +exclamation, full of passionate emotion of some kind; he walked fast +through the room and came back; he stooped towards me as if to kiss me; +but I remembered caresses were now forbidden. I turned my face away and +put his aside. + +"What!--How is this?" he exclaimed hastily. "Oh, I know! you won't kiss +the husband of Bertha Mason? You consider my arms filled and my embraces +appropriated?" + +"At any rate, there is neither room nor claim for me, sir." + +"Why, Jane? I will spare you the trouble of much talking; I will answer +for you--Because I have a wife already, you would reply.--I guess +rightly?" + +"Yes." + +"If you think so, you must have a strange opinion of me; you must regard +me as a plotting profligate--a base and low rake who has been simulating +disinterested love in order to draw you into a snare deliberately laid, +and strip you of honour and rob you of self-respect. What do you say to +that? I see you can say nothing in the first place, you are faint still, +and have enough to do to draw your breath; in the second place, you +cannot yet accustom yourself to accuse and revile me, and besides, the +flood-gates of tears are opened, and they would rush out if you spoke +much; and you have no desire to expostulate, to upbraid, to make a scene: +you are thinking how _to act_--_talking_ you consider is of no use. I +know you--I am on my guard." + +"Sir, I do not wish to act against you," I said; and my unsteady voice +warned me to curtail my sentence. + +"Not in your sense of the word, but in mine you are scheming to destroy +me. You have as good as said that I am a married man--as a married man +you will shun me, keep out of my way: just now you have refused to kiss +me. You intend to make yourself a complete stranger to me: to live under +this roof only as Adele's governess; if ever I say a friendly word to +you, if ever a friendly feeling inclines you again to me, you will +say,--'That man had nearly made me his mistress: I must be ice and rock +to him;' and ice and rock you will accordingly become." + +I cleared and steadied my voice to reply: "All is changed about me, sir; +I must change too--there is no doubt of that; and to avoid fluctuations +of feeling, and continual combats with recollections and associations, +there is only one way--Adele must have a new governess, sir." + +"Oh, Adele will go to school--I have settled that already; nor do I mean +to torment you with the hideous associations and recollections of +Thornfield Hall--this accursed place--this tent of Achan--this insolent +vault, offering the ghastliness of living death to the light of the open +sky--this narrow stone hell, with its one real fiend, worse than a legion +of such as we imagine. Jane, you shall not stay here, nor will I. I was +wrong ever to bring you to Thornfield Hall, knowing as I did how it was +haunted. I charged them to conceal from you, before I ever saw you, all +knowledge of the curse of the place; merely because I feared Adele never +would have a governess to stay if she knew with what inmate she was +housed, and my plans would not permit me to remove the maniac +elsewhere--though I possess an old house, Ferndean Manor, even more +retired and hidden than this, where I could have lodged her safely +enough, had not a scruple about the unhealthiness of the situation, in +the heart of a wood, made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. +Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to +each villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect +assassination, even of what I most hate. + +"Concealing the mad-woman's neighbourhood from you, however, was +something like covering a child with a cloak and laying it down near a +upas-tree: that demon's vicinage is poisoned, and always was. But I'll +shut up Thornfield Hall: I'll nail up the front door and board the lower +windows: I'll give Mrs. Poole two hundred a year to live here with _my +wife_, as you term that fearful hag: Grace will do much for money, and +she shall have her son, the keeper at Grimsby Retreat, to bear her +company and be at hand to give her aid in the paroxysms, when _my wife_ +is prompted by her familiar to burn people in their beds at night, to +stab them, to bite their flesh from their bones, and so on--" + +"Sir," I interrupted him, "you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: +you speak of her with hate--with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel--she +cannot help being mad." + +"Jane, my little darling (so I will call you, for so you are), you don't +know what you are talking about; you misjudge me again: it is not because +she is mad I hate her. If you were mad, do you think I should hate you?" + +"I do indeed, sir." + +"Then you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about +the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as +dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your +mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure +still: if you raved, my arms should confine you, and not a strait +waistcoat--your grasp, even in fury, would have a charm for me: if you +flew at me as wildly as that woman did this morning, I should receive you +in an embrace, at least as fond as it would be restrictive. I should not +shrink from you with disgust as I did from her: in your quiet moments you +should have no watcher and no nurse but me; and I could hang over you +with untiring tenderness, though you gave me no smile in return; and +never weary of gazing into your eyes, though they had no longer a ray of +recognition for me.--But why do I follow that train of ideas? I was +talking of removing you from Thornfield. All, you know, is prepared for +prompt departure: to-morrow you shall go. I only ask you to endure one +more night under this roof, Jane; and then, farewell to its miseries and +terrors for ever! I have a place to repair to, which will be a secure +sanctuary from hateful reminiscences, from unwelcome intrusion--even from +falsehood and slander." + +"And take Adele with you, sir," I interrupted; "she will be a companion +for you." + +"What do you mean, Jane? I told you I would send Adele to school; and +what do I want with a child for a companion, and not my own child,--a +French dancer's bastard? Why do you importune me about her! I say, why +do you assign Adele to me for a companion?" + +"You spoke of a retirement, sir; and retirement and solitude are dull: +too dull for you." + +"Solitude! solitude!" he reiterated with irritation. "I see I must come +to an explanation. I don't know what sphynx-like expression is forming +in your countenance. You are to share my solitude. Do you understand?" + +I shook my head: it required a degree of courage, excited as he was +becoming, even to risk that mute sign of dissent. He had been walking +fast about the room, and he stopped, as if suddenly rooted to one spot. +He looked at me long and hard: I turned my eyes from him, fixed them on +the fire, and tried to assume and maintain a quiet, collected aspect. + +"Now for the hitch in Jane's character," he said at last, speaking more +calmly than from his look I had expected him to speak. "The reel of silk +has run smoothly enough so far; but I always knew there would come a knot +and a puzzle: here it is. Now for vexation, and exasperation, and +endless trouble! By God! I long to exert a fraction of Samson's +strength, and break the entanglement like tow!" + +He recommenced his walk, but soon again stopped, and this time just +before me. + +"Jane! will you hear reason?" (he stooped and approached his lips to my +ear); "because, if you won't, I'll try violence." His voice was hoarse; +his look that of a man who is just about to burst an insufferable bond +and plunge headlong into wild license. I saw that in another moment, and +with one impetus of frenzy more, I should be able to do nothing with him. +The present--the passing second of time--was all I had in which to +control and restrain him--a movement of repulsion, flight, fear would +have sealed my doom,--and his. But I was not afraid: not in the least. I +felt an inward power; a sense of influence, which supported me. The +crisis was perilous; but not without its charm: such as the Indian, +perhaps, feels when he slips over the rapid in his canoe. I took hold of +his clenched hand, loosened the contorted fingers, and said to him, +soothingly-- + +"Sit down; I'll talk to you as long as you like, and hear all you have to +say, whether reasonable or unreasonable." + +He sat down: but he did not get leave to speak directly. I had been +struggling with tears for some time: I had taken great pains to repress +them, because I knew he would not like to see me weep. Now, however, I +considered it well to let them flow as freely and as long as they liked. +If the flood annoyed him, so much the better. So I gave way and cried +heartily. + +Soon I heard him earnestly entreating me to be composed. I said I could +not while he was in such a passion. + +"But I am not angry, Jane: I only love you too well; and you had steeled +your little pale face with such a resolute, frozen look, I could not +endure it. Hush, now, and wipe your eyes." + +His softened voice announced that he was subdued; so I, in my turn, +became calm. Now he made an effort to rest his head on my shoulder, but +I would not permit it. Then he would draw me to him: no. + +"Jane! Jane!" he said, in such an accent of bitter sadness it thrilled +along every nerve I had; "you don't love me, then? It was only my +station, and the rank of my wife, that you valued? Now that you think me +disqualified to become your husband, you recoil from my touch as if I +were some toad or ape." + +These words cut me: yet what could I do or I say? I ought probably to +have done or said nothing; but I was so tortured by a sense of remorse at +thus hurting his feelings, I could not control the wish to drop balm +where I had wounded. + +"I _do_ love you," I said, "more than ever: but I must not show or +indulge the feeling: and this is the last time I must express it." + +"The last time, Jane! What! do you think you can live with me, and see +me daily, and yet, if you still love me, be always cold and distant?" + +"No, sir; that I am certain I could not; and therefore I see there is but +one way: but you will be furious if I mention it." + +"Oh, mention it! If I storm, you have the art of weeping." + +"Mr. Rochester, I must leave you." + +"For how long, Jane? For a few minutes, while you smooth your hair--which +is somewhat dishevelled; and bathe your face--which looks feverish?" + +"I must leave Adele and Thornfield. I must part with you for my whole +life: I must begin a new existence among strange faces and strange +scenes." + +"Of course: I told you you should. I pass over the madness about parting +from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to the new +existence, it is all right: you shall yet be my wife: I am not married. +You shall be Mrs. Rochester--both virtually and nominally. I shall keep +only to you so long as you and I live. You shall go to a place I have in +the south of France: a whitewashed villa on the shores of the +Mediterranean. There you shall live a happy, and guarded, and most +innocent life. Never fear that I wish to lure you into error--to make +you my mistress. Why did you shake your head? Jane, you must be +reasonable, or in truth I shall again become frantic." + +His voice and hand quivered: his large nostrils dilated; his eye blazed: +still I dared to speak. + +"Sir, your wife is living: that is a fact acknowledged this morning by +yourself. If I lived with you as you desire, I should then be your +mistress: to say otherwise is sophistical--is false." + +"Jane, I am not a gentle-tempered man--you forget that: I am not long- +enduring; I am not cool and dispassionate. Out of pity to me and +yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel how it throbs, and--beware!" + +He bared his wrist, and offered it to me: the blood was forsaking his +cheek and lips, they were growing livid; I was distressed on all hands. +To agitate him thus deeply, by a resistance he so abhorred, was cruel: to +yield was out of the question. I did what human beings do instinctively +when they are driven to utter extremity--looked for aid to one higher +than man: the words "God help me!" burst involuntarily from my lips. + +"I am a fool!" cried Mr. Rochester suddenly. "I keep telling her I am +not married, and do not explain to her why. I forget she knows nothing +of the character of that woman, or of the circumstances attending my +infernal union with her. Oh, I am certain Jane will agree with me in +opinion, when she knows all that I know! Just put your hand in mine, +Janet--that I may have the evidence of touch as well as sight, to prove +you are near me--and I will in a few words show you the real state of the +case. Can you listen to me?" + +"Yes, sir; for hours if you will." + +"I ask only minutes. Jane, did you ever hear or know that I was not the +eldest son of my house: that I had once a brother older than I?" + +"I remember Mrs. Fairfax told me so once." + +"And did you ever hear that my father was an avaricious, grasping man?" + +"I have understood something to that effect." + +"Well, Jane, being so, it was his resolution to keep the property +together; he could not bear the idea of dividing his estate and leaving +me a fair portion: all, he resolved, should go to my brother, Rowland. +Yet as little could he endure that a son of his should be a poor man. I +must be provided for by a wealthy marriage. He sought me a partner +betimes. Mr. Mason, a West India planter and merchant, was his old +acquaintance. He was certain his possessions were real and vast: he made +inquiries. Mr. Mason, he found, had a son and daughter; and he learned +from him that he could and would give the latter a fortune of thirty +thousand pounds: that sufficed. When I left college, I was sent out to +Jamaica, to espouse a bride already courted for me. My father said +nothing about her money; but he told me Miss Mason was the boast of +Spanish Town for her beauty: and this was no lie. I found her a fine +woman, in the style of Blanche Ingram: tall, dark, and majestic. Her +family wished to secure me because I was of a good race; and so did she. +They showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. I seldom saw her +alone, and had very little private conversation with her. She flattered +me, and lavishly displayed for my pleasure her charms and +accomplishments. All the men in her circle seemed to admire her and envy +me. I was dazzled, stimulated: my senses were excited; and being +ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her. There is no +folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of society, the prurience, +the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its +commission. Her relatives encouraged me; competitors piqued me; she +allured me: a marriage was achieved almost before I knew where I was. Oh, +I have no respect for myself when I think of that act!--an agony of +inward contempt masters me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not +even know her. I was not sure of the existence of one virtue in her +nature: I had marked neither modesty, nor benevolence, nor candour, nor +refinement in her mind or manners--and, I married her:--gross, +grovelling, mole-eyed blockhead that I was! With less sin I might +have--But let me remember to whom I am speaking." + +"My bride's mother I had never seen: I understood she was dead. The +honeymoon over, I learned my mistake; she was only mad, and shut up in a +lunatic asylum. There was a younger brother, too--a complete dumb idiot. +The elder one, whom you have seen (and whom I cannot hate, whilst I abhor +all his kindred, because he has some grains of affection in his feeble +mind, shown in the continued interest he takes in his wretched sister, +and also in a dog-like attachment he once bore me), will probably be in +the same state one day. My father and my brother Rowland knew all this; +but they thought only of the thirty thousand pounds, and joined in the +plot against me." + +"These were vile discoveries; but except for the treachery of +concealment, I should have made them no subject of reproach to my wife, +even when I found her nature wholly alien to mine, her tastes obnoxious +to me, her cast of mind common, low, narrow, and singularly incapable of +being led to anything higher, expanded to anything larger--when I found +that I could not pass a single evening, nor even a single hour of the day +with her in comfort; that kindly conversation could not be sustained +between us, because whatever topic I started, immediately received from +her a turn at once coarse and trite, perverse and imbecile--when I +perceived that I should never have a quiet or settled household, because +no servant would bear the continued outbreaks of her violent and +unreasonable temper, or the vexations of her absurd, contradictory, +exacting orders--even then I restrained myself: I eschewed upbraiding, I +curtailed remonstrance; I tried to devour my repentance and disgust in +secret; I repressed the deep antipathy I felt. + +"Jane, I will not trouble you with abominable details: some strong words +shall express what I have to say. I lived with that woman upstairs four +years, and before that time she had tried me indeed: her character +ripened and developed with frightful rapidity; her vices sprang up fast +and rank: they were so strong, only cruelty could check them, and I would +not use cruelty. What a pigmy intellect she had, and what giant +propensities! How fearful were the curses those propensities entailed on +me! Bertha Mason, the true daughter of an infamous mother, dragged me +through all the hideous and degrading agonies which must attend a man +bound to a wife at once intemperate and unchaste. + +"My brother in the interval was dead, and at the end of the four years my +father died too. I was rich enough now--yet poor to hideous indigence: a +nature the most gross, impure, depraved I ever saw, was associated with +mine, and called by the law and by society a part of me. And I could not +rid myself of it by any legal proceedings: for the doctors now discovered +that _my wife_ was mad--her excesses had prematurely developed the germs +of insanity. Jane, you don't like my narrative; you look almost +sick--shall I defer the rest to another day?" + +"No, sir, finish it now; I pity you--I do earnestly pity you." + +"Pity, Jane, from some people is a noxious and insulting sort of tribute, +which one is justified in hurling back in the teeth of those who offer +it; but that is the sort of pity native to callous, selfish hearts; it is +a hybrid, egotistical pain at hearing of woes, crossed with ignorant +contempt for those who have endured them. But that is not your pity, +Jane; it is not the feeling of which your whole face is full at this +moment--with which your eyes are now almost overflowing--with which your +heart is heaving--with which your hand is trembling in mine. Your pity, +my darling, is the suffering mother of love: its anguish is the very +natal pang of the divine passion. I accept it, Jane; let the daughter +have free advent--my arms wait to receive her." + +"Now, sir, proceed; what did you do when you found she was mad?" + +"Jane, I approached the verge of despair; a remnant of self-respect was +all that intervened between me and the gulf. In the eyes of the world, I +was doubtless covered with grimy dishonour; but I resolved to be clean in +my own sight--and to the last I repudiated the contamination of her +crimes, and wrenched myself from connection with her mental defects. +Still, society associated my name and person with hers; I yet saw her and +heard her daily: something of her breath (faugh!) mixed with the air I +breathed; and besides, I remembered I had once been her husband--that +recollection was then, and is now, inexpressibly odious to me; moreover, +I knew that while she lived I could never be the husband of another and +better wife; and, though five years my senior (her family and her father +had lied to me even in the particular of her age), she was likely to live +as long as I, being as robust in frame as she was infirm in mind. Thus, +at the age of twenty-six, I was hopeless. + +"One night I had been awakened by her yells--(since the medical men had +pronounced her mad, she had, of course, been shut up)--it was a fiery +West Indian night; one of the description that frequently precede the +hurricanes of those climates. Being unable to sleep in bed, I got up and +opened the window. The air was like sulphur-steams--I could find no +refreshment anywhere. Mosquitoes came buzzing in and hummed sullenly +round the room; the sea, which I could hear from thence, rumbled dull +like an earthquake--black clouds were casting up over it; the moon was +setting in the waves, broad and red, like a hot cannon-ball--she threw +her last bloody glance over a world quivering with the ferment of +tempest. I was physically influenced by the atmosphere and scene, and my +ears were filled with the curses the maniac still shrieked out; wherein +she momentarily mingled my name with such a tone of demon-hate, with such +language!--no professed harlot ever had a fouler vocabulary than she: +though two rooms off, I heard every word--the thin partitions of the West +India house opposing but slight obstruction to her wolfish cries. + +"'This life,' said I at last, 'is hell: this is the air--those are the +sounds of the bottomless pit! I have a right to deliver myself from it +if I can. The sufferings of this mortal state will leave me with the +heavy flesh that now cumbers my soul. Of the fanatic's burning eternity +I have no fear: there is not a future state worse than this present +one--let me break away, and go home to God!' + +"I said this whilst I knelt down at, and unlocked a trunk which contained +a brace of loaded pistols: I mean to shoot myself. I only entertained +the intention for a moment; for, not being insane, the crisis of +exquisite and unalloyed despair, which had originated the wish and design +of self-destruction, was past in a second. + +"A wind fresh from Europe blew over the ocean and rushed through the open +casement: the storm broke, streamed, thundered, blazed, and the air grew +pure. I then framed and fixed a resolution. While I walked under the +dripping orange-trees of my wet garden, and amongst its drenched +pomegranates and pine-apples, and while the refulgent dawn of the tropics +kindled round me--I reasoned thus, Jane--and now listen; for it was true +Wisdom that consoled me in that hour, and showed me the right path to +follow. + +"The sweet wind from Europe was still whispering in the refreshed leaves, +and the Atlantic was thundering in glorious liberty; my heart, dried up +and scorched for a long time, swelled to the tone, and filled with living +blood--my being longed for renewal--my soul thirsted for a pure draught. +I saw hope revive--and felt regeneration possible. From a flowery arch +at the bottom of my garden I gazed over the sea--bluer than the sky: the +old world was beyond; clear prospects opened thus:-- + +"'Go,' said Hope, 'and live again in Europe: there it is not known what a +sullied name you bear, nor what a filthy burden is bound to you. You may +take the maniac with you to England; confine her with due attendance and +precautions at Thornfield: then travel yourself to what clime you will, +and form what new tie you like. That woman, who has so abused your long- +suffering, so sullied your name, so outraged your honour, so blighted +your youth, is not your wife, nor are you her husband. See that she is +cared for as her condition demands, and you have done all that God and +humanity require of you. Let her identity, her connection with yourself, +be buried in oblivion: you are bound to impart them to no living being. +Place her in safety and comfort: shelter her degradation with secrecy, +and leave her.' + +"I acted precisely on this suggestion. My father and brother had not +made my marriage known to their acquaintance; because, in the very first +letter I wrote to apprise them of the union--having already begun to +experience extreme disgust of its consequences, and, from the family +character and constitution, seeing a hideous future opening to me--I +added an urgent charge to keep it secret: and very soon the infamous +conduct of the wife my father had selected for me was such as to make him +blush to own her as his daughter-in-law. Far from desiring to publish +the connection, he became as anxious to conceal it as myself. + +"To England, then, I conveyed her; a fearful voyage I had with such a +monster in the vessel. Glad was I when I at last got her to Thornfield, +and saw her safely lodged in that third-storey room, of whose secret +inner cabinet she has now for ten years made a wild beast's den--a +goblin's cell. I had some trouble in finding an attendant for her, as it +was necessary to select one on whose fidelity dependence could be placed; +for her ravings would inevitably betray my secret: besides, she had lucid +intervals of days--sometimes weeks--which she filled up with abuse of me. +At last I hired Grace Poole from the Grimbsy Retreat. She and the +surgeon, Carter (who dressed Mason's wounds that night he was stabbed and +worried), are the only two I have ever admitted to my confidence. Mrs. +Fairfax may indeed have suspected something, but she could have gained no +precise knowledge as to facts. Grace has, on the whole, proved a good +keeper; though, owing partly to a fault of her own, of which it appears +nothing can cure her, and which is incident to her harassing profession, +her vigilance has been more than once lulled and baffled. The lunatic is +both cunning and malignant; she has never failed to take advantage of her +guardian's temporary lapses; once to secrete the knife with which she +stabbed her brother, and twice to possess herself of the key of her cell, +and issue therefrom in the night-time. On the first of these occasions, +she perpetrated the attempt to burn me in my bed; on the second, she paid +that ghastly visit to you. I thank Providence, who watched over you, +that she then spent her fury on your wedding apparel, which perhaps +brought back vague reminiscences of her own bridal days: but on what +might have happened, I cannot endure to reflect. When I think of the +thing which flew at my throat this morning, hanging its black and scarlet +visage over the nest of my dove, my blood curdles--" + +"And what, sir," I asked, while he paused, "did you do when you had +settled her here? Where did you go?" + +"What did I do, Jane? I transformed myself into a will-o'-the-wisp. +Where did I go? I pursued wanderings as wild as those of the +March-spirit. I sought the Continent, and went devious through all its +lands. My fixed desire was to seek and find a good and intelligent +woman, whom I could love: a contrast to the fury I left at Thornfield--" + +"But you could not marry, sir." + +"I had determined and was convinced that I could and ought. It was not +my original intention to deceive, as I have deceived you. I meant to +tell my tale plainly, and make my proposals openly: and it appeared to me +so absolutely rational that I should be considered free to love and be +loved, I never doubted some woman might be found willing and able to +understand my case and accept me, in spite of the curse with which I was +burdened." + +"Well, sir?" + +"When you are inquisitive, Jane, you always make me smile. You open your +eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a restless movement, +as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you, and you wanted +to read the tablet of one's heart. But before I go on, tell me what you +mean by your 'Well, sir?' It is a small phrase very frequent with you; +and which many a time has drawn me on and on through interminable talk: I +don't very well know why." + +"I mean,--What next? How did you proceed? What came of such an event?" + +"Precisely! and what do you wish to know now?" + +"Whether you found any one you liked: whether you asked her to marry you; +and what she said." + +"I can tell you whether I found any one I liked, and whether I asked her +to marry me: but what she said is yet to be recorded in the book of Fate. +For ten long years I roved about, living first in one capital, then +another: sometimes in St. Petersburg; oftener in Paris; occasionally in +Rome, Naples, and Florence. Provided with plenty of money and the +passport of an old name, I could choose my own society: no circles were +closed against me. I sought my ideal of a woman amongst English ladies, +French countesses, Italian signoras, and German grafinnen. I could not +find her. Sometimes, for a fleeting moment, I thought I caught a glance, +heard a tone, beheld a form, which announced the realisation of my dream: +but I was presently undeserved. You are not to suppose that I desired +perfection, either of mind or person. I longed only for what suited +me--for the antipodes of the Creole: and I longed vainly. Amongst them +all I found not one whom, had I been ever so free, I--warned as I was of +the risks, the horrors, the loathings of incongruous unions--would have +asked to marry me. Disappointment made me reckless. I tried +dissipation--never debauchery: that I hated, and hate. That was my +Indian Messalina's attribute: rooted disgust at it and her restrained me +much, even in pleasure. Any enjoyment that bordered on riot seemed to +approach me to her and her vices, and I eschewed it. + +"Yet I could not live alone; so I tried the companionship of mistresses. +The first I chose was Celine Varens--another of those steps which make a +man spurn himself when he recalls them. You already know what she was, +and how my liaison with her terminated. She had two successors: an +Italian, Giacinta, and a German, Clara; both considered singularly +handsome. What was their beauty to me in a few weeks? Giacinta was +unprincipled and violent: I tired of her in three months. Clara was +honest and quiet; but heavy, mindless, and unimpressible: not one whit to +my taste. I was glad to give her a sufficient sum to set her up in a +good line of business, and so get decently rid of her. But, Jane, I see +by your face you are not forming a very favourable opinion of me just +now. You think me an unfeeling, loose-principled rake: don't you?" + +"I don't like you so well as I have done sometimes, indeed, sir. Did it +not seem to you in the least wrong to live in that way, first with one +mistress and then another? You talk of it as a mere matter of course." + +"It was with me; and I did not like it. It was a grovelling fashion of +existence: I should never like to return to it. Hiring a mistress is the +next worse thing to buying a slave: both are often by nature, and always +by position, inferior: and to live familiarly with inferiors is +degrading. I now hate the recollection of the time I passed with Celine, +Giacinta, and Clara." + +I felt the truth of these words; and I drew from them the certain +inference, that if I were so far to forget myself and all the teaching +that had ever been instilled into me, as--under any pretext--with any +justification--through any temptation--to become the successor of these +poor girls, he would one day regard me with the same feeling which now in +his mind desecrated their memory. I did not give utterance to this +conviction: it was enough to feel it. I impressed it on my heart, that +it might remain there to serve me as aid in the time of trial. + +"Now, Jane, why don't you say 'Well, sir?' I have not done. You are +looking grave. You disapprove of me still, I see. But let me come to +the point. Last January, rid of all mistresses--in a harsh, bitter frame +of mind, the result of a useless, roving, lonely life--corroded with +disappointment, sourly disposed against all men, and especially against +all womankind (for I began to regard the notion of an intellectual, +faithful, loving woman as a mere dream), recalled by business, I came +back to England. + +"On a frosty winter afternoon, I rode in sight of Thornfield Hall. +Abhorred spot! I expected no peace--no pleasure there. On a stile in +Hay Lane I saw a quiet little figure sitting by itself. I passed it as +negligently as I did the pollard willow opposite to it: I had no +presentiment of what it would be to me; no inward warning that the +arbitress of my life--my genius for good or evil--waited there in humble +guise. I did not know it, even when, on the occasion of Mesrour's +accident, it came up and gravely offered me help. Childish and slender +creature! It seemed as if a linnet had hopped to my foot and proposed to +bear me on its tiny wing. I was surly; but the thing would not go: it +stood by me with strange perseverance, and looked and spoke with a sort +of authority. I must be aided, and by that hand: and aided I was. + +"When once I had pressed the frail shoulder, something new--a fresh sap +and sense--stole into my frame. It was well I had learnt that this elf +must return to me--that it belonged to my house down below--or I could +not have felt it pass away from under my hand, and seen it vanish behind +the dim hedge, without singular regret. I heard you come home that +night, Jane, though probably you were not aware that I thought of you or +watched for you. The next day I observed you--myself unseen--for half-an- +hour, while you played with Adele in the gallery. It was a snowy day, I +recollect, and you could not go out of doors. I was in my room; the door +was ajar: I could both listen and watch. Adele claimed your outward +attention for a while; yet I fancied your thoughts were elsewhere: but +you were very patient with her, my little Jane; you talked to her and +amused her a long time. When at last she left you, you lapsed at once +into deep reverie: you betook yourself slowly to pace the gallery. Now +and then, in passing a casement, you glanced out at the thick-falling +snow; you listened to the sobbing wind, and again you paced gently on and +dreamed. I think those day visions were not dark: there was a +pleasurable illumination in your eye occasionally, a soft excitement in +your aspect, which told of no bitter, bilious, hypochondriac brooding: +your look revealed rather the sweet musings of youth when its spirit +follows on willing wings the flight of Hope up and on to an ideal heaven. +The voice of Mrs. Fairfax, speaking to a servant in the hall, wakened +you: and how curiously you smiled to and at yourself, Janet! There was +much sense in your smile: it was very shrewd, and seemed to make light of +your own abstraction. It seemed to say--'My fine visions are all very +well, but I must not forget they are absolutely unreal. I have a rosy +sky and a green flowery Eden in my brain; but without, I am perfectly +aware, lies at my feet a rough tract to travel, and around me gather +black tempests to encounter.' You ran downstairs and demanded of Mrs. +Fairfax some occupation: the weekly house accounts to make up, or +something of that sort, I think it was. I was vexed with you for getting +out of my sight. + +"Impatiently I waited for evening, when I might summon you to my +presence. An unusual--to me--a perfectly new character I suspected was +yours: I desired to search it deeper and know it better. You entered the +room with a look and air at once shy and independent: you were quaintly +dressed--much as you are now. I made you talk: ere long I found you full +of strange contrasts. Your garb and manner were restricted by rule; your +air was often diffident, and altogether that of one refined by nature, +but absolutely unused to society, and a good deal afraid of making +herself disadvantageously conspicuous by some solecism or blunder; yet +when addressed, you lifted a keen, a daring, and a glowing eye to your +interlocutor's face: there was penetration and power in each glance you +gave; when plied by close questions, you found ready and round answers. +Very soon you seemed to get used to me: I believe you felt the existence +of sympathy between you and your grim and cross master, Jane; for it was +astonishing to see how quickly a certain pleasant ease tranquillised your +manner: snarl as I would, you showed no surprise, fear, annoyance, or +displeasure at my moroseness; you watched me, and now and then smiled at +me with a simple yet sagacious grace I cannot describe. I was at once +content and stimulated with what I saw: I liked what I had seen, and +wished to see more. Yet, for a long time, I treated you distantly, and +sought your company rarely. I was an intellectual epicure, and wished to +prolong the gratification of making this novel and piquant acquaintance: +besides, I was for a while troubled with a haunting fear that if I +handled the flower freely its bloom would fade--the sweet charm of +freshness would leave it. I did not then know that it was no transitory +blossom, but rather the radiant resemblance of one, cut in an +indestructible gem. Moreover, I wished to see whether you would seek me +if I shunned you--but you did not; you kept in the schoolroom as still as +your own desk and easel; if by chance I met you, you passed me as soon, +and with as little token of recognition, as was consistent with respect. +Your habitual expression in those days, Jane, was a thoughtful look; not +despondent, for you were not sickly; but not buoyant, for you had little +hope, and no actual pleasure. I wondered what you thought of me, or if +you ever thought of me, and resolved to find this out. + +"I resumed my notice of you. There was something glad in your glance, +and genial in your manner, when you conversed: I saw you had a social +heart; it was the silent schoolroom--it was the tedium of your life--that +made you mournful. I permitted myself the delight of being kind to you; +kindness stirred emotion soon: your face became soft in expression, your +tones gentle; I liked my name pronounced by your lips in a grateful happy +accent. I used to enjoy a chance meeting with you, Jane, at this time: +there was a curious hesitation in your manner: you glanced at me with a +slight trouble--a hovering doubt: you did not know what my caprice might +be--whether I was going to play the master and be stern, or the friend +and be benignant. I was now too fond of you often to simulate the first +whim; and, when I stretched my hand out cordially, such bloom and light +and bliss rose to your young, wistful features, I had much ado often to +avoid straining you then and there to my heart." + +"Don't talk any more of those days, sir," I interrupted, furtively +dashing away some tears from my eyes; his language was torture to me; for +I knew what I must do--and do soon--and all these reminiscences, and +these revelations of his feelings only made my work more difficult. + +"No, Jane," he returned: "what necessity is there to dwell on the Past, +when the Present is so much surer--the Future so much brighter?" + +I shuddered to hear the infatuated assertion. + +"You see now how the case stands--do you not?" he continued. "After a +youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary +solitude, I have for the first time found what I can truly love--I have +found you. You are my sympathy--my better self--my good angel. I am +bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: +a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, +draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, +and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one. + +"It was because I felt and knew this, that I resolved to marry you. To +tell me that I had already a wife is empty mockery: you know now that I +had but a hideous demon. I was wrong to attempt to deceive you; but I +feared a stubbornness that exists in your character. I feared early +instilled prejudice: I wanted to have you safe before hazarding +confidences. This was cowardly: I should have appealed to your nobleness +and magnanimity at first, as I do now--opened to you plainly my life of +agony--described to you my hunger and thirst after a higher and worthier +existence--shown to you, not my _resolution_ (that word is weak), but my +resistless _bent_ to love faithfully and well, where I am faithfully and +well loved in return. Then I should have asked you to accept my pledge +of fidelity and to give me yours. Jane--give it me now." + +A pause. + +"Why are you silent, Jane?" + +I was experiencing an ordeal: a hand of fiery iron grasped my vitals. +Terrible moment: full of struggle, blackness, burning! Not a human being +that ever lived could wish to be loved better than I was loved; and him +who thus loved me I absolutely worshipped: and I must renounce love and +idol. One drear word comprised my intolerable duty--"Depart!" + +"Jane, you understand what I want of you? Just this promise--'I will be +yours, Mr. Rochester.'" + +"Mr. Rochester, I will _not_ be yours." + +Another long silence. + +"Jane!" recommenced he, with a gentleness that broke me down with grief, +and turned me stone-cold with ominous terror--for this still voice was +the pant of a lion rising--"Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, +and to let me go another?" + +"I do." + +"Jane" (bending towards and embracing me), "do you mean it now?" + +"I do." + +"And now?" softly kissing my forehead and cheek. + +"I do," extricating myself from restraint rapidly and completely. + +"Oh, Jane, this is bitter! This--this is wicked. It would not be wicked +to love me." + +"It would to obey you." + +A wild look raised his brows--crossed his features: he rose; but he +forebore yet. I laid my hand on the back of a chair for support: I +shook, I feared--but I resolved. + +"One instant, Jane. Give one glance to my horrible life when you are +gone. All happiness will be torn away with you. What then is left? For +a wife I have but the maniac upstairs: as well might you refer me to some +corpse in yonder churchyard. What shall I do, Jane? Where turn for a +companion and for some hope?" + +"Do as I do: trust in God and yourself. Believe in heaven. Hope to meet +again there." + +"Then you will not yield?" + +"No." + +"Then you condemn me to live wretched and to die accursed?" His voice +rose. + +"I advise you to live sinless, and I wish you to die tranquil." + +"Then you snatch love and innocence from me? You fling me back on lust +for a passion--vice for an occupation?" + +"Mr. Rochester, I no more assign this fate to you than I grasp at it for +myself. We were born to strive and endure--you as well as I: do so. You +will forget me before I forget you." + +"You make me a liar by such language: you sully my honour. I declared I +could not change: you tell me to my face I shall change soon. And what a +distortion in your judgment, what a perversity in your ideas, is proved +by your conduct! Is it better to drive a fellow-creature to despair than +to transgress a mere human law, no man being injured by the breach? for +you have neither relatives nor acquaintances whom you need fear to offend +by living with me?" + +This was true: and while he spoke my very conscience and reason turned +traitors against me, and charged me with crime in resisting him. They +spoke almost as loud as Feeling: and that clamoured wildly. "Oh, +comply!" it said. "Think of his misery; think of his danger--look at his +state when left alone; remember his headlong nature; consider the +recklessness following on despair--soothe him; save him; love him; tell +him you love him and will be his. Who in the world cares for _you_? or +who will be injured by what you do?" + +Still indomitable was the reply--"_I_ care for myself. The more +solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will +respect myself. I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I +will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not +mad--as I am now. Laws and principles are not for the times when there +is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul +rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they +shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would +be their worth? They have a worth--so I have always believed; and if I +cannot believe it now, it is because I am insane--quite insane: with my +veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its +throbs. Preconceived opinions, foregone determinations, are all I have +at this hour to stand by: there I plant my foot." + +I did. Mr. Rochester, reading my countenance, saw I had done so. His +fury was wrought to the highest: he must yield to it for a moment, +whatever followed; he crossed the floor and seized my arm and grasped my +waist. He seemed to devour me with his flaming glance: physically, I +felt, at the moment, powerless as stubble exposed to the draught and glow +of a furnace: mentally, I still possessed my soul, and with it the +certainty of ultimate safety. The soul, fortunately, has an +interpreter--often an unconscious, but still a truthful interpreter--in +the eye. My eye rose to his; and while I looked in his fierce face I +gave an involuntary sigh; his gripe was painful, and my over-taxed +strength almost exhausted. + +"Never," said he, as he ground his teeth, "never was anything at once so +frail and so indomitable. A mere reed she feels in my hand!" (And he +shook me with the force of his hold.) "I could bend her with my finger +and thumb: and what good would it do if I bent, if I uptore, if I crushed +her? Consider that eye: consider the resolute, wild, free thing looking +out of it, defying me, with more than courage--with a stern triumph. +Whatever I do with its cage, I cannot get at it--the savage, beautiful +creature! If I tear, if I rend the slight prison, my outrage will only +let the captive loose. Conqueror I might be of the house; but the inmate +would escape to heaven before I could call myself possessor of its clay +dwelling-place. And it is you, spirit--with will and energy, and virtue +and purity--that I want: not alone your brittle frame. Of yourself you +could come with soft flight and nestle against my heart, if you would: +seized against your will, you will elude the grasp like an essence--you +will vanish ere I inhale your fragrance. Oh! come, Jane, come!" + +As he said this, he released me from his clutch, and only looked at me. +The look was far worse to resist than the frantic strain: only an idiot, +however, would have succumbed now. I had dared and baffled his fury; I +must elude his sorrow: I retired to the door. + +"You are going, Jane?" + +"I am going, sir." + +"You are leaving me?" + +"Yes." + +"You will not come? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep +love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?" + +What unutterable pathos was in his voice! How hard it was to reiterate +firmly, "I am going." + +"Jane!" + +"Mr. Rochester!" + +"Withdraw, then,--I consent; but remember, you leave me here in anguish. +Go up to your own room; think over all I have said, and, Jane, cast a +glance on my sufferings--think of me." + +He turned away; he threw himself on his face on the sofa. "Oh, Jane! my +hope--my love--my life!" broke in anguish from his lips. Then came a +deep, strong sob. + +I had already gained the door; but, reader, I walked back--walked back as +determinedly as I had retreated. I knelt down by him; I turned his face +from the cushion to me; I kissed his cheek; I smoothed his hair with my +hand. + +"God bless you, my dear master!" I said. "God keep you from harm and +wrong--direct you, solace you--reward you well for your past kindness to +me." + +"Little Jane's love would have been my best reward," he answered; +"without it, my heart is broken. But Jane will give me her love: +yes--nobly, generously." + +Up the blood rushed to his face; forth flashed the fire from his eyes; +erect he sprang; he held his arms out; but I evaded the embrace, and at +once quitted the room. + +"Farewell!" was the cry of my heart as I left him. Despair added, +"Farewell for ever!" + +* * * * * + +That night I never thought to sleep; but a slumber fell on me as soon as +I lay down in bed. I was transported in thought to the scenes of +childhood: I dreamt I lay in the red-room at Gateshead; that the night +was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. The light that long +ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in this vision, seemed glidingly +to mount the wall, and tremblingly to pause in the centre of the obscured +ceiling. I lifted up my head to look: the roof resolved to clouds, high +and dim; the gleam was such as the moon imparts to vapours she is about +to sever. I watched her come--watched with the strangest anticipation; +as though some word of doom were to be written on her disk. She broke +forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first penetrated the +sable folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form +shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. It gazed and +gazed on me. It spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, +yet so near, it whispered in my heart-- + +"My daughter, flee temptation." + +"Mother, I will." + +So I answered after I had waked from the trance-like dream. It was yet +night, but July nights are short: soon after midnight, dawn comes. "It +cannot be too early to commence the task I have to fulfil," thought I. I +rose: I was dressed; for I had taken off nothing but my shoes. I knew +where to find in my drawers some linen, a locket, a ring. In seeking +these articles, I encountered the beads of a pearl necklace Mr. Rochester +had forced me to accept a few days ago. I left that; it was not mine: it +was the visionary bride's who had melted in air. The other articles I +made up in a parcel; my purse, containing twenty shillings (it was all I +had), I put in my pocket: I tied on my straw bonnet, pinned my shawl, +took the parcel and my slippers, which I would not put on yet, and stole +from my room. + +"Farewell, kind Mrs. Fairfax!" I whispered, as I glided past her door. +"Farewell, my darling Adele!" I said, as I glanced towards the nursery. +No thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. I had to +deceive a fine ear: for aught I knew it might now be listening. + +I would have got past Mr. Rochester's chamber without a pause; but my +heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my foot was forced +to stop also. No sleep was there: the inmate was walking restlessly from +wall to wall; and again and again he sighed while I listened. There was +a heaven--a temporary heaven--in this room for me, if I chose: I had but +to go in and to say-- + +"Mr. Rochester, I will love you and live with you through life till +death," and a fount of rapture would spring to my lips. I thought of +this. + +That kind master, who could not sleep now, was waiting with impatience +for day. He would send for me in the morning; I should be gone. He +would have me sought for: vainly. He would feel himself forsaken; his +love rejected: he would suffer; perhaps grow desperate. I thought of +this too. My hand moved towards the lock: I caught it back, and glided +on. + +Drearily I wound my way downstairs: I knew what I had to do, and I did it +mechanically. I sought the key of the side-door in the kitchen; I +sought, too, a phial of oil and a feather; I oiled the key and the lock. +I got some water, I got some bread: for perhaps I should have to walk +far; and my strength, sorely shaken of late, must not break down. All +this I did without one sound. I opened the door, passed out, shut it +softly. Dim dawn glimmered in the yard. The great gates were closed and +locked; but a wicket in one of them was only latched. Through that I +departed: it, too, I shut; and now I was out of Thornfield. + +A mile off, beyond the fields, lay a road which stretched in the contrary +direction to Millcote; a road I had never travelled, but often noticed, +and wondered where it led: thither I bent my steps. No reflection was to +be allowed now: not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. +Not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future. The +first was a page so heavenly sweet--so deadly sad--that to read one line +of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy. The last was +an awful blank: something like the world when the deluge was gone by. + +I skirted fields, and hedges, and lanes till after sunrise. I believe it +was a lovely summer morning: I know my shoes, which I had put on when I +left the house, were soon wet with dew. But I looked neither to rising +sun, nor smiling sky, nor wakening nature. He who is taken out to pass +through a fair scene to the scaffold, thinks not of the flowers that +smile on his road, but of the block and axe-edge; of the disseverment of +bone and vein; of the grave gaping at the end: and I thought of drear +flight and homeless wandering--and oh! with agony I thought of what I +left. I could not help it. I thought of him now--in his room--watching +the sunrise; hoping I should soon come to say I would stay with him and +be his. I longed to be his; I panted to return: it was not too late; I +could yet spare him the bitter pang of bereavement. As yet my flight, I +was sure, was undiscovered. I could go back and be his comforter--his +pride; his redeemer from misery, perhaps from ruin. Oh, that fear of his +self-abandonment--far worse than my abandonment--how it goaded me! It +was a barbed arrow-head in my breast; it tore me when I tried to extract +it; it sickened me when remembrance thrust it farther in. Birds began +singing in brake and copse: birds were faithful to their mates; birds +were emblems of love. What was I? In the midst of my pain of heart and +frantic effort of principle, I abhorred myself. I had no solace from +self-approbation: none even from self-respect. I had +injured--wounded--left my master. I was hateful in my own eyes. Still I +could not turn, nor retrace one step. God must have led me on. As to my +own will or conscience, impassioned grief had trampled one and stifled +the other. I was weeping wildly as I walked along my solitary way: fast, +fast I went like one delirious. A weakness, beginning inwardly, +extending to the limbs, seized me, and I fell: I lay on the ground some +minutes, pressing my face to the wet turf. I had some fear--or hope--that +here I should die: but I was soon up; crawling forwards on my hands and +knees, and then again raised to my feet--as eager and as determined as +ever to reach the road. + +When I got there, I was forced to sit to rest me under the hedge; and +while I sat, I heard wheels, and saw a coach come on. I stood up and +lifted my hand; it stopped. I asked where it was going: the driver named +a place a long way off, and where I was sure Mr. Rochester had no +connections. I asked for what sum he would take me there; he said thirty +shillings; I answered I had but twenty; well, he would try to make it do. +He further gave me leave to get into the inside, as the vehicle was +empty: I entered, was shut in, and it rolled on its way. + +Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never +shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May +you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agonised as in +that hour left my lips; for never may you, like me, dread to be the +instrument of evil to what you wholly love. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +Two days are passed. It is a summer evening; the coachman has set me +down at a place called Whitcross; he could take me no farther for the sum +I had given, and I was not possessed of another shilling in the world. +The coach is a mile off by this time; I am alone. At this moment I +discover that I forgot to take my parcel out of the pocket of the coach, +where I had placed it for safety; there it remains, there it must remain; +and now, I am absolutely destitute. + +Whitcross is no town, nor even a hamlet; it is but a stone pillar set up +where four roads meet: whitewashed, I suppose, to be more obvious at a +distance and in darkness. Four arms spring from its summit: the nearest +town to which these point is, according to the inscription, distant ten +miles; the farthest, above twenty. From the well-known names of these +towns I learn in what county I have lighted; a north-midland shire, dusk +with moorland, ridged with mountain: this I see. There are great moors +behind and on each hand of me; there are waves of mountains far beyond +that deep valley at my feet. The population here must be thin, and I see +no passengers on these roads: they stretch out east, west, north, and +south--white, broad, lonely; they are all cut in the moor, and the +heather grows deep and wild to their very verge. Yet a chance traveller +might pass by; and I wish no eye to see me now: strangers would wonder +what I am doing, lingering here at the sign-post, evidently objectless +and lost. I might be questioned: I could give no answer but what would +sound incredible and excite suspicion. Not a tie holds me to human +society at this moment--not a charm or hope calls me where my +fellow-creatures are--none that saw me would have a kind thought or a +good wish for me. I have no relative but the universal mother, Nature: I +will seek her breast and ask repose. + +I struck straight into the heath; I held on to a hollow I saw deeply +furrowing the brown moorside; I waded knee-deep in its dark growth; I +turned with its turnings, and finding a moss-blackened granite crag in a +hidden angle, I sat down under it. High banks of moor were about me; the +crag protected my head: the sky was over that. + +Some time passed before I felt tranquil even here: I had a vague dread +that wild cattle might be near, or that some sportsman or poacher might +discover me. If a gust of wind swept the waste, I looked up, fearing it +was the rush of a bull; if a plover whistled, I imagined it a man. +Finding my apprehensions unfounded, however, and calmed by the deep +silence that reigned as evening declined at nightfall, I took confidence. +As yet I had not thought; I had only listened, watched, dreaded; now I +regained the faculty of reflection. + +What was I to do? Where to go? Oh, intolerable questions, when I could +do nothing and go nowhere!--when a long way must yet be measured by my +weary, trembling limbs before I could reach human habitation--when cold +charity must be entreated before I could get a lodging: reluctant +sympathy importuned, almost certain repulse incurred, before my tale +could be listened to, or one of my wants relieved! + +I touched the heath: it was dry, and yet warm with the heat of the summer +day. I looked at the sky; it was pure: a kindly star twinkled just above +the chasm ridge. The dew fell, but with propitious softness; no breeze +whispered. Nature seemed to me benign and good; I thought she loved me, +outcast as I was; and I, who from man could anticipate only mistrust, +rejection, insult, clung to her with filial fondness. To-night, at +least, I would be her guest, as I was her child: my mother would lodge me +without money and without price. I had one morsel of bread yet: the +remnant of a roll I had bought in a town we passed through at noon with a +stray penny--my last coin. I saw ripe bilberries gleaming here and +there, like jet beads in the heath: I gathered a handful and ate them +with the bread. My hunger, sharp before, was, if not satisfied, appeased +by this hermit's meal. I said my evening prayers at its conclusion, and +then chose my couch. + +{I said my evening prayers: p311.jpg} + +Beside the crag the heath was very deep: when I lay down my feet were +buried in it; rising high on each side, it left only a narrow space for +the night-air to invade. I folded my shawl double, and spread it over me +for a coverlet; a low, mossy swell was my pillow. Thus lodged, I was +not, at least--at the commencement of the night, cold. + +My rest might have been blissful enough, only a sad heart broke it. It +plained of its gaping wounds, its inward bleeding, its riven chords. It +trembled for Mr. Rochester and his doom; it bemoaned him with bitter +pity; it demanded him with ceaseless longing; and, impotent as a bird +with both wings broken, it still quivered its shattered pinions in vain +attempts to seek him. + +Worn out with this torture of thought, I rose to my knees. Night was +come, and her planets were risen: a safe, still night: too serene for the +companionship of fear. We know that God is everywhere; but certainly we +feel His presence most when His works are on the grandest scale spread +before us; and it is in the unclouded night-sky, where His worlds wheel +their silent course, that we read clearest His infinitude, His +omnipotence, His omnipresence. I had risen to my knees to pray for Mr. +Rochester. Looking up, I, with tear-dimmed eyes, saw the mighty Milky- +way. Remembering what it was--what countless systems there swept space +like a soft trace of light--I felt the might and strength of God. Sure +was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that +neither earth should perish, nor one of the souls it treasured. I turned +my prayer to thanksgiving: the Source of Life was also the Saviour of +spirits. Mr. Rochester was safe; he was God's, and by God would he be +guarded. I again nestled to the breast of the hill; and ere long in +sleep forgot sorrow. + +But next day, Want came to me pale and bare. Long after the little birds +had left their nests; long after bees had come in the sweet prime of day +to gather the heath honey before the dew was dried--when the long morning +shadows were curtailed, and the sun filled earth and sky--I got up, and I +looked round me. + +What a still, hot, perfect day! What a golden desert this spreading +moor! Everywhere sunshine. I wished I could live in it and on it. I +saw a lizard run over the crag; I saw a bee busy among the sweet +bilberries. I would fain at the moment have become bee or lizard, that I +might have found fitting nutriment, permanent shelter here. But I was a +human being, and had a human being's wants: I must not linger where there +was nothing to supply them. I rose; I looked back at the bed I had left. +Hopeless of the future, I wished but this--that my Maker had that night +thought good to require my soul of me while I slept; and that this weary +frame, absolved by death from further conflict with fate, had now but to +decay quietly, and mingle in peace with the soil of this wilderness. +Life, however, was yet in my possession, with all its requirements, and +pains, and responsibilities. The burden must be carried; the want +provided for; the suffering endured; the responsibility fulfilled. I set +out. + +Whitcross regained, I followed a road which led from the sun, now fervent +and high. By no other circumstance had I will to decide my choice. I +walked a long time, and when I thought I had nearly done enough, and +might conscientiously yield to the fatigue that almost overpowered +me--might relax this forced action, and, sitting down on a stone I saw +near, submit resistlessly to the apathy that clogged heart and limb--I +heard a bell chime--a church bell. + +I turned in the direction of the sound, and there, amongst the romantic +hills, whose changes and aspect I had ceased to note an hour ago, I saw a +hamlet and a spire. All the valley at my right hand was full of pasture- +fields, and cornfields, and wood; and a glittering stream ran zig-zag +through the varied shades of green, the mellowing grain, the sombre +woodland, the clear and sunny lea. Recalled by the rumbling of wheels to +the road before me, I saw a heavily-laden waggon labouring up the hill, +and not far beyond were two cows and their drover. Human life and human +labour were near. I must struggle on: strive to live and bend to toil +like the rest. + +About two o'clock p.m. I entered the village. At the bottom of its one +street there was a little shop with some cakes of bread in the window. I +coveted a cake of bread. With that refreshment I could perhaps regain a +degree of energy: without it, it would be difficult to proceed. The wish +to have some strength and some vigour returned to me as soon as I was +amongst my fellow-beings. I felt it would be degrading to faint with +hunger on the causeway of a hamlet. Had I nothing about me I could offer +in exchange for one of these rolls? I considered. I had a small silk +handkerchief tied round my throat; I had my gloves. I could hardly tell +how men and women in extremities of destitution proceeded. I did not +know whether either of these articles would be accepted: probably they +would not; but I must try. + +I entered the shop: a woman was there. Seeing a respectably-dressed +person, a lady as she supposed, she came forward with civility. How +could she serve me? I was seized with shame: my tongue would not utter +the request I had prepared. I dared not offer her the half-worn gloves, +the creased handkerchief: besides, I felt it would be absurd. I only +begged permission to sit down a moment, as I was tired. Disappointed in +the expectation of a customer, she coolly acceded to my request. She +pointed to a seat; I sank into it. I felt sorely urged to weep; but +conscious how unseasonable such a manifestation would be, I restrained +it. Soon I asked her "if there were any dressmaker or plain-workwoman in +the village?" + +"Yes; two or three. Quite as many as there was employment for." + +I reflected. I was driven to the point now. I was brought face to face +with Necessity. I stood in the position of one without a resource, +without a friend, without a coin. I must do something. What? I must +apply somewhere. Where? + +"Did she know of any place in the neighbourhood where a servant was +wanted?" + +"Nay; she couldn't say." + +"What was the chief trade in this place? What did most of the people +do?" + +"Some were farm labourers; a good deal worked at Mr. Oliver's +needle-factory, and at the foundry." + +"Did Mr. Oliver employ women?" + +"Nay; it was men's work." + +"And what do the women do?" + +"I knawn't," was the answer. "Some does one thing, and some another. +Poor folk mun get on as they can." + +She seemed to be tired of my questions: and, indeed, what claim had I to +importune her? A neighbour or two came in; my chair was evidently +wanted. I took leave. + +I passed up the street, looking as I went at all the houses to the right +hand and to the left; but I could discover no pretext, nor see an +inducement to enter any. I rambled round the hamlet, going sometimes to +a little distance and returning again, for an hour or more. Much +exhausted, and suffering greatly now for want of food, I turned aside +into a lane and sat down under the hedge. Ere many minutes had elapsed, +I was again on my feet, however, and again searching something--a +resource, or at least an informant. A pretty little house stood at the +top of the lane, with a garden before it, exquisitely neat and +brilliantly blooming. I stopped at it. What business had I to approach +the white door or touch the glittering knocker? In what way could it +possibly be the interest of the inhabitants of that dwelling to serve me? +Yet I drew near and knocked. A mild-looking, cleanly-attired young woman +opened the door. In such a voice as might be expected from a hopeless +heart and fainting frame--a voice wretchedly low and faltering--I asked +if a servant was wanted here? + +"No," said she; "we do not keep a servant." + +"Can you tell me where I could get employment of any kind?" I continued. +"I am a stranger, without acquaintance in this place. I want some work: +no matter what." + +But it was not her business to think for me, or to seek a place for me: +besides, in her eyes, how doubtful must have appeared my character, +position, tale. She shook her head, she "was sorry she could give me no +information," and the white door closed, quite gently and civilly: but it +shut me out. If she had held it open a little longer, I believe I should +have begged a piece of bread; for I was now brought low. + +I could not bear to return to the sordid village, where, besides, no +prospect of aid was visible. I should have longed rather to deviate to a +wood I saw not far off, which appeared in its thick shade to offer +inviting shelter; but I was so sick, so weak, so gnawed with nature's +cravings, instinct kept me roaming round abodes where there was a chance +of food. Solitude would be no solitude--rest no rest--while the vulture, +hunger, thus sank beak and talons in my side. + +I drew near houses; I left them, and came back again, and again I +wandered away: always repelled by the consciousness of having no claim to +ask--no right to expect interest in my isolated lot. Meantime, the +afternoon advanced, while I thus wandered about like a lost and starving +dog. In crossing a field, I saw the church spire before me: I hastened +towards it. Near the churchyard, and in the middle of a garden, stood a +well-built though small house, which I had no doubt was the parsonage. I +remembered that strangers who arrive at a place where they have no +friends, and who want employment, sometimes apply to the clergyman for +introduction and aid. It is the clergyman's function to help--at least +with advice--those who wished to help themselves. I seemed to have +something like a right to seek counsel here. Renewing then my courage, +and gathering my feeble remains of strength, I pushed on. I reached the +house, and knocked at the kitchen-door. An old woman opened: I asked was +this the parsonage? + +"Yes." + +"Was the clergyman in?" + +"No." + +"Would he be in soon?" + +"No, he was gone from home." + +"To a distance?" + +"Not so far--happen three mile. He had been called away by the sudden +death of his father: he was at Marsh End now, and would very likely stay +there a fortnight longer." + +"Was there any lady of the house?" + +"Nay, there was naught but her, and she was housekeeper;" and of her, +reader, I could not bear to ask the relief for want of which I was +sinking; I could not yet beg; and again I crawled away. + +Once more I took off my handkerchief--once more I thought of the cakes of +bread in the little shop. Oh, for but a crust! for but one mouthful to +allay the pang of famine! Instinctively I turned my face again to the +village; I found the shop again, and I went in; and though others were +there besides the woman I ventured the request--"Would she give me a roll +for this handkerchief?" + +She looked at me with evident suspicion: "Nay, she never sold stuff i' +that way." + +Almost desperate, I asked for half a cake; she again refused. "How could +she tell where I had got the handkerchief?" she said. + +"Would she take my gloves?" + +"No! what could she do with them?" + +Reader, it is not pleasant to dwell on these details. Some say there is +enjoyment in looking back to painful experience past; but at this day I +can scarcely bear to review the times to which I allude: the moral +degradation, blent with the physical suffering, form too distressing a +recollection ever to be willingly dwelt on. I blamed none of those who +repulsed me. I felt it was what was to be expected, and what could not +be helped: an ordinary beggar is frequently an object of suspicion; a +well-dressed beggar inevitably so. To be sure, what I begged was +employment; but whose business was it to provide me with employment? Not, +certainly, that of persons who saw me then for the first time, and who +knew nothing about my character. And as to the woman who would not take +my handkerchief in exchange for her bread, why, she was right, if the +offer appeared to her sinister or the exchange unprofitable. Let me +condense now. I am sick of the subject. + +A little before dark I passed a farm-house, at the open door of which the +farmer was sitting, eating his supper of bread and cheese. I stopped and +said-- + +"Will you give me a piece of bread? for I am very hungry." He cast on me +a glance of surprise; but without answering, he cut a thick slice from +his loaf, and gave it to me. I imagine he did not think I was a beggar, +but only an eccentric sort of lady, who had taken a fancy to his brown +loaf. As soon as I was out of sight of his house, I sat down and ate it. + +I could not hope to get a lodging under a roof, and sought it in the wood +I have before alluded to. But my night was wretched, my rest broken: the +ground was damp, the air cold: besides, intruders passed near me more +than once, and I had again and again to change my quarters; no sense of +safety or tranquillity befriended me. Towards morning it rained; the +whole of the following day was wet. Do not ask me, reader, to give a +minute account of that day; as before, I sought work; as before, I was +repulsed; as before, I starved; but once did food pass my lips. At the +door of a cottage I saw a little girl about to throw a mess of cold +porridge into a pig trough. "Will you give me that?" I asked. + +{"Will you give me that?" I asked: p316.jpg} + +She stared at me. "Mother!" she exclaimed, "there is a woman wants me to +give her these porridge." + +"Well lass," replied a voice within, "give it her if she's a beggar. T' +pig doesn't want it." + +The girl emptied the stiffened mould into my hand, and I devoured it +ravenously. + +As the wet twilight deepened, I stopped in a solitary bridle-path, which +I had been pursuing an hour or more. + +"My strength is quite failing me," I said in a soliloquy. "I feel I +cannot go much farther. Shall I be an outcast again this night? While +the rain descends so, must I lay my head on the cold, drenched ground? I +fear I cannot do otherwise: for who will receive me? But it will be very +dreadful, with this feeling of hunger, faintness, chill, and this sense +of desolation--this total prostration of hope. In all likelihood, +though, I should die before morning. And why cannot I reconcile myself +to the prospect of death? Why do I struggle to retain a valueless life? +Because I know, or believe, Mr. Rochester is living: and then, to die of +want and cold is a fate to which nature cannot submit passively. Oh, +Providence! sustain me a little longer! Aid!--direct me!" + +My glazed eye wandered over the dim and misty landscape. I saw I had +strayed far from the village: it was quite out of sight. The very +cultivation surrounding it had disappeared. I had, by cross-ways and by- +paths, once more drawn near the tract of moorland; and now, only a few +fields, almost as wild and unproductive as the heath from which they were +scarcely reclaimed, lay between me and the dusky hill. + +"Well, I would rather die yonder than in a street or on a frequented +road," I reflected. "And far better that crows and ravens--if any ravens +there be in these regions--should pick my flesh from my bones, than that +they should be prisoned in a workhouse coffin and moulder in a pauper's +grave." + +To the hill, then, I turned. I reached it. It remained now only to find +a hollow where I could lie down, and feel at least hidden, if not secure. +But all the surface of the waste looked level. It showed no variation +but of tint: green, where rush and moss overgrew the marshes; black, +where the dry soil bore only heath. Dark as it was getting, I could +still see these changes, though but as mere alternations of light and +shade; for colour had faded with the daylight. + +My eye still roved over the sullen swell and along the moor-edge, +vanishing amidst the wildest scenery, when at one dim point, far in among +the marshes and the ridges, a light sprang up. "That is an _ignis +fatuus_," was my first thought; and I expected it would soon vanish. It +burnt on, however, quite steadily, neither receding nor advancing. "Is +it, then, a bonfire just kindled?" I questioned. I watched to see +whether it would spread: but no; as it did not diminish, so it did not +enlarge. "It may be a candle in a house," I then conjectured; "but if +so, I can never reach it. It is much too far away: and were it within a +yard of me, what would it avail? I should but knock at the door to have +it shut in my face." + +And I sank down where I stood, and hid my face against the ground. I lay +still a while: the night-wind swept over the hill and over me, and died +moaning in the distance; the rain fell fast, wetting me afresh to the +skin. Could I but have stiffened to the still frost--the friendly +numbness of death--it might have pelted on; I should not have felt it; +but my yet living flesh shuddered at its chilling influence. I rose ere +long. + +The light was yet there, shining dim but constant through the rain. I +tried to walk again: I dragged my exhausted limbs slowly towards it. It +led me aslant over the hill, through a wide bog, which would have been +impassable in winter, and was splashy and shaking even now, in the height +of summer. Here I fell twice; but as often I rose and rallied my +faculties. This light was my forlorn hope: I must gain it. + +Having crossed the marsh, I saw a trace of white over the moor. I +approached it; it was a road or a track: it led straight up to the light, +which now beamed from a sort of knoll, amidst a clump of trees--firs, +apparently, from what I could distinguish of the character of their forms +and foliage through the gloom. My star vanished as I drew near: some +obstacle had intervened between me and it. I put out my hand to feel the +dark mass before me: I discriminated the rough stones of a low wall--above +it, something like palisades, and within, a high and prickly hedge. I +groped on. Again a whitish object gleamed before me: it was a gate--a +wicket; it moved on its hinges as I touched it. On each side stood a +sable bush-holly or yew. + +Entering the gate and passing the shrubs, the silhouette of a house rose +to view, black, low, and rather long; but the guiding light shone +nowhere. All was obscurity. Were the inmates retired to rest? I feared +it must be so. In seeking the door, I turned an angle: there shot out +the friendly gleam again, from the lozenged panes of a very small +latticed window, within a foot of the ground, made still smaller by the +growth of ivy or some other creeping plant, whose leaves clustered thick +over the portion of the house wall in which it was set. The aperture was +so screened and narrow, that curtain or shutter had been deemed +unnecessary; and when I stooped down and put aside the spray of foliage +shooting over it, I could see all within. I could see clearly a room +with a sanded floor, clean scoured; a dresser of walnut, with pewter +plates ranged in rows, reflecting the redness and radiance of a glowing +peat-fire. I could see a clock, a white deal table, some chairs. The +candle, whose ray had been my beacon, burnt on the table; and by its +light an elderly woman, somewhat rough-looking, but scrupulously clean, +like all about her, was knitting a stocking. + +I noticed these objects cursorily only--in them there was nothing +extraordinary. A group of more interest appeared near the hearth, +sitting still amidst the rosy peace and warmth suffusing it. Two young, +graceful women--ladies in every point--sat, one in a low rocking-chair, +the other on a lower stool; both wore deep mourning of crape and +bombazeen, which sombre garb singularly set off very fair necks and +faces: a large old pointer dog rested its massive head on the knee of one +girl--in the lap of the other was cushioned a black cat. + +A strange place was this humble kitchen for such occupants! Who were +they? They could not be the daughters of the elderly person at the +table; for she looked like a rustic, and they were all delicacy and +cultivation. I had nowhere seen such faces as theirs: and yet, as I +gazed on them, I seemed intimate with every lineament. I cannot call +them handsome--they were too pale and grave for the word: as they each +bent over a book, they looked thoughtful almost to severity. A stand +between them supported a second candle and two great volumes, to which +they frequently referred, comparing them, seemingly, with the smaller +books they held in their hands, like people consulting a dictionary to +aid them in the task of translation. This scene was as silent as if all +the figures had been shadows and the firelit apartment a picture: so +hushed was it, I could hear the cinders fall from the grate, the clock +tick in its obscure corner; and I even fancied I could distinguish the +click-click of the woman's knitting-needles. When, therefore, a voice +broke the strange stillness at last, it was audible enough to me. + +"Listen, Diana," said one of the absorbed students; "Franz and old Daniel +are together in the night-time, and Franz is telling a dream from which +he has awakened in terror--listen!" And in a low voice she read +something, of which not one word was intelligible to me; for it was in an +unknown tongue--neither French nor Latin. Whether it were Greek or +German I could not tell. + +"That is strong," she said, when she had finished: "I relish it." The +other girl, who had lifted her head to listen to her sister, repeated, +while she gazed at the fire, a line of what had been read. At a later +day, I knew the language and the book; therefore, I will here quote the +line: though, when I first heard it, it was only like a stroke on +sounding brass to me--conveying no meaning:-- + +"'Da trat hervor Einer, anzusehen wie die Sternen Nacht.' Good! good!" +she exclaimed, while her dark and deep eye sparkled. "There you have a +dim and mighty archangel fitly set before you! The line is worth a +hundred pages of fustian. 'Ich wage die Gedanken in der Schale meines +Zornes und die Werke mit dem Gewichte meines Grimms.' I like it!" + +Both were again silent. + +"Is there ony country where they talk i' that way?" asked the old woman, +looking up from her knitting. + +"Yes, Hannah--a far larger country than England, where they talk in no +other way." + +"Well, for sure case, I knawn't how they can understand t' one t'other: +and if either o' ye went there, ye could tell what they said, I guess?" + +"We could probably tell something of what they said, but not all--for we +are not as clever as you think us, Hannah. We don't speak German, and we +cannot read it without a dictionary to help us." + +"And what good does it do you?" + +"We mean to teach it some time--or at least the elements, as they say; +and then we shall get more money than we do now." + +"Varry like: but give ower studying; ye've done enough for to-night." + +"I think we have: at least I'm tired. Mary, are you?" + +"Mortally: after all, it's tough work fagging away at a language with no +master but a lexicon." + +"It is, especially such a language as this crabbed but glorious Deutsch. +I wonder when St. John will come home." + +"Surely he will not be long now: it is just ten (looking at a little gold +watch she drew from her girdle). It rains fast, Hannah: will you have +the goodness to look at the fire in the parlour?" + +The woman rose: she opened a door, through which I dimly saw a passage: +soon I heard her stir a fire in an inner room; she presently came back. + +"Ah, childer!" said she, "it fair troubles me to go into yond' room now: +it looks so lonesome wi' the chair empty and set back in a corner." + +She wiped her eyes with her apron: the two girls, grave before, looked +sad now. + +"But he is in a better place," continued Hannah: "we shouldn't wish him +here again. And then, nobody need to have a quieter death nor he had." + +"You say he never mentioned us?" inquired one of the ladies. + +"He hadn't time, bairn: he was gone in a minute, was your father. He had +been a bit ailing like the day before, but naught to signify; and when +Mr. St. John asked if he would like either o' ye to be sent for, he fair +laughed at him. He began again with a bit of a heaviness in his head the +next day--that is, a fortnight sin'--and he went to sleep and niver +wakened: he wor a'most stark when your brother went into t' chamber and +fand him. Ah, childer! that's t' last o' t' old stock--for ye and Mr. +St. John is like of different soart to them 'at's gone; for all your +mother wor mich i' your way, and a'most as book-learned. She wor the +pictur' o' ye, Mary: Diana is more like your father." + +I thought them so similar I could not tell where the old servant (for +such I now concluded her to be) saw the difference. Both were fair +complexioned and slenderly made; both possessed faces full of distinction +and intelligence. One, to be sure, had hair a shade darker than the +other, and there was a difference in their style of wearing it; Mary's +pale brown locks were parted and braided smooth: Diana's duskier tresses +covered her neck with thick curls. The clock struck ten. + +"Ye'll want your supper, I am sure," observed Hannah; "and so will Mr. +St. John when he comes in." + +And she proceeded to prepare the meal. The ladies rose; they seemed +about to withdraw to the parlour. Till this moment, I had been so intent +on watching them, their appearance and conversation had excited in me so +keen an interest, I had half-forgotten my own wretched position: now it +recurred to me. More desolate, more desperate than ever, it seemed from +contrast. And how impossible did it appear to touch the inmates of this +house with concern on my behalf; to make them believe in the truth of my +wants and woes--to induce them to vouchsafe a rest for my wanderings! As +I groped out the door, and knocked at it hesitatingly, I felt that last +idea to be a mere chimera. Hannah opened. + +"What do you want?" she inquired, in a voice of surprise, as she surveyed +me by the light of the candle she held. + +"May I speak to your mistresses?" I said. + +"You had better tell me what you have to say to them. Where do you come +from?" + +"I am a stranger." + +"What is your business here at this hour?" + +"I want a night's shelter in an out-house or anywhere, and a morsel of +bread to eat." + +Distrust, the very feeling I dreaded, appeared in Hannah's face. "I'll +give you a piece of bread," she said, after a pause; "but we can't take +in a vagrant to lodge. It isn't likely." + +"Do let me speak to your mistresses." + +"No, not I. What can they do for you? You should not be roving about +now; it looks very ill." + +"But where shall I go if you drive me away? What shall I do?" + +"Oh, I'll warrant you know where to go and what to do. Mind you don't do +wrong, that's all. Here is a penny; now go--" + +"A penny cannot feed me, and I have no strength to go farther. Don't +shut the door:--oh, don't, for God's sake!" + +"I must; the rain is driving in--" + +"Tell the young ladies. Let me see them--" + +"Indeed, I will not. You are not what you ought to be, or you wouldn't +make such a noise. Move off." + +"But I must die if I am turned away." + +"Not you. I'm fear'd you have some ill plans agate, that bring you about +folk's houses at this time o' night. If you've any +followers--housebreakers or such like--anywhere near, you may tell them +we are not by ourselves in the house; we have a gentleman, and dogs, and +guns." Here the honest but inflexible servant clapped the door to and +bolted it within. + +This was the climax. A pang of exquisite suffering--a throe of true +despair--rent and heaved my heart. Worn out, indeed, I was; not another +step could I stir. I sank on the wet doorstep: I groaned--I wrung my +hands--I wept in utter anguish. Oh, this spectre of death! Oh, this +last hour, approaching in such horror! Alas, this isolation--this +banishment from my kind! Not only the anchor of hope, but the footing of +fortitude was gone--at least for a moment; but the last I soon +endeavoured to regain. + +"I can but die," I said, "and I believe in God. Let me try to wait His +will in silence." + +These words I not only thought, but uttered; and thrusting back all my +misery into my heart, I made an effort to compel it to remain there--dumb +and still. + +"All men must die," said a voice quite close at hand; "but all are not +condemned to meet a lingering and premature doom, such as yours would be +if you perished here of want." + +"Who or what speaks?" I asked, terrified at the unexpected sound, and +incapable now of deriving from any occurrence a hope of aid. A form was +near--what form, the pitch-dark night and my enfeebled vision prevented +me from distinguishing. With a loud long knock, the new-comer appealed +to the door. + +"Is it you, Mr. St. John?" cried Hannah. + +"Yes--yes; open quickly." + +"Well, how wet and cold you must be, such a wild night as it is! Come +in--your sisters are quite uneasy about you, and I believe there are bad +folks about. There has been a beggar-woman--I declare she is not gone +yet!--laid down there. Get up! for shame! Move off, I say!" + +"Hush, Hannah! I have a word to say to the woman. You have done your +duty in excluding, now let me do mine in admitting her. I was near, and +listened to both you and her. I think this is a peculiar case--I must at +least examine into it. Young woman, rise, and pass before me into the +house." + +{Hush, Hannah; I have a word to say to the woman: p323.jpg} + +With difficulty I obeyed him. Presently I stood within that clean, +bright kitchen--on the very hearth--trembling, sickening; conscious of an +aspect in the last degree ghastly, wild, and weather-beaten. The two +ladies, their brother, Mr. St. John, the old servant, were all gazing at +me. + +"St. John, who is it?" I heard one ask. + +"I cannot tell: I found her at the door," was the reply. + +"She does look white," said Hannah. + +"As white as clay or death," was responded. "She will fall: let her +sit." + +And indeed my head swam: I dropped, but a chair received me. I still +possessed my senses, though just now I could not speak. + +"Perhaps a little water would restore her. Hannah, fetch some. But she +is worn to nothing. How very thin, and how very bloodless!" + +"A mere spectre!" + +"Is she ill, or only famished?" + +"Famished, I think. Hannah, is that milk? Give it me, and a piece of +bread." + +Diana (I knew her by the long curls which I saw drooping between me and +the fire as she bent over me) broke some bread, dipped it in milk, and +put it to my lips. Her face was near mine: I saw there was pity in it, +and I felt sympathy in her hurried breathing. In her simple words, too, +the same balm-like emotion spoke: "Try to eat." + +"Yes--try," repeated Mary gently; and Mary's hand removed my sodden +bonnet and lifted my head. I tasted what they offered me: feebly at +first, eagerly soon. + +"Not too much at first--restrain her," said the brother; "she has had +enough." And he withdrew the cup of milk and the plate of bread. + +"A little more, St. John--look at the avidity in her eyes." + +"No more at present, sister. Try if she can speak now--ask her her +name." + +I felt I could speak, and I answered--"My name is Jane Elliott." Anxious +as ever to avoid discovery, I had before resolved to assume an _alias_. + +"And where do you live? Where are your friends?" + +I was silent. + +"Can we send for any one you know?" + +I shook my head. + +"What account can you give of yourself?" + +Somehow, now that I had once crossed the threshold of this house, and +once was brought face to face with its owners, I felt no longer outcast, +vagrant, and disowned by the wide world. I dared to put off the +mendicant--to resume my natural manner and character. I began once more +to know myself; and when Mr. St. John demanded an account--which at +present I was far too weak to render--I said after a brief pause-- + +"Sir, I can give you no details to-night." + +"But what, then," said he, "do you expect me to do for you?" + +"Nothing," I replied. My strength sufficed for but short answers. Diana +took the word-- + +"Do you mean," she asked, "that we have now given you what aid you +require? and that we may dismiss you to the moor and the rainy night?" + +I looked at her. She had, I thought, a remarkable countenance, instinct +both with power and goodness. I took sudden courage. Answering her +compassionate gaze with a smile, I said--"I will trust you. If I were a +masterless and stray dog, I know that you would not turn me from your +hearth to-night: as it is, I really have no fear. Do with me and for me +as you like; but excuse me from much discourse--my breath is short--I +feel a spasm when I speak." All three surveyed me, and all three were +silent. + +"Hannah," said Mr. St. John, at last, "let her sit there at present, and +ask her no questions; in ten minutes more, give her the remainder of that +milk and bread. Mary and Diana, let us go into the parlour and talk the +matter over." + +They withdrew. Very soon one of the ladies returned--I could not tell +which. A kind of pleasant stupor was stealing over me as I sat by the +genial fire. In an undertone she gave some directions to Hannah. Ere +long, with the servant's aid, I contrived to mount a staircase; my +dripping clothes were removed; soon a warm, dry bed received me. I +thanked God--experienced amidst unutterable exhaustion a glow of grateful +joy--and slept. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +The recollection of about three days and nights succeeding this is very +dim in my mind. I can recall some sensations felt in that interval; but +few thoughts framed, and no actions performed. I knew I was in a small +room and in a narrow bed. To that bed I seemed to have grown; I lay on +it motionless as a stone; and to have torn me from it would have been +almost to kill me. I took no note of the lapse of time--of the change +from morning to noon, from noon to evening. I observed when any one +entered or left the apartment: I could even tell who they were; I could +understand what was said when the speaker stood near to me; but I could +not answer; to open my lips or move my limbs was equally impossible. +Hannah, the servant, was my most frequent visitor. Her coming disturbed +me. I had a feeling that she wished me away: that she did not understand +me or my circumstances; that she was prejudiced against me. Diana and +Mary appeared in the chamber once or twice a day. They would whisper +sentences of this sort at my bedside-- + +"It is very well we took her in." + +"Yes; she would certainly have been found dead at the door in the morning +had she been left out all night. I wonder what she has gone through?" + +"Strange hardships, I imagine--poor, emaciated, pallid wanderer?" + +"She is not an uneducated person, I should think, by her manner of +speaking; her accent was quite pure; and the clothes she took off, though +splashed and wet, were little worn and fine." + +"She has a peculiar face; fleshless and haggard as it is, I rather like +it; and when in good health and animated, I can fancy her physiognomy +would be agreeable." + +Never once in their dialogues did I hear a syllable of regret at the +hospitality they had extended to me, or of suspicion of, or aversion to, +myself. I was comforted. + +Mr. St. John came but once: he looked at me, and said my state of +lethargy was the result of reaction from excessive and protracted +fatigue. He pronounced it needless to send for a doctor: nature, he was +sure, would manage best, left to herself. He said every nerve had been +overstrained in some way, and the whole system must sleep torpid a while. +There was no disease. He imagined my recovery would be rapid enough when +once commenced. These opinions he delivered in a few words, in a quiet, +low voice; and added, after a pause, in the tone of a man little +accustomed to expansive comment, "Rather an unusual physiognomy; +certainly, not indicative of vulgarity or degradation." + +"Far otherwise," responded Diana. "To speak truth, St. John, my heart +rather warms to the poor little soul. I wish we may be able to benefit +her permanently." + +"That is hardly likely," was the reply. "You will find she is some young +lady who has had a misunderstanding with her friends, and has probably +injudiciously left them. We may, perhaps, succeed in restoring her to +them, if she is not obstinate: but I trace lines of force in her face +which make me sceptical of her tractability." He stood considering me +some minutes; then added, "She looks sensible, but not at all handsome." + +"She is so ill, St. John." + +"Ill or well, she would always be plain. The grace and harmony of beauty +are quite wanting in those features." + +On the third day I was better; on the fourth, I could speak, move, rise +in bed, and turn. Hannah had brought me some gruel and dry toast, about, +as I supposed, the dinner-hour. I had eaten with relish: the food was +good--void of the feverish flavour which had hitherto poisoned what I had +swallowed. When she left me, I felt comparatively strong and revived: +ere long satiety of repose and desire for action stirred me. I wished to +rise; but what could I put on? Only my damp and bemired apparel; in +which I had slept on the ground and fallen in the marsh. I felt ashamed +to appear before my benefactors so clad. I was spared the humiliation. + +On a chair by the bedside were all my own things, clean and dry. My +black silk frock hung against the wall. The traces of the bog were +removed from it; the creases left by the wet smoothed out: it was quite +decent. My very shoes and stockings were purified and rendered +presentable. There were the means of washing in the room, and a comb and +brush to smooth my hair. After a weary process, and resting every five +minutes, I succeeded in dressing myself. My clothes hung loose on me; +for I was much wasted, but I covered deficiencies with a shawl, and once +more, clean and respectable looking--no speck of the dirt, no trace of +the disorder I so hated, and which seemed so to degrade me, left--I crept +down a stone staircase with the aid of the banisters, to a narrow low +passage, and found my way presently to the kitchen. + +It was full of the fragrance of new bread and the warmth of a generous +fire. Hannah was baking. Prejudices, it is well known, are most +difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened +or fertilised by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones. +Hannah had been cold and stiff, indeed, at the first: latterly she had +begun to relent a little; and when she saw me come in tidy and +well-dressed, she even smiled. + +"What, you have got up!" she said. "You are better, then. You may sit +you down in my chair on the hearthstone, if you will." + +She pointed to the rocking-chair: I took it. She bustled about, +examining me every now and then with the corner of her eye. Turning to +me, as she took some loaves from the oven, she asked bluntly-- + +"Did you ever go a-begging afore you came here?" + +I was indignant for a moment; but remembering that anger was out of the +question, and that I had indeed appeared as a beggar to her, I answered +quietly, but still not without a certain marked firmness-- + +"You are mistaken in supposing me a beggar. I am no beggar; any more +than yourself or your young ladies." + +After a pause she said, "I dunnut understand that: you've like no house, +nor no brass, I guess?" + +"The want of house or brass (by which I suppose you mean money) does not +make a beggar in your sense of the word." + +"Are you book-learned?" she inquired presently. + +"Yes, very." + +"But you've never been to a boarding-school?" + +"I was at a boarding-school eight years." + +She opened her eyes wide. "Whatever cannot ye keep yourself for, then?" + +"I have kept myself; and, I trust, shall keep myself again. What are you +going to do with these gooseberries?" I inquired, as she brought out a +basket of the fruit. + +"Mak' 'em into pies." + +"Give them to me and I'll pick them." + +"Nay; I dunnut want ye to do nought." + +"But I must do something. Let me have them." + +She consented; and she even brought me a clean towel to spread over my +dress, "lest," as she said, "I should mucky it." + +"Ye've not been used to sarvant's wark, I see by your hands," she +remarked. "Happen ye've been a dressmaker?" + +"No, you are wrong. And now, never mind what I have been: don't trouble +your head further about me; but tell me the name of the house where we +are." + +"Some calls it Marsh End, and some calls it Moor House." + +"And the gentleman who lives here is called Mr. St. John?" + +"Nay; he doesn't live here: he is only staying a while. When he is at +home, he is in his own parish at Morton." + +"That village a few miles off? + +"Aye." + +"And what is he?" + +"He is a parson." + +I remembered the answer of the old housekeeper at the parsonage, when I +had asked to see the clergyman. "This, then, was his father's +residence?" + +"Aye; old Mr. Rivers lived here, and his father, and grandfather, and +gurt (great) grandfather afore him." + +"The name, then, of that gentleman, is Mr. St. John Rivers?" + +"Aye; St. John is like his kirstened name." + +"And his sisters are called Diana and Mary Rivers?" + +"Yes." + +"Their father is dead?" + +"Dead three weeks sin' of a stroke." + +"They have no mother?" + +"The mistress has been dead this mony a year." + +"Have you lived with the family long?" + +"I've lived here thirty year. I nursed them all three." + +"That proves you must have been an honest and faithful servant. I will +say so much for you, though you have had the incivility to call me a +beggar." + +She again regarded me with a surprised stare. "I believe," she said, "I +was quite mista'en in my thoughts of you: but there is so mony cheats +goes about, you mun forgie me." + +"And though," I continued, rather severely, "you wished to turn me from +the door, on a night when you should not have shut out a dog." + +"Well, it was hard: but what can a body do? I thought more o' th' +childer nor of mysel: poor things! They've like nobody to tak' care on +'em but me. I'm like to look sharpish." + +I maintained a grave silence for some minutes. + +"You munnut think too hardly of me," she again remarked. + +"But I do think hardly of you," I said; "and I'll tell you why--not so +much because you refused to give me shelter, or regarded me as an +impostor, as because you just now made it a species of reproach that I +had no 'brass' and no house. Some of the best people that ever lived +have been as destitute as I am; and if you are a Christian, you ought not +to consider poverty a crime." + +"No more I ought," said she: "Mr. St. John tells me so too; and I see I +wor wrang--but I've clear a different notion on you now to what I had. +You look a raight down dacent little crater." + +"That will do--I forgive you now. Shake hands." + +She put her floury and horny hand into mine; another and heartier smile +illumined her rough face, and from that moment we were friends. + +Hannah was evidently fond of talking. While I picked the fruit, and she +made the paste for the pies, she proceeded to give me sundry details +about her deceased master and mistress, and "the childer," as she called +the young people. + +Old Mr. Rivers, she said, was a plain man enough, but a gentleman, and of +as ancient a family as could be found. Marsh End had belonged to the +Rivers ever since it was a house: and it was, she affirmed, "aboon two +hundred year old--for all it looked but a small, humble place, naught to +compare wi' Mr. Oliver's grand hall down i' Morton Vale. But she could +remember Bill Oliver's father a journeyman needlemaker; and th' Rivers +wor gentry i' th' owd days o' th' Henrys, as onybody might see by looking +into th' registers i' Morton Church vestry." Still, she allowed, "the +owd maister was like other folk--naught mich out o' t' common way: stark +mad o' shooting, and farming, and sich like." The mistress was +different. She was a great reader, and studied a deal; and the "bairns" +had taken after her. There was nothing like them in these parts, nor +ever had been; they had liked learning, all three, almost from the time +they could speak; and they had always been "of a mak' of their own." Mr. +St. John, when he grew up, would go to college and be a parson; and the +girls, as soon as they left school, would seek places as governesses: for +they had told her their father had some years ago lost a great deal of +money by a man he had trusted turning bankrupt; and as he was now not +rich enough to give them fortunes, they must provide for themselves. They +had lived very little at home for a long while, and were only come now to +stay a few weeks on account of their father's death; but they did so like +Marsh End and Morton, and all these moors and hills about. They had been +in London, and many other grand towns; but they always said there was no +place like home; and then they were so agreeable with each other--never +fell out nor "threaped." She did not know where there was such a family +for being united. + +Having finished my task of gooseberry picking, I asked where the two +ladies and their brother were now. + +"Gone over to Morton for a walk; but they would be back in half-an-hour +to tea." + +They returned within the time Hannah had allotted them: they entered by +the kitchen door. Mr. St. John, when he saw me, merely bowed and passed +through; the two ladies stopped: Mary, in a few words, kindly and calmly +expressed the pleasure she felt in seeing me well enough to be able to +come down; Diana took my hand: she shook her head at me. + +"You should have waited for my leave to descend," she said. "You still +look very pale--and so thin! Poor child!--poor girl!" + +Diana had a voice toned, to my ear, like the cooing of a dove. She +possessed eyes whose gaze I delighted to encounter. Her whole face +seemed to me full of charm. Mary's countenance was equally +intelligent--her features equally pretty; but her expression was more +reserved, and her manners, though gentle, more distant. Diana looked and +spoke with a certain authority: she had a will, evidently. It was my +nature to feel pleasure in yielding to an authority supported like hers, +and to bend, where my conscience and self-respect permitted, to an active +will. + +"And what business have you here?" she continued. "It is not your place. +Mary and I sit in the kitchen sometimes, because at home we like to be +free, even to license--but you are a visitor, and must go into the +parlour." + +"I am very well here." + +"Not at all, with Hannah bustling about and covering you with flour." + +"Besides, the fire is too hot for you," interposed Mary. + +"To be sure," added her sister. "Come, you must be obedient." And still +holding my hand she made me rise, and led me into the inner room. + +"Sit there," she said, placing me on the sofa, "while we take our things +off and get the tea ready; it is another privilege we exercise in our +little moorland home--to prepare our own meals when we are so inclined, +or when Hannah is baking, brewing, washing, or ironing." + +She closed the door, leaving me solus with Mr. St. John, who sat +opposite, a book or newspaper in his hand. I examined first, the +parlour, and then its occupant. + +The parlour was rather a small room, very plainly furnished, yet +comfortable, because clean and neat. The old-fashioned chairs were very +bright, and the walnut-wood table was like a looking-glass. A few +strange, antique portraits of the men and women of other days decorated +the stained walls; a cupboard with glass doors contained some books and +an ancient set of china. There was no superfluous ornament in the +room--not one modern piece of furniture, save a brace of workboxes and a +lady's desk in rosewood, which stood on a side-table: +everything--including the carpet and curtains--looked at once well worn +and well saved. + +Mr. St. John--sitting as still as one of the dusty pictures on the walls, +keeping his eyes fixed on the page he perused, and his lips mutely +sealed--was easy enough to examine. Had he been a statue instead of a +man, he could not have been easier. He was young--perhaps from twenty- +eight to thirty--tall, slender; his face riveted the eye; it was like a +Greek face, very pure in outline: quite a straight, classic nose; quite +an Athenian mouth and chin. It is seldom, indeed, an English face comes +so near the antique models as did his. He might well be a little shocked +at the irregularity of my lineaments, his own being so harmonious. His +eyes were large and blue, with brown lashes; his high forehead, +colourless as ivory, was partially streaked over by careless locks of +fair hair. + +This is a gentle delineation, is it not, reader? Yet he whom it +describes scarcely impressed one with the idea of a gentle, a yielding, +an impressible, or even of a placid nature. Quiescent as he now sat, +there was something about his nostril, his mouth, his brow, which, to my +perceptions, indicated elements within either restless, or hard, or +eager. He did not speak to me one word, nor even direct to me one +glance, till his sisters returned. Diana, as she passed in and out, in +the course of preparing tea, brought me a little cake, baked on the top +of the oven. + +"Eat that now," she said: "you must be hungry. Hannah says you have had +nothing but some gruel since breakfast." + +I did not refuse it, for my appetite was awakened and keen. Mr. Rivers +now closed his book, approached the table, and, as he took a seat, fixed +his blue pictorial-looking eyes full on me. There was an unceremonious +directness, a searching, decided steadfastness in his gaze now, which +told that intention, and not diffidence, had hitherto kept it averted +from the stranger. + +"You are very hungry," he said. + +"I am, sir." It is my way--it always was my way, by instinct--ever to +meet the brief with brevity, the direct with plainness. + +"It is well for you that a low fever has forced you to abstain for the +last three days: there would have been danger in yielding to the cravings +of your appetite at first. Now you may eat, though still not +immoderately." + +"I trust I shall not eat long at your expense, sir," was my very clumsily- +contrived, unpolished answer. + +"No," he said coolly: "when you have indicated to us the residence of +your friends, we can write to them, and you may be restored to home." + +"That, I must plainly tell you, is out of my power to do; being +absolutely without home and friends." + +The three looked at me, but not distrustfully; I felt there was no +suspicion in their glances: there was more of curiosity. I speak +particularly of the young ladies. St. John's eyes, though clear enough +in a literal sense, in a figurative one were difficult to fathom. He +seemed to use them rather as instruments to search other people's +thoughts, than as agents to reveal his own: the which combination of +keenness and reserve was considerably more calculated to embarrass than +to encourage. + +"Do you mean to say," he asked, "that you are completely isolated from +every connection?" + +"I do. Not a tie links me to any living thing: not a claim do I possess +to admittance under any roof in England." + +"A most singular position at your age!" + +Here I saw his glance directed to my hands, which were folded on the +table before me. I wondered what he sought there: his words soon +explained the quest. + +"You have never been married? You are a spinster?" + +Diana laughed. "Why, she can't be above seventeen or eighteen years old, +St. John," said she. + +"I am near nineteen: but I am not married. No." + +I felt a burning glow mount to my face; for bitter and agitating +recollections were awakened by the allusion to marriage. They all saw +the embarrassment and the emotion. Diana and Mary relieved me by turning +their eyes elsewhere than to my crimsoned visage; but the colder and +sterner brother continued to gaze, till the trouble he had excited forced +out tears as well as colour. + +"Where did you last reside?" he now asked. + +"You are too inquisitive, St. John," murmured Mary in a low voice; but he +leaned over the table and required an answer by a second firm and +piercing look. + +"The name of the place where, and of the person with whom I lived, is my +secret," I replied concisely. + +"Which, if you like, you have, in my opinion, a right to keep, both from +St. John and every other questioner," remarked Diana. + +"Yet if I know nothing about you or your history, I cannot help you," he +said. "And you need help, do you not?" + +"I need it, and I seek it so far, sir, that some true philanthropist will +put me in the way of getting work which I can do, and the remuneration +for which will keep me, if but in the barest necessaries of life." + +"I know not whether I am a true philanthropist; yet I am willing to aid +you to the utmost of my power in a purpose so honest. First, then, tell +me what you have been accustomed to do, and what you _can_ do." + +I had now swallowed my tea. I was mightily refreshed by the beverage; as +much so as a giant with wine: it gave new tone to my unstrung nerves, and +enabled me to address this penetrating young judge steadily. + +"Mr. Rivers," I said, turning to him, and looking at him, as he looked at +me, openly and without diffidence, "you and your sisters have done me a +great service--the greatest man can do his fellow-being; you have rescued +me, by your noble hospitality, from death. This benefit conferred gives +you an unlimited claim on my gratitude, and a claim, to a certain extent, +on my confidence. I will tell you as much of the history of the wanderer +you have harboured, as I can tell without compromising my own peace of +mind--my own security, moral and physical, and that of others. + +"I am an orphan, the daughter of a clergyman. My parents died before I +could know them. I was brought up a dependant; educated in a charitable +institution. I will even tell you the name of the establishment, where I +passed six years as a pupil, and two as a teacher--Lowood Orphan Asylum, +---shire: you will have heard of it, Mr. Rivers?--the Rev. Robert +Brocklehurst is the treasurer." + +"I have heard of Mr. Brocklehurst, and I have seen the school." + +"I left Lowood nearly a year since to become a private governess. I +obtained a good situation, and was happy. This place I was obliged to +leave four days before I came here. The reason of my departure I cannot +and ought not to explain: it would be useless, dangerous, and would sound +incredible. No blame attached to me: I am as free from culpability as +any one of you three. Miserable I am, and must be for a time; for the +catastrophe which drove me from a house I had found a paradise was of a +strange and direful nature. I observed but two points in planning my +departure--speed, secrecy: to secure these, I had to leave behind me +everything I possessed except a small parcel; which, in my hurry and +trouble of mind, I forgot to take out of the coach that brought me to +Whitcross. To this neighbourhood, then, I came, quite destitute. I +slept two nights in the open air, and wandered about two days without +crossing a threshold: but twice in that space of time did I taste food; +and it was when brought by hunger, exhaustion, and despair almost to the +last gasp, that you, Mr. Rivers, forbade me to perish of want at your +door, and took me under the shelter of your roof. I know all your +sisters have done for me since--for I have not been insensible during my +seeming torpor--and I owe to their spontaneous, genuine, genial +compassion as large a debt as to your evangelical charity." + +"Don't make her talk any more now, St. John," said Diana, as I paused; +"she is evidently not yet fit for excitement. Come to the sofa and sit +down now, Miss Elliott." + +I gave an involuntary half start at hearing the _alias_: I had forgotten +my new name. Mr. Rivers, whom nothing seemed to escape, noticed it at +once. + +"You said your name was Jane Elliott?" he observed. + +"I did say so; and it is the name by which I think it expedient to be +called at present, but it is not my real name, and when I hear it, it +sounds strange to me." + +"Your real name you will not give?" + +"No: I fear discovery above all things; and whatever disclosure would +lead to it, I avoid." + +"You are quite right, I am sure," said Diana. "Now do, brother, let her +be at peace a while." + +But when St. John had mused a few moments he recommenced as imperturbably +and with as much acumen as ever. + +"You would not like to be long dependent on our hospitality--you would +wish, I see, to dispense as soon as may be with my sisters' compassion, +and, above all, with my _charity_ (I am quite sensible of the distinction +drawn, nor do I resent it--it is just): you desire to be independent of +us?" + +"I do: I have already said so. Show me how to work, or how to seek work: +that is all I now ask; then let me go, if it be but to the meanest +cottage; but till then, allow me to stay here: I dread another essay of +the horrors of homeless destitution." + +"Indeed you _shall_ stay here," said Diana, putting her white hand on my +head. "You _shall_," repeated Mary, in the tone of undemonstrative +sincerity which seemed natural to her. + +"My sisters, you see, have a pleasure in keeping you," said Mr. St. John, +"as they would have a pleasure in keeping and cherishing a half-frozen +bird, some wintry wind might have driven through their casement. I feel +more inclination to put you in the way of keeping yourself, and shall +endeavour to do so; but observe, my sphere is narrow. I am but the +incumbent of a poor country parish: my aid must be of the humblest sort. +And if you are inclined to despise the day of small things, seek some +more efficient succour than such as I can offer." + +"She has already said that she is willing to do anything honest she can +do," answered Diana for me; "and you know, St. John, she has no choice of +helpers: she is forced to put up with such crusty people as you." + +"I will be a dressmaker; I will be a plain-workwoman; I will be a +servant, a nurse-girl, if I can be no better," I answered. + +"Right," said Mr. St. John, quite coolly. "If such is your spirit, I +promise to aid you, in my own time and way." + +He now resumed the book with which he had been occupied before tea. I +soon withdrew, for I had talked as much, and sat up as long, as my +present strength would permit. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + +The more I knew of the inmates of Moor House, the better I liked them. In +a few days I had so far recovered my health that I could sit up all day, +and walk out sometimes. I could join with Diana and Mary in all their +occupations; converse with them as much as they wished, and aid them when +and where they would allow me. There was a reviving pleasure in this +intercourse, of a kind now tasted by me for the first time--the pleasure +arising from perfect congeniality of tastes, sentiments, and principles. + +I liked to read what they liked to read: what they enjoyed, delighted me; +what they approved, I reverenced. They loved their sequestered home. I, +too, in the grey, small, antique structure, with its low roof, its +latticed casements, its mouldering walls, its avenue of aged firs--all +grown aslant under the stress of mountain winds; its garden, dark with +yew and holly--and where no flowers but of the hardiest species would +bloom--found a charm both potent and permanent. They clung to the purple +moors behind and around their dwelling--to the hollow vale into which the +pebbly bridle-path leading from their gate descended, and which wound +between fern-banks first, and then amongst a few of the wildest little +pasture-fields that ever bordered a wilderness of heath, or gave +sustenance to a flock of grey moorland sheep, with their little mossy- +faced lambs:--they clung to this scene, I say, with a perfect enthusiasm +of attachment. I could comprehend the feeling, and share both its +strength and truth. I saw the fascination of the locality. I felt the +consecration of its loneliness: my eye feasted on the outline of swell +and sweep--on the wild colouring communicated to ridge and dell by moss, +by heath-bell, by flower-sprinkled turf, by brilliant bracken, and mellow +granite crag. These details were just to me what they were to them--so +many pure and sweet sources of pleasure. The strong blast and the soft +breeze; the rough and the halcyon day; the hours of sunrise and sunset; +the moonlight and the clouded night, developed for me, in these regions, +the same attraction as for them--wound round my faculties the same spell +that entranced theirs. + +Indoors we agreed equally well. They were both more accomplished and +better read than I was; but with eagerness I followed in the path of +knowledge they had trodden before me. I devoured the books they lent me: +then it was full satisfaction to discuss with them in the evening what I +had perused during the day. Thought fitted thought; opinion met opinion: +we coincided, in short, perfectly. + +If in our trio there was a superior and a leader, it was Diana. +Physically, she far excelled me: she was handsome; she was vigorous. In +her animal spirits there was an affluence of life and certainty of flow, +such as excited my wonder, while it baffled my comprehension. I could +talk a while when the evening commenced, but the first gush of vivacity +and fluency gone, I was fain to sit on a stool at Diana's feet, to rest +my head on her knee, and listen alternately to her and Mary, while they +sounded thoroughly the topic on which I had but touched. Diana offered +to teach me German. I liked to learn of her: I saw the part of +instructress pleased and suited her; that of scholar pleased and suited +me no less. Our natures dovetailed: mutual affection--of the strongest +kind--was the result. They discovered I could draw: their pencils and +colour-boxes were immediately at my service. My skill, greater in this +one point than theirs, surprised and charmed them. Mary would sit and +watch me by the hour together: then she would take lessons; and a docile, +intelligent, assiduous pupil she made. Thus occupied, and mutually +entertained, days passed like hours, and weeks like days. + +As to Mr. St John, the intimacy which had arisen so naturally and rapidly +between me and his sisters did not extend to him. One reason of the +distance yet observed between us was, that he was comparatively seldom at +home: a large proportion of his time appeared devoted to visiting the +sick and poor among the scattered population of his parish. + +No weather seemed to hinder him in these pastoral excursions: rain or +fair, he would, when his hours of morning study were over, take his hat, +and, followed by his father's old pointer, Carlo, go out on his mission +of love or duty--I scarcely know in which light he regarded it. +Sometimes, when the day was very unfavourable, his sisters would +expostulate. He would then say, with a peculiar smile, more solemn than +cheerful-- + +"And if I let a gust of wind or a sprinkling of rain turn me aside from +these easy tasks, what preparation would such sloth be for the future I +propose to myself?" + +Diana and Mary's general answer to this question was a sigh, and some +minutes of apparently mournful meditation. + +But besides his frequent absences, there was another barrier to +friendship with him: he seemed of a reserved, an abstracted, and even of +a brooding nature. Zealous in his ministerial labours, blameless in his +life and habits, he yet did not appear to enjoy that mental serenity, +that inward content, which should be the reward of every sincere +Christian and practical philanthropist. Often, of an evening, when he +sat at the window, his desk and papers before him, he would cease reading +or writing, rest his chin on his hand, and deliver himself up to I know +not what course of thought; but that it was perturbed and exciting might +be seen in the frequent flash and changeful dilation of his eye. + +I think, moreover, that Nature was not to him that treasury of delight it +was to his sisters. He expressed once, and but once in my hearing, a +strong sense of the rugged charm of the hills, and an inborn affection +for the dark roof and hoary walls he called his home; but there was more +of gloom than pleasure in the tone and words in which the sentiment was +manifested; and never did he seem to roam the moors for the sake of their +soothing silence--never seek out or dwell upon the thousand peaceful +delights they could yield. + +Incommunicative as he was, some time elapsed before I had an opportunity +of gauging his mind. I first got an idea of its calibre when I heard him +preach in his own church at Morton. I wish I could describe that sermon: +but it is past my power. I cannot even render faithfully the effect it +produced on me. + +It began calm--and indeed, as far as delivery and pitch of voice went, it +was calm to the end: an earnestly felt, yet strictly restrained zeal +breathed soon in the distinct accents, and prompted the nervous language. +This grew to force--compressed, condensed, controlled. The heart was +thrilled, the mind astonished, by the power of the preacher: neither were +softened. Throughout there was a strange bitterness; an absence of +consolatory gentleness; stern allusions to Calvinistic +doctrines--election, predestination, reprobation--were frequent; and each +reference to these points sounded like a sentence pronounced for doom. +When he had done, instead of feeling better, calmer, more enlightened by +his discourse, I experienced an inexpressible sadness; for it seemed to +me--I know not whether equally so to others--that the eloquence to which +I had been listening had sprung from a depth where lay turbid dregs of +disappointment--where moved troubling impulses of insatiate yearnings and +disquieting aspirations. I was sure St. John Rivers--pure-lived, +conscientious, zealous as he was--had not yet found that peace of God +which passeth all understanding: he had no more found it, I thought, than +had I with my concealed and racking regrets for my broken idol and lost +elysium--regrets to which I have latterly avoided referring, but which +possessed me and tyrannised over me ruthlessly. + +Meantime a month was gone. Diana and Mary were soon to leave Moor House, +and return to the far different life and scene which awaited them, as +governesses in a large, fashionable, south-of-England city, where each +held a situation in families by whose wealthy and haughty members they +were regarded only as humble dependants, and who neither knew nor sought +out their innate excellences, and appreciated only their acquired +accomplishments as they appreciated the skill of their cook or the taste +of their waiting-woman. Mr. St. John had said nothing to me yet about +the employment he had promised to obtain for me; yet it became urgent +that I should have a vocation of some kind. One morning, being left +alone with him a few minutes in the parlour, I ventured to approach the +window-recess--which his table, chair, and desk consecrated as a kind of +study--and I was going to speak, though not very well knowing in what +words to frame my inquiry--for it is at all times difficult to break the +ice of reserve glassing over such natures as his--when he saved me the +trouble by being the first to commence a dialogue. + +Looking up as I drew near--"You have a question to ask of me?" he said. + +"Yes; I wish to know whether you have heard of any service I can offer +myself to undertake?" + +"I found or devised something for you three weeks ago; but as you seemed +both useful and happy here--as my sisters had evidently become attached +to you, and your society gave them unusual pleasure--I deemed it +inexpedient to break in on your mutual comfort till their approaching +departure from Marsh End should render yours necessary." + +"And they will go in three days now?" I said. + +"Yes; and when they go, I shall return to the parsonage at Morton: Hannah +will accompany me; and this old house will be shut up." + +I waited a few moments, expecting he would go on with the subject first +broached: but he seemed to have entered another train of reflection: his +look denoted abstraction from me and my business. I was obliged to +recall him to a theme which was of necessity one of close and anxious +interest to me. + +"What is the employment you had in view, Mr. Rivers? I hope this delay +will not have increased the difficulty of securing it." + +"Oh, no; since it is an employment which depends only on me to give, and +you to accept." + +He again paused: there seemed a reluctance to continue. I grew +impatient: a restless movement or two, and an eager and exacting glance +fastened on his face, conveyed the feeling to him as effectually as words +could have done, and with less trouble. + +"You need be in no hurry to hear," he said: "let me frankly tell you, I +have nothing eligible or profitable to suggest. Before I explain, +recall, if you please, my notice, clearly given, that if I helped you, it +must be as the blind man would help the lame. I am poor; for I find +that, when I have paid my father's debts, all the patrimony remaining to +me will be this crumbling grange, the row of scathed firs behind, and the +patch of moorish soil, with the yew-trees and holly-bushes in front. I +am obscure: Rivers is an old name; but of the three sole descendants of +the race, two earn the dependant's crust among strangers, and the third +considers himself an alien from his native country--not only for life, +but in death. Yes, and deems, and is bound to deem, himself honoured by +the lot, and aspires but after the day when the cross of separation from +fleshly ties shall be laid on his shoulders, and when the Head of that +church-militant of whose humblest members he is one, shall give the word, +'Rise, follow Me!'" + +St. John said these words as he pronounced his sermons, with a quiet, +deep voice; with an unflushed cheek, and a coruscating radiance of +glance. He resumed-- + +"And since I am myself poor and obscure, I can offer you but a service of +poverty and obscurity. _You_ may even think it degrading--for I see now +your habits have been what the world calls refined: your tastes lean to +the ideal, and your society has at least been amongst the educated; but +_I_ consider that no service degrades which can better our race. I hold +that the more arid and unreclaimed the soil where the Christian +labourer's task of tillage is appointed him--the scantier the meed his +toil brings--the higher the honour. His, under such circumstances, is +the destiny of the pioneer; and the first pioneers of the Gospel were the +Apostles--their captain was Jesus, the Redeemer, Himself." + +"Well?" I said, as he again paused--"proceed." + +He looked at me before he proceeded: indeed, he seemed leisurely to read +my face, as if its features and lines were characters on a page. The +conclusions drawn from this scrutiny he partially expressed in his +succeeding observations. + +"I believe you will accept the post I offer you," said he, "and hold it +for a while: not permanently, though: any more than I could permanently +keep the narrow and narrowing--the tranquil, hidden office of English +country incumbent; for in your nature is an alloy as detrimental to +repose as that in mine, though of a different kind." + +"Do explain," I urged, when he halted once more. + +"I will; and you shall hear how poor the proposal is,--how trivial--how +cramping. I shall not stay long at Morton, now that my father is dead, +and that I am my own master. I shall leave the place probably in the +course of a twelve-month; but while I do stay, I will exert myself to the +utmost for its improvement. Morton, when I came to it two years ago, had +no school: the children of the poor were excluded from every hope of +progress. I established one for boys: I mean now to open a second school +for girls. I have hired a building for the purpose, with a cottage of +two rooms attached to it for the mistress's house. Her salary will be +thirty pounds a year: her house is already furnished, very simply, but +sufficiently, by the kindness of a lady, Miss Oliver; the only daughter +of the sole rich man in my parish--Mr. Oliver, the proprietor of a needle- +factory and iron-foundry in the valley. The same lady pays for the +education and clothing of an orphan from the workhouse, on condition that +she shall aid the mistress in such menial offices connected with her own +house and the school as her occupation of teaching will prevent her +having time to discharge in person. Will you be this mistress?" + +He put the question rather hurriedly; he seemed half to expect an +indignant, or at least a disdainful rejection of the offer: not knowing +all my thoughts and feelings, though guessing some, he could not tell in +what light the lot would appear to me. In truth it was humble--but then +it was sheltered, and I wanted a safe asylum: it was plodding--but then, +compared with that of a governess in a rich house, it was independent; +and the fear of servitude with strangers entered my soul like iron: it +was not ignoble--not unworthy--not mentally degrading, I made my +decision. + +"I thank you for the proposal, Mr. Rivers, and I accept it with all my +heart." + +"But you comprehend me?" he said. "It is a village school: your scholars +will be only poor girls--cottagers' children--at the best, farmers' +daughters. Knitting, sewing, reading, writing, ciphering, will be all +you will have to teach. What will you do with your accomplishments? +What, with the largest portion of your mind--sentiments--tastes?" + +"Save them till they are wanted. They will keep." + +"You know what you undertake, then?" + +"I do." + +He now smiled: and not a bitter or a sad smile, but one well pleased and +deeply gratified. + +"And when will you commence the exercise of your function?" + +"I will go to my house to-morrow, and open the school, if you like, next +week." + +"Very well: so be it." + +He rose and walked through the room. Standing still, he again looked at +me. He shook his head. + +"What do you disapprove of, Mr. Rivers?" I asked. + +"You will not stay at Morton long: no, no!" + +"Why? What is your reason for saying so?" + +"I read it in your eye; it is not of that description which promises the +maintenance of an even tenor in life." + +"I am not ambitious." + +He started at the word "ambitious." He repeated, "No. What made you +think of ambition? Who is ambitious? I know I am: but how did you find +it out?" + +"I was speaking of myself." + +"Well, if you are not ambitious, you are--" He paused. + +"What?" + +"I was going to say, impassioned: but perhaps you would have +misunderstood the word, and been displeased. I mean, that human +affections and sympathies have a most powerful hold on you. I am sure +you cannot long be content to pass your leisure in solitude, and to +devote your working hours to a monotonous labour wholly void of stimulus: +any more than I can be content," he added, with emphasis, "to live here +buried in morass, pent in with mountains--my nature, that God gave me, +contravened; my faculties, heaven-bestowed, paralysed--made useless. You +hear now how I contradict myself. I, who preached contentment with a +humble lot, and justified the vocation even of hewers of wood and drawers +of water in God's service--I, His ordained minister, almost rave in my +restlessness. Well, propensities and principles must be reconciled by +some means." + +He left the room. In this brief hour I had learnt more of him than in +the whole previous month: yet still he puzzled me. + +Diana and Mary Rivers became more sad and silent as the day approached +for leaving their brother and their home. They both tried to appear as +usual; but the sorrow they had to struggle against was one that could not +be entirely conquered or concealed. Diana intimated that this would be a +different parting from any they had ever yet known. It would probably, +as far as St. John was concerned, be a parting for years: it might be a +parting for life. + +"He will sacrifice all to his long-framed resolves," she said: "natural +affection and feelings more potent still. St. John looks quiet, Jane; +but he hides a fever in his vitals. You would think him gentle, yet in +some things he is inexorable as death; and the worst of it is, my +conscience will hardly permit me to dissuade him from his severe +decision: certainly, I cannot for a moment blame him for it. It is +right, noble, Christian: yet it breaks my heart!" And the tears gushed +to her fine eyes. Mary bent her head low over her work. + +"We are now without father: we shall soon be without home and brother," +she murmured. + +At that moment a little accident supervened, which seemed decreed by fate +purposely to prove the truth of the adage, that "misfortunes never come +singly," and to add to their distresses the vexing one of the slip +between the cup and the lip. St. John passed the window reading a +letter. He entered. + +"Our uncle John is dead," said he. + +Both the sisters seemed struck: not shocked or appalled; the tidings +appeared in their eyes rather momentous than afflicting. + +"Dead?" repeated Diana. + +"Yes." + +She riveted a searching gaze on her brother's face. "And what then?" she +demanded, in a low voice. + +"What then, Die?" he replied, maintaining a marble immobility of feature. +"What then? Why--nothing. Read." + +He threw the letter into her lap. She glanced over it, and handed it to +Mary. Mary perused it in silence, and returned it to her brother. All +three looked at each other, and all three smiled--a dreary, pensive smile +enough. + +"Amen! We can yet live," said Diana at last. + +"At any rate, it makes us no worse off than we were before," remarked +Mary. + +"Only it forces rather strongly on the mind the picture of what _might +have been_," said Mr. Rivers, "and contrasts it somewhat too vividly with +what _is_." + +He folded the letter, locked it in his desk, and again went out. + +For some minutes no one spoke. Diana then turned to me. + +"Jane, you will wonder at us and our mysteries," she said, "and think us +hard-hearted beings not to be more moved at the death of so near a +relation as an uncle; but we have never seen him or known him. He was my +mother's brother. My father and he quarrelled long ago. It was by his +advice that my father risked most of his property in the speculation that +ruined him. Mutual recrimination passed between them: they parted in +anger, and were never reconciled. My uncle engaged afterwards in more +prosperous undertakings: it appears he realised a fortune of twenty +thousand pounds. He was never married, and had no near kindred but +ourselves and one other person, not more closely related than we. My +father always cherished the idea that he would atone for his error by +leaving his possessions to us; that letter informs us that he has +bequeathed every penny to the other relation, with the exception of +thirty guineas, to be divided between St. John, Diana, and Mary Rivers, +for the purchase of three mourning rings. He had a right, of course, to +do as he pleased: and yet a momentary damp is cast on the spirits by the +receipt of such news. Mary and I would have esteemed ourselves rich with +a thousand pounds each; and to St. John such a sum would have been +valuable, for the good it would have enabled him to do." + +This explanation given, the subject was dropped, and no further reference +made to it by either Mr. Rivers or his sisters. The next day I left +Marsh End for Morton. The day after, Diana and Mary quitted it for +distant B-. In a week, Mr. Rivers and Hannah repaired to the parsonage: +and so the old grange was abandoned. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + +My home, then, when I at last find a home,--is a cottage; a little room +with whitewashed walls and a sanded floor, containing four painted chairs +and a table, a clock, a cupboard, with two or three plates and dishes, +and a set of tea-things in delf. Above, a chamber of the same dimensions +as the kitchen, with a deal bedstead and chest of drawers; small, yet too +large to be filled with my scanty wardrobe: though the kindness of my +gentle and generous friends has increased that, by a modest stock of such +things as are necessary. + +It is evening. I have dismissed, with the fee of an orange, the little +orphan who serves me as a handmaid. I am sitting alone on the hearth. +This morning, the village school opened. I had twenty scholars. But +three of the number can read: none write or cipher. Several knit, and a +few sew a little. They speak with the broadest accent of the district. +At present, they and I have a difficulty in understanding each other's +language. Some of them are unmannered, rough, intractable, as well as +ignorant; but others are docile, have a wish to learn, and evince a +disposition that pleases me. I must not forget that these coarsely-clad +little peasants are of flesh and blood as good as the scions of gentlest +genealogy; and that the germs of native excellence, refinement, +intelligence, kind feeling, are as likely to exist in their hearts as in +those of the best-born. My duty will be to develop these germs: surely I +shall find some happiness in discharging that office. Much enjoyment I +do not expect in the life opening before me: yet it will, doubtless, if I +regulate my mind, and exert my powers as I ought, yield me enough to live +on from day to day. + +Was I very gleeful, settled, content, during the hours I passed in yonder +bare, humble schoolroom this morning and afternoon? Not to deceive +myself, I must reply--No: I felt desolate to a degree. I felt--yes, +idiot that I am--I felt degraded. I doubted I had taken a step which +sank instead of raising me in the scale of social existence. I was +weakly dismayed at the ignorance, the poverty, the coarseness of all I +heard and saw round me. But let me not hate and despise myself too much +for these feelings; I know them to be wrong--that is a great step gained; +I shall strive to overcome them. To-morrow, I trust, I shall get the +better of them partially; and in a few weeks, perhaps, they will be quite +subdued. In a few months, it is possible, the happiness of seeing +progress, and a change for the better in my scholars may substitute +gratification for disgust. + +Meantime, let me ask myself one question--Which is better?--To have +surrendered to temptation; listened to passion; made no painful effort--no +struggle;--but to have sunk down in the silken snare; fallen asleep on +the flowers covering it; wakened in a southern clime, amongst the +luxuries of a pleasure villa: to have been now living in France, Mr. +Rochester's mistress; delirious with his love half my time--for he +would--oh, yes, he would have loved me well for a while. He _did_ love +me--no one will ever love me so again. I shall never more know the sweet +homage given to beauty, youth, and grace--for never to any one else shall +I seem to possess these charms. He was fond and proud of me--it is what +no man besides will ever be.--But where am I wandering, and what am I +saying, and above all, feeling? Whether is it better, I ask, to be a +slave in a fool's paradise at Marseilles--fevered with delusive bliss one +hour--suffocating with the bitterest tears of remorse and shame the +next--or to be a village-schoolmistress, free and honest, in a breezy +mountain nook in the healthy heart of England? + +Yes; I feel now that I was right when I adhered to principle and law, and +scorned and crushed the insane promptings of a frenzied moment. God +directed me to a correct choice: I thank His providence for the guidance! + +Having brought my eventide musings to this point, I rose, went to my +door, and looked at the sunset of the harvest-day, and at the quiet +fields before my cottage, which, with the school, was distant half a mile +from the village. The birds were singing their last strains-- + + "The air was mild, the dew was balm." + +While I looked, I thought myself happy, and was surprised to find myself +ere long weeping--and why? For the doom which had reft me from adhesion +to my master: for him I was no more to see; for the desperate grief and +fatal fury--consequences of my departure--which might now, perhaps, be +dragging him from the path of right, too far to leave hope of ultimate +restoration thither. At this thought, I turned my face aside from the +lovely sky of eve and lonely vale of Morton--I say _lonely_, for in that +bend of it visible to me there was no building apparent save the church +and the parsonage, half-hid in trees, and, quite at the extremity, the +roof of Vale Hall, where the rich Mr. Oliver and his daughter lived. I +hid my eyes, and leant my head against the stone frame of my door; but +soon a slight noise near the wicket which shut in my tiny garden from the +meadow beyond it made me look up. A dog--old Carlo, Mr. Rivers' pointer, +as I saw in a moment--was pushing the gate with his nose, and St. John +himself leant upon it with folded arms; his brow knit, his gaze, grave +almost to displeasure, fixed on me. I asked him to come in. + +"No, I cannot stay; I have only brought you a little parcel my sisters +left for you. I think it contains a colour-box, pencils, and paper." + +I approached to take it: a welcome gift it was. He examined my face, I +thought, with austerity, as I came near: the traces of tears were +doubtless very visible upon it. + +"Have you found your first day's work harder than you expected?" he +asked. + +"Oh, no! On the contrary, I think in time I shall get on with my +scholars very well." + +"But perhaps your accommodations--your cottage--your furniture--have +disappointed your expectations? They are, in truth, scanty enough; but--" +I interrupted-- + +"My cottage is clean and weather-proof; my furniture sufficient and +commodious. All I see has made me thankful, not despondent. I am not +absolutely such a fool and sensualist as to regret the absence of a +carpet, a sofa, and silver plate; besides, five weeks ago I had nothing--I +was an outcast, a beggar, a vagrant; now I have acquaintance, a home, a +business. I wonder at the goodness of God; the generosity of my friends; +the bounty of my lot. I do not repine." + +"But you feel solitude an oppression? The little house there behind you +is dark and empty." + +"I have hardly had time yet to enjoy a sense of tranquillity, much less +to grow impatient under one of loneliness." + +"Very well; I hope you feel the content you express: at any rate, your +good sense will tell you that it is too soon yet to yield to the +vacillating fears of Lot's wife. What you had left before I saw you, of +course I do not know; but I counsel you to resist firmly every temptation +which would incline you to look back: pursue your present career +steadily, for some months at least." + +"It is what I mean to do," I answered. St. John continued-- + +"It is hard work to control the workings of inclination and turn the bent +of nature; but that it may be done, I know from experience. God has +given us, in a measure, the power to make our own fate; and when our +energies seem to demand a sustenance they cannot get--when our will +strains after a path we may not follow--we need neither starve from +inanition, nor stand still in despair: we have but to seek another +nourishment for the mind, as strong as the forbidden food it longed to +taste--and perhaps purer; and to hew out for the adventurous foot a road +as direct and broad as the one Fortune has blocked up against us, if +rougher than it. + +"A year ago I was myself intensely miserable, because I thought I had +made a mistake in entering the ministry: its uniform duties wearied me to +death. I burnt for the more active life of the world--for the more +exciting toils of a literary career--for the destiny of an artist, +author, orator; anything rather than that of a priest: yes, the heart of +a politician, of a soldier, of a votary of glory, a lover of renown, a +luster after power, beat under my curate's surplice. I considered; my +life was so wretched, it must be changed, or I must die. After a season +of darkness and struggling, light broke and relief fell: my cramped +existence all at once spread out to a plain without bounds--my powers +heard a call from heaven to rise, gather their full strength, spread +their wings, and mount beyond ken. God had an errand for me; to bear +which afar, to deliver it well, skill and strength, courage and +eloquence, the best qualifications of soldier, statesman, and orator, +were all needed: for these all centre in the good missionary. + +"A missionary I resolved to be. From that moment my state of mind +changed; the fetters dissolved and dropped from every faculty, leaving +nothing of bondage but its galling soreness--which time only can heal. My +father, indeed, imposed the determination, but since his death, I have +not a legitimate obstacle to contend with; some affairs settled, a +successor for Morton provided, an entanglement or two of the feelings +broken through or cut asunder--a last conflict with human weakness, in +which I know I shall overcome, because I have vowed that I _will_ +overcome--and I leave Europe for the East." + +He said this, in his peculiar, subdued, yet emphatic voice; looking, when +he had ceased speaking, not at me, but at the setting sun, at which I +looked too. Both he and I had our backs towards the path leading up the +field to the wicket. We had heard no step on that grass-grown track; the +water running in the vale was the one lulling sound of the hour and +scene; we might well then start when a gay voice, sweet as a silver bell, +exclaimed-- + +"Good evening, Mr. Rivers. And good evening, old Carlo. Your dog is +quicker to recognise his friends than you are, sir; he pricked his ears +and wagged his tail when I was at the bottom of the field, and you have +your back towards me now." + +It was true. Though Mr. Rivers had started at the first of those musical +accents, as if a thunderbolt had split a cloud over his head, he stood +yet, at the close of the sentence, in the same attitude in which the +speaker had surprised him--his arm resting on the gate, his face directed +towards the west. He turned at last, with measured deliberation. A +vision, as it seemed to me, had risen at his side. There appeared, +within three feet of him, a form clad in pure white--a youthful, graceful +form: full, yet fine in contour; and when, after bending to caress Carlo, +it lifted up its head, and threw back a long veil, there bloomed under +his glance a face of perfect beauty. Perfect beauty is a strong +expression; but I do not retrace or qualify it: as sweet features as ever +the temperate clime of Albion moulded; as pure hues of rose and lily as +ever her humid gales and vapoury skies generated and screened, justified, +in this instance, the term. No charm was wanting, no defect was +perceptible; the young girl had regular and delicate lineaments; eyes +shaped and coloured as we see them in lovely pictures, large, and dark, +and full; the long and shadowy eyelash which encircles a fine eye with so +soft a fascination; the pencilled brow which gives such clearness; the +white smooth forehead, which adds such repose to the livelier beauties of +tint and ray; the cheek oval, fresh, and smooth; the lips, fresh too, +ruddy, healthy, sweetly formed; the even and gleaming teeth without flaw; +the small dimpled chin; the ornament of rich, plenteous tresses--all +advantages, in short, which, combined, realise the ideal of beauty, were +fully hers. I wondered, as I looked at this fair creature: I admired her +with my whole heart. Nature had surely formed her in a partial mood; +and, forgetting her usual stinted step-mother dole of gifts, had endowed +this, her darling, with a grand-dame's bounty. + +What did St. John Rivers think of this earthly angel? I naturally asked +myself that question as I saw him turn to her and look at her; and, as +naturally, I sought the answer to the inquiry in his countenance. He had +already withdrawn his eye from the Peri, and was looking at a humble tuft +of daisies which grew by the wicket. + +"A lovely evening, but late for you to be out alone," he said, as he +crushed the snowy heads of the closed flowers with his foot. + +"Oh, I only came home from S-" (she mentioned the name of a large town +some twenty miles distant) "this afternoon. Papa told me you had opened +your school, and that the new mistress was come; and so I put on my +bonnet after tea, and ran up the valley to see her: this is she?" +pointing to me. + +"It is," said St. John. + +"Do you think you shall like Morton?" she asked of me, with a direct and +naive simplicity of tone and manner, pleasing, if child-like. + +"I hope I shall. I have many inducements to do so." + +"Did you find your scholars as attentive as you expected?" + +"Quite." + +"Do you like your house?" + +"Very much." + +"Have I furnished it nicely?" + +"Very nicely, indeed." + +"And made a good choice of an attendant for you in Alice Wood?" + +"You have indeed. She is teachable and handy." (This then, I thought, +is Miss Oliver, the heiress; favoured, it seems, in the gifts of fortune, +as well as in those of nature! What happy combination of the planets +presided over her birth, I wonder?) + +"I shall come up and help you to teach sometimes," she added. "It will +be a change for me to visit you now and then; and I like a change. Mr. +Rivers, I have been _so_ gay during my stay at S-. Last night, or rather +this morning, I was dancing till two o'clock. The ---th regiment are +stationed there since the riots; and the officers are the most agreeable +men in the world: they put all our young knife-grinders and scissor +merchants to shame." + +It seemed to me that Mr. St. John's under lip protruded, and his upper +lip curled a moment. His mouth certainly looked a good deal compressed, +and the lower part of his face unusually stern and square, as the +laughing girl gave him this information. He lifted his gaze, too, from +the daisies, and turned it on her. An unsmiling, a searching, a meaning +gaze it was. She answered it with a second laugh, and laughter well +became her youth, her roses, her dimples, her bright eyes. + +As he stood, mute and grave, she again fell to caressing Carlo. "Poor +Carlo loves me," said she. "_He_ is not stern and distant to his +friends; and if he could speak, he would not be silent." + +As she patted the dog's head, bending with native grace before his young +and austere master, I saw a glow rise to that master's face. I saw his +solemn eye melt with sudden fire, and flicker with resistless emotion. +Flushed and kindled thus, he looked nearly as beautiful for a man as she +for a woman. His chest heaved once, as if his large heart, weary of +despotic constriction, had expanded, despite the will, and made a +vigorous bound for the attainment of liberty. But he curbed it, I think, +as a resolute rider would curb a rearing steed. He responded neither by +word nor movement to the gentle advances made him. + +"Papa says you never come to see us now," continued Miss Oliver, looking +up. "You are quite a stranger at Vale Hall. He is alone this evening, +and not very well: will you return with me and visit him?" + +"It is not a seasonable hour to intrude on Mr. Oliver," answered St. +John. + +"Not a seasonable hour! But I declare it is. It is just the hour when +papa most wants company: when the works are closed and he has no business +to occupy him. Now, Mr. Rivers, _do_ come. Why are you so very shy, and +so very sombre?" She filled up the hiatus his silence left by a reply of +her own. + +"I forgot!" she exclaimed, shaking her beautiful curled head, as if +shocked at herself. "I am so giddy and thoughtless! _Do_ excuse me. It +had slipped my memory that you have good reasons to be indisposed for +joining in my chatter. Diana and Mary have left you, and Moor House is +shut up, and you are so lonely. I am sure I pity you. Do come and see +papa." + +"Not to-night, Miss Rosamond, not to-night." + +Mr. St. John spoke almost like an automaton: himself only knew the effort +it cost him thus to refuse. + +"Well, if you are so obstinate, I will leave you; for I dare not stay any +longer: the dew begins to fall. Good evening!" + +She held out her hand. He just touched it. "Good evening!" he repeated, +in a voice low and hollow as an echo. She turned, but in a moment +returned. + +"Are you well?" she asked. Well might she put the question: his face was +blanched as her gown. + +"Quite well," he enunciated; and, with a bow, he left the gate. She went +one way; he another. She turned twice to gaze after him as she tripped +fairy-like down the field; he, as he strode firmly across, never turned +at all. + +This spectacle of another's suffering and sacrifice rapt my thoughts from +exclusive meditation on my own. Diana Rivers had designated her brother +"inexorable as death." She had not exaggerated. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + +I continued the labours of the village-school as actively and faithfully +as I could. It was truly hard work at first. Some time elapsed before, +with all my efforts, I could comprehend my scholars and their nature. +Wholly untaught, with faculties quite torpid, they seemed to me +hopelessly dull; and, at first sight, all dull alike: but I soon found I +was mistaken. There was a difference amongst them as amongst the +educated; and when I got to know them, and they me, this difference +rapidly developed itself. Their amazement at me, my language, my rules, +and ways, once subsided, I found some of these heavy-looking, gaping +rustics wake up into sharp-witted girls enough. Many showed themselves +obliging, and amiable too; and I discovered amongst them not a few +examples of natural politeness, and innate self-respect, as well as of +excellent capacity, that won both my goodwill and my admiration. These +soon took a pleasure in doing their work well, in keeping their persons +neat, in learning their tasks regularly, in acquiring quiet and orderly +manners. The rapidity of their progress, in some instances, was even +surprising; and an honest and happy pride I took in it: besides, I began +personally to like some of the best girls; and they liked me. I had +amongst my scholars several farmers' daughters: young women grown, +almost. These could already read, write, and sew; and to them I taught +the elements of grammar, geography, history, and the finer kinds of +needlework. I found estimable characters amongst them--characters +desirous of information and disposed for improvement--with whom I passed +many a pleasant evening hour in their own homes. Their parents then (the +farmer and his wife) loaded me with attentions. There was an enjoyment +in accepting their simple kindness, and in repaying it by a +consideration--a scrupulous regard to their feelings--to which they were +not, perhaps, at all times accustomed, and which both charmed and +benefited them; because, while it elevated them in their own eyes, it +made them emulous to merit the deferential treatment they received. + +I felt I became a favourite in the neighbourhood. Whenever I went out, I +heard on all sides cordial salutations, and was welcomed with friendly +smiles. To live amidst general regard, though it be but the regard of +working people, is like "sitting in sunshine, calm and sweet;" serene +inward feelings bud and bloom under the ray. At this period of my life, +my heart far oftener swelled with thankfulness than sank with dejection: +and yet, reader, to tell you all, in the midst of this calm, this useful +existence--after a day passed in honourable exertion amongst my scholars, +an evening spent in drawing or reading contentedly alone--I used to rush +into strange dreams at night: dreams many-coloured, agitated, full of the +ideal, the stirring, the stormy--dreams where, amidst unusual scenes, +charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I still +again and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and +then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, +touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him--the hope of +passing a lifetime at his side, would be renewed, with all its first +force and fire. Then I awoke. Then I recalled where I was, and how +situated. Then I rose up on my curtainless bed, trembling and quivering; +and then the still, dark night witnessed the convulsion of despair, and +heard the burst of passion. By nine o'clock the next morning I was +punctually opening the school; tranquil, settled, prepared for the steady +duties of the day. + +Rosamond Oliver kept her word in coming to visit me. Her call at the +school was generally made in the course of her morning ride. She would +canter up to the door on her pony, followed by a mounted livery servant. +Anything more exquisite than her appearance, in her purple habit, with +her Amazon's cap of black velvet placed gracefully above the long curls +that kissed her cheek and floated to her shoulders, can scarcely be +imagined: and it was thus she would enter the rustic building, and glide +through the dazzled ranks of the village children. She generally came at +the hour when Mr. Rivers was engaged in giving his daily catechising +lesson. Keenly, I fear, did the eye of the visitress pierce the young +pastor's heart. A sort of instinct seemed to warn him of her entrance, +even when he did not see it; and when he was looking quite away from the +door, if she appeared at it, his cheek would glow, and his marble-seeming +features, though they refused to relax, changed indescribably, and in +their very quiescence became expressive of a repressed fervour, stronger +than working muscle or darting glance could indicate. + +Of course, she knew her power: indeed, he did not, because he could not, +conceal it from her. In spite of his Christian stoicism, when she went +up and addressed him, and smiled gaily, encouragingly, even fondly in his +face, his hand would tremble and his eye burn. He seemed to say, with +his sad and resolute look, if he did not say it with his lips, "I love +you, and I know you prefer me. It is not despair of success that keeps +me dumb. If I offered my heart, I believe you would accept it. But that +heart is already laid on a sacred altar: the fire is arranged round it. +It will soon be no more than a sacrifice consumed." + +And then she would pout like a disappointed child; a pensive cloud would +soften her radiant vivacity; she would withdraw her hand hastily from +his, and turn in transient petulance from his aspect, at once so heroic +and so martyr-like. St. John, no doubt, would have given the world to +follow, recall, retain her, when she thus left him; but he would not give +one chance of heaven, nor relinquish, for the elysium of her love, one +hope of the true, eternal Paradise. Besides, he could not bind all that +he had in his nature--the rover, the aspirant, the poet, the priest--in +the limits of a single passion. He could not--he would not--renounce his +wild field of mission warfare for the parlours and the peace of Vale +Hall. I learnt so much from himself in an inroad I once, despite his +reserve, had the daring to make on his confidence. + +Miss Oliver already honoured me with frequent visits to my cottage. I +had learnt her whole character, which was without mystery or disguise: +she was coquettish but not heartless; exacting, but not worthlessly +selfish. She had been indulged from her birth, but was not absolutely +spoilt. She was hasty, but good-humoured; vain (she could not help it, +when every glance in the glass showed her such a flush of loveliness), +but not affected; liberal-handed; innocent of the pride of wealth; +ingenuous; sufficiently intelligent; gay, lively, and unthinking: she was +very charming, in short, even to a cool observer of her own sex like me; +but she was not profoundly interesting or thoroughly impressive. A very +different sort of mind was hers from that, for instance, of the sisters +of St. John. Still, I liked her almost as I liked my pupil Adele; except +that, for a child whom we have watched over and taught, a closer +affection is engendered than we can give an equally attractive adult +acquaintance. + +She had taken an amiable caprice to me. She said I was like Mr. Rivers, +only, certainly, she allowed, "not one-tenth so handsome, though I was a +nice neat little soul enough, but he was an angel." I was, however, +good, clever, composed, and firm, like him. I was a _lusus naturae_, she +affirmed, as a village schoolmistress: she was sure my previous history, +if known, would make a delightful romance. + +One evening, while, with her usual child-like activity, and thoughtless +yet not offensive inquisitiveness, she was rummaging the cupboard and the +table-drawer of my little kitchen, she discovered first two French books, +a volume of Schiller, a German grammar and dictionary, and then my +drawing-materials and some sketches, including a pencil-head of a pretty +little cherub-like girl, one of my scholars, and sundry views from +nature, taken in the Vale of Morton and on the surrounding moors. She +was first transfixed with surprise, and then electrified with delight. + +"Had I done these pictures? Did I know French and German? What a +love--what a miracle I was! I drew better than her master in the first +school in S-. Would I sketch a portrait of her, to show to papa?" + +"With pleasure," I replied; and I felt a thrill of artist-delight at the +idea of copying from so perfect and radiant a model. She had then on a +dark-blue silk dress; her arms and her neck were bare; her only ornament +was her chestnut tresses, which waved over her shoulders with all the +wild grace of natural curls. I took a sheet of fine card-board, and drew +a careful outline. I promised myself the pleasure of colouring it; and, +as it was getting late then, I told her she must come and sit another +day. + +She made such a report of me to her father, that Mr. Oliver himself +accompanied her next evening--a tall, massive-featured, middle-aged, and +grey-headed man, at whose side his lovely daughter looked like a bright +flower near a hoary turret. He appeared a taciturn, and perhaps a proud +personage; but he was very kind to me. The sketch of Rosamond's portrait +pleased him highly: he said I must make a finished picture of it. He +insisted, too, on my coming the next day to spend the evening at Vale +Hall. + +I went. I found it a large, handsome residence, showing abundant +evidences of wealth in the proprietor. Rosamond was full of glee and +pleasure all the time I stayed. Her father was affable; and when he +entered into conversation with me after tea, he expressed in strong terms +his approbation of what I had done in Morton school, and said he only +feared, from what he saw and heard, I was too good for the place, and +would soon quit it for one more suitable. + +"Indeed," cried Rosamond, "she is clever enough to be a governess in a +high family, papa." + +I thought I would far rather be where I am than in any high family in the +land. Mr. Oliver spoke of Mr. Rivers--of the Rivers family--with great +respect. He said it was a very old name in that neighbourhood; that the +ancestors of the house were wealthy; that all Morton had once belonged to +them; that even now he considered the representative of that house might, +if he liked, make an alliance with the best. He accounted it a pity that +so fine and talented a young man should have formed the design of going +out as a missionary; it was quite throwing a valuable life away. It +appeared, then, that her father would throw no obstacle in the way of +Rosamond's union with St. John. Mr. Oliver evidently regarded the young +clergyman's good birth, old name, and sacred profession as sufficient +compensation for the want of fortune. + +It was the 5th of November, and a holiday. My little servant, after +helping me to clean my house, was gone, well satisfied with the fee of a +penny for her aid. All about me was spotless and bright--scoured floor, +polished grate, and well-rubbed chairs. I had also made myself neat, and +had now the afternoon before me to spend as I would. + +The translation of a few pages of German occupied an hour; then I got my +palette and pencils, and fell to the more soothing, because easier +occupation, of completing Rosamond Oliver's miniature. The head was +finished already: there was but the background to tint and the drapery to +shade off; a touch of carmine, too, to add to the ripe lips--a soft curl +here and there to the tresses--a deeper tinge to the shadow of the lash +under the azured eyelid. I was absorbed in the execution of these nice +details, when, after one rapid tap, my door unclosed, admitting St. John +Rivers. + +"I am come to see how you are spending your holiday," he said. "Not, I +hope, in thought? No, that is well: while you draw you will not feel +lonely. You see, I mistrust you still, though you have borne up +wonderfully so far. I have brought you a book for evening solace," and +he laid on the table a new publication--a poem: one of those genuine +productions so often vouchsafed to the fortunate public of those days--the +golden age of modern literature. Alas! the readers of our era are less +favoured. But courage! I will not pause either to accuse or repine. I +know poetry is not dead, nor genius lost; nor has Mammon gained power +over either, to bind or slay: they will both assert their existence, +their presence, their liberty and strength again one day. Powerful +angels, safe in heaven! they smile when sordid souls triumph, and feeble +ones weep over their destruction. Poetry destroyed? Genius banished? +No! Mediocrity, no: do not let envy prompt you to the thought. No; they +not only live, but reign and redeem: and without their divine influence +spread everywhere, you would be in hell--the hell of your own meanness. + +While I was eagerly glancing at the bright pages of "Marmion" (for +"Marmion" it was), St. John stooped to examine my drawing. His tall +figure sprang erect again with a start: he said nothing. I looked up at +him: he shunned my eye. I knew his thoughts well, and could read his +heart plainly; at the moment I felt calmer and cooler than he: I had then +temporarily the advantage of him, and I conceived an inclination to do +him some good, if I could. + +"With all his firmness and self-control," thought I, "he tasks himself +too far: locks every feeling and pang within--expresses, confesses, +imparts nothing. I am sure it would benefit him to talk a little about +this sweet Rosamond, whom he thinks he ought not to marry: I will make +him talk." + +I said first, "Take a chair, Mr. Rivers." But he answered, as he always +did, that he could not stay. "Very well," I responded, mentally, "stand +if you like; but you shall not go just yet, I am determined: solitude is +at least as bad for you as it is for me. I'll try if I cannot discover +the secret spring of your confidence, and find an aperture in that marble +breast through which I can shed one drop of the balm of sympathy." + +"Is this portrait like?" I asked bluntly. + +"Like! Like whom? I did not observe it closely." + +"You did, Mr. Rivers." + +He almost started at my sudden and strange abruptness: he looked at me +astonished. "Oh, that is nothing yet," I muttered within. "I don't mean +to be baffled by a little stiffness on your part; I'm prepared to go to +considerable lengths." I continued, "You observed it closely and +distinctly; but I have no objection to your looking at it again," and I +rose and placed it in his hand. + +"A well-executed picture," he said; "very soft, clear colouring; very +graceful and correct drawing." + +"Yes, yes; I know all that. But what of the resemblance? Who is it +like?" + +Mastering some hesitation, he answered, "Miss Oliver, I presume." + +"Of course. And now, sir, to reward you for the accurate guess, I will +promise to paint you a careful and faithful duplicate of this very +picture, provided you admit that the gift would be acceptable to you. I +don't wish to throw away my time and trouble on an offering you would +deem worthless." + +He continued to gaze at the picture: the longer he looked, the firmer he +held it, the more he seemed to covet it. "It is like!" he murmured; "the +eye is well managed: the colour, light, expression, are perfect. It +smiles!" + +"Would it comfort, or would it wound you to have a similar painting? Tell +me that. When you are at Madagascar, or at the Cape, or in India, would +it be a consolation to have that memento in your possession? or would the +sight of it bring recollections calculated to enervate and distress?" + +He now furtively raised his eyes: he glanced at me, irresolute, +disturbed: he again surveyed the picture. + +"That I should like to have it is certain: whether it would be judicious +or wise is another question." + +Since I had ascertained that Rosamond really preferred him, and that her +father was not likely to oppose the match, I--less exalted in my views +than St. John--had been strongly disposed in my own heart to advocate +their union. It seemed to me that, should he become the possessor of Mr. +Oliver's large fortune, he might do as much good with it as if he went +and laid his genius out to wither, and his strength to waste, under a +tropical sun. With this persuasion I now answered-- + +"As far as I can see, it would be wiser and more judicious if you were to +take to yourself the original at once." + +By this time he had sat down: he had laid the picture on the table before +him, and with his brow supported on both hands, hung fondly over it. I +discerned he was now neither angry nor shocked at my audacity. I saw +even that to be thus frankly addressed on a subject he had deemed +unapproachable--to hear it thus freely handled--was beginning to be felt +by him as a new pleasure--an unhoped-for relief. Reserved people often +really need the frank discussion of their sentiments and griefs more than +the expansive. The sternest-seeming stoic is human after all; and to +"burst" with boldness and good-will into "the silent sea" of their souls +is often to confer on them the first of obligations. + +"She likes you, I am sure," said I, as I stood behind his chair, "and her +father respects you. Moreover, she is a sweet girl--rather thoughtless; +but you would have sufficient thought for both yourself and her. You +ought to marry her." + +"_Does_ she like me?" he asked. + +"Certainly; better than she likes any one else. She talks of you +continually: there is no subject she enjoys so much or touches upon so +often." + +"It is very pleasant to hear this," he said--"very: go on for another +quarter of an hour." And he actually took out his watch and laid it upon +the table to measure the time. + +"But where is the use of going on," I asked, "when you are probably +preparing some iron blow of contradiction, or forging a fresh chain to +fetter your heart?" + +"Don't imagine such hard things. Fancy me yielding and melting, as I am +doing: human love rising like a freshly opened fountain in my mind and +overflowing with sweet inundation all the field I have so carefully and +with such labour prepared--so assiduously sown with the seeds of good +intentions, of self-denying plans. And now it is deluged with a +nectarous flood--the young germs swamped--delicious poison cankering +them: now I see myself stretched on an ottoman in the drawing-room at +Vale Hall at my bride Rosamond Oliver's feet: she is talking to me with +her sweet voice--gazing down on me with those eyes your skilful hand has +copied so well--smiling at me with these coral lips. She is mine--I am +hers--this present life and passing world suffice to me. Hush! say +nothing--my heart is full of delight--my senses are entranced--let the +time I marked pass in peace." + +I humoured him: the watch ticked on: he breathed fast and low: I stood +silent. Amidst this hush the quartet sped; he replaced the watch, laid +the picture down, rose, and stood on the hearth. + +"Now," said he, "that little space was given to delirium and delusion. I +rested my temples on the breast of temptation, and put my neck +voluntarily under her yoke of flowers. I tasted her cup. The pillow was +burning: there is an asp in the garland: the wine has a bitter taste: her +promises are hollow--her offers false: I see and know all this." + +I gazed at him in wonder. + +"It is strange," pursued he, "that while I love Rosamond Oliver so +wildly--with all the intensity, indeed, of a first passion, the object of +which is exquisitely beautiful, graceful, fascinating--I experience at +the same time a calm, unwarped consciousness that she would not make me a +good wife; that she is not the partner suited to me; that I should +discover this within a year after marriage; and that to twelve months' +rapture would succeed a lifetime of regret. This I know." + +"Strange indeed!" I could not help ejaculating. + +"While something in me," he went on, "is acutely sensible to her charms, +something else is as deeply impressed with her defects: they are such +that she could sympathise in nothing I aspired to--co-operate in nothing +I undertook. Rosamond a sufferer, a labourer, a female apostle? Rosamond +a missionary's wife? No!" + +"But you need not be a missionary. You might relinquish that scheme." + +"Relinquish! What! my vocation? My great work? My foundation laid on +earth for a mansion in heaven? My hopes of being numbered in the band +who have merged all ambitions in the glorious one of bettering their +race--of carrying knowledge into the realms of ignorance--of substituting +peace for war--freedom for bondage--religion for superstition--the hope +of heaven for the fear of hell? Must I relinquish that? It is dearer +than the blood in my veins. It is what I have to look forward to, and to +live for." + +After a considerable pause, I said--"And Miss Oliver? Are her +disappointment and sorrow of no interest to you?" + +"Miss Oliver is ever surrounded by suitors and flatterers: in less than a +month, my image will be effaced from her heart. She will forget me; and +will marry, probably, some one who will make her far happier than I +should do." + +"You speak coolly enough; but you suffer in the conflict. You are +wasting away." + +"No. If I get a little thin, it is with anxiety about my prospects, yet +unsettled--my departure, continually procrastinated. Only this morning, +I received intelligence that the successor, whose arrival I have been so +long expecting, cannot be ready to replace me for three months to come +yet; and perhaps the three months may extend to six." + +"You tremble and become flushed whenever Miss Oliver enters the +schoolroom." + +Again the surprised expression crossed his face. He had not imagined +that a woman would dare to speak so to a man. For me, I felt at home in +this sort of discourse. I could never rest in communication with strong, +discreet, and refined minds, whether male or female, till I had passed +the outworks of conventional reserve, and crossed the threshold of +confidence, and won a place by their heart's very hearthstone. + +"You are original," said he, "and not timid. There is something brave in +your spirit, as well as penetrating in your eye; but allow me to assure +you that you partially misinterpret my emotions. You think them more +profound and potent than they are. You give me a larger allowance of +sympathy than I have a just claim to. When I colour, and when I shade +before Miss Oliver, I do not pity myself. I scorn the weakness. I know +it is ignoble: a mere fever of the flesh: not, I declare, the convulsion +of the soul. _That_ is just as fixed as a rock, firm set in the depths +of a restless sea. Know me to be what I am--a cold hard man." + +I smiled incredulously. + +"You have taken my confidence by storm," he continued, "and now it is +much at your service. I am simply, in my original state--stripped of +that blood-bleached robe with which Christianity covers human deformity--a +cold, hard, ambitious man. Natural affection only, of all the +sentiments, has permanent power over me. Reason, and not feeling, is my +guide; my ambition is unlimited: my desire to rise higher, to do more +than others, insatiable. I honour endurance, perseverance, industry, +talent; because these are the means by which men achieve great ends and +mount to lofty eminence. I watch your career with interest, because I +consider you a specimen of a diligent, orderly, energetic woman: not +because I deeply compassionate what you have gone through, or what you +still suffer." + +"You would describe yourself as a mere pagan philosopher," I said. + +"No. There is this difference between me and deistic philosophers: I +believe; and I believe the Gospel. You missed your epithet. I am not a +pagan, but a Christian philosopher--a follower of the sect of Jesus. As +His disciple I adopt His pure, His merciful, His benignant doctrines. I +advocate them: I am sworn to spread them. Won in youth to religion, she +has cultivated my original qualities thus:--From the minute germ, natural +affection, she has developed the overshadowing tree, philanthropy. From +the wild stringy root of human uprightness, she has reared a due sense of +the Divine justice. Of the ambition to win power and renown for my +wretched self, she has formed the ambition to spread my Master's kingdom; +to achieve victories for the standard of the cross. So much has religion +done for me; turning the original materials to the best account; pruning +and training nature. But she could not eradicate nature: nor will it be +eradicated 'till this mortal shall put on immortality.'" + +Having said this, he took his hat, which lay on the table beside my +palette. Once more he looked at the portrait. + +"She _is_ lovely," he murmured. "She is well named the Rose of the +World, indeed!" + +"And may I not paint one like it for you?" + +"_Cui bono_? No." + +He drew over the picture the sheet of thin paper on which I was +accustomed to rest my hand in painting, to prevent the cardboard from +being sullied. What he suddenly saw on this blank paper, it was +impossible for me to tell; but something had caught his eye. He took it +up with a snatch; he looked at the edge; then shot a glance at me, +inexpressibly peculiar, and quite incomprehensible: a glance that seemed +to take and make note of every point in my shape, face, and dress; for it +traversed all, quick, keen as lightning. His lips parted, as if to +speak: but he checked the coming sentence, whatever it was. + +"What is the matter?" I asked. + +"Nothing in the world," was the reply; and, replacing the paper, I saw +him dexterously tear a narrow slip from the margin. It disappeared in +his glove; and, with one hasty nod and "good-afternoon," he vanished. + +"Well!" I exclaimed, using an expression of the district, "that caps the +globe, however!" + +I, in my turn, scrutinised the paper; but saw nothing on it save a few +dingy stains of paint where I had tried the tint in my pencil. I +pondered the mystery a minute or two; but finding it insolvable, and +being certain it could not be of much moment, I dismissed, and soon +forgot it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + +When Mr. St. John went, it was beginning to snow; the whirling storm +continued all night. The next day a keen wind brought fresh and blinding +falls; by twilight the valley was drifted up and almost impassable. I +had closed my shutter, laid a mat to the door to prevent the snow from +blowing in under it, trimmed my fire, and after sitting nearly an hour on +the hearth listening to the muffled fury of the tempest, I lit a candle, +took down "Marmion," and beginning-- + + "Day set on Norham's castled steep, + And Tweed's fair river broad and deep, + And Cheviot's mountains lone; + The massive towers, the donjon keep, + The flanking walls that round them sweep, + In yellow lustre shone"-- + +I soon forgot storm in music. + +I heard a noise: the wind, I thought, shook the door. No; it was St. +John Rivers, who, lifting the latch, came in out of the frozen +hurricane--the howling darkness--and stood before me: the cloak that +covered his tall figure all white as a glacier. I was almost in +consternation, so little had I expected any guest from the blocked-up +vale that night. + +"Any ill news?" I demanded. "Has anything happened?" + +"No. How very easily alarmed you are!" he answered, removing his cloak +and hanging it up against the door, towards which he again coolly pushed +the mat which his entrance had deranged. He stamped the snow from his +boots. + +"I shall sully the purity of your floor," said he, "but you must excuse +me for once." Then he approached the fire. "I have had hard work to get +here, I assure you," he observed, as he warmed his hands over the flame. +"One drift took me up to the waist; happily the snow is quite soft yet." + +"But why are you come?" I could not forbear saying. + +"Rather an inhospitable question to put to a visitor; but since you ask +it, I answer simply to have a little talk with you; I got tired of my +mute books and empty rooms. Besides, since yesterday I have experienced +the excitement of a person to whom a tale has been half-told, and who is +impatient to hear the sequel." + +He sat down. I recalled his singular conduct of yesterday, and really I +began to fear his wits were touched. If he were insane, however, his was +a very cool and collected insanity: I had never seen that +handsome-featured face of his look more like chiselled marble than it did +just now, as he put aside his snow-wet hair from his forehead and let the +firelight shine free on his pale brow and cheek as pale, where it grieved +me to discover the hollow trace of care or sorrow now so plainly graved. +I waited, expecting he would say something I could at least comprehend; +but his hand was now at his chin, his finger on his lip: he was thinking. +It struck me that his hand looked wasted like his face. A perhaps +uncalled-for gush of pity came over my heart: I was moved to say-- + +"I wish Diana or Mary would come and live with you: it is too bad that +you should be quite alone; and you are recklessly rash about your own +health." + +"Not at all," said he: "I care for myself when necessary. I am well now. +What do you see amiss in me?" + +This was said with a careless, abstracted indifference, which showed that +my solicitude was, at least in his opinion, wholly superfluous. I was +silenced. + +He still slowly moved his finger over his upper lip, and still his eye +dwelt dreamily on the glowing grate; thinking it urgent to say something, +I asked him presently if he felt any cold draught from the door, which +was behind him. + +"No, no!" he responded shortly and somewhat testily. + +"Well," I reflected, "if you won't talk, you may be still; I'll let you +alone now, and return to my book." + +So I snuffed the candle and resumed the perusal of "Marmion." He soon +stirred; my eye was instantly drawn to his movements; he only took out a +morocco pocket-book, thence produced a letter, which he read in silence, +folded it, put it back, relapsed into meditation. It was vain to try to +read with such an inscrutable fixture before me; nor could I, in +impatience, consent to be dumb; he might rebuff me if he liked, but talk +I would. + +"Have you heard from Diana and Mary lately?" + +"Not since the letter I showed you a week ago." + +"There has not been any change made about your own arrangements? You +will not be summoned to leave England sooner than you expected?" + +"I fear not, indeed: such chance is too good to befall me." Baffled so +far, I changed my ground. I bethought myself to talk about the school +and my scholars. + +"Mary Garrett's mother is better, and Mary came back to the school this +morning, and I shall have four new girls next week from the Foundry +Close--they would have come to-day but for the snow." + +"Indeed!" + +"Mr. Oliver pays for two." + +"Does he?" + +"He means to give the whole school a treat at Christmas." + +"I know." + +"Was it your suggestion?" + +"No." + +"Whose, then?" + +"His daughter's, I think." + +"It is like her: she is so good-natured." + +"Yes." + +Again came the blank of a pause: the clock struck eight strokes. It +aroused him; he uncrossed his legs, sat erect, turned to me. + +"Leave your book a moment, and come a little nearer the fire," he said. + +Wondering, and of my wonder finding no end, I complied. + +"Half-an-hour ago," he pursued, "I spoke of my impatience to hear the +sequel of a tale: on reflection, I find the matter will be better managed +by my assuming the narrator's part, and converting you into a listener. +Before commencing, it is but fair to warn you that the story will sound +somewhat hackneyed in your ears; but stale details often regain a degree +of freshness when they pass through new lips. For the rest, whether +trite or novel, it is short. + +"Twenty years ago, a poor curate--never mind his name at this moment--fell +in love with a rich man's daughter; she fell in love with him, and +married him, against the advice of all her friends, who consequently +disowned her immediately after the wedding. Before two years passed, the +rash pair were both dead, and laid quietly side by side under one slab. +(I have seen their grave; it formed part of the pavement of a huge +churchyard surrounding the grim, soot-black old cathedral of an overgrown +manufacturing town in ---shire.) They left a daughter, which, at its +very birth, Charity received in her lap--cold as that of the snow-drift I +almost stuck fast in to-night. Charity carried the friendless thing to +the house of its rich maternal relations; it was reared by an aunt-in- +law, called (I come to names now) Mrs. Reed of Gateshead. You start--did +you hear a noise? I daresay it is only a rat scrambling along the +rafters of the adjoining schoolroom: it was a barn before I had it +repaired and altered, and barns are generally haunted by rats.--To +proceed. Mrs. Reed kept the orphan ten years: whether it was happy or +not with her, I cannot say, never having been told; but at the end of +that time she transferred it to a place you know--being no other than +Lowood School, where you so long resided yourself. It seems her career +there was very honourable: from a pupil, she became a teacher, like +yourself--really it strikes me there are parallel points in her history +and yours--she left it to be a governess: there, again, your fates were +analogous; she undertook the education of the ward of a certain Mr. +Rochester." + +"Mr. Rivers!" I interrupted. + +"I can guess your feelings," he said, "but restrain them for a while: I +have nearly finished; hear me to the end. Of Mr. Rochester's character I +know nothing, but the one fact that he professed to offer honourable +marriage to this young girl, and that at the very altar she discovered he +had a wife yet alive, though a lunatic. What his subsequent conduct and +proposals were is a matter of pure conjecture; but when an event +transpired which rendered inquiry after the governess necessary, it was +discovered she was gone--no one could tell when, where, or how. She had +left Thornfield Hall in the night; every research after her course had +been vain: the country had been scoured far and wide; no vestige of +information could be gathered respecting her. Yet that she should be +found is become a matter of serious urgency: advertisements have been put +in all the papers; I myself have received a letter from one Mr. Briggs, a +solicitor, communicating the details I have just imparted. Is it not an +odd tale?" + +"Just tell me this," said I, "and since you know so much, you surely can +tell it me--what of Mr. Rochester? How and where is he? What is he +doing? Is he well?" + +"I am ignorant of all concerning Mr. Rochester: the letter never mentions +him but to narrate the fraudulent and illegal attempt I have adverted to. +You should rather ask the name of the governess--the nature of the event +which requires her appearance." + +"Did no one go to Thornfield Hall, then? Did no one see Mr. Rochester?" + +"I suppose not." + +"But they wrote to him?" + +"Of course." + +"And what did he say? Who has his letters?" + +"Mr. Briggs intimates that the answer to his application was not from Mr. +Rochester, but from a lady: it is signed 'Alice Fairfax.'" + +I felt cold and dismayed: my worst fears then were probably true: he had +in all probability left England and rushed in reckless desperation to +some former haunt on the Continent. And what opiate for his severe +sufferings--what object for his strong passions--had he sought there? I +dared not answer the question. Oh, my poor master--once almost my +husband--whom I had often called "my dear Edward!" + +"He must have been a bad man," observed Mr. Rivers. + +"You don't know him--don't pronounce an opinion upon him," I said, with +warmth. + +"Very well," he answered quietly: "and indeed my head is otherwise +occupied than with him: I have my tale to finish. Since you won't ask +the governess's name, I must tell it of my own accord. Stay! I have it +here--it is always more satisfactory to see important points written +down, fairly committed to black and white." + +And the pocket-book was again deliberately produced, opened, sought +through; from one of its compartments was extracted a shabby slip of +paper, hastily torn off: I recognised in its texture and its stains of +ultra-marine, and lake, and vermillion, the ravished margin of the +portrait-cover. He got up, held it close to my eyes: and I read, traced +in Indian ink, in my own handwriting, the words "JANE EYRE"--the work +doubtless of some moment of abstraction. + +"Briggs wrote to me of a Jane Eyre:" he said, "the advertisements +demanded a Jane Eyre: I knew a Jane Elliott.--I confess I had my +suspicions, but it was only yesterday afternoon they were at once +resolved into certainty. You own the name and renounce the _alias_?" + +"Yes--yes; but where is Mr. Briggs? He perhaps knows more of Mr. +Rochester than you do." + +"Briggs is in London. I should doubt his knowing anything at all about +Mr. Rochester; it is not in Mr. Rochester he is interested. Meantime, +you forget essential points in pursuing trifles: you do not inquire why +Mr. Briggs sought after you--what he wanted with you." + +"Well, what did he want?" + +"Merely to tell you that your uncle, Mr. Eyre of Madeira, is dead; that +he has left you all his property, and that you are now rich--merely +that--nothing more." + +"I!--rich?" + +"Yes, you, rich--quite an heiress." + +Silence succeeded. + +"You must prove your identity of course," resumed St. John presently: "a +step which will offer no difficulties; you can then enter on immediate +possession. Your fortune is vested in the English funds; Briggs has the +will and the necessary documents." + +Here was a new card turned up! It is a fine thing, reader, to be lifted +in a moment from indigence to wealth--a very fine thing; but not a matter +one can comprehend, or consequently enjoy, all at once. And then there +are other chances in life far more thrilling and rapture-giving: _this_ +is solid, an affair of the actual world, nothing ideal about it: all its +associations are solid and sober, and its manifestations are the same. +One does not jump, and spring, and shout hurrah! at hearing one has got a +fortune; one begins to consider responsibilities, and to ponder business; +on a base of steady satisfaction rise certain grave cares, and we contain +ourselves, and brood over our bliss with a solemn brow. + +Besides, the words Legacy, Bequest, go side by side with the words, +Death, Funeral. My uncle I had heard was dead--my only relative; ever +since being made aware of his existence, I had cherished the hope of one +day seeing him: now, I never should. And then this money came only to +me: not to me and a rejoicing family, but to my isolated self. It was a +grand boon doubtless; and independence would be glorious--yes, I felt +that--that thought swelled my heart. + +"You unbend your forehead at last," said Mr. Rivers. "I thought Medusa +had looked at you, and that you were turning to stone. Perhaps now you +will ask how much you are worth?" + +"How much am I worth?" + +"Oh, a trifle! Nothing of course to speak of--twenty thousand pounds, I +think they say--but what is that?" + +"Twenty thousand pounds?" + +Here was a new stunner--I had been calculating on four or five thousand. +This news actually took my breath for a moment: Mr. St. John, whom I had +never heard laugh before, laughed now. + +"Well," said he, "if you had committed a murder, and I had told you your +crime was discovered, you could scarcely look more aghast." + +"It is a large sum--don't you think there is a mistake?" + +"No mistake at all." + +"Perhaps you have read the figures wrong--it may be two thousand!" + +"It is written in letters, not figures,--twenty thousand." + +I again felt rather like an individual of but average gastronomical +powers sitting down to feast alone at a table spread with provisions for +a hundred. Mr. Rivers rose now and put his cloak on. + +"If it were not such a very wild night," he said, "I would send Hannah +down to keep you company: you look too desperately miserable to be left +alone. But Hannah, poor woman! could not stride the drifts so well as I: +her legs are not quite so long: so I must e'en leave you to your sorrows. +Good-night." + +He was lifting the latch: a sudden thought occurred to me. "Stop one +minute!" I cried. + +"Well?" + +"It puzzles me to know why Mr. Briggs wrote to you about me; or how he +knew you, or could fancy that you, living in such an out-of-the-way +place, had the power to aid in my discovery." + +"Oh! I am a clergyman," he said; "and the clergy are often appealed to +about odd matters." Again the latch rattled. + +"No; that does not satisfy me!" I exclaimed: and indeed there was +something in the hasty and unexplanatory reply which, instead of +allaying, piqued my curiosity more than ever. + +"It is a very strange piece of business," I added; "I must know more +about it." + +"Another time." + +"No; to-night!--to-night!" and as he turned from the door, I placed +myself between it and him. He looked rather embarrassed. + +"You certainly shall not go till you have told me all," I said. + +"I would rather not just now." + +"You shall!--you must!" + +"I would rather Diana or Mary informed you." + +Of course these objections wrought my eagerness to a climax: gratified it +must be, and that without delay; and I told him so. + +"But I apprised you that I was a hard man," said he, "difficult to +persuade." + +"And I am a hard woman,--impossible to put off." + +{And I am a hard woman,--impossible to put off: p369.jpg} + +"And then," he pursued, "I am cold: no fervour infects me." + +"Whereas I am hot, and fire dissolves ice. The blaze there has thawed +all the snow from your cloak; by the same token, it has streamed on to my +floor, and made it like a trampled street. As you hope ever to be +forgiven, Mr. Rivers, the high crime and misdemeanour of spoiling a +sanded kitchen, tell me what I wish to know." + +"Well, then," he said, "I yield; if not to your earnestness, to your +perseverance: as stone is worn by continual dropping. Besides, you must +know some day,--as well now as later. Your name is Jane Eyre?" + +"Of course: that was all settled before." + +"You are not, perhaps, aware that I am your namesake?--that I was +christened St. John Eyre Rivers?" + +"No, indeed! I remember now seeing the letter E. comprised in your +initials written in books you have at different times lent me; but I +never asked for what name it stood. But what then? Surely--" + +I stopped: I could not trust myself to entertain, much less to express, +the thought that rushed upon me--that embodied itself,--that, in a +second, stood out a strong, solid probability. Circumstances knit +themselves, fitted themselves, shot into order: the chain that had been +lying hitherto a formless lump of links was drawn out straight,--every +ring was perfect, the connection complete. I knew, by instinct, how the +matter stood, before St. John had said another word; but I cannot expect +the reader to have the same intuitive perception, so I must repeat his +explanation. + +"My mother's name was Eyre; she had two brothers; one a clergyman, who +married Miss Jane Reed, of Gateshead; the other, John Eyre, Esq., +merchant, late of Funchal, Madeira. Mr. Briggs, being Mr. Eyre's +solicitor, wrote to us last August to inform us of our uncle's death, and +to say that he had left his property to his brother the clergyman's +orphan daughter, overlooking us, in consequence of a quarrel, never +forgiven, between him and my father. He wrote again a few weeks since, +to intimate that the heiress was lost, and asking if we knew anything of +her. A name casually written on a slip of paper has enabled me to find +her out. You know the rest." Again he was going, but I set my back +against the door. + +"Do let me speak," I said; "let me have one moment to draw breath and +reflect." I paused--he stood before me, hat in hand, looking composed +enough. I resumed-- + +"Your mother was my father's sister?" + +"Yes." + +"My aunt, consequently?" + +He bowed. + +"My uncle John was your uncle John? You, Diana, and Mary are his +sister's children, as I am his brother's child?" + +"Undeniably." + +"You three, then, are my cousins; half our blood on each side flows from +the same source?" + +"We are cousins; yes." + +I surveyed him. It seemed I had found a brother: one I could be proud +of,--one I could love; and two sisters, whose qualities were such, that, +when I knew them but as mere strangers, they had inspired me with genuine +affection and admiration. The two girls, on whom, kneeling down on the +wet ground, and looking through the low, latticed window of Moor House +kitchen, I had gazed with so bitter a mixture of interest and despair, +were my near kinswomen; and the young and stately gentleman who had found +me almost dying at his threshold was my blood relation. Glorious +discovery to a lonely wretch! This was wealth indeed!--wealth to the +heart!--a mine of pure, genial affections. This was a blessing, bright, +vivid, and exhilarating;--not like the ponderous gift of gold: rich and +welcome enough in its way, but sobering from its weight. I now clapped +my hands in sudden joy--my pulse bounded, my veins thrilled. + +"Oh, I am glad!--I am glad!" I exclaimed. + +St. John smiled. "Did I not say you neglected essential points to pursue +trifles?" he asked. "You were serious when I told you you had got a +fortune; and now, for a matter of no moment, you are excited." + +"What can you mean? It may be of no moment to you; you have sisters and +don't care for a cousin; but I had nobody; and now three relations,--or +two, if you don't choose to be counted,--are born into my world +full-grown. I say again, I am glad!" + +I walked fast through the room: I stopped, half suffocated with the +thoughts that rose faster than I could receive, comprehend, settle +them:--thoughts of what might, could, would, and should be, and that ere +long. I looked at the blank wall: it seemed a sky thick with ascending +stars,--every one lit me to a purpose or delight. Those who had saved my +life, whom, till this hour, I had loved barrenly, I could now benefit. +They were under a yoke,--I could free them: they were scattered,--I could +reunite them: the independence, the affluence which was mine, might be +theirs too. Were we not four? Twenty thousand pounds shared equally +would be five thousand each, justice--enough and to spare: justice would +be done,--mutual happiness secured. Now the wealth did not weigh on me: +now it was not a mere bequest of coin,--it was a legacy of life, hope, +enjoyment. + +How I looked while these ideas were taking my spirit by storm, I cannot +tell; but I perceived soon that Mr. Rivers had placed a chair behind me, +and was gently attempting to make me sit down on it. He also advised me +to be composed; I scorned the insinuation of helplessness and +distraction, shook off his hand, and began to walk about again. + +"Write to Diana and Mary to-morrow," I said, "and tell them to come home +directly. Diana said they would both consider themselves rich with a +thousand pounds, so with five thousand they will do very well." + +"Tell me where I can get you a glass of water," said St. John; "you must +really make an effort to tranquillise your feelings." + +"Nonsense! and what sort of an effect will the bequest have on you? Will +it keep you in England, induce you to marry Miss Oliver, and settle down +like an ordinary mortal?" + +"You wander: your head becomes confused. I have been too abrupt in +communicating the news; it has excited you beyond your strength." + +"Mr. Rivers! you quite put me out of patience: I am rational enough; it +is you who misunderstand, or rather who affect to misunderstand." + +"Perhaps, if you explained yourself a little more fully, I should +comprehend better." + +"Explain! What is there to explain? You cannot fail to see that twenty +thousand pounds, the sum in question, divided equally between the nephew +and three nieces of our uncle, will give five thousand to each? What I +want is, that you should write to your sisters and tell them of the +fortune that has accrued to them." + +"To you, you mean." + +"I have intimated my view of the case: I am incapable of taking any +other. I am not brutally selfish, blindly unjust, or fiendishly +ungrateful. Besides, I am resolved I will have a home and connections. I +like Moor House, and I will live at Moor House; I like Diana and Mary, +and I will attach myself for life to Diana and Mary. It would please and +benefit me to have five thousand pounds; it would torment and oppress me +to have twenty thousand; which, moreover, could never be mine in justice, +though it might in law. I abandon to you, then, what is absolutely +superfluous to me. Let there be no opposition, and no discussion about +it; let us agree amongst each other, and decide the point at once." + +"This is acting on first impulses; you must take days to consider such a +matter, ere your word can be regarded as valid." + +"Oh! if all you doubt is my sincerity, I am easy: you see the justice of +the case?" + +"I _do_ see a certain justice; but it is contrary to all custom. Besides, +the entire fortune is your right: my uncle gained it by his own efforts; +he was free to leave it to whom he would: he left it to you. After all, +justice permits you to keep it: you may, with a clear conscience, +consider it absolutely your own." + +"With me," said I, "it is fully as much a matter of feeling as of +conscience: I must indulge my feelings; I so seldom have had an +opportunity of doing so. Were you to argue, object, and annoy me for a +year, I could not forego the delicious pleasure of which I have caught a +glimpse--that of repaying, in part, a mighty obligation, and winning to +myself lifelong friends." + +"You think so now," rejoined St. John, "because you do not know what it +is to possess, nor consequently to enjoy wealth: you cannot form a notion +of the importance twenty thousand pounds would give you; of the place it +would enable you to take in society; of the prospects it would open to +you: you cannot--" + +"And you," I interrupted, "cannot at all imagine the craving I have for +fraternal and sisterly love. I never had a home, I never had brothers or +sisters; I must and will have them now: you are not reluctant to admit me +and own me, are you?" + +"Jane, I will be your brother--my sisters will be your sisters--without +stipulating for this sacrifice of your just rights." + +"Brother? Yes; at the distance of a thousand leagues! Sisters? Yes; +slaving amongst strangers! I, wealthy--gorged with gold I never earned +and do not merit! You, penniless! Famous equality and fraternisation! +Close union! Intimate attachment!" + +"But, Jane, your aspirations after family ties and domestic happiness may +be realised otherwise than by the means you contemplate: you may marry." + +"Nonsense, again! Marry! I don't want to marry, and never shall marry." + +"That is saying too much: such hazardous affirmations are a proof of the +excitement under which you labour." + +"It is not saying too much: I know what I feel, and how averse are my +inclinations to the bare thought of marriage. No one would take me for +love; and I will not be regarded in the light of a mere money +speculation. And I do not want a stranger--unsympathising, alien, +different from me; I want my kindred: those with whom I have full fellow- +feeling. Say again you will be my brother: when you uttered the words I +was satisfied, happy; repeat them, if you can, repeat them sincerely." + +"I think I can. I know I have always loved my own sisters; and I know on +what my affection for them is grounded,--respect for their worth and +admiration of their talents. You too have principle and mind: your +tastes and habits resemble Diana's and Mary's; your presence is always +agreeable to me; in your conversation I have already for some time found +a salutary solace. I feel I can easily and naturally make room in my +heart for you, as my third and youngest sister." + +"Thank you: that contents me for to-night. Now you had better go; for if +you stay longer, you will perhaps irritate me afresh by some mistrustful +scruple." + +"And the school, Miss Eyre? It must now be shut up, I suppose?" + +"No. I will retain my post of mistress till you get a substitute." + +He smiled approbation: we shook hands, and he took leave. + +I need not narrate in detail the further struggles I had, and arguments I +used, to get matters regarding the legacy settled as I wished. My task +was a very hard one; but, as I was absolutely resolved--as my cousins saw +at length that my mind was really and immutably fixed on making a just +division of the property--as they must in their own hearts have felt the +equity of the intention; and must, besides, have been innately conscious +that in my place they would have done precisely what I wished to do--they +yielded at length so far as to consent to put the affair to arbitration. +The judges chosen were Mr. Oliver and an able lawyer: both coincided in +my opinion: I carried my point. The instruments of transfer were drawn +out: St. John, Diana, Mary, and I, each became possessed of a competency. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + +It was near Christmas by the time all was settled: the season of general +holiday approached. I now closed Morton school, taking care that the +parting should not be barren on my side. Good fortune opens the hand as +well as the heart wonderfully; and to give somewhat when we have largely +received, is but to afford a vent to the unusual ebullition of the +sensations. I had long felt with pleasure that many of my rustic +scholars liked me, and when we parted, that consciousness was confirmed: +they manifested their affection plainly and strongly. Deep was my +gratification to find I had really a place in their unsophisticated +hearts: I promised them that never a week should pass in future that I +did not visit them, and give them an hour's teaching in their school. + +Mr. Rivers came up as, having seen the classes, now numbering sixty +girls, file out before me, and locked the door, I stood with the key in +my hand, exchanging a few words of special farewell with some half-dozen +of my best scholars: as decent, respectable, modest, and well-informed +young women as could be found in the ranks of the British peasantry. And +that is saying a great deal; for after all, the British peasantry are the +best taught, best mannered, most self-respecting of any in Europe: since +those days I have seen paysannes and Bauerinnen; and the best of them +seemed to me ignorant, coarse, and besotted, compared with my Morton +girls. + +"Do you consider you have got your reward for a season of exertion?" +asked Mr. Rivers, when they were gone. "Does not the consciousness of +having done some real good in your day and generation give pleasure?" + +"Doubtless." + +"And you have only toiled a few months! Would not a life devoted to the +task of regenerating your race be well spent?" + +"Yes," I said; "but I could not go on for ever so: I want to enjoy my own +faculties as well as to cultivate those of other people. I must enjoy +them now; don't recall either my mind or body to the school; I am out of +it and disposed for full holiday." + +He looked grave. "What now? What sudden eagerness is this you evince? +What are you going to do?" + +"To be active: as active as I can. And first I must beg you to set +Hannah at liberty, and get somebody else to wait on you." + +"Do you want her?" + +"Yes, to go with me to Moor House. Diana and Mary will be at home in a +week, and I want to have everything in order against their arrival." + +"I understand. I thought you were for flying off on some excursion. It +is better so: Hannah shall go with you." + +"Tell her to be ready by to-morrow then; and here is the schoolroom key: +I will give you the key of my cottage in the morning." + +He took it. "You give it up very gleefully," said he; "I don't quite +understand your light-heartedness, because I cannot tell what employment +you propose to yourself as a substitute for the one you are +relinquishing. What aim, what purpose, what ambition in life have you +now?" + +"My first aim will be to _clean down_ (do you comprehend the full force +of the expression?)--to _clean down_ Moor House from chamber to cellar; +my next to rub it up with bees-wax, oil, and an indefinite number of +cloths, till it glitters again; my third, to arrange every chair, table, +bed, carpet, with mathematical precision; afterwards I shall go near to +ruin you in coals and peat to keep up good fires in every room; and +lastly, the two days preceding that on which your sisters are expected +will be devoted by Hannah and me to such a beating of eggs, sorting of +currants, grating of spices, compounding of Christmas cakes, chopping up +of materials for mince-pies, and solemnising of other culinary rites, as +words can convey but an inadequate notion of to the uninitiated like you. +My purpose, in short, is to have all things in an absolutely perfect +state of readiness for Diana and Mary before next Thursday; and my +ambition is to give them a beau-ideal of a welcome when they come." + +St. John smiled slightly: still he was dissatisfied. + +"It is all very well for the present," said he; "but seriously, I trust +that when the first flush of vivacity is over, you will look a little +higher than domestic endearments and household joys." + +"The best things the world has!" I interrupted. + +"No, Jane, no: this world is not the scene of fruition; do not attempt to +make it so: nor of rest; do not turn slothful." + +"I mean, on the contrary, to be busy." + +"Jane, I excuse you for the present: two months' grace I allow you for +the full enjoyment of your new position, and for pleasing yourself with +this late-found charm of relationship; but _then_, I hope you will begin +to look beyond Moor House and Morton, and sisterly society, and the +selfish calm and sensual comfort of civilised affluence. I hope your +energies will then once more trouble you with their strength." + +I looked at him with surprise. "St. John," I said, "I think you are +almost wicked to talk so. I am disposed to be as content as a queen, and +you try to stir me up to restlessness! To what end?" + +"To the end of turning to profit the talents which God has committed to +your keeping; and of which He will surely one day demand a strict +account. Jane, I shall watch you closely and anxiously--I warn you of +that. And try to restrain the disproportionate fervour with which you +throw yourself into commonplace home pleasures. Don't cling so +tenaciously to ties of the flesh; save your constancy and ardour for an +adequate cause; forbear to waste them on trite transient objects. Do you +hear, Jane?" + +"Yes; just as if you were speaking Greek. I feel I have adequate cause +to be happy, and I _will_ be happy. Goodbye!" + +Happy at Moor House I was, and hard I worked; and so did Hannah: she was +charmed to see how jovial I could be amidst the bustle of a house turned +topsy-turvy--how I could brush, and dust, and clean, and cook. And +really, after a day or two of confusion worse confounded, it was +delightful by degrees to invoke order from the chaos ourselves had made. +I had previously taken a journey to S--- to purchase some new furniture: +my cousins having given me _carte blanche_ to effect what alterations I +pleased, and a sum having been set aside for that purpose. The ordinary +sitting-room and bedrooms I left much as they were: for I knew Diana and +Mary would derive more pleasure from seeing again the old homely tables, +and chairs, and beds, than from the spectacle of the smartest +innovations. Still some novelty was necessary, to give to their return +the piquancy with which I wished it to be invested. Dark handsome new +carpets and curtains, an arrangement of some carefully selected antique +ornaments in porcelain and bronze, new coverings, and mirrors, and +dressing-cases, for the toilet tables, answered the end: they looked +fresh without being glaring. A spare parlour and bedroom I refurnished +entirely, with old mahogany and crimson upholstery: I laid canvas on the +passage, and carpets on the stairs. When all was finished, I thought +Moor House as complete a model of bright modest snugness within, as it +was, at this season, a specimen of wintry waste and desert dreariness +without. + +The eventful Thursday at length came. They were expected about dark, and +ere dusk fires were lit upstairs and below; the kitchen was in perfect +trim; Hannah and I were dressed, and all was in readiness. + +St. John arrived first. I had entreated him to keep quite clear of the +house till everything was arranged: and, indeed, the bare idea of the +commotion, at once sordid and trivial, going on within its walls sufficed +to scare him to estrangement. He found me in the kitchen, watching the +progress of certain cakes for tea, then baking. Approaching the hearth, +he asked, "If I was at last satisfied with housemaid's work?" I answered +by inviting him to accompany me on a general inspection of the result of +my labours. With some difficulty, I got him to make the tour of the +house. He just looked in at the doors I opened; and when he had wandered +upstairs and downstairs, he said I must have gone through a great deal of +fatigue and trouble to have effected such considerable changes in so +short a time: but not a syllable did he utter indicating pleasure in the +improved aspect of his abode. + +This silence damped me. I thought perhaps the alterations had disturbed +some old associations he valued. I inquired whether this was the case: +no doubt in a somewhat crest-fallen tone. + +"Not at all; he had, on the contrary, remarked that I had scrupulously +respected every association: he feared, indeed, I must have bestowed more +thought on the matter than it was worth. How many minutes, for instance, +had I devoted to studying the arrangement of this very room?--By-the-bye, +could I tell him where such a book was?" + +I showed him the volume on the shelf: he took it down, and withdrawing to +his accustomed window recess, he began to read it. + +Now, I did not like this, reader. St. John was a good man; but I began +to feel he had spoken truth of himself when he said he was hard and cold. +The humanities and amenities of life had no attraction for him--its +peaceful enjoyments no charm. Literally, he lived only to aspire--after +what was good and great, certainly; but still he would never rest, nor +approve of others resting round him. As I looked at his lofty forehead, +still and pale as a white stone--at his fine lineaments fixed in study--I +comprehended all at once that he would hardly make a good husband: that +it would be a trying thing to be his wife. I understood, as by +inspiration, the nature of his love for Miss Oliver; I agreed with him +that it was but a love of the senses. I comprehended how he should +despise himself for the feverish influence it exercised over him; how he +should wish to stifle and destroy it; how he should mistrust its ever +conducting permanently to his happiness or hers. I saw he was of the +material from which nature hews her heroes--Christian and Pagan--her +lawgivers, her statesmen, her conquerors: a steadfast bulwark for great +interests to rest upon; but, at the fireside, too often a cold cumbrous +column, gloomy and out of place. + +"This parlour is not his sphere," I reflected: "the Himalayan ridge or +Caffre bush, even the plague-cursed Guinea Coast swamp would suit him +better. Well may he eschew the calm of domestic life; it is not his +element: there his faculties stagnate--they cannot develop or appear to +advantage. It is in scenes of strife and danger--where courage is +proved, and energy exercised, and fortitude tasked--that he will speak +and move, the leader and superior. A merry child would have the +advantage of him on this hearth. He is right to choose a missionary's +career--I see it now." + +"They are coming! they are coming!" cried Hannah, throwing open the +parlour door. At the same moment old Carlo barked joyfully. Out I ran. +It was now dark; but a rumbling of wheels was audible. Hannah soon had a +lantern lit. The vehicle had stopped at the wicket; the driver opened +the door: first one well-known form, then another, stepped out. In a +minute I had my face under their bonnets, in contact first with Mary's +soft cheek, then with Diana's flowing curls. They laughed--kissed +me--then Hannah: patted Carlo, who was half wild with delight; asked +eagerly if all was well; and being assured in the affirmative, hastened +into the house. + +They were stiff with their long and jolting drive from Whitcross, and +chilled with the frosty night air; but their pleasant countenances +expanded to the cheerful firelight. While the driver and Hannah brought +in the boxes, they demanded St. John. At this moment he advanced from +the parlour. They both threw their arms round his neck at once. He gave +each one quiet kiss, said in a low tone a few words of welcome, stood a +while to be talked to, and then, intimating that he supposed they would +soon rejoin him in the parlour, withdrew there as to a place of refuge. + +I had lit their candles to go upstairs, but Diana had first to give +hospitable orders respecting the driver; this done, both followed me. +They were delighted with the renovation and decorations of their rooms; +with the new drapery, and fresh carpets, and rich tinted china vases: +they expressed their gratification ungrudgingly. I had the pleasure of +feeling that my arrangements met their wishes exactly, and that what I +had done added a vivid charm to their joyous return home. + +Sweet was that evening. My cousins, full of exhilaration, were so +eloquent in narrative and comment, that their fluency covered St. John's +taciturnity: he was sincerely glad to see his sisters; but in their glow +of fervour and flow of joy he could not sympathise. The event of the +day--that is, the return of Diana and Mary--pleased him; but the +accompaniments of that event, the glad tumult, the garrulous glee of +reception irked him: I saw he wished the calmer morrow was come. In the +very meridian of the night's enjoyment, about an hour after tea, a rap +was heard at the door. Hannah entered with the intimation that "a poor +lad was come, at that unlikely time, to fetch Mr. Rivers to see his +mother, who was drawing away." + +"Where does she live, Hannah?" + +"Clear up at Whitcross Brow, almost four miles off, and moor and moss all +the way." + +"Tell him I will go." + +"I'm sure, sir, you had better not. It's the worst road to travel after +dark that can be: there's no track at all over the bog. And then it is +such a bitter night--the keenest wind you ever felt. You had better send +word, sir, that you will be there in the morning." + +But he was already in the passage, putting on his cloak; and without one +objection, one murmur, he departed. It was then nine o'clock: he did not +return till midnight. Starved and tired enough he was: but he looked +happier than when he set out. He had performed an act of duty; made an +exertion; felt his own strength to do and deny, and was on better terms +with himself. + +I am afraid the whole of the ensuing week tried his patience. It was +Christmas week: we took to no settled employment, but spent it in a sort +of merry domestic dissipation. The air of the moors, the freedom of +home, the dawn of prosperity, acted on Diana and Mary's spirits like some +life-giving elixir: they were gay from morning till noon, and from noon +till night. They could always talk; and their discourse, witty, pithy, +original, had such charms for me, that I preferred listening to, and +sharing in it, to doing anything else. St. John did not rebuke our +vivacity; but he escaped from it: he was seldom in the house; his parish +was large, the population scattered, and he found daily business in +visiting the sick and poor in its different districts. + +One morning at breakfast, Diana, after looking a little pensive for some +minutes, asked him, "If his plans were yet unchanged." + +"Unchanged and unchangeable," was the reply. And he proceeded to inform +us that his departure from England was now definitively fixed for the +ensuing year. + +"And Rosamond Oliver?" suggested Mary, the words seeming to escape her +lips involuntarily: for no sooner had she uttered them, than she made a +gesture as if wishing to recall them. St. John had a book in his hand--it +was his unsocial custom to read at meals--he closed it, and looked up. + +"Rosamond Oliver," said he, "is about to be married to Mr. Granby, one of +the best connected and most estimable residents in S-, grandson and heir +to Sir Frederic Granby: I had the intelligence from her father +yesterday." + +His sisters looked at each other and at me; we all three looked at him: +he was serene as glass. + +"The match must have been got up hastily," said Diana: "they cannot have +known each other long." + +"But two months: they met in October at the county ball at S-. But where +there are no obstacles to a union, as in the present case, where the +connection is in every point desirable, delays are unnecessary: they will +be married as soon as S--- Place, which Sir Frederic gives up to them, +can he refitted for their reception." + +The first time I found St. John alone after this communication, I felt +tempted to inquire if the event distressed him: but he seemed so little +to need sympathy, that, so far from venturing to offer him more, I +experienced some shame at the recollection of what I had already +hazarded. Besides, I was out of practice in talking to him: his reserve +was again frozen over, and my frankness was congealed beneath it. He had +not kept his promise of treating me like his sisters; he continually made +little chilling differences between us, which did not at all tend to the +development of cordiality: in short, now that I was acknowledged his +kinswoman, and lived under the same roof with him, I felt the distance +between us to be far greater than when he had known me only as the +village schoolmistress. When I remembered how far I had once been +admitted to his confidence, I could hardly comprehend his present +frigidity. + +Such being the case, I felt not a little surprised when he raised his +head suddenly from the desk over which he was stooping, and said-- + +"You see, Jane, the battle is fought and the victory won." + +Startled at being thus addressed, I did not immediately reply: after a +moment's hesitation I answered-- + +"But are you sure you are not in the position of those conquerors whose +triumphs have cost them too dear? Would not such another ruin you?" + +"I think not; and if I were, it does not much signify; I shall never be +called upon to contend for such another. The event of the conflict is +decisive: my way is now clear; I thank God for it!" So saying, he +returned to his papers and his silence. + +As our mutual happiness (_i.e._, Diana's, Mary's, and mine) settled into +a quieter character, and we resumed our usual habits and regular studies, +St. John stayed more at home: he sat with us in the same room, sometimes +for hours together. While Mary drew, Diana pursued a course of +encyclopaedic reading she had (to my awe and amazement) undertaken, and I +fagged away at German, he pondered a mystic lore of his own: that of some +Eastern tongue, the acquisition of which he thought necessary to his +plans. + +Thus engaged, he appeared, sitting in his own recess, quiet and absorbed +enough; but that blue eye of his had a habit of leaving the outlandish- +looking grammar, and wandering over, and sometimes fixing upon us, his +fellow-students, with a curious intensity of observation: if caught, it +would be instantly withdrawn; yet ever and anon, it returned searchingly +to our table. I wondered what it meant: I wondered, too, at the punctual +satisfaction he never failed to exhibit on an occasion that seemed to me +of small moment, namely, my weekly visit to Morton school; and still more +was I puzzled when, if the day was unfavourable, if there was snow, or +rain, or high wind, and his sisters urged me not to go, he would +invariably make light of their solicitude, and encourage me to accomplish +the task without regard to the elements. + +"Jane is not such a weakling as you would make her," he would say: "she +can bear a mountain blast, or a shower, or a few flakes of snow, as well +as any of us. Her constitution is both sound and elastic;--better +calculated to endure variations of climate than many more robust." + +And when I returned, sometimes a good deal tired, and not a little +weather-beaten, I never dared complain, because I saw that to murmur +would be to vex him: on all occasions fortitude pleased him; the reverse +was a special annoyance. + +One afternoon, however, I got leave to stay at home, because I really had +a cold. His sisters were gone to Morton in my stead: I sat reading +Schiller; he, deciphering his crabbed Oriental scrolls. As I exchanged a +translation for an exercise, I happened to look his way: there I found +myself under the influence of the ever-watchful blue eye. How long it +had been searching me through and through, and over and over, I cannot +tell: so keen was it, and yet so cold, I felt for the moment +superstitious--as if I were sitting in the room with something uncanny. + +"Jane, what are you doing?" + +"Learning German." + +"I want you to give up German and learn Hindostanee." + +"You are not in earnest?" + +"In such earnest that I must have it so: and I will tell you why." + +He then went on to explain that Hindostanee was the language he was +himself at present studying; that, as he advanced, he was apt to forget +the commencement; that it would assist him greatly to have a pupil with +whom he might again and again go over the elements, and so fix them +thoroughly in his mind; that his choice had hovered for some time between +me and his sisters; but that he had fixed on me because he saw I could +sit at a task the longest of the three. Would I do him this favour? I +should not, perhaps, have to make the sacrifice long, as it wanted now +barely three months to his departure. + +St. John was not a man to be lightly refused: you felt that every +impression made on him, either for pain or pleasure, was deep-graved and +permanent. I consented. When Diana and Mary returned, the former found +her scholar transferred from her to her brother: she laughed, and both +she and Mary agreed that St. John should never have persuaded them to +such a step. He answered quietly-- + +"I know it." + +I found him a very patient, very forbearing, and yet an exacting master: +he expected me to do a great deal; and when I fulfilled his expectations, +he, in his own way, fully testified his approbation. By degrees, he +acquired a certain influence over me that took away my liberty of mind: +his praise and notice were more restraining than his indifference. I +could no longer talk or laugh freely when he was by, because a tiresomely +importunate instinct reminded me that vivacity (at least in me) was +distasteful to him. I was so fully aware that only serious moods and +occupations were acceptable, that in his presence every effort to sustain +or follow any other became vain: I fell under a freezing spell. When he +said "go," I went; "come," I came; "do this," I did it. But I did not +love my servitude: I wished, many a time, he had continued to neglect me. + +One evening when, at bedtime, his sisters and I stood round him, bidding +him good-night, he kissed each of them, as was his custom; and, as was +equally his custom, he gave me his hand. Diana, who chanced to be in a +frolicsome humour (_she_ was not painfully controlled by his will; for +hers, in another way, was as strong), exclaimed-- + +"St. John! you used to call Jane your third sister, but you don't treat +her as such: you should kiss her too." + +She pushed me towards him. I thought Diana very provoking, and felt +uncomfortably confused; and while I was thus thinking and feeling, St. +John bent his head; his Greek face was brought to a level with mine, his +eyes questioned my eyes piercingly--he kissed me. There are no such +things as marble kisses or ice kisses, or I should say my ecclesiastical +cousin's salute belonged to one of these classes; but there may be +experiment kisses, and his was an experiment kiss. When given, he viewed +me to learn the result; it was not striking: I am sure I did not blush; +perhaps I might have turned a little pale, for I felt as if this kiss +were a seal affixed to my fetters. He never omitted the ceremony +afterwards, and the gravity and quiescence with which I underwent it, +seemed to invest it for him with a certain charm. + +As for me, I daily wished more to please him; but to do so, I felt daily +more and more that I must disown half my nature, stifle half my +faculties, wrest my tastes from their original bent, force myself to the +adoption of pursuits for which I had no natural vocation. He wanted to +train me to an elevation I could never reach; it racked me hourly to +aspire to the standard he uplifted. The thing was as impossible as to +mould my irregular features to his correct and classic pattern, to give +to my changeable green eyes the sea-blue tint and solemn lustre of his +own. + +Not his ascendancy alone, however, held me in thrall at present. Of late +it had been easy enough for me to look sad: a cankering evil sat at my +heart and drained my happiness at its source--the evil of suspense. + +Perhaps you think I had forgotten Mr. Rochester, reader, amidst these +changes of place and fortune. Not for a moment. His idea was still with +me, because it was not a vapour sunshine could disperse, nor a +sand-traced effigy storms could wash away; it was a name graven on a +tablet, fated to last as long as the marble it inscribed. The craving to +know what had become of him followed me everywhere; when I was at Morton, +I re-entered my cottage every evening to think of that; and now at Moor +House, I sought my bedroom each night to brood over it. + +In the course of my necessary correspondence with Mr. Briggs about the +will, I had inquired if he knew anything of Mr. Rochester's present +residence and state of health; but, as St. John had conjectured, he was +quite ignorant of all concerning him. I then wrote to Mrs. Fairfax, +entreating information on the subject. I had calculated with certainty +on this step answering my end: I felt sure it would elicit an early +answer. I was astonished when a fortnight passed without reply; but when +two months wore away, and day after day the post arrived and brought +nothing for me, I fell a prey to the keenest anxiety. + +I wrote again: there was a chance of my first letter having missed. +Renewed hope followed renewed effort: it shone like the former for some +weeks, then, like it, it faded, flickered: not a line, not a word reached +me. When half a year wasted in vain expectancy, my hope died out, and +then I felt dark indeed. + +A fine spring shone round me, which I could not enjoy. Summer +approached; Diana tried to cheer me: she said I looked ill, and wished to +accompany me to the sea-side. This St. John opposed; he said I did not +want dissipation, I wanted employment; my present life was too +purposeless, I required an aim; and, I suppose, by way of supplying +deficiencies, he prolonged still further my lessons in Hindostanee, and +grew more urgent in requiring their accomplishment: and I, like a fool, +never thought of resisting him--I could not resist him. + +One day I had come to my studies in lower spirits than usual; the ebb was +occasioned by a poignantly felt disappointment. Hannah had told me in +the morning there was a letter for me, and when I went down to take it, +almost certain that the long-looked for tidings were vouchsafed me at +last, I found only an unimportant note from Mr. Briggs on business. The +bitter check had wrung from me some tears; and now, as I sat poring over +the crabbed characters and flourishing tropes of an Indian scribe, my +eyes filled again. + +St. John called me to his side to read; in attempting to do this my voice +failed me: words were lost in sobs. He and I were the only occupants of +the parlour: Diana was practising her music in the drawing-room, Mary was +gardening--it was a very fine May day, clear, sunny, and breezy. My +companion expressed no surprise at this emotion, nor did he question me +as to its cause; he only said-- + +"We will wait a few minutes, Jane, till you are more composed." And +while I smothered the paroxysm with all haste, he sat calm and patient, +leaning on his desk, and looking like a physician watching with the eye +of science an expected and fully understood crisis in a patient's malady. +Having stifled my sobs, wiped my eyes, and muttered something about not +being very well that morning, I resumed my task, and succeeded in +completing it. St. John put away my books and his, locked his desk, and +said-- + +"Now, Jane, you shall take a walk; and with me." + +"I will call Diana and Mary." + +"No; I want only one companion this morning, and that must be you. Put +on your things; go out by the kitchen-door: take the road towards the +head of Marsh Glen: I will join you in a moment." + +I know no medium: I never in my life have known any medium in my dealings +with positive, hard characters, antagonistic to my own, between absolute +submission and determined revolt. I have always faithfully observed the +one, up to the very moment of bursting, sometimes with volcanic +vehemence, into the other; and as neither present circumstances +warranted, nor my present mood inclined me to mutiny, I observed careful +obedience to St. John's directions; and in ten minutes I was treading the +wild track of the glen, side by side with him. + +The breeze was from the west: it came over the hills, sweet with scents +of heath and rush; the sky was of stainless blue; the stream descending +the ravine, swelled with past spring rains, poured along plentiful and +clear, catching golden gleams from the sun, and sapphire tints from the +firmament. As we advanced and left the track, we trod a soft turf, mossy +fine and emerald green, minutely enamelled with a tiny white flower, and +spangled with a star-like yellow blossom: the hills, meantime, shut us +quite in; for the glen, towards its head, wound to their very core. + +"Let us rest here," said St. John, as we reached the first stragglers of +a battalion of rocks, guarding a sort of pass, beyond which the beck +rushed down a waterfall; and where, still a little farther, the mountain +shook off turf and flower, had only heath for raiment and crag for +gem--where it exaggerated the wild to the savage, and exchanged the fresh +for the frowning--where it guarded the forlorn hope of solitude, and a +last refuge for silence. + +I took a seat: St. John stood near me. He looked up the pass and down +the hollow; his glance wandered away with the stream, and returned to +traverse the unclouded heaven which coloured it: he removed his hat, let +the breeze stir his hair and kiss his brow. He seemed in communion with +the genius of the haunt: with his eye he bade farewell to something. + +"And I shall see it again," he said aloud, "in dreams when I sleep by the +Ganges: and again in a more remote hour--when another slumber overcomes +me--on the shore of a darker stream!" + +Strange words of a strange love! An austere patriot's passion for his +fatherland! He sat down; for half-an-hour we never spoke; neither he to +me nor I to him: that interval past, he recommenced-- + +"Jane, I go in six weeks; I have taken my berth in an East Indiaman which +sails on the 20th of June." + +"God will protect you; for you have undertaken His work," I answered. + +"Yes," said he, "there is my glory and joy. I am the servant of an +infallible Master. I am not going out under human guidance, subject to +the defective laws and erring control of my feeble fellow-worms: my king, +my lawgiver, my captain, is the All-perfect. It seems strange to me that +all round me do not burn to enlist under the same banner,--to join in the +same enterprise." + +"All have not your powers, and it would be folly for the feeble to wish +to march with the strong." + +"I do not speak to the feeble, or think of them: I address only such as +are worthy of the work, and competent to accomplish it." + +"Those are few in number, and difficult to discover." + +"You say truly; but when found, it is right to stir them up--to urge and +exhort them to the effort--to show them what their gifts are, and why +they were given--to speak Heaven's message in their ear,--to offer them, +direct from God, a place in the ranks of His chosen." + +"If they are really qualified for the task, will not their own hearts be +the first to inform them of it?" + +I felt as if an awful charm was framing round and gathering over me: I +trembled to hear some fatal word spoken which would at once declare and +rivet the spell. + +"And what does _your_ heart say?" demanded St. John. + +"My heart is mute,--my heart is mute," I answered, struck and thrilled. + +"Then I must speak for it," continued the deep, relentless voice. "Jane, +come with me to India: come as my helpmeet and fellow-labourer." + +The glen and sky spun round: the hills heaved! It was as if I had heard +a summons from Heaven--as if a visionary messenger, like him of +Macedonia, had enounced, "Come over and help us!" But I was no +apostle,--I could not behold the herald,--I could not receive his call. + +"Oh, St. John!" I cried, "have some mercy!" + +I appealed to one who, in the discharge of what he believed his duty, +knew neither mercy nor remorse. He continued-- + +"God and nature intended you for a missionary's wife. It is not +personal, but mental endowments they have given you: you are formed for +labour, not for love. A missionary's wife you must--shall be. You shall +be mine: I claim you--not for my pleasure, but for my Sovereign's +service." + +"I am not fit for it: I have no vocation," I said. + +He had calculated on these first objections: he was not irritated by +them. Indeed, as he leaned back against the crag behind him, folded his +arms on his chest, and fixed his countenance, I saw he was prepared for a +long and trying opposition, and had taken in a stock of patience to last +him to its close--resolved, however, that that close should be conquest +for him. + +"Humility, Jane," said he, "is the groundwork of Christian virtues: you +say right that you are not fit for the work. Who is fit for it? Or who, +that ever was truly called, believed himself worthy of the summons? I, +for instance, am but dust and ashes. With St. Paul, I acknowledge myself +the chiefest of sinners; but I do not suffer this sense of my personal +vileness to daunt me. I know my Leader: that He is just as well as +mighty; and while He has chosen a feeble instrument to perform a great +task, He will, from the boundless stores of His providence, supply the +inadequacy of the means to the end. Think like me, Jane--trust like me. +It is the Rock of Ages I ask you to lean on: do not doubt but it will +bear the weight of your human weakness." + +"I do not understand a missionary life: I have never studied missionary +labours." + +"There I, humble as I am, can give you the aid you want: I can set you +your task from hour to hour; stand by you always; help you from moment to +moment. This I could do in the beginning: soon (for I know your powers) +you would be as strong and apt as myself, and would not require my help." + +"But my powers--where are they for this undertaking? I do not feel them. +Nothing speaks or stirs in me while you talk. I am sensible of no light +kindling--no life quickening--no voice counselling or cheering. Oh, I +wish I could make you see how much my mind is at this moment like a +rayless dungeon, with one shrinking fear fettered in its depths--the fear +of being persuaded by you to attempt what I cannot accomplish!" + +"I have an answer for you--hear it. I have watched you ever since we +first met: I have made you my study for ten months. I have proved you in +that time by sundry tests: and what have I seen and elicited? In the +village school I found you could perform well, punctually, uprightly, +labour uncongenial to your habits and inclinations; I saw you could +perform it with capacity and tact: you could win while you controlled. In +the calm with which you learnt you had become suddenly rich, I read a +mind clear of the vice of Demas:--lucre had no undue power over you. In +the resolute readiness with which you cut your wealth into four shares, +keeping but one to yourself, and relinquishing the three others to the +claim of abstract justice, I recognised a soul that revelled in the flame +and excitement of sacrifice. In the tractability with which, at my wish, +you forsook a study in which you were interested, and adopted another +because it interested me; in the untiring assiduity with which you have +since persevered in it--in the unflagging energy and unshaken temper with +which you have met its difficulties--I acknowledge the complement of the +qualities I seek. Jane, you are docile, diligent, disinterested, +faithful, constant, and courageous; very gentle, and very heroic: cease +to mistrust yourself--I can trust you unreservedly. As a conductress of +Indian schools, and a helper amongst Indian women, your assistance will +be to me invaluable." + +My iron shroud contracted round me; persuasion advanced with slow sure +step. Shut my eyes as I would, these last words of his succeeded in +making the way, which had seemed blocked up, comparatively clear. My +work, which had appeared so vague, so hopelessly diffuse, condensed +itself as he proceeded, and assumed a definite form under his shaping +hand. He waited for an answer. I demanded a quarter of an hour to +think, before I again hazarded a reply. + +"Very willingly," he rejoined; and rising, he strode a little distance up +the pass, threw himself down on a swell of heath, and there lay still. + +{He threw himself down on a swell of heath, and there lay still: +p389.jpg} + +"I _can_ do what he wants me to do: I am forced to see and acknowledge +that," I meditated,--"that is, if life be spared me. But I feel mine is +not the existence to be long protracted under an Indian sun. What then? +He does not care for that: when my time came to die, he would resign me, +in all serenity and sanctity, to the God who gave me. The case is very +plain before me. In leaving England, I should leave a loved but empty +land--Mr. Rochester is not there; and if he were, what is, what can that +ever be to me? My business is to live without him now: nothing so +absurd, so weak as to drag on from day to day, as if I were waiting some +impossible change in circumstances, which might reunite me to him. Of +course (as St. John once said) I must seek another interest in life to +replace the one lost: is not the occupation he now offers me truly the +most glorious man can adopt or God assign? Is it not, by its noble cares +and sublime results, the one best calculated to fill the void left by +uptorn affections and demolished hopes? I believe I must say, Yes--and +yet I shudder. Alas! If I join St. John, I abandon half myself: if I go +to India, I go to premature death. And how will the interval between +leaving England for India, and India for the grave, be filled? Oh, I +know well! That, too, is very clear to my vision. By straining to +satisfy St. John till my sinews ache, I _shall_ satisfy him--to the +finest central point and farthest outward circle of his expectations. If +I _do_ go with him--if I _do_ make the sacrifice he urges, I will make it +absolutely: I will throw all on the altar--heart, vitals, the entire +victim. He will never love me; but he shall approve me; I will show him +energies he has not yet seen, resources he has never suspected. Yes, I +can work as hard as he can, and with as little grudging. + +"Consent, then, to his demand is possible: but for one item--one dreadful +item. It is--that he asks me to be his wife, and has no more of a +husband's heart for me than that frowning giant of a rock, down which the +stream is foaming in yonder gorge. He prizes me as a soldier would a +good weapon; and that is all. Unmarried to him, this would never grieve +me; but can I let him complete his calculations--coolly put into practice +his plans--go through the wedding ceremony? Can I receive from him the +bridal ring, endure all the forms of love (which I doubt not he would +scrupulously observe) and know that the spirit was quite absent? Can I +bear the consciousness that every endearment he bestows is a sacrifice +made on principle? No: such a martyrdom would be monstrous. I will +never undergo it. As his sister, I might accompany him--not as his wife: +I will tell him so." + +I looked towards the knoll: there he lay, still as a prostrate column; +his face turned to me: his eye beaming watchful and keen. He started to +his feet and approached me. + +"I am ready to go to India, if I may go free." + +"Your answer requires a commentary," he said; "it is not clear." + +"You have hitherto been my adopted brother--I, your adopted sister: let +us continue as such: you and I had better not marry." + +He shook his head. "Adopted fraternity will not do in this case. If you +were my real sister it would be different: I should take you, and seek no +wife. But as it is, either our union must be consecrated and sealed by +marriage, or it cannot exist: practical obstacles oppose themselves to +any other plan. Do you not see it, Jane? Consider a moment--your strong +sense will guide you." + +I did consider; and still my sense, such as it was, directed me only to +the fact that we did not love each other as man and wife should: and +therefore it inferred we ought not to marry. I said so. "St. John," I +returned, "I regard you as a brother--you, me as a sister: so let us +continue." + +"We cannot--we cannot," he answered, with short, sharp determination: "it +would not do. You have said you will go with me to India: remember--you +have said that." + +"Conditionally." + +"Well--well. To the main point--the departure with me from England, the +co-operation with me in my future labours--you do not object. You have +already as good as put your hand to the plough: you are too consistent to +withdraw it. You have but one end to keep in view--how the work you have +undertaken can best be done. Simplify your complicated interests, +feelings, thoughts, wishes, aims; merge all considerations in one +purpose: that of fulfilling with effect--with power--the mission of your +great Master. To do so, you must have a coadjutor: not a brother--that +is a loose tie--but a husband. I, too, do not want a sister: a sister +might any day be taken from me. I want a wife: the sole helpmeet I can +influence efficiently in life, and retain absolutely till death." + +I shuddered as he spoke: I felt his influence in my marrow--his hold on +my limbs. + +"Seek one elsewhere than in me, St. John: seek one fitted to you." + +"One fitted to my purpose, you mean--fitted to my vocation. Again I tell +you it is not the insignificant private individual--the mere man, with +the man's selfish senses--I wish to mate: it is the missionary." + +"And I will give the missionary my energies--it is all he wants--but not +myself: that would be only adding the husk and shell to the kernel. For +them he has no use: I retain them." + +"You cannot--you ought not. Do you think God will be satisfied with half +an oblation? Will He accept a mutilated sacrifice? It is the cause of +God I advocate: it is under His standard I enlist you. I cannot accept +on His behalf a divided allegiance: it must be entire." + +"Oh! I will give my heart to God," I said. "_You_ do not want it." + +I will not swear, reader, that there was not something of repressed +sarcasm both in the tone in which I uttered this sentence, and in the +feeling that accompanied it. I had silently feared St. John till now, +because I had not understood him. He had held me in awe, because he had +held me in doubt. How much of him was saint, how much mortal, I could +not heretofore tell: but revelations were being made in this conference: +the analysis of his nature was proceeding before my eyes. I saw his +fallibilities: I comprehended them. I understood that, sitting there +where I did, on the bank of heath, and with that handsome form before me, +I sat at the feet of a man, caring as I. The veil fell from his hardness +and despotism. Having felt in him the presence of these qualities, I +felt his imperfection and took courage. I was with an equal--one with +whom I might argue--one whom, if I saw good, I might resist. + +He was silent after I had uttered the last sentence, and I presently +risked an upward glance at his countenance. + +His eye, bent on me, expressed at once stern surprise and keen inquiry. +"Is she sarcastic, and sarcastic to _me_!" it seemed to say. "What does +this signify?" + +"Do not let us forget that this is a solemn matter," he said ere long; +"one of which we may neither think nor talk lightly without sin. I +trust, Jane, you are in earnest when you say you will serve your heart to +God: it is all I want. Once wrench your heart from man, and fix it on +your Maker, the advancement of that Maker's spiritual kingdom on earth +will be your chief delight and endeavour; you will be ready to do at once +whatever furthers that end. You will see what impetus would be given to +your efforts and mine by our physical and mental union in marriage: the +only union that gives a character of permanent conformity to the +destinies and designs of human beings; and, passing over all minor +caprices--all trivial difficulties and delicacies of feeling--all scruple +about the degree, kind, strength or tenderness of mere personal +inclination--you will hasten to enter into that union at once." + +"Shall I?" I said briefly; and I looked at his features, beautiful in +their harmony, but strangely formidable in their still severity; at his +brow, commanding but not open; at his eyes, bright and deep and +searching, but never soft; at his tall imposing figure; and fancied +myself in idea _his wife_. Oh! it would never do! As his curate, his +comrade, all would be right: I would cross oceans with him in that +capacity; toil under Eastern suns, in Asian deserts with him in that +office; admire and emulate his courage and devotion and vigour; +accommodate quietly to his masterhood; smile undisturbed at his +ineradicable ambition; discriminate the Christian from the man: +profoundly esteem the one, and freely forgive the other. I should suffer +often, no doubt, attached to him only in this capacity: my body would be +under rather a stringent yoke, but my heart and mind would be free. I +should still have my unblighted self to turn to: my natural unenslaved +feelings with which to communicate in moments of loneliness. There would +be recesses in my mind which would be only mine, to which he never came, +and sentiments growing there fresh and sheltered which his austerity +could never blight, nor his measured warrior-march trample down: but as +his wife--at his side always, and always restrained, and always +checked--forced to keep the fire of my nature continually low, to compel +it to burn inwardly and never utter a cry, though the imprisoned flame +consumed vital after vital--_this_ would be unendurable. + +"St. John!" I exclaimed, when I had got so far in my meditation. + +"Well?" he answered icily. + +"I repeat I freely consent to go with you as your fellow-missionary, but +not as your wife; I cannot marry you and become part of you." + +"A part of me you must become," he answered steadily; "otherwise the +whole bargain is void. How can I, a man not yet thirty, take out with me +to India a girl of nineteen, unless she be married to me? How can we be +for ever together--sometimes in solitudes, sometimes amidst savage +tribes--and unwed?" + +"Very well," I said shortly; "under the circumstances, quite as well as +if I were either your real sister, or a man and a clergyman like +yourself." + +"It is known that you are not my sister; I cannot introduce you as such: +to attempt it would be to fasten injurious suspicions on us both. And +for the rest, though you have a man's vigorous brain, you have a woman's +heart and--it would not do." + +"It would do," I affirmed with some disdain, "perfectly well. I have a +woman's heart, but not where you are concerned; for you I have only a +comrade's constancy; a fellow-soldier's frankness, fidelity, fraternity, +if you like; a neophyte's respect and submission to his hierophant: +nothing more--don't fear." + +"It is what I want," he said, speaking to himself; "it is just what I +want. And there are obstacles in the way: they must be hewn down. Jane, +you would not repent marrying me--be certain of that; we _must_ be +married. I repeat it: there is no other way; and undoubtedly enough of +love would follow upon marriage to render the union right even in your +eyes." + +"I scorn your idea of love," I could not help saying, as I rose up and +stood before him, leaning my back against the rock. "I scorn the +counterfeit sentiment you offer: yes, St. John, and I scorn you when you +offer it." + +He looked at me fixedly, compressing his well-cut lips while he did so. +Whether he was incensed or surprised, or what, it was not easy to tell: +he could command his countenance thoroughly. + +"I scarcely expected to hear that expression from you," he said: "I think +I have done and uttered nothing to deserve scorn." + +I was touched by his gentle tone, and overawed by his high, calm mien. + +"Forgive me the words, St. John; but it is your own fault that I have +been roused to speak so unguardedly. You have introduced a topic on +which our natures are at variance--a topic we should never discuss: the +very name of love is an apple of discord between us. If the reality were +required, what should we do? How should we feel? My dear cousin, +abandon your scheme of marriage--forget it." + +"No," said he; "it is a long-cherished scheme, and the only one which can +secure my great end: but I shall urge you no further at present. +To-morrow, I leave home for Cambridge: I have many friends there to whom +I should wish to say farewell. I shall be absent a fortnight--take that +space of time to consider my offer: and do not forget that if you reject +it, it is not me you deny, but God. Through my means, He opens to you a +noble career; as my wife only can you enter upon it. Refuse to be my +wife, and you limit yourself for ever to a track of selfish ease and +barren obscurity. Tremble lest in that case you should be numbered with +those who have denied the faith, and are worse than infidels!" + +He had done. Turning from me, he once more + + "Looked to river, looked to hill." + +But this time his feelings were all pent in his heart: I was not worthy +to hear them uttered. As I walked by his side homeward, I read well in +his iron silence all he felt towards me: the disappointment of an austere +and despotic nature, which has met resistance where it expected +submission--the disapprobation of a cool, inflexible judgment, which has +detected in another feelings and views in which it has no power to +sympathise: in short, as a man, he would have wished to coerce me into +obedience: it was only as a sincere Christian he bore so patiently with +my perversity, and allowed so long a space for reflection and repentance. + +That night, after he had kissed his sisters, he thought proper to forget +even to shake hands with me, but left the room in silence. I--who, +though I had no love, had much friendship for him--was hurt by the marked +omission: so much hurt that tears started to my eyes. + +"I see you and St. John have been quarrelling, Jane," said Diana, "during +your walk on the moor. But go after him; he is now lingering in the +passage expecting you--he will make it up." + +I have not much pride under such circumstances: I would always rather be +happy than dignified; and I ran after him--he stood at the foot of the +stairs. + +"Good-night, St. John," said I. + +"Good-night, Jane," he replied calmly. + +"Then shake hands," I added. + +What a cold, loose touch, he impressed on my fingers! He was deeply +displeased by what had occurred that day; cordiality would not warm, nor +tears move him. No happy reconciliation was to be had with him--no +cheering smile or generous word: but still the Christian was patient and +placid; and when I asked him if he forgave me, he answered that he was +not in the habit of cherishing the remembrance of vexation; that he had +nothing to forgive, not having been offended. + +And with that answer he left me. I would much rather he had knocked me +down. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +He did not leave for Cambridge the next day, as he had said he would. He +deferred his departure a whole week, and during that time he made me feel +what severe punishment a good yet stern, a conscientious yet implacable +man can inflict on one who has offended him. Without one overt act of +hostility, one upbraiding word, he contrived to impress me momently with +the conviction that I was put beyond the pale of his favour. + +Not that St. John harboured a spirit of unchristian vindictiveness--not +that he would have injured a hair of my head, if it had been fully in his +power to do so. Both by nature and principle, he was superior to the +mean gratification of vengeance: he had forgiven me for saying I scorned +him and his love, but he had not forgotten the words; and as long as he +and I lived he never would forget them. I saw by his look, when he +turned to me, that they were always written on the air between me and +him; whenever I spoke, they sounded in my voice to his ear, and their +echo toned every answer he gave me. + +He did not abstain from conversing with me: he even called me as usual +each morning to join him at his desk; and I fear the corrupt man within +him had a pleasure unimparted to, and unshared by, the pure Christian, in +evincing with what skill he could, while acting and speaking apparently +just as usual, extract from every deed and every phrase the spirit of +interest and approval which had formerly communicated a certain austere +charm to his language and manner. To me, he was in reality become no +longer flesh, but marble; his eye was a cold, bright, blue gem; his +tongue a speaking instrument--nothing more. + +All this was torture to me--refined, lingering torture. It kept up a +slow fire of indignation and a trembling trouble of grief, which harassed +and crushed me altogether. I felt how--if I were his wife, this good +man, pure as the deep sunless source, could soon kill me, without drawing +from my veins a single drop of blood, or receiving on his own crystal +conscience the faintest stain of crime. Especially I felt this when I +made any attempt to propitiate him. No ruth met my ruth. _He_ +experienced no suffering from estrangement--no yearning after +reconciliation; and though, more than once, my fast falling tears +blistered the page over which we both bent, they produced no more effect +on him than if his heart had been really a matter of stone or metal. To +his sisters, meantime, he was somewhat kinder than usual: as if afraid +that mere coldness would not sufficiently convince me how completely I +was banished and banned, he added the force of contrast; and this I am +sure he did not by force, but on principle. + +The night before he left home, happening to see him walking in the garden +about sunset, and remembering, as I looked at him, that this man, +alienated as he now was, had once saved my life, and that we were near +relations, I was moved to make a last attempt to regain his friendship. I +went out and approached him as he stood leaning over the little gate; I +spoke to the point at once. + +"St. John, I am unhappy because you are still angry with me. Let us be +friends." + +"I hope we are friends," was the unmoved reply; while he still watched +the rising of the moon, which he had been contemplating as I approached. + +"No, St. John, we are not friends as we were. You know that." + +"Are we not? That is wrong. For my part, I wish you no ill and all +good." + +"I believe you, St. John; for I am sure you are incapable of wishing any +one ill; but, as I am your kinswoman, I should desire somewhat more of +affection than that sort of general philanthropy you extend to mere +strangers." + +"Of course," he said. "Your wish is reasonable, and I am far from +regarding you as a stranger." + +This, spoken in a cool, tranquil tone, was mortifying and baffling +enough. Had I attended to the suggestions of pride and ire, I should +immediately have left him; but something worked within me more strongly +than those feelings could. I deeply venerated my cousin's talent and +principle. His friendship was of value to me: to lose it tried me +severely. I would not so soon relinquish the attempt to reconquer it. + +"Must we part in this way, St. John? And when you go to India, will you +leave me so, without a kinder word than you have yet spoken?" + +He now turned quite from the moon and faced me. + +"When I go to India, Jane, will I leave you! What! do you not go to +India?" + +"You said I could not unless I married you." + +"And you will not marry me! You adhere to that resolution?" + +Reader, do you know, as I do, what terror those cold people can put into +the ice of their questions? How much of the fall of the avalanche is in +their anger? of the breaking up of the frozen sea in their displeasure? + +"No. St. John, I will not marry you. I adhere to my resolution." + +The avalanche had shaken and slid a little forward, but it did not yet +crash down. + +"Once more, why this refusal?" he asked. + +"Formerly," I answered, "because you did not love me; now, I reply, +because you almost hate me. If I were to marry you, you would kill me. +You are killing me now." + +His lips and cheeks turned white--quite white. + +"_I should kill you_--_I am killing you_? Your words are such as ought +not to be used: violent, unfeminine, and untrue. They betray an +unfortunate state of mind: they merit severe reproof: they would seem +inexcusable, but that it is the duty of man to forgive his fellow even +until seventy-and-seven times." + +I had finished the business now. While earnestly wishing to erase from +his mind the trace of my former offence, I had stamped on that tenacious +surface another and far deeper impression, I had burnt it in. + +"Now you will indeed hate me," I said. "It is useless to attempt to +conciliate you: I see I have made an eternal enemy of you." + +A fresh wrong did these words inflict: the worse, because they touched on +the truth. That bloodless lip quivered to a temporary spasm. I knew the +steely ire I had whetted. I was heart-wrung. + +"You utterly misinterpret my words," I said, at once seizing his hand: "I +have no intention to grieve or pain you--indeed, I have not." + +Most bitterly he smiled--most decidedly he withdrew his hand from mine. +"And now you recall your promise, and will not go to India at all, I +presume?" said he, after a considerable pause. + +"Yes, I will, as your assistant," I answered. + +A very long silence succeeded. What struggle there was in him between +Nature and Grace in this interval, I cannot tell: only singular gleams +scintillated in his eyes, and strange shadows passed over his face. He +spoke at last. + +"I before proved to you the absurdity of a single woman of your age +proposing to accompany abroad a single man of mine. I proved it to you +in such terms as, I should have thought, would have prevented your ever +again alluding to the plan. That you have done so, I regret--for your +sake." + +I interrupted him. Anything like a tangible reproach gave me courage at +once. "Keep to common sense, St. John: you are verging on nonsense. You +pretend to be shocked by what I have said. You are not really shocked: +for, with your superior mind, you cannot be either so dull or so +conceited as to misunderstand my meaning. I say again, I will be your +curate, if you like, but never your wife." + +Again he turned lividly pale; but, as before, controlled his passion +perfectly. He answered emphatically but calmly-- + +"A female curate, who is not my wife, would never suit me. With me, +then, it seems, you cannot go: but if you are sincere in your offer, I +will, while in town, speak to a married missionary, whose wife needs a +coadjutor. Your own fortune will make you independent of the Society's +aid; and thus you may still be spared the dishonour of breaking your +promise and deserting the band you engaged to join." + +Now I never had, as the reader knows, either given any formal promise or +entered into any engagement; and this language was all much too hard and +much too despotic for the occasion. I replied-- + +"There is no dishonour, no breach of promise, no desertion in the case. I +am not under the slightest obligation to go to India, especially with +strangers. With you I would have ventured much, because I admire, +confide in, and, as a sister, I love you; but I am convinced that, go +when and with whom I would, I should not live long in that climate." + +"Ah! you are afraid of yourself," he said, curling his lip. + +"I am. God did not give me my life to throw away; and to do as you wish +me would, I begin to think, be almost equivalent to committing suicide. +Moreover, before I definitively resolve on quitting England, I will know +for certain whether I cannot be of greater use by remaining in it than by +leaving it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"It would be fruitless to attempt to explain; but there is a point on +which I have long endured painful doubt, and I can go nowhere till by +some means that doubt is removed." + +"I know where your heart turns and to what it clings. The interest you +cherish is lawless and unconsecrated. Long since you ought to have +crushed it: now you should blush to allude to it. You think of Mr. +Rochester?" + +It was true. I confessed it by silence. + +"Are you going to seek Mr. Rochester?" + +"I must find out what is become of him." + +"It remains for me, then," he said, "to remember you in my prayers, and +to entreat God for you, in all earnestness, that you may not indeed +become a castaway. I had thought I recognised in you one of the chosen. +But God sees not as man sees: _His_ will be done--" + +He opened the gate, passed through it, and strayed away down the glen. He +was soon out of sight. + +On re-entering the parlour, I found Diana standing at the window, looking +very thoughtful. Diana was a great deal taller than I: she put her hand +on my shoulder, and, stooping, examined my face. + +"Jane," she said, "you are always agitated and pale now. I am sure there +is something the matter. Tell me what business St. John and you have on +hands. I have watched you this half hour from the window; you must +forgive my being such a spy, but for a long time I have fancied I hardly +know what. St. John is a strange being--" + +She paused--I did not speak: soon she resumed-- + +"That brother of mine cherishes peculiar views of some sort respecting +you, I am sure: he has long distinguished you by a notice and interest he +never showed to any one else--to what end? I wish he loved you--does he, +Jane?" + +I put her cool hand to my hot forehead; "No, Die, not one whit." + +"Then why does he follow you so with his eyes, and get you so frequently +alone with him, and keep you so continually at his side? Mary and I had +both concluded he wished you to marry him." + +"He does--he has asked me to be his wife." + +Diana clapped her hands. "That is just what we hoped and thought! And +you will marry him, Jane, won't you? And then he will stay in England." + +"Far from that, Diana; his sole idea in proposing to me is to procure a +fitting fellow-labourer in his Indian toils." + +"What! He wishes you to go to India?" + +"Yes." + +"Madness!" she exclaimed. "You would not live three months there, I am +certain. You never shall go: you have not consented, have you, Jane?" + +"I have refused to marry him--" + +"And have consequently displeased him?" she suggested. + +"Deeply: he will never forgive me, I fear: yet I offered to accompany him +as his sister." + +"It was frantic folly to do so, Jane. Think of the task you +undertook--one of incessant fatigue, where fatigue kills even the strong, +and you are weak. St. John--you know him--would urge you to +impossibilities: with him there would be no permission to rest during the +hot hours; and unfortunately, I have noticed, whatever he exacts, you +force yourself to perform. I am astonished you found courage to refuse +his hand. You do not love him then, Jane?" + +"Not as a husband." + +"Yet he is a handsome fellow." + +"And I am so plain, you see, Die. We should never suit." + +"Plain! You? Not at all. You are much too pretty, as well as too good, +to be grilled alive in Calcutta." And again she earnestly conjured me to +give up all thoughts of going out with her brother. + +"I must indeed," I said; "for when just now I repeated the offer of +serving him for a deacon, he expressed himself shocked at my want of +decency. He seemed to think I had committed an impropriety in proposing +to accompany him unmarried: as if I had not from the first hoped to find +in him a brother, and habitually regarded him as such." + +"What makes you say he does not love you, Jane?" + +"You should hear himself on the subject. He has again and again +explained that it is not himself, but his office he wishes to mate. He +has told me I am formed for labour--not for love: which is true, no +doubt. But, in my opinion, if I am not formed for love, it follows that +I am not formed for marriage. Would it not be strange, Die, to be +chained for life to a man who regarded one but as a useful tool?" + +"Insupportable--unnatural--out of the question!" + +"And then," I continued, "though I have only sisterly affection for him +now, yet, if forced to be his wife, I can imagine the possibility of +conceiving an inevitable, strange, torturing kind of love for him, +because he is so talented; and there is often a certain heroic grandeur +in his look, manner, and conversation. In that case, my lot would become +unspeakably wretched. He would not want me to love him; and if I showed +the feeling, he would make me sensible that it was a superfluity, +unrequired by him, unbecoming in me. I know he would." + +"And yet St. John is a good man," said Diana. + +"He is a good and a great man; but he forgets, pitilessly, the feelings +and claims of little people, in pursuing his own large views. It is +better, therefore, for the insignificant to keep out of his way, lest, in +his progress, he should trample them down. Here he comes! I will leave +you, Diana." And I hastened upstairs as I saw him entering the garden. + +But I was forced to meet him again at supper. During that meal he +appeared just as composed as usual. I had thought he would hardly speak +to me, and I was certain he had given up the pursuit of his matrimonial +scheme: the sequel showed I was mistaken on both points. He addressed me +precisely in his ordinary manner, or what had, of late, been his ordinary +manner--one scrupulously polite. No doubt he had invoked the help of the +Holy Spirit to subdue the anger I had roused in him, and now believed he +had forgiven me once more. + +For the evening reading before prayers, he selected the twenty-first +chapter of Revelation. It was at all times pleasant to listen while from +his lips fell the words of the Bible: never did his fine voice sound at +once so sweet and full--never did his manner become so impressive in its +noble simplicity, as when he delivered the oracles of God: and to-night +that voice took a more solemn tone--that manner a more thrilling +meaning--as he sat in the midst of his household circle (the May moon +shining in through the uncurtained window, and rendering almost +unnecessary the light of the candle on the table): as he sat there, +bending over the great old Bible, and described from its page the vision +of the new heaven and the new earth--told how God would come to dwell +with men, how He would wipe away all tears from their eyes, and promised +that there should be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, nor any +more pain, because the former things were passed away. + +The succeeding words thrilled me strangely as he spoke them: especially +as I felt, by the slight, indescribable alteration in sound, that in +uttering them, his eye had turned on me. + +"He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and +he shall be my son. But," was slowly, distinctly read, "the fearful, the +unbelieving, &c., shall have their part in the lake which burneth with +fire and brimstone, which is the second death." + +Henceforward, I knew what fate St. John feared for me. + +A calm, subdued triumph, blent with a longing earnestness, marked his +enunciation of the last glorious verses of that chapter. The reader +believed his name was already written in the Lamb's book of life, and he +yearned after the hour which should admit him to the city to which the +kings of the earth bring their glory and honour; which has no need of sun +or moon to shine in it, because the glory of God lightens it, and the +Lamb is the light thereof. + +In the prayer following the chapter, all his energy gathered--all his +stern zeal woke: he was in deep earnest, wrestling with God, and resolved +on a conquest. He supplicated strength for the weak-hearted; guidance +for wanderers from the fold: a return, even at the eleventh hour, for +those whom the temptations of the world and the flesh were luring from +the narrow path. He asked, he urged, he claimed the boon of a brand +snatched from the burning. Earnestness is ever deeply solemn: first, as +I listened to that prayer, I wondered at his; then, when it continued and +rose, I was touched by it, and at last awed. He felt the greatness and +goodness of his purpose so sincerely: others who heard him plead for it, +could not but feel it too. + +The prayer over, we took leave of him: he was to go at a very early hour +in the morning. Diana and Mary having kissed him, left the room--in +compliance, I think, with a whispered hint from him: I tendered my hand, +and wished him a pleasant journey. + +"Thank you, Jane. As I said, I shall return from Cambridge in a +fortnight: that space, then, is yet left you for reflection. If I +listened to human pride, I should say no more to you of marriage with me; +but I listen to my duty, and keep steadily in view my first aim--to do +all things to the glory of God. My Master was long-suffering: so will I +be. I cannot give you up to perdition as a vessel of wrath: +repent--resolve, while there is yet time. Remember, we are bid to work +while it is day--warned that 'the night cometh when no man shall work.' +Remember the fate of Dives, who had his good things in this life. God +give you strength to choose that better part which shall not be taken +from you!" + +He laid his hand on my head as he uttered the last words. He had spoken +earnestly, mildly: his look was not, indeed, that of a lover beholding +his mistress, but it was that of a pastor recalling his wandering +sheep--or better, of a guardian angel watching the soul for which he is +responsible. All men of talent, whether they be men of feeling or not; +whether they be zealots, or aspirants, or despots--provided only they be +sincere--have their sublime moments, when they subdue and rule. I felt +veneration for St. John--veneration so strong that its impetus thrust me +at once to the point I had so long shunned. I was tempted to cease +struggling with him--to rush down the torrent of his will into the gulf +of his existence, and there lose my own. I was almost as hard beset by +him now as I had been once before, in a different way, by another. I was +a fool both times. To have yielded then would have been an error of +principle; to have yielded now would have been an error of judgment. So +I think at this hour, when I look back to the crisis through the quiet +medium of time: I was unconscious of folly at the instant. + +I stood motionless under my hierophant's touch. My refusals were +forgotten--my fears overcome--my wrestlings paralysed. The +Impossible--_i.e._, my marriage with St. John--was fast becoming the +Possible. All was changing utterly with a sudden sweep. Religion +called--Angels beckoned--God commanded--life rolled together like a +scroll--death's gates opening, showed eternity beyond: it seemed, that +for safety and bliss there, all here might be sacrificed in a second. The +dim room was full of visions. + +"Could you decide now?" asked the missionary. The inquiry was put in +gentle tones: he drew me to him as gently. Oh, that gentleness! how far +more potent is it than force! I could resist St. John's wrath: I grew +pliant as a reed under his kindness. Yet I knew all the time, if I +yielded now, I should not the less be made to repent, some day, of my +former rebellion. His nature was not changed by one hour of solemn +prayer: it was only elevated. + +"I could decide if I were but certain," I answered: "were I but convinced +that it is God's will I should marry you, I could vow to marry you here +and now--come afterwards what would!" + +"My prayers are heard!" ejaculated St. John. He pressed his hand firmer +on my head, as if he claimed me: he surrounded me with his arm, _almost_ +as if he loved me (I say _almost_--I knew the difference--for I had felt +what it was to be loved; but, like him, I had now put love out of the +question, and thought only of duty). I contended with my inward dimness +of vision, before which clouds yet rolled. I sincerely, deeply, +fervently longed to do what was right; and only that. "Show me, show me +the path!" I entreated of Heaven. I was excited more than I had ever +been; and whether what followed was the effect of excitement the reader +shall judge. + +All the house was still; for I believe all, except St. John and myself, +were now retired to rest. The one candle was dying out: the room was +full of moonlight. My heart beat fast and thick: I heard its throb. +Suddenly it stood still to an inexpressible feeling that thrilled it +through, and passed at once to my head and extremities. The feeling was +not like an electric shock, but it was quite as sharp, as strange, as +startling: it acted on my senses as if their utmost activity hitherto had +been but torpor, from which they were now summoned and forced to wake. +They rose expectant: eye and ear waited while the flesh quivered on my +bones. + +"What have you heard? What do you see?" asked St. John. I saw nothing, +but I heard a voice somewhere cry-- + +"Jane! Jane! Jane!"--nothing more. + +"O God! what is it?" I gasped. + +I might have said, "Where is it?" for it did not seem in the room--nor in +the house--nor in the garden; it did not come out of the air--nor from +under the earth--nor from overhead. I had heard it--where, or whence, +for ever impossible to know! And it was the voice of a human being--a +known, loved, well-remembered voice--that of Edward Fairfax Rochester; +and it spoke in pain and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently. + +"I am coming!" I cried. "Wait for me! Oh, I will come!" I flew to the +door and looked into the passage: it was dark. I ran out into the +garden: it was void. + +"Where are you?" I exclaimed. + +The hills beyond Marsh Glen sent the answer faintly back--"Where are +you?" I listened. The wind sighed low in the firs: all was moorland +loneliness and midnight hush. + +"Down superstition!" I commented, as that spectre rose up black by the +black yew at the gate. "This is not thy deception, nor thy witchcraft: +it is the work of nature. She was roused, and did--no miracle--but her +best." + +I broke from St. John, who had followed, and would have detained me. It +was _my_ time to assume ascendency. _My_ powers were in play and in +force. I told him to forbear question or remark; I desired him to leave +me: I must and would be alone. He obeyed at once. Where there is energy +to command well enough, obedience never fails. I mounted to my chamber; +locked myself in; fell on my knees; and prayed in my way--a different way +to St. John's, but effective in its own fashion. I seemed to penetrate +very near a Mighty Spirit; and my soul rushed out in gratitude at His +feet. I rose from the thanksgiving--took a resolve--and lay down, +unscared, enlightened--eager but for the daylight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + +The daylight came. I rose at dawn. I busied myself for an hour or two +with arranging my things in my chamber, drawers, and wardrobe, in the +order wherein I should wish to leave them during a brief absence. +Meantime, I heard St. John quit his room. He stopped at my door: I +feared he would knock--no, but a slip of paper was passed under the door. +I took it up. It bore these words-- + +"You left me too suddenly last night. Had you stayed but a little +longer, you would have laid your hand on the Christian's cross and the +angel's crown. I shall expect your clear decision when I return this day +fortnight. Meantime, watch and pray that you enter not into temptation: +the spirit, I trust, is willing, but the flesh, I see, is weak. I shall +pray for you hourly.--Yours, ST. JOHN." + +"My spirit," I answered mentally, "is willing to do what is right; and my +flesh, I hope, is strong enough to accomplish the will of Heaven, when +once that will is distinctly known to me. At any rate, it shall be +strong enough to search--inquire--to grope an outlet from this cloud of +doubt, and find the open day of certainty." + +It was the first of June; yet the morning was overcast and chilly: rain +beat fast on my casement. I heard the front-door open, and St. John pass +out. Looking through the window, I saw him traverse the garden. He took +the way over the misty moors in the direction of Whitcross--there he +would meet the coach. + +"In a few more hours I shall succeed you in that track, cousin," thought +I: "I too have a coach to meet at Whitcross. I too have some to see and +ask after in England, before I depart for ever." + +It wanted yet two hours of breakfast-time. I filled the interval in +walking softly about my room, and pondering the visitation which had +given my plans their present bent. I recalled that inward sensation I +had experienced: for I could recall it, with all its unspeakable +strangeness. I recalled the voice I had heard; again I questioned whence +it came, as vainly as before: it seemed in _me_--not in the external +world. I asked was it a mere nervous impression--a delusion? I could +not conceive or believe: it was more like an inspiration. The wondrous +shock of feeling had come like the earthquake which shook the foundations +of Paul and Silas's prison; it had opened the doors of the soul's cell +and loosed its bands--it had wakened it out of its sleep, whence it +sprang trembling, listening, aghast; then vibrated thrice a cry on my +startled ear, and in my quaking heart and through my spirit, which +neither feared nor shook, but exulted as if in joy over the success of +one effort it had been privileged to make, independent of the cumbrous +body. + +"Ere many days," I said, as I terminated my musings, "I will know +something of him whose voice seemed last night to summon me. Letters +have proved of no avail--personal inquiry shall replace them." + +At breakfast I announced to Diana and Mary that I was going a journey, +and should be absent at least four days. + +"Alone, Jane?" they asked. + +"Yes; it was to see or hear news of a friend about whom I had for some +time been uneasy." + +They might have said, as I have no doubt they thought, that they had +believed me to be without any friends save them: for, indeed, I had often +said so; but, with their true natural delicacy, they abstained from +comment, except that Diana asked me if I was sure I was well enough to +travel. I looked very pale, she observed. I replied, that nothing ailed +me save anxiety of mind, which I hoped soon to alleviate. + +It was easy to make my further arrangements; for I was troubled with no +inquiries--no surmises. Having once explained to them that I could not +now be explicit about my plans, they kindly and wisely acquiesced in the +silence with which I pursued them, according to me the privilege of free +action I should under similar circumstances have accorded them. + +I left Moor House at three o'clock p.m., and soon after four I stood at +the foot of the sign-post of Whitcross, waiting the arrival of the coach +which was to take me to distant Thornfield. Amidst the silence of those +solitary roads and desert hills, I heard it approach from a great +distance. It was the same vehicle whence, a year ago, I had alighted one +summer evening on this very spot--how desolate, and hopeless, and +objectless! It stopped as I beckoned. I entered--not now obliged to +part with my whole fortune as the price of its accommodation. Once more +on the road to Thornfield, I felt like the messenger-pigeon flying home. + +It was a journey of six-and-thirty hours. I had set out from Whitcross +on a Tuesday afternoon, and early on the succeeding Thursday morning the +coach stopped to water the horses at a wayside inn, situated in the midst +of scenery whose green hedges and large fields and low pastoral hills +(how mild of feature and verdant of hue compared with the stern North- +Midland moors of Morton!) met my eye like the lineaments of a once +familiar face. Yes, I knew the character of this landscape: I was sure +we were near my bourne. + +"How far is Thornfield Hall from here?" I asked of the ostler. + +"Just two miles, ma'am, across the fields." + +"My journey is closed," I thought to myself. I got out of the coach, +gave a box I had into the ostler's charge, to be kept till I called for +it; paid my fare; satisfied the coachman, and was going: the brightening +day gleamed on the sign of the inn, and I read in gilt letters, "The +Rochester Arms." My heart leapt up: I was already on my master's very +lands. It fell again: the thought struck it:-- + +"Your master himself may be beyond the British Channel, for aught you +know: and then, if he is at Thornfield Hall, towards which you hasten, +who besides him is there? His lunatic wife: and you have nothing to do +with him: you dare not speak to him or seek his presence. You have lost +your labour--you had better go no farther," urged the monitor. "Ask +information of the people at the inn; they can give you all you seek: +they can solve your doubts at once. Go up to that man, and inquire if +Mr. Rochester be at home." + +The suggestion was sensible, and yet I could not force myself to act on +it. I so dreaded a reply that would crush me with despair. To prolong +doubt was to prolong hope. I might yet once more see the Hall under the +ray of her star. There was the stile before me--the very fields through +which I had hurried, blind, deaf, distracted with a revengeful fury +tracking and scourging me, on the morning I fled from Thornfield: ere I +well knew what course I had resolved to take, I was in the midst of them. +How fast I walked! How I ran sometimes! How I looked forward to catch +the first view of the well-known woods! With what feelings I welcomed +single trees I knew, and familiar glimpses of meadow and hill between +them! + +At last the woods rose; the rookery clustered dark; a loud cawing broke +the morning stillness. Strange delight inspired me: on I hastened. +Another field crossed--a lane threaded--and there were the courtyard +walls--the back offices: the house itself, the rookery still hid. "My +first view of it shall be in front," I determined, "where its bold +battlements will strike the eye nobly at once, and where I can single out +my master's very window: perhaps he will be standing at it--he rises +early: perhaps he is now walking in the orchard, or on the pavement in +front. Could I but see him!--but a moment! Surely, in that case, I +should not be so mad as to run to him? I cannot tell--I am not certain. +And if I did--what then? God bless him! What then? Who would be hurt +by my once more tasting the life his glance can give me? I rave: perhaps +at this moment he is watching the sun rise over the Pyrenees, or on the +tideless sea of the south." + +I had coasted along the lower wall of the orchard--turned its angle: +there was a gate just there, opening into the meadow, between two stone +pillars crowned by stone balls. From behind one pillar I could peep +round quietly at the full front of the mansion. I advanced my head with +precaution, desirous to ascertain if any bedroom window-blinds were yet +drawn up: battlements, windows, long front--all from this sheltered +station were at my command. + +The crows sailing overhead perhaps watched me while I took this survey. I +wonder what they thought. They must have considered I was very careful +and timid at first, and that gradually I grew very bold and reckless. A +peep, and then a long stare; and then a departure from my niche and a +straying out into the meadow; and a sudden stop full in front of the +great mansion, and a protracted, hardy gaze towards it. "What +affectation of diffidence was this at first?" they might have demanded; +"what stupid regardlessness now?" + +Hear an illustration, reader. + +A lover finds his mistress asleep on a mossy bank; he wishes to catch a +glimpse of her fair face without waking her. He steals softly over the +grass, careful to make no sound; he pauses--fancying she has stirred: he +withdraws: not for worlds would he be seen. All is still: he again +advances: he bends above her; a light veil rests on her features: he +lifts it, bends lower; now his eyes anticipate the vision of beauty--warm, +and blooming, and lovely, in rest. How hurried was their first glance! +But how they fix! How he starts! How he suddenly and vehemently clasps +in both arms the form he dared not, a moment since, touch with his +finger! How he calls aloud a name, and drops his burden, and gazes on it +wildly! He thus grasps and cries, and gazes, because he no longer fears +to waken by any sound he can utter--by any movement he can make. He +thought his love slept sweetly: he finds she is stone dead. + +I looked with timorous joy towards a stately house: I saw a blackened +ruin. + +No need to cower behind a gate-post, indeed!--to peep up at chamber +lattices, fearing life was astir behind them! No need to listen for +doors opening--to fancy steps on the pavement or the gravel-walk! The +lawn, the grounds were trodden and waste: the portal yawned void. The +front was, as I had once seen it in a dream, but a well-like wall, very +high and very fragile-looking, perforated with paneless windows: no roof, +no battlements, no chimneys--all had crashed in. + +And there was the silence of death about it: the solitude of a lonesome +wild. No wonder that letters addressed to people here had never received +an answer: as well despatch epistles to a vault in a church aisle. The +grim blackness of the stones told by what fate the Hall had fallen--by +conflagration: but how kindled? What story belonged to this disaster? +What loss, besides mortar and marble and wood-work had followed upon it? +Had life been wrecked as well as property? If so, whose? Dreadful +question: there was no one here to answer it--not even dumb sign, mute +token. + +In wandering round the shattered walls and through the devastated +interior, I gathered evidence that the calamity was not of late +occurrence. Winter snows, I thought, had drifted through that void arch, +winter rains beaten in at those hollow casements; for, amidst the +drenched piles of rubbish, spring had cherished vegetation: grass and +weed grew here and there between the stones and fallen rafters. And oh! +where meantime was the hapless owner of this wreck? In what land? Under +what auspices? My eye involuntarily wandered to the grey church tower +near the gates, and I asked, "Is he with Damer de Rochester, sharing the +shelter of his narrow marble house?" + +Some answer must be had to these questions. I could find it nowhere but +at the inn, and thither, ere long, I returned. The host himself brought +my breakfast into the parlour. I requested him to shut the door and sit +down: I had some questions to ask him. But when he complied, I scarcely +knew how to begin; such horror had I of the possible answers. And yet +the spectacle of desolation I had just left prepared me in a measure for +a tale of misery. The host was a respectable-looking, middle-aged man. + +"You know Thornfield Hall, of course?" I managed to say at last. + +"Yes, ma'am; I lived there once." + +"Did you?" Not in my time, I thought: you are a stranger to me. + +"I was the late Mr. Rochester's butler," he added. + +The late! I seem to have received, with full force, the blow I had been +trying to evade. + +"The late!" I gasped. "Is he dead?" + +"I mean the present gentleman, Mr. Edward's father," he explained. I +breathed again: my blood resumed its flow. Fully assured by these words +that Mr. Edward--_my_ Mr. Rochester (God bless him, wherever he was!)--was +at least alive: was, in short, "the present gentleman." Gladdening +words! It seemed I could hear all that was to come--whatever the +disclosures might be--with comparative tranquillity. Since he was not in +the grave, I could bear, I thought, to learn that he was at the +Antipodes. + +"Is Mr. Rochester living at Thornfield Hall now?" I asked, knowing, of +course, what the answer would be, but yet desirous of deferring the +direct question as to where he really was. + +"No, ma'am--oh, no! No one is living there. I suppose you are a +stranger in these parts, or you would have heard what happened last +autumn,--Thornfield Hall is quite a ruin: it was burnt down just about +harvest-time. A dreadful calamity! such an immense quantity of valuable +property destroyed: hardly any of the furniture could be saved. The fire +broke out at dead of night, and before the engines arrived from Millcote, +the building was one mass of flame. It was a terrible spectacle: I +witnessed it myself." + +"At dead of night!" I muttered. Yes, that was ever the hour of fatality +at Thornfield. "Was it known how it originated?" I demanded. + +"They guessed, ma'am: they guessed. Indeed, I should say it was +ascertained beyond a doubt. You are not perhaps aware," he continued, +edging his chair a little nearer the table, and speaking low, "that there +was a lady--a--a lunatic, kept in the house?" + +"I have heard something of it." + +"She was kept in very close confinement, ma'am: people even for some +years was not absolutely certain of her existence. No one saw her: they +only knew by rumour that such a person was at the Hall; and who or what +she was it was difficult to conjecture. They said Mr. Edward had brought +her from abroad, and some believed she had been his mistress. But a +queer thing happened a year since--a very queer thing." + +I feared now to hear my own story. I endeavoured to recall him to the +main fact. + +"And this lady?" + +"This lady, ma'am," he answered, "turned out to be Mr. Rochester's wife! +The discovery was brought about in the strangest way. There was a young +lady, a governess at the Hall, that Mr. Rochester fell in--" + +"But the fire," I suggested. + +"I'm coming to that, ma'am--that Mr. Edward fell in love with. The +servants say they never saw anybody so much in love as he was: he was +after her continually. They used to watch him--servants will, you know, +ma'am--and he set store on her past everything: for all, nobody but him +thought her so very handsome. She was a little small thing, they say, +almost like a child. I never saw her myself; but I've heard Leah, the +house-maid, tell of her. Leah liked her well enough. Mr. Rochester was +about forty, and this governess not twenty; and you see, when gentlemen +of his age fall in love with girls, they are often like as if they were +bewitched. Well, he would marry her." + +"You shall tell me this part of the story another time," I said; "but now +I have a particular reason for wishing to hear all about the fire. Was +it suspected that this lunatic, Mrs. Rochester, had any hand in it?" + +"You've hit it, ma'am: it's quite certain that it was her, and nobody but +her, that set it going. She had a woman to take care of her called Mrs. +Poole--an able woman in her line, and very trustworthy, but for one +fault--a fault common to a deal of them nurses and matrons--she _kept a +private bottle of gin by her_, and now and then took a drop over-much. It +is excusable, for she had a hard life of it: but still it was dangerous; +for when Mrs. Poole was fast asleep after the gin and water, the mad +lady, who was as cunning as a witch, would take the keys out of her +pocket, let herself out of her chamber, and go roaming about the house, +doing any wild mischief that came into her head. They say she had nearly +burnt her husband in his bed once: but I don't know about that. However, +on this night, she set fire first to the hangings of the room next her +own, and then she got down to a lower storey, and made her way to the +chamber that had been the governess's--(she was like as if she knew +somehow how matters had gone on, and had a spite at her)--and she kindled +the bed there; but there was nobody sleeping in it, fortunately. The +governess had run away two months before; and for all Mr. Rochester +sought her as if she had been the most precious thing he had in the +world, he never could hear a word of her; and he grew savage--quite +savage on his disappointment: he never was a wild man, but he got +dangerous after he lost her. He would be alone, too. He sent Mrs. +Fairfax, the housekeeper, away to her friends at a distance; but he did +it handsomely, for he settled an annuity on her for life: and she +deserved it--she was a very good woman. Miss Adele, a ward he had, was +put to school. He broke off acquaintance with all the gentry, and shut +himself up like a hermit at the Hall." + +"What! did he not leave England?" + +"Leave England? Bless you, no! He would not cross the door-stones of +the house, except at night, when he walked just like a ghost about the +grounds and in the orchard as if he had lost his senses--which it is my +opinion he had; for a more spirited, bolder, keener gentleman than he was +before that midge of a governess crossed him, you never saw, ma'am. He +was not a man given to wine, or cards, or racing, as some are, and he was +not so very handsome; but he had a courage and a will of his own, if ever +man had. I knew him from a boy, you see: and for my part, I have often +wished that Miss Eyre had been sunk in the sea before she came to +Thornfield Hall." + +"Then Mr. Rochester was at home when the fire broke out?" + +"Yes, indeed was he; and he went up to the attics when all was burning +above and below, and got the servants out of their beds and helped them +down himself, and went back to get his mad wife out of her cell. And +then they called out to him that she was on the roof, where she was +standing, waving her arms, above the battlements, and shouting out till +they could hear her a mile off: I saw her and heard her with my own eyes. +She was a big woman, and had long black hair: we could see it streaming +against the flames as she stood. I witnessed, and several more +witnessed, Mr. Rochester ascend through the sky-light on to the roof; we +heard him call 'Bertha!' We saw him approach her; and then, ma'am, she +yelled and gave a spring, and the next minute she lay smashed on the +pavement." + +{The next minute she lay smashed on the pavement: p413.jpg} + +"Dead?" + +"Dead! Ay, dead as the stones on which her brains and blood were +scattered." + +"Good God!" + +"You may well say so, ma'am: it was frightful!" + +He shuddered. + +"And afterwards?" I urged. + +"Well, ma'am, afterwards the house was burnt to the ground: there are +only some bits of walls standing now." + +"Were any other lives lost?" + +"No--perhaps it would have been better if there had." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Poor Mr. Edward!" he ejaculated, "I little thought ever to have seen it! +Some say it was a just judgment on him for keeping his first marriage +secret, and wanting to take another wife while he had one living: but I +pity him, for my part." + +"You said he was alive?" I exclaimed. + +"Yes, yes: he is alive; but many think he had better be dead." + +"Why? How?" My blood was again running cold. "Where is he?" I +demanded. "Is he in England?" + +"Ay--ay--he's in England; he can't get out of England, I fancy--he's a +fixture now." + +What agony was this! And the man seemed resolved to protract it. + +"He is stone-blind," he said at last. "Yes, he is stone-blind, is Mr. +Edward." + +I had dreaded worse. I had dreaded he was mad. I summoned strength to +ask what had caused this calamity. + +"It was all his own courage, and a body may say, his kindness, in a way, +ma'am: he wouldn't leave the house till every one else was out before +him. As he came down the great staircase at last, after Mrs. Rochester +had flung herself from the battlements, there was a great crash--all +fell. He was taken out from under the ruins, alive, but sadly hurt: a +beam had fallen in such a way as to protect him partly; but one eye was +knocked out, and one hand so crushed that Mr. Carter, the surgeon, had to +amputate it directly. The other eye inflamed: he lost the sight of that +also. He is now helpless, indeed--blind and a cripple." + +"Where is he? Where does he now live?" + +"At Ferndean, a manor-house on a farm he has, about thirty miles off: +quite a desolate spot." + +"Who is with him?" + +"Old John and his wife: he would have none else. He is quite broken +down, they say." + +"Have you any sort of conveyance?" + +"We have a chaise, ma'am, a very handsome chaise." + +"Let it be got ready instantly; and if your post-boy can drive me to +Ferndean before dark this day, I'll pay both you and him twice the hire +you usually demand." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +The manor-house of Ferndean was a building of considerable antiquity, +moderate size, and no architectural pretensions, deep buried in a wood. I +had heard of it before. Mr. Rochester often spoke of it, and sometimes +went there. His father had purchased the estate for the sake of the game +covers. He would have let the house, but could find no tenant, in +consequence of its ineligible and insalubrious site. Ferndean then +remained uninhabited and unfurnished, with the exception of some two or +three rooms fitted up for the accommodation of the squire when he went +there in the season to shoot. + +To this house I came just ere dark on an evening marked by the +characteristics of sad sky, cold gale, and continued small penetrating +rain. The last mile I performed on foot, having dismissed the chaise and +driver with the double remuneration I had promised. Even when within a +very short distance of the manor-house, you could see nothing of it, so +thick and dark grew the timber of the gloomy wood about it. Iron gates +between granite pillars showed me where to enter, and passing through +them, I found myself at once in the twilight of close-ranked trees. There +was a grass-grown track descending the forest aisle between hoar and +knotty shafts and under branched arches. I followed it, expecting soon +to reach the dwelling; but it stretched on and on, it would far and +farther: no sign of habitation or grounds was visible. + +I thought I had taken a wrong direction and lost my way. The darkness of +natural as well as of sylvan dusk gathered over me. I looked round in +search of another road. There was none: all was interwoven stem, +columnar trunk, dense summer foliage--no opening anywhere. + +I proceeded: at last my way opened, the trees thinned a little; presently +I beheld a railing, then the house--scarce, by this dim light, +distinguishable from the trees; so dank and green were its decaying +walls. Entering a portal, fastened only by a latch, I stood amidst a +space of enclosed ground, from which the wood swept away in a semicircle. +There were no flowers, no garden-beds; only a broad gravel-walk girdling +a grass-plat, and this set in the heavy frame of the forest. The house +presented two pointed gables in its front; the windows were latticed and +narrow: the front door was narrow too, one step led up to it. The whole +looked, as the host of the Rochester Arms had said, "quite a desolate +spot." It was as still as a church on a week-day: the pattering rain on +the forest leaves was the only sound audible in its vicinage. + +"Can there be life here?" I asked. + +Yes, life of some kind there was; for I heard a movement--that narrow +front-door was unclosing, and some shape was about to issue from the +grange. + +It opened slowly: a figure came out into the twilight and stood on the +step; a man without a hat: he stretched forth his hand as if to feel +whether it rained. Dusk as it was, I had recognised him--it was my +master, Edward Fairfax Rochester, and no other. + +I stayed my step, almost my breath, and stood to watch him--to examine +him, myself unseen, and alas! to him invisible. It was a sudden meeting, +and one in which rapture was kept well in check by pain. I had no +difficulty in restraining my voice from exclamation, my step from hasty +advance. + +His form was of the same strong and stalwart contour as ever: his port +was still erect, his hair was still raven black; nor were his features +altered or sunk: not in one year's space, by any sorrow, could his +athletic strength be quelled or his vigorous prime blighted. But in his +countenance I saw a change: that looked desperate and brooding--that +reminded me of some wronged and fettered wild beast or bird, dangerous to +approach in his sullen woe. The caged eagle, whose gold-ringed eyes +cruelty has extinguished, might look as looked that sightless Samson. + +And, reader, do you think I feared him in his blind ferocity?--if you do, +you little know me. A soft hope blest with my sorrow that soon I should +dare to drop a kiss on that brow of rock, and on those lips so sternly +sealed beneath it: but not yet. I would not accost him yet. + +He descended the one step, and advanced slowly and gropingly towards the +grass-plat. Where was his daring stride now? Then he paused, as if he +knew not which way to turn. He lifted his hand and opened his eyelids; +gazed blank, and with a straining effort, on the sky, and toward the +amphitheatre of trees: one saw that all to him was void darkness. He +stretched his right hand (the left arm, the mutilated one, he kept hidden +in his bosom); he seemed to wish by touch to gain an idea of what lay +around him: he met but vacancy still; for the trees were some yards off +where he stood. He relinquished the endeavour, folded his arms, and +stood quiet and mute in the rain, now falling fast on his uncovered head. +At this moment John approached him from some quarter. + +"Will you take my arm, sir?" he said; "there is a heavy shower coming on: +had you not better go in?" + +"Let me alone," was the answer. + +John withdrew without having observed me. Mr. Rochester now tried to +walk about: vainly,--all was too uncertain. He groped his way back to +the house, and, re-entering it, closed the door. + +I now drew near and knocked: John's wife opened for me. "Mary," I said, +"how are you?" + +She started as if she had seen a ghost: I calmed her. To her hurried "Is +it really you, miss, come at this late hour to this lonely place?" I +answered by taking her hand; and then I followed her into the kitchen, +where John now sat by a good fire. I explained to them, in few words, +that I had heard all which had happened since I left Thornfield, and that +I was come to see Mr. Rochester. I asked John to go down to the turn- +pike-house, where I had dismissed the chaise, and bring my trunk, which I +had left there: and then, while I removed my bonnet and shawl, I +questioned Mary as to whether I could be accommodated at the Manor House +for the night; and finding that arrangements to that effect, though +difficult, would not be impossible, I informed her I should stay. Just +at this moment the parlour-bell rang. + +"When you go in," said I, "tell your master that a person wishes to speak +to him, but do not give my name." + +"I don't think he will see you," she answered; "he refuses everybody." + +When she returned, I inquired what he had said. "You are to send in your +name and your business," she replied. She then proceeded to fill a glass +with water, and place it on a tray, together with candles. + +"Is that what he rang for?" I asked. + +"Yes: he always has candles brought in at dark, though he is blind." + +"Give the tray to me; I will carry it in." + +I took it from her hand: she pointed me out the parlour door. The tray +shook as I held it; the water spilt from the glass; my heart struck my +ribs loud and fast. Mary opened the door for me, and shut it behind me. + +This parlour looked gloomy: a neglected handful of fire burnt low in the +grate; and, leaning over it, with his head supported against the high, +old-fashioned mantelpiece, appeared the blind tenant of the room. His +old dog, Pilot, lay on one side, removed out of the way, and coiled up as +if afraid of being inadvertently trodden upon. Pilot pricked up his ears +when I came in: then he jumped up with a yelp and a whine, and bounded +towards me: he almost knocked the tray from my hands. I set it on the +table; then patted him, and said softly, "Lie down!" Mr. Rochester +turned mechanically to _see_ what the commotion was: but as he _saw_ +nothing, he returned and sighed. + +"Give me the water, Mary," he said. + +I approached him with the now only half-filled glass; Pilot followed me, +still excited. + +"What is the matter?" he inquired. + +"Down, Pilot!" I again said. He checked the water on its way to his +lips, and seemed to listen: he drank, and put the glass down. "This is +you, Mary, is it not?" + +"Mary is in the kitchen," I answered. + +He put out his hand with a quick gesture, but not seeing where I stood, +he did not touch me. "Who is this? Who is this?" he demanded, trying, +as it seemed, to _see_ with those sightless eyes--unavailing and +distressing attempt! "Answer me--speak again!" he ordered, imperiously +and aloud. + +"Will you have a little more water, sir? I spilt half of what was in the +glass," I said. + +"_Who_ is it? _What_ is it? Who speaks?" + +"Pilot knows me, and John and Mary know I am here. I came only this +evening," I answered. + +"Great God!--what delusion has come over me? What sweet madness has +seized me?" + +"No delusion--no madness: your mind, sir, is too strong for delusion, +your health too sound for frenzy." + +"And where is the speaker? Is it only a voice? Oh! I _cannot_ see, but +I must feel, or my heart will stop and my brain burst. Whatever--whoever +you are--be perceptible to the touch or I cannot live!" + +He groped; I arrested his wandering hand, and prisoned it in both mine. + +"Her very fingers!" he cried; "her small, slight fingers! If so there +must be more of her." + +The muscular hand broke from my custody; my arm was seized, my +shoulder--neck--waist--I was entwined and gathered to him. + +"Is it Jane? _What_ is it? This is her shape--this is her size--" + +"And this her voice," I added. "She is all here: her heart, too. God +bless you, sir! I am glad to be so near you again." + +"Jane Eyre!--Jane Eyre," was all he said. + +"My dear master," I answered, "I am Jane Eyre: I have found you out--I am +come back to you." + +"In truth?--in the flesh? My living Jane?" + +"You touch me, sir,--you hold me, and fast enough: I am not cold like a +corpse, nor vacant like air, am I?" + +"My living darling! These are certainly her limbs, and these her +features; but I cannot be so blest, after all my misery. It is a dream; +such dreams as I have had at night when I have clasped her once more to +my heart, as I do now; and kissed her, as thus--and felt that she loved +me, and trusted that she would not leave me." + +"Which I never will, sir, from this day." + +"Never will, says the vision? But I always woke and found it an empty +mockery; and I was desolate and abandoned--my life dark, lonely, +hopeless--my soul athirst and forbidden to drink--my heart famished and +never to be fed. Gentle, soft dream, nestling in my arms now, you will +fly, too, as your sisters have all fled before you: but kiss me before +you go--embrace me, Jane." + +"There, sir--and there!"' + +I pressed my lips to his once brilliant and now rayless eyes--I swept his +hair from his brow, and kissed that too. He suddenly seemed to arouse +himself: the conviction of the reality of all this seized him. + +"It is you--is it, Jane? You are come back to me then?" + +"I am." + +"And you do not lie dead in some ditch under some stream? And you are +not a pining outcast amongst strangers?" + +"No, sir! I am an independent woman now." + +"Independent! What do you mean, Jane?" + +"My uncle in Madeira is dead, and he left me five thousand pounds." + +"Ah! this is practical--this is real!" he cried: "I should never dream +that. Besides, there is that peculiar voice of hers, so animating and +piquant, as well as soft: it cheers my withered heart; it puts life into +it.--What, Janet! Are you an independent woman? A rich woman?" + +"If you won't let me live with you, I can build a house of my own close +up to your door, and you may come and sit in my parlour when you want +company of an evening." + +"But as you are rich, Jane, you have now, no doubt, friends who will look +after you, and not suffer you to devote yourself to a blind lameter like +me?" + +"I told you I am independent, sir, as well as rich: I am my own +mistress." + +"And you will stay with me?" + +"Certainly--unless you object. I will be your neighbour, your nurse, +your housekeeper. I find you lonely: I will be your companion--to read +to you, to walk with you, to sit with you, to wait on you, to be eyes and +hands to you. Cease to look so melancholy, my dear master; you shall not +be left desolate, so long as I live." + +He replied not: he seemed serious--abstracted; he sighed; he half-opened +his lips as if to speak: he closed them again. I felt a little +embarrassed. Perhaps I had too rashly over-leaped conventionalities; and +he, like St. John, saw impropriety in my inconsiderateness. I had indeed +made my proposal from the idea that he wished and would ask me to be his +wife: an expectation, not the less certain because unexpressed, had +buoyed me up, that he would claim me at once as his own. But no hint to +that effect escaping him and his countenance becoming more overcast, I +suddenly remembered that I might have been all wrong, and was perhaps +playing the fool unwittingly; and I began gently to withdraw myself from +his arms--but he eagerly snatched me closer. + +"No--no--Jane; you must not go. No--I have touched you, heard you, felt +the comfort of your presence--the sweetness of your consolation: I cannot +give up these joys. I have little left in myself--I must have you. The +world may laugh--may call me absurd, selfish--but it does not signify. My +very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly +vengeance on its frame." + +"Well, sir, I will stay with you: I have said so." + +"Yes--but you understand one thing by staying with me; and I understand +another. You, perhaps, could make up your mind to be about my hand and +chair--to wait on me as a kind little nurse (for you have an affectionate +heart and a generous spirit, which prompt you to make sacrifices for +those you pity), and that ought to suffice for me no doubt. I suppose I +should now entertain none but fatherly feelings for you: do you think so? +Come--tell me." + +"I will think what you like, sir: I am content to be only your nurse, if +you think it better." + +"But you cannot always be my nurse, Janet: you are young--you must marry +one day." + +"I don't care about being married." + +"You should care, Janet: if I were what I once was, I would try to make +you care--but--a sightless block!" + +He relapsed again into gloom. I, on the contrary, became more cheerful, +and took fresh courage: these last words gave me an insight as to where +the difficulty lay; and as it was no difficulty with me, I felt quite +relieved from my previous embarrassment. I resumed a livelier vein of +conversation. + +"It is time some one undertook to rehumanise you," said I, parting his +thick and long uncut locks; "for I see you are being metamorphosed into a +lion, or something of that sort. You have a 'faux air' of Nebuchadnezzar +in the fields about you, that is certain: your hair reminds me of eagles' +feathers; whether your nails are grown like birds' claws or not, I have +not yet noticed." + +"On this arm, I have neither hand nor nails," he said, drawing the +mutilated limb from his breast, and showing it to me. "It is a mere +stump--a ghastly sight! Don't you think so, Jane?" + +"It is a pity to see it; and a pity to see your eyes--and the scar of +fire on your forehead: and the worst of it is, one is in danger of loving +you too well for all this; and making too much of you." + +"I thought you would be revolted, Jane, when you saw my arm, and my +cicatrised visage." + +"Did you? Don't tell me so--lest I should say something disparaging to +your judgment. Now, let me leave you an instant, to make a better fire, +and have the hearth swept up. Can you tell when there is a good fire?" + +"Yes; with the right eye I see a glow--a ruddy haze." + +"And you see the candles?" + +"Very dimly--each is a luminous cloud." + +"Can you see me?" + +"No, my fairy: but I am only too thankful to hear and feel you." + +"When do you take supper?" + +"I never take supper." + +"But you shall have some to-night. I am hungry: so are you, I daresay, +only you forget." + +Summoning Mary, I soon had the room in more cheerful order: I prepared +him, likewise, a comfortable repast. My spirits were excited, and with +pleasure and ease I talked to him during supper, and for a long time +after. There was no harassing restraint, no repressing of glee and +vivacity with him; for with him I was at perfect ease, because I knew I +suited him; all I said or did seemed either to console or revive him. +Delightful consciousness! It brought to life and light my whole nature: +in his presence I thoroughly lived; and he lived in mine. Blind as he +was, smiles played over his face, joy dawned on his forehead: his +lineaments softened and warmed. + +After supper, he began to ask me many questions, of where I had been, +what I had been doing, how I had found him out; but I gave him only very +partial replies: it was too late to enter into particulars that night. +Besides, I wished to touch no deep-thrilling chord--to open no fresh well +of emotion in his heart: my sole present aim was to cheer him. Cheered, +as I have said, he was: and yet but by fits. If a moment's silence broke +the conversation, he would turn restless, touch me, then say, "Jane." + +"You are altogether a human being, Jane? You are certain of that?" + +{You are altogether a human being, Jane? You are certain of that?: +p422.jpg} + +"I conscientiously believe so, Mr. Rochester." + +"Yet how, on this dark and doleful evening, could you so suddenly rise on +my lone hearth? I stretched my hand to take a glass of water from a +hireling, and it was given me by you: I asked a question, expecting +John's wife to answer me, and your voice spoke at my ear." + +"Because I had come in, in Mary's stead, with the tray." + +"And there is enchantment in the very hour I am now spending with you. +Who can tell what a dark, dreary, hopeless life I have dragged on for +months past? Doing nothing, expecting nothing; merging night in day; +feeling but the sensation of cold when I let the fire go out, of hunger +when I forgot to eat: and then a ceaseless sorrow, and, at times, a very +delirium of desire to behold my Jane again. Yes: for her restoration I +longed, far more than for that of my lost sight. How can it be that Jane +is with me, and says she loves me? Will she not depart as suddenly as +she came? To-morrow, I fear I shall find her no more." + +A commonplace, practical reply, out of the train of his own disturbed +ideas, was, I was sure, the best and most reassuring for him in this +frame of mind. I passed my finger over his eyebrows, and remarked that +they were scorched, and that I would apply something which would make +them grow as broad and black as ever. + +"Where is the use of doing me good in any way, beneficent spirit, when, +at some fatal moment, you will again desert me--passing like a shadow, +whither and how to me unknown, and for me remaining afterwards +undiscoverable? + +"Have you a pocket-comb about you, sir?" + +"What for, Jane?" + +"Just to comb out this shaggy black mane. I find you rather alarming, +when I examine you close at hand: you talk of my being a fairy, but I am +sure, you are more like a brownie." + +"Am I hideous, Jane?" + +"Very, sir: you always were, you know." + +"Humph! The wickedness has not been taken out of you, wherever you have +sojourned." + +"Yet I have been with good people; far better than you: a hundred times +better people; possessed of ideas and views you never entertained in your +life: quite more refined and exalted." + +"Who the deuce have you been with?" + +"If you twist in that way you will make me pull the hair out of your +head; and then I think you will cease to entertain doubts of my +substantiality." + +"Who have you been with, Jane?" + +"You shall not get it out of me to-night, sir; you must wait till +to-morrow; to leave my tale half told, will, you know, be a sort of +security that I shall appear at your breakfast table to finish it. By +the bye, I must mind not to rise on your hearth with only a glass of +water then: I must bring an egg at the least, to say nothing of fried +ham." + +"You mocking changeling--fairy-born and human-bred! You make me feel as +I have not felt these twelve months. If Saul could have had you for his +David, the evil spirit would have been exorcised without the aid of the +harp." + +"There, sir, you are redd up and made decent. Now I'll leave you: I have +been travelling these last three days, and I believe I am tired. Good +night." + +"Just one word, Jane: were there only ladies in the house where you have +been?" + +I laughed and made my escape, still laughing as I ran upstairs. "A good +idea!" I thought with glee. "I see I have the means of fretting him out +of his melancholy for some time to come." + +Very early the next morning I heard him up and astir, wandering from one +room to another. As soon as Mary came down I heard the question: "Is +Miss Eyre here?" Then: "Which room did you put her into? Was it dry? Is +she up? Go and ask if she wants anything; and when she will come down." + +I came down as soon as I thought there was a prospect of breakfast. +Entering the room very softly, I had a view of him before he discovered +my presence. It was mournful, indeed, to witness the subjugation of that +vigorous spirit to a corporeal infirmity. He sat in his chair--still, +but not at rest: expectant evidently; the lines of now habitual sadness +marking his strong features. His countenance reminded one of a lamp +quenched, waiting to be re-lit--and alas! it was not himself that could +now kindle the lustre of animated expression: he was dependent on another +for that office! I had meant to be gay and careless, but the +powerlessness of the strong man touched my heart to the quick: still I +accosted him with what vivacity I could. + +"It is a bright, sunny morning, sir," I said. "The rain is over and +gone, and there is a tender shining after it: you shall have a walk +soon." + +I had wakened the glow: his features beamed. + +"Oh, you are indeed there, my skylark! Come to me. You are not gone: +not vanished? I heard one of your kind an hour ago, singing high over +the wood: but its song had no music for me, any more than the rising sun +had rays. All the melody on earth is concentrated in my Jane's tongue to +my ear (I am glad it is not naturally a silent one): all the sunshine I +can feel is in her presence." + +The water stood in my eyes to hear this avowal of his dependence; just as +if a royal eagle, chained to a perch, should be forced to entreat a +sparrow to become its purveyor. But I would not be lachrymose: I dashed +off the salt drops, and busied myself with preparing breakfast. + +Most of the morning was spent in the open air. I led him out of the wet +and wild wood into some cheerful fields: I described to him how +brilliantly green they were; how the flowers and hedges looked refreshed; +how sparklingly blue was the sky. I sought a seat for him in a hidden +and lovely spot, a dry stump of a tree; nor did I refuse to let him, when +seated, place me on his knee. Why should I, when both he and I were +happier near than apart? Pilot lay beside us: all was quiet. He broke +out suddenly while clasping me in his arms-- + +"Cruel, cruel deserter! Oh, Jane, what did I feel when I discovered you +had fled from Thornfield, and when I could nowhere find you; and, after +examining your apartment, ascertained that you had taken no money, nor +anything which could serve as an equivalent! A pearl necklace I had +given you lay untouched in its little casket; your trunks were left +corded and locked as they had been prepared for the bridal tour. What +could my darling do, I asked, left destitute and penniless? And what did +she do? Let me hear now." + +Thus urged, I began the narrative of my experience for the last year. I +softened considerably what related to the three days of wandering and +starvation, because to have told him all would have been to inflict +unnecessary pain: the little I did say lacerated his faithful heart +deeper than I wished. + +I should not have left him thus, he said, without any means of making my +way: I should have told him my intention. I should have confided in him: +he would never have forced me to be his mistress. Violent as he had +seemed in his despair, he, in truth, loved me far too well and too +tenderly to constitute himself my tyrant: he would have given me half his +fortune, without demanding so much as a kiss in return, rather than I +should have flung myself friendless on the wide world. I had endured, he +was certain, more than I had confessed to him. + +"Well, whatever my sufferings had been, they were very short," I +answered: and then I proceeded to tell him how I had been received at +Moor House; how I had obtained the office of schoolmistress, &c. The +accession of fortune, the discovery of my relations, followed in due +order. Of course, St. John Rivers' name came in frequently in the +progress of my tale. When I had done, that name was immediately taken +up. + +"This St. John, then, is your cousin?" + +"Yes." + +"You have spoken of him often: do you like him?" + +"He was a very good man, sir; I could not help liking him." + +"A good man. Does that mean a respectable well-conducted man of fifty? +Or what does it mean?" + +"St John was only twenty-nine, sir." + +"'_Jeune encore_,' as the French say. Is he a person of low stature, +phlegmatic, and plain. A person whose goodness consists rather in his +guiltlessness of vice, than in his prowess in virtue." + +"He is untiringly active. Great and exalted deeds are what he lives to +perform." + +"But his brain? That is probably rather soft? He means well: but you +shrug your shoulders to hear him talk?" + +"He talks little, sir: what he does say is ever to the point. His brain +is first-rate, I should think not impressible, but vigorous." + +"Is he an able man, then?" + +"Truly able." + +"A thoroughly educated man?" + +"St. John is an accomplished and profound scholar." + +"His manners, I think, you said are not to your taste?--priggish and +parsonic?" + +"I never mentioned his manners; but, unless I had a very bad taste, they +must suit it; they are polished, calm, and gentlemanlike." + +"His appearance,--I forget what description you gave of his appearance;--a +sort of raw curate, half strangled with his white neckcloth, and stilted +up on his thick-soled high-lows, eh?" + +"St. John dresses well. He is a handsome man: tall, fair, with blue +eyes, and a Grecian profile." + +(Aside.) "Damn him!"--(To me.) "Did you like him, Jane?" + +"Yes, Mr. Rochester, I liked him: but you asked me that before." + +I perceived, of course, the drift of my interlocutor. Jealousy had got +hold of him: she stung him; but the sting was salutary: it gave him +respite from the gnawing fang of melancholy. I would not, therefore, +immediately charm the snake. + +"Perhaps you would rather not sit any longer on my knee, Miss Eyre?" was +the next somewhat unexpected observation. + +"Why not, Mr. Rochester?" + +"The picture you have just drawn is suggestive of a rather too +overwhelming contrast. Your words have delineated very prettily a +graceful Apollo: he is present to your imagination,--tall, fair, blue- +eyed, and with a Grecian profile. Your eyes dwell on a Vulcan,--a real +blacksmith, brown, broad-shouldered: and blind and lame into the +bargain." + +"I never thought of it, before; but you certainly are rather like Vulcan, +sir." + +"Well, you can leave me, ma'am: but before you go" (and he retained me by +a firmer grasp than ever), "you will be pleased just to answer me a +question or two." He paused. + +"What questions, Mr. Rochester?" + +Then followed this cross-examination. + +"St. John made you schoolmistress of Morton before he knew you were his +cousin?" + +"Yes." + +"You would often see him? He would visit the school sometimes?" + +"Daily." + +"He would approve of your plans, Jane? I know they would be clever, for +you are a talented creature!" + +"He approved of them--yes." + +"He would discover many things in you he could not have expected to find? +Some of your accomplishments are not ordinary." + +"I don't know about that." + +"You had a little cottage near the school, you say: did he ever come +there to see you?" + +"Now and then?" + +"Of an evening?" + +"Once or twice." + +A pause. + +"How long did you reside with him and his sisters after the cousinship +was discovered?" + +"Five months." + +"Did Rivers spend much time with the ladies of his family?" + +"Yes; the back parlour was both his study and ours: he sat near the +window, and we by the table." + +"Did he study much?" + +"A good deal." + +"What?" + +"Hindostanee." + +"And what did you do meantime?" + +"I learnt German, at first." + +"Did he teach you?" + +"He did not understand German." + +"Did he teach you nothing?" + +"A little Hindostanee." + +"Rivers taught you Hindostanee?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And his sisters also?" + +"No." + +"Only you?" + +"Only me." + +"Did you ask to learn?" + +"No." + +"He wished to teach you?" + +"Yes." + +A second pause. + +"Why did he wish it? Of what use could Hindostanee be to you?" + +"He intended me to go with him to India." + +"Ah! here I reach the root of the matter. He wanted you to marry him?" + +"He asked me to marry him." + +"That is a fiction--an impudent invention to vex me." + +"I beg your pardon, it is the literal truth: he asked me more than once, +and was as stiff about urging his point as ever you could be." + +"Miss Eyre, I repeat it, you can leave me. How often am I to say the +same thing? Why do you remain pertinaciously perched on my knee, when I +have given you notice to quit?" + +"Because I am comfortable there." + +"No, Jane, you are not comfortable there, because your heart is not with +me: it is with this cousin--this St. John. Oh, till this moment, I +thought my little Jane was all mine! I had a belief she loved me even +when she left me: that was an atom of sweet in much bitter. Long as we +have been parted, hot tears as I have wept over our separation, I never +thought that while I was mourning her, she was loving another! But it is +useless grieving. Jane, leave me: go and marry Rivers." + +"Shake me off, then, sir,--push me away, for I'll not leave you of my own +accord." + +"Jane, I ever like your tone of voice: it still renews hope, it sounds so +truthful. When I hear it, it carries me back a year. I forget that you +have formed a new tie. But I am not a fool--go--" + +"Where must I go, sir?" + +"Your own way--with the husband you have chosen." + +"Who is that?" + +"You know--this St. John Rivers." + +"He is not my husband, nor ever will be. He does not love me: I do not +love him. He loves (as he _can_ love, and that is not as you love) a +beautiful young lady called Rosamond. He wanted to marry me only because +he thought I should make a suitable missionary's wife, which she would +not have done. He is good and great, but severe; and, for me, cold as an +iceberg. He is not like you, sir: I am not happy at his side, nor near +him, nor with him. He has no indulgence for me--no fondness. He sees +nothing attractive in me; not even youth--only a few useful mental +points.--Then I must leave you, sir, to go to him?" + +I shuddered involuntarily, and clung instinctively closer to my blind but +beloved master. He smiled. + +"What, Jane! Is this true? Is such really the state of matters between +you and Rivers?" + +"Absolutely, sir! Oh, you need not be jealous! I wanted to tease you a +little to make you less sad: I thought anger would be better than grief. +But if you wish me to love you, could you but see how much I _do_ love +you, you would be proud and content. All my heart is yours, sir: it +belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest +of me from your presence for ever." + +Again, as he kissed me, painful thoughts darkened his aspect. + +"My seared vision! My crippled strength!" he murmured regretfully. + +I caressed, in order to soothe him. I knew of what he was thinking, and +wanted to speak for him, but dared not. As he turned aside his face a +minute, I saw a tear slide from under the sealed eyelid, and trickle down +the manly cheek. My heart swelled. + +"I am no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut-tree in Thornfield +orchard," he remarked ere long. "And what right would that ruin have to +bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with freshness?" + +"You are no ruin, sir--no lightning-struck tree: you are green and +vigorous. Plants will grow about your roots, whether you ask them or +not, because they take delight in your bountiful shadow; and as they grow +they will lean towards you, and wind round you, because your strength +offers them so safe a prop." + +Again he smiled: I gave him comfort. + +"You speak of friends, Jane?" he asked. + +"Yes, of friends," I answered rather hesitatingly: for I knew I meant +more than friends, but could not tell what other word to employ. He +helped me. + +"Ah! Jane. But I want a wife." + +"Do you, sir?" + +"Yes: is it news to you?" + +"Of course: you said nothing about it before." + +"Is it unwelcome news?" + +"That depends on circumstances, sir--on your choice." + +"Which you shall make for me, Jane. I will abide by your decision." + +"Choose then, sir--_her who loves you best_." + +"I will at least choose--_her I love best_. Jane, will you marry me?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"A poor blind man, whom you will have to lead about by the hand?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"A crippled man, twenty years older than you, whom you will have to wait +on?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Truly, Jane?" + +"Most truly, sir." + +"Oh! my darling! God bless you and reward you!" + +"Mr. Rochester, if ever I did a good deed in my life--if ever I thought a +good thought--if ever I prayed a sincere and blameless prayer--if ever I +wished a righteous wish,--I am rewarded now. To be your wife is, for me, +to be as happy as I can be on earth." + +"Because you delight in sacrifice." + +"Sacrifice! What do I sacrifice? Famine for food, expectation for +content. To be privileged to put my arms round what I value--to press my +lips to what I love--to repose on what I trust: is that to make a +sacrifice? If so, then certainly I delight in sacrifice." + +"And to bear with my infirmities, Jane: to overlook my deficiencies." + +"Which are none, sir, to me. I love you better now, when I can really be +useful to you, than I did in your state of proud independence, when you +disdained every part but that of the giver and protector." + +"Hitherto I have hated to be helped--to be led: henceforth, I feel I +shall hate it no more. I did not like to put my hand into a hireling's, +but it is pleasant to feel it circled by Jane's little fingers. I +preferred utter loneliness to the constant attendance of servants; but +Jane's soft ministry will be a perpetual joy. Jane suits me: do I suit +her?" + +"To the finest fibre of my nature, sir." + +"The case being so, we have nothing in the world to wait for: we must be +married instantly." + +He looked and spoke with eagerness: his old impetuosity was rising. + +"We must become one flesh without any delay, Jane: there is but the +licence to get--then we marry." + +"Mr. Rochester, I have just discovered the sun is far declined from its +meridian, and Pilot is actually gone home to his dinner. Let me look at +your watch." + +"Fasten it into your girdle, Janet, and keep it henceforward: I have no +use for it." + +"It is nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, sir. Don't you feel +hungry?" + +"The third day from this must be our wedding-day, Jane. Never mind fine +clothes and jewels, now: all that is not worth a fillip." + +"The sun has dried up all the rain-drops, sir. The breeze is still: it +is quite hot." + +"Do you know, Jane, I have your little pearl necklace at this moment +fastened round my bronze scrag under my cravat? I have worn it since the +day I lost my only treasure, as a memento of her." + +"We will go home through the wood: that will be the shadiest way." + +He pursued his own thoughts without heeding me. + +"Jane! you think me, I daresay, an irreligious dog: but my heart swells +with gratitude to the beneficent God of this earth just now. He sees not +as man sees, but far clearer: judges not as man judges, but far more +wisely. I did wrong: I would have sullied my innocent flower--breathed +guilt on its purity: the Omnipotent snatched it from me. I, in my stiff- +necked rebellion, almost cursed the dispensation: instead of bending to +the decree, I defied it. Divine justice pursued its course; disasters +came thick on me: I was forced to pass through the valley of the shadow +of death. _His_ chastisements are mighty; and one smote me which has +humbled me for ever. You know I was proud of my strength: but what is it +now, when I must give it over to foreign guidance, as a child does its +weakness? Of late, Jane--only--only of late--I began to see and +acknowledge the hand of God in my doom. I began to experience remorse, +repentance; the wish for reconcilement to my Maker. I began sometimes to +pray: very brief prayers they were, but very sincere. + +"Some days since: nay, I can number them--four; it was last Monday night, +a singular mood came over me: one in which grief replaced frenzy--sorrow, +sullenness. I had long had the impression that since I could nowhere +find you, you must be dead. Late that night--perhaps it might be between +eleven and twelve o'clock--ere I retired to my dreary rest, I supplicated +God, that, if it seemed good to Him, I might soon be taken from this +life, and admitted to that world to come, where there was still hope of +rejoining Jane. + +"I was in my own room, and sitting by the window, which was open: it +soothed me to feel the balmy night-air; though I could see no stars and +only by a vague, luminous haze, knew the presence of a moon. I longed +for thee, Janet! Oh, I longed for thee both with soul and flesh! I +asked of God, at once in anguish and humility, if I had not been long +enough desolate, afflicted, tormented; and might not soon taste bliss and +peace once more. That I merited all I endured, I acknowledged--that I +could scarcely endure more, I pleaded; and the alpha and omega of my +heart's wishes broke involuntarily from my lips in the words--'Jane! +Jane! Jane!'" + +"Did you speak these words aloud?" + +"I did, Jane. If any listener had heard me, he would have thought me +mad: I pronounced them with such frantic energy." + +"And it was last Monday night, somewhere near midnight?" + +"Yes; but the time is of no consequence: what followed is the strange +point. You will think me superstitious,--some superstition I have in my +blood, and always had: nevertheless, this is true--true at least it is +that I heard what I now relate. + +"As I exclaimed 'Jane! Jane! Jane!' a voice--I cannot tell whence the +voice came, but I know whose voice it was--replied, 'I am coming: wait +for me;' and a moment after, went whispering on the wind the words--'Where +are you?' + +"I'll tell you, if I can, the idea, the picture these words opened to my +mind: yet it is difficult to express what I want to express. Ferndean is +buried, as you see, in a heavy wood, where sound falls dull, and dies +unreverberating. 'Where are you?' seemed spoken amongst mountains; for I +heard a hill-sent echo repeat the words. Cooler and fresher at the +moment the gale seemed to visit my brow: I could have deemed that in some +wild, lone scene, I and Jane were meeting. In spirit, I believe we must +have met. You no doubt were, at that hour, in unconscious sleep, Jane: +perhaps your soul wandered from its cell to comfort mine; for those were +your accents--as certain as I live--they were yours!" + +Reader, it was on Monday night--near midnight--that I too had received +the mysterious summons: those were the very words by which I replied to +it. I listened to Mr. Rochester's narrative, but made no disclosure in +return. The coincidence struck me as too awful and inexplicable to be +communicated or discussed. If I told anything, my tale would be such as +must necessarily make a profound impression on the mind of my hearer: and +that mind, yet from its sufferings too prone to gloom, needed not the +deeper shade of the supernatural. I kept these things then, and pondered +them in my heart. + +"You cannot now wonder," continued my master, "that when you rose upon me +so unexpectedly last night, I had difficulty in believing you any other +than a mere voice and vision, something that would melt to silence and +annihilation, as the midnight whisper and mountain echo had melted +before. Now, I thank God! I know it to be otherwise. Yes, I thank +God!" + +He put me off his knee, rose, and reverently lifting his hat from his +brow, and bending his sightless eyes to the earth, he stood in mute +devotion. Only the last words of the worship were audible. + +"I thank my Maker, that, in the midst of judgment, he has remembered +mercy. I humbly entreat my Redeemer to give me strength to lead +henceforth a purer life than I have done hitherto!" + +Then he stretched his hand out to be led. I took that dear hand, held it +a moment to my lips, then let it pass round my shoulder: being so much +lower of stature than he, I served both for his prop and guide. We +entered the wood, and wended homeward. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII--CONCLUSION + + +Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and +clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went into the +kitchen of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner and John +cleaning the knives, and I said-- + +"Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning." The +housekeeper and her husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order of +people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate a remarkable piece +of news without incurring the danger of having one's ears pierced by some +shrill ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of wordy +wonderment. Mary did look up, and she did stare at me: the ladle with +which she was basting a pair of chickens roasting at the fire, did for +some three minutes hang suspended in air; and for the same space of time +John's knives also had rest from the polishing process: but Mary, bending +again over the roast, said only-- + +"Have you, Miss? Well, for sure!" + +A short time after she pursued--"I seed you go out with the master, but I +didn't know you were gone to church to be wed;" and she basted away. +John, when I turned to him, was grinning from ear to ear. + +"I telled Mary how it would be," he said: "I knew what Mr. Edward" (John +was an old servant, and had known his master when he was the cadet of the +house, therefore, he often gave him his Christian name)--"I knew what Mr. +Edward would do; and I was certain he would not wait long neither: and +he's done right, for aught I know. I wish you joy, Miss!" and he +politely pulled his forelock. + +"Thank you, John. Mr. Rochester told me to give you and Mary this." I +put into his hand a five-pound note. Without waiting to hear more, I +left the kitchen. In passing the door of that sanctum some time after, I +caught the words-- + +"She'll happen do better for him nor ony o't' grand ladies." And again, +"If she ben't one o' th' handsomest, she's noan faal and varry +good-natured; and i' his een she's fair beautiful, onybody may see that." + +I wrote to Moor House and to Cambridge immediately, to say what I had +done: fully explaining also why I had thus acted. Diana and Mary +approved the step unreservedly. Diana announced that she would just give +me time to get over the honeymoon, and then she would come and see me. + +"She had better not wait till then, Jane," said Mr. Rochester, when I +read her letter to him; "if she does, she will be too late, for our +honeymoon will shine our life long: its beams will only fade over your +grave or mine." + +How St. John received the news, I don't know: he never answered the +letter in which I communicated it: yet six months after he wrote to me, +without, however, mentioning Mr. Rochester's name or alluding to my +marriage. His letter was then calm, and, though very serious, kind. He +has maintained a regular, though not frequent, correspondence ever since: +he hopes I am happy, and trusts I am not of those who live without God in +the world, and only mind earthly things. + +You have not quite forgotten little Adele, have you, reader? I had not; +I soon asked and obtained leave of Mr. Rochester, to go and see her at +the school where he had placed her. Her frantic joy at beholding me +again moved me much. She looked pale and thin: she said she was not +happy. I found the rules of the establishment were too strict, its +course of study too severe for a child of her age: I took her home with +me. I meant to become her governess once more, but I soon found this +impracticable; my time and cares were now required by another--my husband +needed them all. So I sought out a school conducted on a more indulgent +system, and near enough to permit of my visiting her often, and bringing +her home sometimes. I took care she should never want for anything that +could contribute to her comfort: she soon settled in her new abode, +became very happy there, and made fair progress in her studies. As she +grew up, a sound English education corrected in a great measure her +French defects; and when she left school, I found in her a pleasing and +obliging companion: docile, good-tempered, and well-principled. By her +grateful attention to me and mine, she has long since well repaid any +little kindness I ever had it in my power to offer her. + +My tale draws to its close: one word respecting my experience of married +life, and one brief glance at the fortunes of those whose names have most +frequently recurred in this narrative, and I have done. + +I have now been married ten years. I know what it is to live entirely +for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely +blest--blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's +life as fully as he is mine. No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I +am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. I know +no weariness of my Edward's society: he knows none of mine, any more than +we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate +bosoms; consequently, we are ever together. To be together is for us to +be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I +believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but a more animated and +an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his +confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character--perfect +concord is the result. + +Mr. Rochester continued blind the first two years of our union; perhaps +it was that circumstance that drew us so very near--that knit us so very +close: for I was then his vision, as I am still his right hand. +Literally, I was (what he often called me) the apple of his eye. He saw +nature--he saw books through me; and never did I weary of gazing for his +behalf, and of putting into words the effect of field, tree, town, river, +cloud, sunbeam--of the landscape before us; of the weather round us--and +impressing by sound on his ear what light could no longer stamp on his +eye. Never did I weary of reading to him; never did I weary of +conducting him where he wished to go: of doing for him what he wished to +be done. And there was a pleasure in my services, most full, most +exquisite, even though sad--because he claimed these services without +painful shame or damping humiliation. He loved me so truly, that he knew +no reluctance in profiting by my attendance: he felt I loved him so +fondly, that to yield that attendance was to indulge my sweetest wishes. + +One morning at the end of the two years, as I was writing a letter to his +dictation, he came and bent over me, and said--"Jane, have you a +glittering ornament round your neck?" + +I had a gold watch-chain: I answered "Yes." + +"And have you a pale blue dress on?" + +{And have you a pale blue dress on?: p435.jpg} + +I had. He informed me then, that for some time he had fancied the +obscurity clouding one eye was becoming less dense; and that now he was +sure of it. + +He and I went up to London. He had the advice of an eminent oculist; and +he eventually recovered the sight of that one eye. He cannot now see +very distinctly: he cannot read or write much; but he can find his way +without being led by the hand: the sky is no longer a blank to him--the +earth no longer a void. When his first-born was put into his arms, he +could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once +were--large, brilliant, and black. On that occasion, he again, with a +full heart, acknowledged that God had tempered judgment with mercy. + +My Edward and I, then, are happy: and the more so, because those we most +love are happy likewise. Diana and Mary Rivers are both married: +alternately, once every year, they come to see us, and we go to see them. +Diana's husband is a captain in the navy, a gallant officer and a good +man. Mary's is a clergyman, a college friend of her brother's, and, from +his attainments and principles, worthy of the connection. Both Captain +Fitzjames and Mr. Wharton love their wives, and are loved by them. + +As to St. John Rivers, he left England: he went to India. He entered on +the path he had marked for himself; he pursues it still. A more +resolute, indefatigable pioneer never wrought amidst rocks and dangers. +Firm, faithful, and devoted, full of energy, and zeal, and truth, he +labours for his race; he clears their painful way to improvement; he hews +down like a giant the prejudices of creed and caste that encumber it. He +may be stern; he may be exacting; he may be ambitious yet; but his is the +sternness of the warrior Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from +the onslaught of Apollyon. His is the exaction of the apostle, who +speaks but for Christ, when he says--"Whosoever will come after me, let +him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me." His is the +ambition of the high master-spirit, which aims to fill a place in the +first rank of those who are redeemed from the earth--who stand without +fault before the throne of God, who share the last mighty victories of +the Lamb, who are called, and chosen, and faithful. + +St. John is unmarried: he never will marry now. Himself has hitherto +sufficed to the toil, and the toil draws near its close: his glorious sun +hastens to its setting. The last letter I received from him drew from my +eyes human tears, and yet filled my heart with divine joy: he anticipated +his sure reward, his incorruptible crown. I know that a stranger's hand +will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been +called at length into the joy of his Lord. And why weep for this? No +fear of death will darken St. John's last hour: his mind will be +unclouded, his heart will be undaunted, his hope will be sure, his faith +steadfast. His own words are a pledge of this-- + +"My Master," he says, "has forewarned me. Daily He announces more +distinctly,--'Surely I come quickly!' and hourly I more eagerly +respond,--'Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus!'" diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/MLK-Dream.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/MLK-Dream.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb3e773 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/MLK-Dream.txt @@ -0,0 +1,58 @@ +I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation. + +Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. + +But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. + +In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. + +It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check - a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children. + + +It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges. + +But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. + +We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. + +As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. + +I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. + +Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. + +I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. + +I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal." + +I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. + +I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. + +I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. + +I have a dream today. + +I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. + +I have a dream today. + +I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together. + +This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. + +This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring." + +And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania! + +Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado! + +Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California! + +But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia! + +Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee! + +Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring. + +And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!" diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Middlemarch.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Middlemarch.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..598aab5 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Middlemarch.txt @@ -0,0 +1,33662 @@ +Middlemarch + +By George Eliot + +New York and Boston H. M. Caldwell Company Publishers + +To my dear Husband, George Henry Lewes, +in this nineteenth year of our blessed union. + +PRELUDE + +Who that cares much to know the history of man, and how the mysterious +mixture behaves under the varying experiments of Time, has not dwelt, +at least briefly, on the life of Saint Theresa, has not smiled +with some gentleness at the thought of the little girl walking +forth one morning hand-in-hand with her still smaller brother, +to go and seek martyrdom in the country of the Moors? Out they toddled +from rugged Avila, wide-eyed and helpless-looking as two fawns, +but with human hearts, already beating to a national idea; until domestic +reality met them in the shape of uncles, and turned them back from +their great resolve. That child-pilgrimage was a fit beginning. +Theresa's passionate, ideal nature demanded an epic life: what were +many-volumed romances of chivalry and the social conquests of a +brilliant girl to her? Her flame quickly burned up that light fuel; +and, fed from within, soared after some illimitable satisfaction, +some object which would never justify weariness, which would reconcile +self-despair with the rapturous consciousness of life beyond self. +She found her epos in the reform of a religious order. + +That Spanish woman who lived three hundred years ago, was certainly +not the last of her kind. Many Theresas have been born who +found for themselves no epic life wherein there was a constant +unfolding of far-resonant action; perhaps only a life of mistakes, +the offspring of a certain spiritual grandeur ill-matched with +the meanness of opportunity; perhaps a tragic failure which found +no sacred poet and sank unwept into oblivion. With dim lights +and tangled circumstance they tried to shape their thought and deed +in noble agreement; but after all, to common eyes their struggles +seemed mere inconsistency and formlessness; for these later-born +Theresas were helped by no coherent social faith and order which could +perform the function of knowledge for the ardently willing soul. +Their ardor alternated between a vague ideal and the common yearning +of womanhood; so that the one was disapproved as extravagance, +and the other condemned as a lapse. + +Some have felt that these blundering lives are due to the +inconvenient indefiniteness with which the Supreme Power has +fashioned the natures of women: if there were one level of feminine +incompetence as strict as the ability to count three and no more, +the social lot of women might be treated with scientific certitude. +Meanwhile the indefiniteness remains, and the limits of variation +are really much wider than any one would imagine from the sameness +of women's coiffure and the favorite love-stories in prose and verse. +Here and there a cygnet is reared uneasily among the ducklings +in the brown pond, and never finds the living stream in fellowship +with its own oary-footed kind. Here and there is born a Saint Theresa, +foundress of nothing, whose loving heart-beats and sobs after an +unattained goodness tremble off and are dispersed among hindrances, +instead of centring in some long-recognizable deed. + +BOOK I. + +MISS BROOKE. + +---- + +CHAPTER I. + + "Since I can do no good because a woman, + Reach constantly at something that is near it. + --The Maid's Tragedy: BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. + +Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into +relief by poor dress. Her hand and wrist were so finely formed that +she could wear sleeves not less bare of style than those in which +the Blessed Virgin appeared to Italian painters; and her profile +as well as her stature and bearing seemed to gain the more dignity +from her plain garments, which by the side of provincial fashion +gave her the impressiveness of a fine quotation from the Bible,--or +from one of our elder poets,--in a paragraph of to-day's newspaper. +She was usually spoken of as being remarkably clever, but with the +addition that her sister Celia had more common-sense. Nevertheless, +Celia wore scarcely more trimmings; and it was only to close +observers that her dress differed from her sister's, and had a shade +of coquetry in its arrangements; for Miss Brooke's plain dressing +was due to mixed conditions, in most of which her sister shared. +The pride of being ladies had something to do with it: the Brooke +connections, though not exactly aristocratic, were unquestionably +"good:" if you inquired backward for a generation or two, you would +not find any yard-measuring or parcel-tying forefathers--anything +lower than an admiral or a clergyman; and there was even an ancestor +discernible as a Puritan gentleman who served under Cromwell, +but afterwards conformed, and managed to come out of all political +troubles as the proprietor of a respectable family estate. +Young women of such birth, living in a quiet country-house, +and attending a village church hardly larger than a parlor, +naturally regarded frippery as the ambition of a huckster's daughter. +Then there was well-bred economy, which in those days made show in +dress the first item to be deducted from, when any margin was required +for expenses more distinctive of rank. Such reasons would have been +enough to account for plain dress, quite apart from religious feeling; +but in Miss Brooke's case, religion alone would have determined it; +and Celia mildly acquiesced in all her sister's sentiments, +only infusing them with that common-sense which is able to accept +momentous doctrines without any eccentric agitation. Dorothea knew +many passages of Pascal's Pensees and of Jeremy Taylor by heart; +and to her the destinies of mankind, seen by the light of Christianity, +made the solicitudes of feminine fashion appear an occupation +for Bedlam. She could not reconcile the anxieties of a spiritual +life involving eternal consequences, with a keen interest in gimp +and artificial protrusions of drapery. Her mind was theoretic, +and yearned by its nature after some lofty conception of the world +which might frankly include the parish of Tipton and her own rule +of conduct there; she was enamoured of intensity and greatness, +and rash in embracing whatever seemed to her to have those aspects; +likely to seek martyrdom, to make retractations, and then to incur +martyrdom after all in a quarter where she had not sought it. +Certainly such elements in the character of a marriageable girl tended +to interfere with her lot, and hinder it from being decided according +to custom, by good looks, vanity, and merely canine affection. +With all this, she, the elder of the sisters, was not yet twenty, +and they had both been educated, since they were about twelve years old +and had lost their parents, on plans at once narrow and promiscuous, +first in an English family and afterwards in a Swiss family at Lausanne, +their bachelor uncle and guardian trying in this way to remedy the +disadvantages of their orphaned condition. + +It was hardly a year since they had come to live at Tipton Grange +with their uncle, a man nearly sixty, of acquiescent temper, +miscellaneous opinions, and uncertain vote. He had travelled +in his younger years, and was held in this part of the county +to have contracted a too rambling habit of mind. Mr. Brooke's +conclusions were as difficult to predict as the weather: it was +only safe to say that he would act with benevolent intentions, +and that he would spend as little money as possible in carrying +them out. For the most glutinously indefinite minds enclose some +hard grains of habit; and a man has been seen lax about all his +own interests except the retention of his snuff-box, concerning +which he was watchful, suspicious, and greedy of clutch. + +In Mr. Brooke the hereditary strain of Puritan energy was clearly +in abeyance; but in his niece Dorothea it glowed alike through faults +and virtues, turning sometimes into impatience of her uncle's talk +or his way of "letting things be" on his estate, and making her long +all the more for the time when she would be of age and have some +command of money for generous schemes. She was regarded as an heiress; +for not only had the sisters seven hundred a-year each from +their parents, but if Dorothea married and had a son, that son would +inherit Mr. Brooke's estate, presumably worth about three thousand +a-year--a rental which seemed wealth to provincial families, +still discussing Mr. Peel's late conduct on the Catholic question, +innocent of future gold-fields, and of that gorgeous plutocracy +which has so nobly exalted the necessities of genteel life. + +And how should Dorothea not marry?--a girl so handsome and with +such prospects? Nothing could hinder it but her love of extremes, +and her insistence on regulating life according to notions which +might cause a wary man to hesitate before he made her an offer, +or even might lead her at last to refuse all offers. A young lady +of some birth and fortune, who knelt suddenly down on a brick floor +by the side of a sick laborer and prayed fervidly as if she thought +herself living in the time of the Apostles--who had strange whims +of fasting like a Papist, and of sitting up at night to read old +theological books! Such a wife might awaken you some fine morning with +a new scheme for the application of her income which would interfere +with political economy and the keeping of saddle-horses: a man would +naturally think twice before he risked himself in such fellowship. +Women were expected to have weak opinions; but the great safeguard +of society and of domestic life was, that opinions were not acted on. +Sane people did what their neighbors did, so that if any lunatics +were at large, one might know and avoid them. + +The rural opinion about the new young ladies, even among the cottagers, +was generally in favor of Celia, as being so amiable and innocent-looking, +while Miss Brooke's large eyes seemed, like her religion, too unusual +and striking. Poor Dorothea! compared with her, the innocent-looking +Celia was knowing and worldly-wise; so much subtler is a human mind +than the outside tissues which make a sort of blazonry or clock-face for it. + +Yet those who approached Dorothea, though prejudiced against her +by this alarming hearsay, found that she had a charm unaccountably +reconcilable with it. Most men thought her bewitching when she +was on horseback. She loved the fresh air and the various aspects +of the country, and when her eyes and cheeks glowed with mingled +pleasure she looked very little like a devotee. Riding was an +indulgence which she allowed herself in spite of conscientious qualms; +she felt that she enjoyed it in a pagan sensuous way, and always +looked forward to renouncing it. + +She was open, ardent, and not in the least self-admiring; indeed, +it was pretty to see how her imagination adorned her sister Celia +with attractions altogether superior to her own, and if any gentleman +appeared to come to the Grange from some other motive than that of +seeing Mr. Brooke, she concluded that he must be in love with Celia: +Sir James Chettam, for example, whom she constantly considered from +Celia's point of view, inwardly debating whether it would be good +for Celia to accept him. That he should be regarded as a suitor +to herself would have seemed to her a ridiculous irrelevance. +Dorothea, with all her eagerness to know the truths of life, +retained very childlike ideas about marriage. She felt sure that +she would have accepted the judicious Hooker, if she had been born +in time to save him from that wretched mistake he made in matrimony; +or John Milton when his blindness had come on; or any of the other +great men whose odd habits it would have been glorious piety to endure; +but an amiable handsome baronet, who said "Exactly" to her remarks +even when she expressed uncertainty,--how could he affect her as a +lover? The really delightful marriage must be that where your husband +was a sort of father, and could teach you even Hebrew, if you wished it. + +These peculiarities of Dorothea's character caused Mr. Brooke +to be all the more blamed in neighboring families for not securing +some middle-aged lady as guide and companion to his nieces. +But he himself dreaded so much the sort of superior woman likely +to be available for such a position, that he allowed himself to be +dissuaded by Dorothea's objections, and was in this case brave enough +to defy the world--that is to say, Mrs. Cadwallader the Rector's wife, +and the small group of gentry with whom he visited in the northeast corner +of Loamshire. So Miss Brooke presided in her uncle's household, and +did not at all dislike her new authority, with the homage that belonged to it. + +Sir James Chettam was going to dine at the Grange to-day with +another gentleman whom the girls had never seen, and about whom +Dorothea felt some venerating expectation. This was the Reverend +Edward Casaubon, noted in the county as a man of profound learning, +understood for many years to be engaged on a great work concerning +religious history; also as a man of wealth enough to give lustre +to his piety, and having views of his own which were to be more +clearly ascertained on the publication of his book. His very name +carried an impressiveness hardly to be measured without a precise +chronology of scholarship. + +Early in the day Dorothea had returned from the infant school +which she had set going in the village, and was taking her usual +place in the pretty sitting-room which divided the bedrooms +of the sisters, bent on finishing a plan for some buildings (a +kind of work which she delighted in), when Celia, who had been +watching her with a hesitating desire to propose something, said-- + +"Dorothea, dear, if you don't mind--if you are not very busy--suppose we +looked at mamma's jewels to-day, and divided them? It is exactly six months +to-day since uncle gave them to you, and you have not looked at them yet." + +Celia's face had the shadow of a pouting expression in it, the full +presence of the pout being kept back by an habitual awe of Dorothea +and principle; two associated facts which might show a mysterious +electricity if you touched them incautiously. To her relief, +Dorothea's eyes were full of laughter as she looked up. + +"What a wonderful little almanac you are, Celia! Is it six calendar +or six lunar months?" + +"It is the last day of September now, and it was the first of +April when uncle gave them to you. You know, he said that he +had forgotten them till then. I believe you have never thought +of them since you locked them up in the cabinet here." + +"Well, dear, we should never wear them, you know." Dorothea spoke +in a full cordial tone, half caressing, half explanatory. +She had her pencil in her hand, and was making tiny side-plans +on a margin. + +Celia colored, and looked very grave. "I think, dear, we are +wanting in respect to mamma's memory, to put them by and take +no notice of them. And," she added, after hesitating a little, +with a rising sob of mortification, "necklaces are quite usual now; +and Madame Poincon, who was stricter in some things even than you are, +used to wear ornaments. And Christians generally--surely there are +women in heaven now who wore jewels." Celia was conscious of some +mental strength when she really applied herself to argument. + +"You would like to wear them?" exclaimed Dorothea, an air of astonished +discovery animating her whole person with a dramatic action which she +had caught from that very Madame Poincon who wore the ornaments. +"Of course, then, let us have them out. Why did you not tell me +before? But the keys, the keys!" She pressed her hands against +the sides of her head and seemed to despair of her memory. + +"They are here," said Celia, with whom this explanation had been +long meditated and prearranged. + +"Pray open the large drawer of the cabinet and get out the jewel-box." + +The casket was soon open before them, and the various jewels spread out, +making a bright parterre on the table. It was no great collection, +but a few of the ornaments were really of remarkable beauty, the finest +that was obvious at first being a necklace of purple amethysts set +in exquisite gold work, and a pearl cross with five brilliants in it. +Dorothea immediately took up the necklace and fastened it round +her sister's neck, where it fitted almost as closely as a bracelet; +but the circle suited the Henrietta-Maria style of Celia's head +and neck, and she could see that it did, in the pier-glass opposite. + +"There, Celia! you can wear that with your Indian muslin. +But this cross you must wear with your dark dresses." + +Celia was trying not to smile with pleasure. "O Dodo, you must +keep the cross yourself." + +"No, no, dear, no," said Dorothea, putting up her hand with +careless deprecation. + +"Yes, indeed you must; it would suit you--in your black dress, now," +said Celia, insistingly. "You MIGHT wear that." + +"Not for the world, not for the world. A cross is the last thing +I would wear as a trinket." Dorothea shuddered slightly. + +"Then you will think it wicked in me to wear it," said Celia, uneasily. + +"No, dear, no," said Dorothea, stroking her sister's cheek. +"Souls have complexions too: what will suit one will not suit another." + +"But you might like to keep it for mamma's sake." + +"No, I have other things of mamma's--her sandal-wood box which I am +so fond of--plenty of things. In fact, they are all yours, dear. +We need discuss them no longer. There--take away your property." + +Celia felt a little hurt. There was a strong assumption of superiority +in this Puritanic toleration, hardly less trying to the blond +flesh of an unenthusiastic sister than a Puritanic persecution. + +"But how can I wear ornaments if you, who are the elder sister, +will never wear them?" + +"Nay, Celia, that is too much to ask, that I should wear trinkets +to keep you in countenance. If I were to put on such a necklace +as that, I should feel as if I had been pirouetting. The world +would go round with me, and I should not know how to walk." + +Celia had unclasped the necklace and drawn it off. "It would be +a little tight for your neck; something to lie down and hang would +suit you better," she said, with some satisfaction. The complete +unfitness of the necklace from all points of view for Dorothea, +made Celia happier in taking it. She was opening some ring-boxes, +which disclosed a fine emerald with diamonds, and just then the sun +passing beyond a cloud sent a bright gleam over the table. + +"How very beautiful these gems are!" said Dorothea, under a new current +of feeling, as sudden as the gleam. "It is strange how deeply colors +seem to penetrate one, like scent I suppose that is the reason why +gems are used as spiritual emblems in the Revelation of St. John. +They look like fragments of heaven. I think that emerald is more +beautiful than any of them." + +"And there is a bracelet to match it," said Celia. "We did not +notice this at first." + +"They are lovely," said Dorothea, slipping the ring and bracelet +on her finely turned finger and wrist, and holding them towards +the window on a level with her eyes. All the while her thought +was trying to justify her delight in the colors by merging them +in her mystic religious joy. + +"You WOULD like those, Dorothea," said Celia, rather falteringly, +beginning to think with wonder that her sister showed some weakness, +and also that emeralds would suit her own complexion even better +than purple amethysts. "You must keep that ring and bracelet--if +nothing else. But see, these agates are very pretty and quiet." + +"Yes! I will keep these--this ring and bracelet," said Dorothea. +Then, letting her hand fall on the table, she said in another +tone--"Yet what miserable men find such things, and work at them, +and sell them!" She paused again, and Celia thought that her sister +was going to renounce the ornaments, as in consistency she ought +to do. + +"Yes, dear, I will keep these," said Dorothea, decidedly. "But take +all the rest away, and the casket." + +She took up her pencil without removing the jewels, and still +looking at them. She thought of often having them by her, to feed +her eye at these little fountains of pure color. + +"Shall you wear them in company?" said Celia, who was watching +her with real curiosity as to what she would do. + +Dorothea glanced quickly at her sister. Across all her imaginative +adornment of those whom she loved, there darted now and then +a keen discernment, which was not without a scorching quality. +If Miss Brooke ever attained perfect meekness, it would not be +for lack of inward fire. + +"Perhaps," she said, rather haughtily. "I cannot tell to what level +I may sink." + +Celia blushed, and was unhappy: she saw that she had offended +her sister, and dared not say even anything pretty about the gift +of the ornaments which she put back into the box and carried away. +Dorothea too was unhappy, as she went on with her plan-drawing, +questioning the purity of her own feeling and speech in the scene +which had ended with that little explosion. + +Celia's consciousness told her that she had not been at all in the +wrong: it was quite natural and justifiable that she should have +asked that question, and she repeated to herself that Dorothea was +inconsistent: either she should have taken her full share of the jewels, +or, after what she had said, she should have renounced them altogether. + +"I am sure--at least, I trust," thought Celia, "that the wearing +of a necklace will not interfere with my prayers. And I do not see +that I should be bound by Dorothea's opinions now we are going +into society, though of course she herself ought to be bound by them. +But Dorothea is not always consistent." + +Thus Celia, mutely bending over her tapestry, until she heard +her sister calling her. + +"Here, Kitty, come and look at my plan; I shall think I am +a great architect, if I have not got incompatible stairs and fireplaces." + +As Celia bent over the paper, Dorothea put her cheek against +her sister's arm caressingly. Celia understood the action. +Dorothea saw that she had been in the wrong, and Celia pardoned her. +Since they could remember, there had been a mixture of criticism +and awe in the attitude of Celia's mind towards her elder sister. +The younger had always worn a yoke; but is there any yoked creature +without its private opinions? + +CHAPTER II. + +"`Dime; no ves aquel caballero que hacia nosotros viene sobre un +caballo rucio rodado que trae puesto en la cabeza un yelmo de oro?' +`Lo que veo y columbro,' respondio Sancho, `no es sino un hombre +sobre un as no pardo como el mio, que trae sobre la cabeza una +cosa que relumbra.' `Pues ese es el yelmo de Mambrino,' dijo Don +Quijote."--CERVANTES. + +"`Seest thou not yon cavalier who cometh toward us on a +dapple-gray steed, and weareth a golden helmet?' `What I see,' +answered Sancho, `is nothing but a man on a gray ass like my own, +who carries something shiny on his head.' `Just so,' answered Don +Quixote: `and that resplendent object is the helmet of Mambrino.'" + +"Sir Humphry Davy?" said Mr. Brooke, over the soup, in his easy +smiling way, taking up Sir James Chettam's remark that he was studying +Davy's Agricultural Chemistry. "Well, now, Sir Humphry Davy; +I dined with him years ago at Cartwright's, and Wordsworth was there +too--the poet Wordsworth, you know. Now there was something singular. +I was at Cambridge when Wordsworth was there, and I never met him--and +I dined with him twenty years afterwards at Cartwright's. There's +an oddity in things, now. But Davy was there: he was a poet too. +Or, as I may say, Wordsworth was poet one, and Davy was poet two. +That was true in every sense, you know." + +Dorothea felt a little more uneasy than usual. In the beginning +of dinner, the party being small and the room still, these motes from +the mass of a magistrate's mind fell too noticeably. She wondered +how a man like Mr. Casaubon would support such triviality. His manners, +she thought, were very dignified; the set of his iron-gray hair +and his deep eye-sockets made him resemble the portrait of Locke. +He had the spare form and the pale complexion which became a student; +as different as possible from the blooming Englishman of the +red-whiskered type represented by Sir James Chettam. + +"I am reading the Agricultural Chemistry," said this excellent baronet, +"because I am going to take one of the farms into my own hands, +and see if something cannot be done in setting a good pattern +of farming among my tenants. Do you approve of that, Miss Brooke?" + +"A great mistake, Chettam," interposed Mr. Brooke, "going into +electrifying your land and that kind of thing, and making a parlor +of your cow-house. It won't do. I went into science a great deal +myself at one time; but I saw it would not do. It leads to everything; +you can let nothing alone. No, no--see that your tenants don't sell +their straw, and that kind of thing; and give them draining-tiles, +you know. But your fancy farming will not do--the most expensive +sort of whistle you can buy: you may as well keep a pack of hounds." + +"Surely," said Dorothea, "it is better to spend money in finding +out how men can make the most of the land which supports them all, +than in keeping dogs and horses only to gallop over it. It is not +a sin to make yourself poor in performing experiments for the good +of all." + +She spoke with more energy than is expected of so young a lady, +but Sir James had appealed to her. He was accustomed to do so, +and she had often thought that she could urge him to many good actions +when he was her brother-in-law. + +Mr. Casaubon turned his eyes very markedly on Dorothea while she +was speaking, and seemed to observe her newly. + +"Young ladies don't understand political economy, you know," +said Mr. Brooke, smiling towards Mr. Casaubon. "I remember when we +were all reading Adam Smith. THERE is a book, now. I took in all +the new ideas at one time--human perfectibility, now. But some say, +history moves in circles; and that may be very well argued; I have +argued it myself. The fact is, human reason may carry you a little +too far--over the hedge, in fact. It carried me a good way at one time; +but I saw it would not do. I pulled up; I pulled up in time. +But not too hard. I have always been in favor of a little theory: we +must have Thought; else we shall be landed back in the dark ages. +But talking of books, there is Southey's `Peninsular War.' I am +reading that of a morning. You know Southey?" + +"No" said Mr. Casaubon, not keeping pace with Mr. Brooke's impetuous +reason, and thinking of the book only. "I have little leisure for +such literature just now. I have been using up my eyesight on old +characters lately; the fact is, I want a reader for my evenings; +but I am fastidious in voices, and I cannot endure listening to +an imperfect reader. It is a misfortune, in some senses: I feed +too much on the inward sources; I live too much with the dead. +My mind is something like the ghost of an ancient, wandering about +the world and trying mentally to construct it as it used to be, +in spite of ruin and confusing changes. But I find it necessary +to use the utmost caution about my eyesight." + +This was the first time that Mr. Casaubon had spoken at any length. +He delivered himself with precision, as if he had been called upon +to make a public statement; and the balanced sing-song neatness of +his speech, occasionally corresponded to by a movement of his head, +was the more conspicuous from its contrast with good Mr. Brooke's +scrappy slovenliness. Dorothea said to herself that Mr. Casaubon +was the most interesting man she had ever seen, not excepting even +Monsieur Liret, the Vaudois clergyman who had given conferences +on the history of the Waldenses. To reconstruct a past world, +doubtless with a view to the highest purposes of truth--what +a work to be in any way present at, to assist in, though only +as a lamp-holder! This elevating thought lifted her above her +annoyance at being twitted with her ignorance of political economy, +that never-explained science which was thrust as an extinguisher +over all her lights. + +"But you are fond of riding, Miss Brooke," Sir James presently took +an opportunity of saying. "I should have thought you would enter +a little into the pleasures of hunting. I wish you would let me +send over a chestnut horse for you to try. It has been trained +for a lady. I saw you on Saturday cantering over the hill on a nag +not worthy of you. My groom shall bring Corydon for you every day, +if you will only mention the time." + +"Thank you, you are very good. I mean to give up riding. +I shall not ride any more," said Dorothea, urged to this brusque +resolution by a little annoyance that Sir James would be soliciting +her attention when she wanted to give it all to Mr. Casaubon. + +"No, that is too hard," said Sir James, in a tone of reproach that +showed strong interest. "Your sister is given to self-mortification, +is she not?" he continued, turning to Celia, who sat at his right hand. + +"I think she is," said Celia, feeling afraid lest she should say +something that would not please her sister, and blushing as prettily +as possible above her necklace. "She likes giving up." + +"If that were true, Celia, my giving-up would be self-indulgence, +not self-mortification. But there may be good reasons for choosing +not to do what is very agreeable," said Dorothea. + +Mr. Brooke was speaking at the same time, but it was evident +that Mr. Casaubon was observing Dorothea, and she was aware of it. + +"Exactly," said Sir James. "You give up from some high, generous motive." + +"No, indeed, not exactly. I did not say that of myself," +answered Dorothea, reddening. Unlike Celia, she rarely blushed, +and only from high delight or anger. At this moment she felt angry +with the perverse Sir James. Why did he not pay attention to Celia, +and leave her to listen to Mr. Casaubon?--if that learned man would +only talk, instead of allowing himself to be talked to by Mr. Brooke, +who was just then informing him that the Reformation either meant +something or it did not, that he himself was a Protestant to the core, +but that Catholicism was a fact; and as to refusing an acre +of your ground for a Romanist chapel, all men needed the bridle +of religion, which, properly speaking, was the dread of a Hereafter. + +"I made a great study of theology at one time," said Mr. Brooke, +as if to explain the insight just manifested. "I know something +of all schools. I knew Wilberforce in his best days. Do you +know Wilberforce?" + +Mr. Casaubon said, "No." + +"Well, Wilberforce was perhaps not enough of a thinker; but if I +went into Parliament, as I have been asked to do, I should sit on +the independent bench, as Wilberforce did, and work at philanthropy." + +Mr. Casaubon bowed, and observed that it was a wide field. + +"Yes," said Mr. Brooke, with an easy smile, "but I have documents. +I began a long while ago to collect documents. They want arranging, +but when a question has struck me, I have written to somebody and got +an answer. I have documents at my back. But now, how do you arrange +your documents?" + +"In pigeon-holes partly," said Mr. Casaubon, with rather a startled +air of effort. + +"Ah, pigeon-holes will not do. I have tried pigeon-holes, but everything +gets mixed in pigeon-holes: I never know whether a paper is in A or Z." + +"I wish you would let me sort your papers for you, uncle," said Dorothea. +"I would letter them all, and then make a list of subjects under each letter." + +Mr. Casaubon gravely smiled approval, and said to Mr. Brooke, +"You have an excellent secretary at hand, you perceive." + +"No, no," said Mr. Brooke, shaking his head; "I cannot let young +ladies meddle with my documents. Young ladies are too flighty." + +Dorothea felt hurt. Mr. Casaubon would think that her uncle had +some special reason for delivering this opinion, whereas the remark +lay in his mind as lightly as the broken wing of an insect among +all the other fragments there, and a chance current had sent it +alighting on HER. + +When the two girls were in the drawing-room alone, Celia said-- + +"How very ugly Mr. Casaubon is!" + +"Celia! He is one of the most distinguished-looking men I ever saw. +He is remarkably like the portrait of Locke. He has the same +deep eye-sockets." + +"Had Locke those two white moles with hairs on them?" + +"Oh, I dare say! when people of a certain sort looked at him," +said Dorothea, walking away a little. + +"Mr. Casaubon is so sallow." + +"All the better. I suppose you admire a man with the complexion +of a cochon de lait." + +"Dodo!" exclaimed Celia, looking after her in surprise. "I never +heard you make such a comparison before." + +"Why should I make it before the occasion came? It is a good +comparison: the match is perfect." + +Miss Brooke was clearly forgetting herself, and Celia thought so. + +"I wonder you show temper, Dorothea." + +"It is so painful in you, Celia, that you will look at human +beings as if they were merely animals with a toilet, and never +see the great soul in a man's face." + +"Has Mr. Casaubon a great soul?" Celia was not without a touch +of naive malice. + +"Yes, I believe he has," said Dorothea, with the full voice +of decision. "Everything I see in him corresponds to his pamphlet +on Biblical Cosmology." + +"He talks very little," said Celia + +"There is no one for him to talk to." + +Celia thought privately, "Dorothea quite despises Sir James Chettam; +I believe she would not accept him." Celia felt that this was a pity. +She had never been deceived as to the object of the baronet's interest. +Sometimes, indeed, she had reflected that Dodo would perhaps not +make a husband happy who had not her way of looking at things; +and stifled in the depths of her heart was the feeling that her sister +was too religious for family comfort. Notions and scruples were +like spilt needles, making one afraid of treading, or sitting down, +or even eating. + +When Miss Brooke was at the tea-table, Sir James came to sit down +by her, not having felt her mode of answering him at all offensive. +Why should he? He thought it probable that Miss Brooke liked him, +and manners must be very marked indeed before they cease to be +interpreted by preconceptions either confident or distrustful. +She was thoroughly charming to him, but of course he theorized a +little about his attachment. He was made of excellent human dough, +and had the rare merit of knowing that his talents, even if let loose, +would not set the smallest stream in the county on fire: hence he +liked the prospect of a wife to whom he could say, "What shall we do?" +about this or that; who could help her husband out with reasons, +and would also have the property qualification for doing so. +As to the excessive religiousness alleged against Miss Brooke, +he had a very indefinite notion of what it consisted in, and thought +that it would die out with marriage. In short, he felt himself +to be in love in the right place, and was ready to endure a great +deal of predominance, which, after all, a man could always put +down when he liked. Sir James had no idea that he should ever +like to put down the predominance of this handsome girl, in whose +cleverness he delighted. Why not? A man's mind--what there is of +it--has always the advantage of being masculine,--as the smallest +birch-tree is of a higher kind than the most soaring palm,--and +even his ignorance is of a sounder quality. Sir James might not +have originated this estimate; but a kind Providence furnishes +the limpest personality with a little gunk or starch in the form +of tradition. + +"Let me hope that you will rescind that resolution about the horse, +Miss Brooke," said the persevering admirer. "I assure you, +riding is the most healthy of exercises." + +"I am aware of it," said Dorothea, coldly. "I think it would +do Celia good--if she would take to it." + +"But you are such a perfect horsewoman." + +"Excuse me; I have had very little practice, and I should be +easily thrown." + +"Then that is a reason for more practice. Every lady ought to be +a perfect horsewoman, that she may accompany her husband." + +"You see how widely we differ, Sir James. I have made up my mind that I +ought not to be a perfect horsewoman, and so I should never correspond +to your pattern of a lady." Dorothea looked straight before her, +and spoke with cold brusquerie, very much with the air of a handsome boy, +in amusing contrast with the solicitous amiability of her admirer. + +"I should like to know your reasons for this cruel resolution. +It is not possible that you should think horsemanship wrong." + +"It is quite possible that I should think it wrong for me." + +"Oh, why?" said Sir James, in a tender tone of remonstrance. + +Mr. Casaubon had come up to the table, teacup in hand, and was listening. + +"We must not inquire too curiously into motives," he interposed, +in his measured way. "Miss Brooke knows that they are apt to become +feeble in the utterance: the aroma is mixed with the grosser air. +We must keep the germinating grain away from the light." + +Dorothea colored with pleasure, and looked up gratefully to the speaker. +Here was a man who could understand the higher inward life, +and with whom there could be some spiritual communion; nay, who could +illuminate principle with the widest knowledge a man whose learning +almost amounted to a proof of whatever he believed! + +Dorothea's inferences may seem large; but really life could never have +gone on at any period but for this liberal allowance of conclusions, +which has facilitated marriage under the difficulties of civilization. +Has any one ever pinched into its pilulous smallness the cobweb +of pre-matrimonial acquaintanceship? + +"Certainly," said good Sir James. "Miss Brooke shall not be urged +to tell reasons she would rather be silent upon. I am sure her +reasons would do her honor." + +He was not in the least jealous of the interest with which Dorothea +had looked up at Mr. Casaubon: it never occurred to him that a girl +to whom he was meditating an offer of marriage could care for a dried +bookworm towards fifty, except, indeed, in a religious sort of way, +as for a clergyman of some distinction. + +However, since Miss Brooke had become engaged in a conversation +with Mr. Casaubon about the Vaudois clergy, Sir James betook +himself to Celia, and talked to her about her sister; spoke of a +house in town, and asked whether Miss Brooke disliked London. +Away from her sister, Celia talked quite easily, and Sir James +said to himself that the second Miss Brooke was certainly very +agreeable as well as pretty, though not, as some people pretended, +more clever and sensible than the elder sister. He felt that he +had chosen the one who was in all respects the superior; and a man +naturally likes to look forward to having the best. He would +be the very Mawworm of bachelors who pretended not to expect it. + +CHAPTER III. + + "Say, goddess, what ensued, when Raphael, + The affable archangel . . . + Eve + The story heard attentive, and was filled + With admiration, and deep muse, to hear + Of things so high and strange." + --Paradise Lost, B. vii. + +If it had really occurred to Mr. Casaubon to think of Miss +Brooke as a suitable wife for him, the reasons that might induce +her to accept him were already planted in her mind, and by the +evening of the next day the reasons had budded and bloomed. +For they had had a long conversation in the morning, while Celia, +who did not like the company of Mr. Casaubon's moles and sallowness, +had escaped to the vicarage to play with the curate's ill-shod +but merry children. + +Dorothea by this time had looked deep into the ungauged reservoir +of Mr. Casaubon's mind, seeing reflected there in vague labyrinthine +extension every quality she herself brought; had opened much of +her own experience to him, and had understood from him the scope +of his great work, also of attractively labyrinthine extent. +For he had been as instructive as Milton's "affable archangel;" +and with something of the archangelic manner he told her how he had +undertaken to show (what indeed had been attempted before, but not +with that thoroughness, justice of comparison, and effectiveness +of arrangement at which Mr. Casaubon aimed) that all the mythical +systems or erratic mythical fragments in the world were corruptions +of a tradition originally revealed. Having once mastered the true +position and taken a firm footing there, the vast field of mythical +constructions became intelligible, nay, luminous with the reflected +light of correspondences. But to gather in this great harvest +of truth was no light or speedy work. His notes already made +a formidable range of volumes, but the crowning task would be to +condense these voluminous still-accumulating results and bring them, +like the earlier vintage of Hippocratic books, to fit a little shelf. +In explaining this to Dorothea, Mr. Casaubon expressed himself nearly +as he would have done to a fellow-student, for he had not two styles +of talking at command: it is true that when he used a Greek or Latin +phrase he always gave the English with scrupulous care, but he would +probably have done this in any case. A learned provincial clergyman +is accustomed to think of his acquaintances as of "lords, knyghtes, +and other noble and worthi men, that conne Latyn but lytille." + +Dorothea was altogether captivated by the wide embrace +of this conception. Here was something beyond the shallows +of ladies' school literature: here was a living Bossuet, +whose work would reconcile complete knowledge with devoted piety; +here was a modern Augustine who united the glories of doctor and saint. + +The sanctity seemed no less clearly marked than the learning, +for when Dorothea was impelled to open her mind on certain themes +which she could speak of to no one whom she had before seen at Tipton, +especially on the secondary importance of ecclesiastical forms +and articles of belief compared with that spiritual religion, +that submergence of self in communion with Divine perfection +which seemed to her to be expressed in the best Christian books +of widely distant ages, she found in Mr. Casaubon a listener +who understood her at once, who could assure her of his own +agreement with that view when duly tempered with wise conformity, +and could mention historical examples before unknown to her. + +"He thinks with me," said Dorothea to herself, "or rather, he thinks +a whole world of which my thought is but a poor twopenny mirror. +And his feelings too, his whole experience--what a lake compared +with my little pool!" + +Miss Brooke argued from words and dispositions not less unhesitatingly +than other young ladies of her age. Signs are small measurable things, +but interpretations are illimitable, and in girls of sweet, +ardent nature, every sign is apt to conjure up wonder, hope, belief, +vast as a sky, and colored by a diffused thimbleful of matter in +the shape of knowledge. They are not always too grossly deceived; +for Sinbad himself may have fallen by good-luck on a true description, +and wrong reasoning sometimes lands poor mortals in right conclusions: +starting a long way off the true point, and proceeding by loops +and zigzags, we now and then arrive just where we ought to be. +Because Miss Brooke was hasty in her trust, it is not therefore +clear that Mr. Casaubon was unworthy of it. + +He stayed a little longer than he had intended, on a slight pressure +of invitation from Mr. Brooke, who offered no bait except his own +documents on machine-breaking and rick-burning. Mr. Casaubon was +called into the library to look at these in a heap, while his host +picked up first one and then the other to read aloud from in a +skipping and uncertain way, passing from one unfinished passage +to another with a "Yes, now, but here!" and finally pushing them +all aside to open the journal of his youthful Continental travels. + +"Look here--here is all about Greece. Rhamnus, the ruins of +Rhamnus--you are a great Grecian, now. I don't know whether you +have given much study to the topography. I spent no end of time +in making out these things--Helicon, now. Here, now!--`We started +the next morning for Parnassus, the double-peaked Parnassus.' +All this volume is about Greece, you know," Mr. Brooke wound up, +rubbing his thumb transversely along the edges of the leaves as he +held the book forward. + +Mr. Casaubon made a dignified though somewhat sad audience; +bowed in the right place, and avoided looking at anything documentary +as far as possible, without showing disregard or impatience; +mindful that this desultoriness was associated with the institutions +of the country, and that the man who took him on this severe mental +scamper was not only an amiable host, but a landholder and +custos rotulorum. Was his endurance aided also by the reflection +that Mr. Brooke was the uncle of Dorothea? + +Certainly he seemed more and more bent on making her talk to him, +on drawing her out, as Celia remarked to herself; and in looking at +her his face was often lit up by a smile like pale wintry sunshine. +Before he left the next morning, while taking a pleasant walk with Miss +Brooke along the gravelled terrace, he had mentioned to her that he +felt the disadvantage of loneliness, the need of that cheerful +companionship with which the presence of youth can lighten or vary +the serious toils of maturity. And he delivered this statement +with as much careful precision as if he had been a diplomatic envoy +whose words would be attended with results. Indeed, Mr. Casaubon +was not used to expect that he should have to repeat or revise his +communications of a practical or personal kind. The inclinations +which he had deliberately stated on the 2d of October he would think +it enough to refer to by the mention of that date; judging by the +standard of his own memory, which was a volume where a vide supra +could serve instead of repetitions, and not the ordinary long-used +blotting-book which only tells of forgotten writing. But in this +case Mr. Casaubon's confidence was not likely to be falsified, +for Dorothea heard and retained what he said with the eager interest +of a fresh young nature to which every variety in experience is an epoch. + +It was three o'clock in the beautiful breezy autumn day when Mr. Casaubon +drove off to his Rectory at Lowick, only five miles from Tipton; +and Dorothea, who had on her bonnet and shawl, hurried along the shrubbery +and across the park that she might wander through the bordering wood +with no other visible companionship than that of Monk, the Great +St. Bernard dog, who always took care of the young ladies in their walks. +There had risen before her the girl's vision of a possible future +for herself to which she looked forward with trembling hope, and she +wanted to wander on in that visionary future without interruption. +She walked briskly in the brisk air, the color rose in her cheeks, +and her straw bonnet (which our contemporaries might look at +with conjectural curiosity as at an obsolete form of basket) +fell a little backward. She would perhaps be hardly characterized +enough if it were omitted that she wore her brown hair flatly braided +and coiled behind so as to expose the outline of her head in a +daring manner at a time when public feeling required the meagreness +of nature to be dissimulated by tall barricades of frizzed curls +and bows, never surpassed by any great race except the Feejeean. +This was a trait of Miss Brooke's asceticism. But there was nothing +of an ascetic's expression in her bright full eyes, as she looked +before her, not consciously seeing, but absorbing into the intensity +of her mood, the solemn glory of the afternoon with its long swathes +of light between the far-off rows of limes, whose shadows touched each other. + +All people, young or old (that is, all people in those ante-reform +times), would have thought her an interesting object if they had +referred the glow in her eyes and cheeks to the newly awakened ordinary +images of young love: the illusions of Chloe about Strephon have been +sufficiently consecrated in poetry, as the pathetic loveliness of all +spontaneous trust ought to be. Miss Pippin adoring young Pumpkin, +and dreaming along endless vistas of unwearying companionship, +was a little drama which never tired our fathers and mothers, +and had been put into all costumes. Let but Pumpkin have a +figure which would sustain the disadvantages of the shortwaisted +swallow-tail, and everybody felt it not only natural but necessary +to the perfection of womanhood, that a sweet girl should be at once +convinced of his virtue, his exceptional ability, and above all, +his perfect sincerity. But perhaps no persons then living--certainly +none in the neighborhood of Tipton--would have had a sympathetic +understanding for the dreams of a girl whose notions about marriage +took their color entirely from an exalted enthusiasm about the ends +of life, an enthusiasm which was lit chiefly by its own fire, +and included neither the niceties of the trousseau, the pattern +of plate, nor even the honors and sweet joys of the blooming matron. + +It had now entered Dorothea's mind that Mr. Casaubon might wish +to make her his wife, and the idea that he would do so touched +her with a sort of reverential gratitude. How good of him--nay, it +would be almost as if a winged messenger had suddenly stood beside +her path and held out his hand towards her! For a long while she +had been oppressed by the indefiniteness which hung in her mind, +like a thick summer haze, over all her desire to made her life +greatly effective. What could she do, what ought she to do?--she, +hardly more than a budding woman, but yet with an active conscience +and a great mental need, not to be satisfied by a girlish instruction +comparable to the nibblings and judgments of a discursive mouse. +With some endowment of stupidity and conceit, she might have thought +that a Christian young lady of fortune should find her ideal of life +in village charities, patronage of the humbler clergy, the perusal +of "Female Scripture Characters," unfolding the private experience +of Sara under the Old Dispensation, and Dorcas under the New, +and the care of her soul over her embroidery in her own boudoir--with +a background of prospective marriage to a man who, if less strict +than herself, as being involved in affairs religiously inexplicable, +might be prayed for and seasonably exhorted. From such contentment poor +Dorothea was shut out. The intensity of her religious disposition, +the coercion it exercised over her life, was but one aspect of a +nature altogether ardent, theoretic, and intellectually consequent: +and with such a nature struggling in the bands of a narrow teaching, +hemmed in by a social life which seemed nothing but a labyrinth +of petty courses, a walled-in maze of small paths that led +no whither, the outcome was sure to strike others as at once +exaggeration and inconsistency. The thing which seemed to her best, +she wanted to justify by the completest knowledge; and not to live +in a pretended admission of rules which were never acted on. +Into this soul-hunger as yet all her youthful passion was poured; +the union which attracted her was one that would deliver her from her +girlish subjection to her own ignorance, and give her the freedom of +voluntary submission to a guide who would take her along the grandest path. + +"I should learn everything then," she said to herself, still walking +quickly along the bridle road through the wood. "It would be my +duty to study that I might help him the better in his great works. +There would be nothing trivial about our lives. Every-day things with us +would mean the greatest things. It would be like marrying Pascal. +I should learn to see the truth by the same light as great men have seen +it by. And then I should know what to do, when I got older: I should +see how it was possible to lead a grand life here--now--in England. +I don't feel sure about doing good in any way now: everything +seems like going on a mission to a people whose language I don't +know;--unless it were building good cottages--there can be no +doubt about that. Oh, I hope I should be able to get the people +well housed in Lowick! I will draw plenty of plans while I have time." + +Dorothea checked herself suddenly with self-rebuke for the +presumptuous way in which she was reckoning on uncertain events, +but she was spared any inward effort to change the direction of her +thoughts by the appearance of a cantering horseman round a turning +of the road. The well-groomed chestnut horse and two beautiful +setters could leave no doubt that the rider was Sir James Chettam. +He discerned Dorothea, jumped off his horse at once, and, having +delivered it to his groom, advanced towards her with something white +on his arm, at which the two setters were barking in an excited manner. + +"How delightful to meet you, Miss Brooke," he said, raising his +hat and showing his sleekly waving blond hair. "It has hastened +the pleasure I was looking forward to." + +Miss Brooke was annoyed at the interruption. This amiable baronet, +really a suitable husband for Celia, exaggerated the necessity +of making himself agreeable to the elder sister. Even a prospective +brother-in-law may be an oppression if he will always be presupposing +too good an understanding with you, and agreeing with you even +when you contradict him. The thought that he had made the mistake +of paying his addresses to herself could not take shape: all her +mental activity was used up in persuasions of another kind. +But he was positively obtrusive at this moment, and his dimpled hands +were quite disagreeable. Her roused temper made her color deeply, +as she returned his greeting with some haughtiness. + +Sir James interpreted the heightened color in the way most gratifying +to himself, and thought he never saw Miss Brooke looking so handsome. + +"I have brought a little petitioner," he said, "or rather, +I have brought him to see if he will be approved before his +petition is offered." He showed the white object under his arm, +which was a tiny Maltese puppy, one of nature's most naive toys. + +"It is painful to me to see these creatures that are bred merely +as pets," said Dorothea, whose opinion was forming itself that +very moment (as opinions will) under the heat of irritation. + +"Oh, why?" said Sir James, as they walked forward. + +"I believe all the petting that is given them does not make +them happy. They are too helpless: their lives are too frail. +A weasel or a mouse that gets its own living is more interesting. +I like to think that the animals about us have souls something +like our own, and either carry on their own little affairs or can be +companions to us, like Monk here. Those creatures are parasitic." + +"I am so glad I know that you do not like them," said good Sir James. +"I should never keep them for myself, but ladies usually are fond +of these Maltese dogs. Here, John, take this dog, will you?" + +The objectionable puppy, whose nose and eyes were equally black +and expressive, was thus got rid of, since Miss Brooke decided +that it had better not have been born. But she felt it necessary +to explain. + +"You must not judge of Celia's feeling from mine. I think she likes +these small pets. She had a tiny terrier once, which she was very +fond of. It made me unhappy, because I was afraid of treading on it. +I am rather short-sighted." + +"You have your own opinion about everything, Miss Brooke, and it +is always a good opinion." + +What answer was possible to such stupid complimenting? + +"Do you know, I envy you that," Sir James said, as they continued +walking at the rather brisk pace set by Dorothea. + +"I don't quite understand what you mean." + +"Your power of forming an opinion. I can form an opinion of persons. +I know when I like people. But about other matters, do you know, +I have often a difficulty in deciding. One hears very sensible things +said on opposite sides." + +"Or that seem sensible. Perhaps we don't always discriminate +between sense and nonsense." + +Dorothea felt that she was rather rude. + +"Exactly," said Sir James. "But you seem to have the power +of discrimination." + +"On the contrary, I am often unable to decide. But that is +from ignorance. The right conclusion is there all the same, +though I am unable to see it." + +"I think there are few who would see it more readily. Do you know, +Lovegood was telling me yesterday that you had the best notion in +the world of a plan for cottages--quite wonderful for a young lady, +he thought. You had a real GENUS, to use his expression. +He said you wanted Mr. Brooke to build a new set of cottages, but he +seemed to think it hardly probable that your uncle would consent. +Do you know, that is one of the things I wish to do--I mean, on my +own estate. I should be so glad to carry out that plan of yours, +if you would let me see it. Of course, it is sinking money; +that is why people object to it. Laborers can never pay rent to make +it answer. But, after all, it is worth doing." + +"Worth doing! yes, indeed," said Dorothea, energetically, forgetting +her previous small vexations. "I think we deserve to be beaten +out of our beautiful houses with a scourge of small cords--all +of us who let tenants live in such sties as we see round us. +Life in cottages might be happier than ours, if they were real +houses fit for human beings from whom we expect duties and affections." + +"Will you show me your plan?" + +"Yes, certainly. I dare say it is very faulty. But I have been +examining all the plans for cottages in Loudon's book, and picked +out what seem the best things. Oh what a happiness it would be to +set the pattern about here! I think instead of Lazarus at the gate, +we should put the pigsty cottages outside the park-gate." + +Dorothea was in the best temper now. Sir James, as brother in-law, +building model cottages on his estate, and then, perhaps, others being +built at Lowick, and more and more elsewhere in imitation--it +would be as if the spirit of Oberlin had passed over the parishes +to make the life of poverty beautiful! + +Sir James saw all the plans, and took one away to consult upon +with Lovegood. He also took away a complacent sense that he was +making great progress in Miss Brooke's good opinion. The Maltese +puppy was not offered to Celia; an omission which Dorothea +afterwards thought of with surprise; but she blamed herself for it. +She had been engrossing Sir James. After all, it was a relief +that there was no puppy to tread upon. + +Celia was present while the plans were being examined, and observed +Sir James's illusion. "He thinks that Dodo cares about him, +and she only cares about her plans. Yet I am not certain that she +would refuse him if she thought he would let her manage everything +and carry out all her notions. And how very uncomfortable Sir +James would be! I cannot bear notions." + +It was Celia's private luxury to indulge in this dislike. +She dared not confess it to her sister in any direct statement, +for that would be laying herself open to a demonstration that +she was somehow or other at war with all goodness. But on +safe opportunities, she had an indirect mode of making her negative +wisdom tell upon Dorothea, and calling her down from her rhapsodic +mood by reminding her that people were staring, not listening. +Celia was not impulsive: what she had to say could wait, +and came from her always with the same quiet staccato evenness. +When people talked with energy and emphasis she watched their faces +and features merely. She never could understand how well-bred +persons consented to sing and open their mouths in the ridiculous +manner requisite for that vocal exercise. + +It was not many days before Mr. Casaubon paid a morning visit, +on which he was invited again for the following week to dine and stay +the night. Thus Dorothea had three more conversations with him, +and was convinced that her first impressions had been just. +He was all she had at first imagined him to be: almost everything +he had said seemed like a specimen from a mine, or the inscription +on the door of a museum which might open on the treasures of +past ages; and this trust in his mental wealth was all the deeper +and more effective on her inclination because it was now obvious +that his visits were made for her sake. This accomplished +man condescended to think of a young girl, and take the pains +to talk to her, not with absurd compliment, but with an appeal +to her understanding, and sometimes with instructive correction. +What delightful companionship! Mr. Casaubon seemed even unconscious +that trivialities existed, and never handed round that small-talk +of heavy men which is as acceptable as stale bride-cake brought forth +with an odor of cupboard. He talked of what he was interested in, +or else he was silent and bowed with sad civility. To Dorothea +this was adorable genuineness, and religious abstinence from that +artificiality which uses up the soul in the efforts of pretence. +For she looked as reverently at Mr. Casaubon's religious elevation +above herself as she did at his intellect and learning. +He assented to her expressions of devout feeling, and usually with +an appropriate quotation; he allowed himself to say that he had gone +through some spiritual conflicts in his youth; in short, Dorothea saw +that here she might reckon on understanding, sympathy, and guidance. +On one--only one--of her favorite themes she was disappointed. +Mr. Casaubon apparently did not care about building cottages, +and diverted the talk to the extremely narrow accommodation +which was to be had in the dwellings of the ancient Egyptians, +as if to check a too high standard. After he was gone, +Dorothea dwelt with some agitation on this indifference of his; +and her mind was much exercised with arguments drawn from the varying +conditions of climate which modify human needs, and from the admitted +wickedness of pagan despots. Should she not urge these arguments +on Mr. Casaubon when he came again? But further reflection told +her that she was presumptuous in demanding his attention to such +a subject; he would not disapprove of her occupying herself with it +in leisure moments, as other women expected to occupy themselves +with their dress and embroidery--would not forbid it when--Dorothea +felt rather ashamed as she detected herself in these speculations. +But her uncle had been invited to go to Lowick to stay a couple +of days: was it reasonable to suppose that Mr. Casaubon delighted +in Mr. Brooke's society for its own sake, either with or without +documents? + +Meanwhile that little disappointment made her delight the more in Sir +James Chettam's readiness to set on foot the desired improvements. +He came much oftener than Mr. Casaubon, and Dorothea ceased to find him +disagreeable since he showed himself so entirely in earnest; for he had +already entered with much practical ability into Lovegood's estimates, +and was charmingly docile. She proposed to build a couple of cottages, +and transfer two families from their old cabins, which could then +be pulled down, so that new ones could be built on the old sites. +Sir James said "Exactly," and she bore the word remarkably well. + +Certainly these men who had so few spontaneous ideas might be very +useful members of society under good feminine direction, if they were +fortunate in choosing their sisters-in-law! It is difficult to say +whether there was or was not a little wilfulness in her continuing +blind to the possibility that another sort of choice was in question +in relation to her. But her life was just now full of hope and action: +she was not only thinking of her plans, but getting down learned +books from the library and reading many things hastily (that she +might be a little less ignorant in talking to Mr. Casaubon), all the +while being visited with conscientious questionings whether she were +not exalting these poor doings above measure and contemplating them +with that self-satisfaction which was the last doom of ignorance and folly. + +CHAPTER IV. + + 1st Gent. Our deeds are fetters that we forge ourselves. + 2d Gent. Ay, truly: but I think it is the world + That brings the iron. + +"Sir James seems determined to do everything you wish," said Celia, +as they were driving home from an inspection of the new building-site. + +"He is a good creature, and more sensible than any one would imagine," +said Dorothea, inconsiderately. + +"You mean that he appears silly." + +"No, no," said Dorothea, recollecting herself, and laying her hand +on her sister's a moment, "but he does not talk equally well on +all subjects." + +"I should think none but disagreeable people do," said Celia, +in her usual purring way. "They must be very dreadful to live with. +Only think! at breakfast, and always." + +Dorothea laughed. "O Kitty, you are a wonderful creature!" +She pinched Celia's chin, being in the mood now to think her +very winning and lovely--fit hereafter to be an eternal cherub, +and if it were not doctrinally wrong to say so, hardly more in need +of salvation than a squirrel. "Of course people need not be always +talking well. Only one tells the quality of their minds when they +try to talk well." + +"You mean that Sir James tries and fails." + +"I was speaking generally. Why do you catechise me about Sir +James? It is not the object of his life to please me." + +"Now, Dodo, can you really believe that?" + +"Certainly. He thinks of me as a future sister--that is all." +Dorothea had never hinted this before, waiting, from a certain +shyness on such subjects which was mutual between the sisters, +until it should be introduced by some decisive event. Celia blushed, +but said at once-- + +"Pray do not make that mistake any longer, Dodo. When Tantripp +was brushing my hair the other day, she said that Sir James's man +knew from Mrs. Cadwallader's maid that Sir James was to marry +the eldest Miss Brooke." + +"How can you let Tantripp talk such gossip to you, Celia?" +said Dorothea, indignantly, not the less angry because details asleep +in her memory were now awakened to confirm the unwelcome revelation. +"You must have asked her questions. It is degrading." + +"I see no harm at all in Tantripp's talking to me. It is better +to hear what people say. You see what mistakes you make by taking +up notions. I am quite sure that Sir James means to make you an offer; +and he believes that you will accept him, especially since you +have been so pleased with him about the plans. And uncle too--I +know he expects it. Every one can see that Sir James is very much +in love with you." + +The revulsion was so strong and painful in Dorothea's mind that the tears +welled up and flowed abundantly. All her dear plans were embittered, +and she thought with disgust of Sir James's conceiving that she +recognized him as her lover. There was vexation too on account of Celia. + +"How could he expect it?" she burst forth in her most impetuous manner. +"I have never agreed with him about anything but the cottages: I +was barely polite to him before." + +"But you have been so pleased with him since then; he has begun +to feel quite sure that you are fond of him." + +"Fond of him, Celia! How can you choose such odious expressions?" +said Dorothea, passionately. + +"Dear me, Dorothea, I suppose it would be right for you to be fond +of a man whom you accepted for a husband." + +"It is offensive to me to say that Sir James could think I was fond +of him. Besides, it is not the right word for the feeling I must +have towards the man I would accept as a husband." + +"Well, I am sorry for Sir James. I thought it right to tell you, +because you went on as you always do, never looking just where you are, +and treading in the wrong place. You always see what nobody else sees; +it is impossible to satisfy you; yet you never see what is quite plain. +That's your way, Dodo." Something certainly gave Celia unusual courage; +and she was not sparing the sister of whom she was occasionally in awe. +Who can tell what just criticisms Murr the Cat may be passing on us +beings of wider speculation? + +"It is very painful," said Dorothea, feeling scourged. "I can have +no more to do with the cottages. I must be uncivil to him. I must +tell him I will have nothing to do with them. It is very painful." +Her eyes filled again with tears. + +"Wait a little. Think about it. You know he is going away for a day +or two to see his sister. There will be nobody besides Lovegood." +Celia could not help relenting. "Poor Dodo," she went on, +in an amiable staccato. "It is very hard: it is your favorite +FAD to draw plans." + +"FAD to draw plans! Do you think I only care about my fellow-creatures' +houses in that childish way? I may well make mistakes. How can one +ever do anything nobly Christian, living among people with such petty +thoughts?" + +No more was said; Dorothea was too much jarred to recover her temper +and behave so as to show that she admitted any error in herself. +She was disposed rather to accuse the intolerable narrowness +and the purblind conscience of the society around her: and Celia +was no longer the eternal cherub, but a thorn in her spirit, +a pink-and-white nullifidian, worse than any discouraging presence +in the "Pilgrim's Progress." The FAD of drawing plans! What was +life worth--what great faith was possible when the whole +effect of one's actions could be withered up into such parched +rubbish as that? When she got out of the carriage, her cheeks +were pale and her eyelids red. She was an image of sorrow, +and her uncle who met her in the hall would have been alarmed, +if Celia had not been close to her looking so pretty and composed, +that he at once concluded Dorothea's tears to have their origin in +her excessive religiousness. He had returned, during their absence, +from a journey to the county town, about a petition for the pardon +of some criminal. + +"Well, my dears," he said, kindly, as they went up to kiss him, +"I hope nothing disagreeable has happened while I have been away." + +"No, uncle," said Celia, "we have been to Freshitt to look at +the cottages. We thought you would have been at home to lunch." + +"I came by Lowick to lunch--you didn't know I came by Lowick. And I +have brought a couple of pamphlets for you, Dorothea--in the library, +you know; they lie on the table in the library." + +It seemed as if an electric stream went through Dorothea, +thrilling her from despair into expectation. They were pamphlets +about the early Church. The oppression of Celia, Tantripp, and Sir +James was shaken off, and she walked straight to the library. +Celia went up-stairs. Mr. Brooke was detained by a message, but when +he re-entered the library, he found Dorothea seated and already +deep in one of the pamphlets which had some marginal manuscript +of Mr. Casaubon's,--taking it in as eagerly as she might have taken +in the scent of a fresh bouquet after a dry, hot, dreary walk. + +She was getting away from Tipton and Freshitt, and her own sad +liability to tread in the wrong places on her way to the New Jerusalem. + +Mr. Brooke sat down in his arm-chair, stretched his legs towards +the wood-fire, which had fallen into a wondrous mass of glowing dice +between the dogs, and rubbed his hands gently, looking very mildly +towards Dorothea, but with a neutral leisurely air, as if he had +nothing particular to say. Dorothea closed her pamphlet, as soon +as she was aware of her uncle's presence, and rose as if to go. +Usually she would have been interested about her uncle's merciful +errand on behalf of the criminal, but her late agitation had made +her absent-minded. + +"I came back by Lowick, you know," said Mr. Brooke, not as if with +any intention to arrest her departure, but apparently from his +usual tendency to say what he had said before. This fundamental +principle of human speech was markedly exhibited in Mr. Brooke. +"I lunched there and saw Casaubon's library, and that kind of thing. +There's a sharp air, driving. Won't you sit down, my dear? +You look cold." + +Dorothea felt quite inclined to accept the invitation. Some times, +when her uncle's easy way of taking things did not happen to +be exasperating, it was rather soothing. She threw off her mantle +and bonnet, and sat down opposite to him, enjoying the glow, +but lifting up her beautiful hands for a screen. They were not +thin hands, or small hands; but powerful, feminine, maternal hands. +She seemed to be holding them up in propitiation for her passionate +desire to know and to think, which in the unfriendly mediums +of Tipton and Freshitt had issued in crying and red eyelids. + +She bethought herself now of the condemned criminal. "What news +have you brought about the sheep-stealer, uncle?" + +"What, poor Bunch?--well, it seems we can't get him off--he +is to be hanged." + +Dorothea's brow took an expression of reprobation and pity. + +"Hanged, you know," said Mr. Brooke, with a quiet nod. "Poor Romilly! he +would have helped us. I knew Romilly. Casaubon didn't know Romilly. +He is a little buried in books, you know, Casaubon is." + +"When a man has great studies and is writing a great work, +he must of course give up seeing much of the world. How can +he go about making acquaintances?" + +"That's true. But a man mopes, you know. I have always been a +bachelor too, but I have that sort of disposition that I never moped; +it was my way to go about everywhere and take in everything. +I never moped: but I can see that Casaubon does, you know. He wants +a companion--a companion, you know." + +"It would be a great honor to any one to be his companion," +said Dorothea, energetically. + +"You like him, eh?" said Mr. Brooke, without showing any surprise, +or other emotion. "Well, now, I've known Casaubon ten years, +ever since he came to Lowick. But I never got anything out of +him--any ideas, you know. However, he is a tiptop man and may +be a bishop--that kind of thing, you know, if Peel stays in. +And he has a very high opinion of you, my dear." + +Dorothea could not speak. + +"The fact is, he has a very high opinion indeed of you. And he +speaks uncommonly well--does Casaubon. He has deferred to me, +you not being of age. In short, I have promised to speak to you, +though I told him I thought there was not much chance. I was bound +to tell him that. I said, my niece is very young, and that kind +of thing. But I didn't think it necessary to go into everything. +However, the long and the short of it is, that he has asked my +permission to make you an offer of marriage--of marriage, you know," +said Mr. Brooke, with his explanatory nod. "I thought it better +to tell you, my dear." + +No one could have detected any anxiety in Mr. Brooke's manner, +but he did really wish to know something of his niece's mind, that, +if there were any need for advice, he might give it in time. +What feeling he, as a magistrate who had taken in so many ideas, +could make room for, was unmixedly kind. Since Dorothea did not +speak immediately, he repeated, "I thought it better to tell you, +my dear." + +"Thank you, uncle," said Dorothea, in a clear unwavering tone. +"I am very grateful to Mr. Casaubon. If he makes me an offer, +I shall accept him. I admire and honor him more than any man I +ever saw." + +Mr. Brooke paused a little, and then said in a lingering low tone, +"Ah? . . . Well! He is a good match in some respects. But now, +Chettam is a good match. And our land lies together. I shall never +interfere against your wishes, my dear. People should have their +own way in marriage, and that sort of thing--up to a certain point, +you know. I have always said that, up to a certain point. I wish +you to marry well; and I have good reason to believe that Chettam +wishes to marry you. I mention it, you know." + +"It is impossible that I should ever marry Sir James Chettam," +said Dorothea. "If he thinks of marrying me, he has made +a great mistake." + +"That is it, you see. One never knows. I should have thought +Chettam was just the sort of man a woman would like, now." + +"Pray do not mention him in that light again, uncle," said Dorothea, +feeling some of her late irritation revive. + +Mr. Brooke wondered, and felt that women were an inexhaustible +subject of study, since even he at his age was not in a perfect +state of scientific prediction about them. Here was a fellow +like Chettam with no chance at all. + +"Well, but Casaubon, now. There is no hurry--I mean for you. +It's true, every year will tell upon him. He is over five-and-forty, +you know. I should say a good seven-and-twenty years older than you. +To be sure,--if you like learning and standing, and that sort +of thing, we can't have everything. And his income is good--he has +a handsome property independent of the Church--his income is good. +Still he is not young, and I must not conceal from you, my dear, +that I think his health is not over-strong. I know nothing else +against him." + +"I should not wish to have a husband very near my own age," +said Dorothea, with grave decision. "I should wish to have a husband +who was above me in judgment and in all knowledge." + +Mr. Brooke repeated his subdued, "Ah?--I thought you had more +of your own opinion than most girls. I thought you liked your +own opinion--liked it, you know." + +"I cannot imagine myself living without some opinions, but I +should wish to have good reasons for them, and a wise man could +help me to see which opinions had the best foundation, and would +help me to live according to them." + +"Very true. You couldn't put the thing better--couldn't put +it better, beforehand, you know. But there are oddities in things," +continued Mr. Brooke, whose conscience was really roused to do +the best he could for his niece on this occasion. "Life isn't cast +in a mould--not cut out by rule and line, and that sort of thing. +I never married myself, and it will be the better for you and yours. +The fact is, I never loved any one well enough to put myself into +a noose for them. It IS a noose, you know. Temper, now. +There is temper. And a husband likes to be master." + +"I know that I must expect trials, uncle. Marriage is a state +of higher duties. I never thought of it as mere personal ease," +said poor Dorothea. + +"Well, you are not fond of show, a great establishment, balls, dinners, +that kind of thing. I can see that Casaubon's ways might suit you +better than Chettam's. And you shall do as you like, my dear. +I would not hinder Casaubon; I said so at once; for there is no +knowing how anything may turn out. You have not the same tastes +as every young lady; and a clergyman and scholar--who may be +a bishop--that kind of thing--may suit you better than Chettam. +Chettam is a good fellow, a good sound-hearted fellow, you know; +but he doesn't go much into ideas. I did, when I was his age. +But Casaubon's eyes, now. I think he has hurt them a little with too +much reading." + +"I should be all the happier, uncle, the more room there was for me +to help him," said Dorothea, ardently. + +"You have quite made up your mind, I see. Well, my dear, the fact is, +I have a letter for you in my pocket." Mr. Brooke handed the letter +to Dorothea, but as she rose to go away, he added, "There is not +too much hurry, my dear. Think about it, you know." + +When Dorothea had left him, he reflected that he had certainly +spoken strongly: he had put the risks of marriage before her in a +striking manner. It was his duty to do so. But as to pretending +to be wise for young people,--no uncle, however much he had travelled +in his youth, absorbed the new ideas, and dined with celebrities +now deceased, could pretend to judge what sort of marriage would +turn out well for a young girl who preferred Casaubon to Chettam. +In short, woman was a problem which, since Mr. Brooke's mind felt +blank before it, could be hardly less complicated than the revolutions +of an irregular solid. + +CHAPTER V. + +"Hard students are commonly troubled with gowts, catarrhs, +rheums, cachexia, bradypepsia, bad eyes, stone, and collick, +crudities, oppilations, vertigo, winds, consumptions, and all such +diseases as come by over-much sitting: they are most part lean, +dry, ill-colored . . . and all through immoderate pains and +extraordinary studies. If you will not believe the truth of this, +look upon great Tostatus and Thomas Aquainas' works; and tell me whether +those men took pains."--BURTON'S Anatomy of Melancholy, P. I, s. 2. + +This was Mr. Casaubon's letter. + +MY DEAR MISS BROOKE,--I have your guardian's permission to address +you on a subject than which I have none more at heart. I am not, +I trust, mistaken in the recognition of some deeper correspondence +than that of date in the fact that a consciousness of need in my +own life had arisen contemporaneously with the possibility of my +becoming acquainted with you. For in the first hour of meeting you, +I had an impression of your eminent and perhaps exclusive fitness +to supply that need (connected, I may say, with such activity of the +affections as even the preoccupations of a work too special to be +abdicated could not uninterruptedly dissimulate); and each succeeding +opportunity for observation has given the impression an added +depth by convincing me more emphatically of that fitness which I +had preconceived, and thus evoking more decisively those affections +to which I have but now referred. Our conversations have, I think, +made sufficiently clear to you the tenor of my life and purposes: +a tenor unsuited, I am aware, to the commoner order of minds. +But I have discerned in you an elevation of thought and a capability +of devotedness, which I had hitherto not conceived to be compatible +either with the early bloom of youth or with those graces of sex that +may be said at once to win and to confer distinction when combined, +as they notably are in you, with the mental qualities above indicated. +It was, I confess, beyond my hope to meet with this rare combination +of elements both solid and attractive, adapted to supply aid +in graver labors and to cast a charm over vacant hours; and but +for the event of my introduction to you (which, let me again say, +I trust not to be superficially coincident with foreshadowing needs, +but providentially related thereto as stages towards the completion +of a life's plan), I should presumably have gone on to the last +without any attempt to lighten my solitariness by a matrimonial union. + +Such, my dear Miss Brooke, is the accurate statement of my feelings; +and I rely on your kind indulgence in venturing now to ask you +how far your own are of a nature to confirm my happy presentiment. +To be accepted by you as your husband and the earthly guardian of +your welfare, I should regard as the highest of providential gifts. +In return I can at least offer you an affection hitherto unwasted, +and the faithful consecration of a life which, however short +in the sequel, has no backward pages whereon, if you choose +to turn them, you will find records such as might justly cause +you either bitterness or shame. I await the expression of your +sentiments with an anxiety which it would be the part of wisdom +(were it possible) to divert by a more arduous labor than usual. +But in this order of experience I am still young, and in looking forward +to an unfavorable possibility I cannot but feel that resignation +to solitude will be more difficult after the temporary illumination +of hope. + In any case, I shall remain, + Yours with sincere devotion, + EDWARD CASAUBON. + +Dorothea trembled while she read this letter; then she fell on her knees, +buried her face, and sobbed. She could not pray: under the rush of solemn +emotion in which thoughts became vague and images floated uncertainly, +she could but cast herself, with a childlike sense of reclining, +in the lap of a divine consciousness which sustained her own. +She remained in that attitude till it was time to dress for dinner. + +How could it occur to her to examine the letter, to look at it +critically as a profession of love? Her whole soul was possessed +by the fact that a fuller life was opening before her: she +was a neophyte about to enter on a higher grade of initiation. +She was going to have room for the energies which stirred uneasily +under the dimness and pressure of her own ignorance and the petty +peremptoriness of the world's habits. + +Now she would be able to devote herself to large yet definite duties; +now she would be allowed to live continually in the light of a mind +that she could reverence. This hope was not unmixed with the glow +of proud delight--the joyous maiden surprise that she was chosen +by the man whom her admiration had chosen. All Dorothea's passion +was transfused through a mind struggling towards an ideal life; +the radiance of her transfigured girlhood fell on the first object +that came within its level. The impetus with which inclination +became resolution was heightened by those little events of the day +which had roused her discontent with the actual conditions of +her life. + +After dinner, when Celia was playing an "air, with variations," +a small kind of tinkling which symbolized the aesthetic part of the +young ladies' education, Dorothea went up to her room to answer +Mr. Casaubon's letter. Why should she defer the answer? She wrote +it over three times, not because she wished to change the wording, +but because her hand was unusually uncertain, and she could not bear +that Mr. Casaubon should think her handwriting bad and illegible. +She piqued herself on writing a hand in which each letter was +distinguishable without any large range of conjecture, and she meant +to make much use of this accomplishment, to save Mr. Casaubon's eyes. +Three times she wrote. + +MY DEAR MR. CASAUBON,--I am very grateful to you for loving me, +and thinking me worthy to be your wife. I can look forward to no better +happiness than that which would be one with yours. If I said more, +it would only be the same thing written out at greater length, +for I cannot now dwell on any other thought than that I may be +through life + Yours devotedly, + DOROTHEA BROOKE. + +Later in the evening she followed her uncle into the library +to give him the letter, that he might send it in the morning. +He was surprised, but his surprise only issued in a few moments' +silence, during which he pushed about various objects on his +writing-table, and finally stood with his back to the fire, +his glasses on his nose, looking at the address of Dorothea's letter. + +"Have you thought enough about this, my dear?" he said at last. + +"There was no need to think long, uncle. I know of nothing to make +me vacillate. If I changed my mind, it must be because of something +important and entirely new to me." + +"Ah!--then you have accepted him? Then Chettam has no chance? +Has Chettam offended you--offended you, you know? What is it you +don't like in Chettam?" + +"There is nothing that I like in him," said Dorothea, rather impetuously. + +Mr. Brooke threw his head and shoulders backward as if some one +had thrown a light missile at him. Dorothea immediately felt +some self-rebuke, and said-- + +"I mean in the light of a husband. He is very kind, I think--really +very good about the cottages. A well-meaning man." + +"But you must have a scholar, and that sort of thing? Well, it lies +a little in our family. I had it myself--that love of knowledge, +and going into everything--a little too much--it took me too far; +though that sort of thing doesn't often run in the female-line; +or it runs underground like the rivers in Greece, you know--it +comes out in the sons. Clever sons, clever mothers. I went +a good deal into that, at one time. However, my dear, I have +always said that people should do as they like in these things, +up to a certain point. I couldn't, as your guardian, have consented +to a bad match. But Casaubon stands well: his position is good. +I am afraid Chettam will be hurt, though, and Mrs. Cadwallader will +blame me." + +That evening, of course, Celia knew nothing of what had happened. +She attributed Dorothea's abstracted manner, and the evidence of +further crying since they had got home, to the temper she had been +in about Sir James Chettam and the buildings, and was careful not +to give further offence: having once said what she wanted to say, +Celia had no disposition to recur to disagreeable subjects. +It had been her nature when a child never to quarrel with any one-- +only to observe with wonder that they quarrelled with her, and looked +like turkey-cocks; whereupon she was ready to play at cat's cradle +with them whenever they recovered themselves. And as to Dorothea, +it had always been her way to find something wrong in her sister's +words, though Celia inwardly protested that she always said just +how things were, and nothing else: she never did and never could +put words together out of her own head. But the best of Dodo was, +that she did not keep angry for long together. Now, though they +had hardly spoken to each other all the evening, yet when Celia put +by her work, intending to go to bed, a proceeding in which she was +always much the earlier, Dorothea, who was seated on a low stool, +unable to occupy herself except in meditation, said, with the musical +intonation which in moments of deep but quiet feeling made her speech +like a fine bit of recitative-- + +"Celia, dear, come and kiss me," holding her arms open as she spoke. + +Celia knelt down to get the right level and gave her little +butterfly kiss, while Dorothea encircled her with gentle arms +and pressed her lips gravely on each cheek in turn. + +"Don't sit up, Dodo, you are so pale to-night: go to bed soon," +said Celia, in a comfortable way, without any touch of pathos. + +"No, dear, I am very, very happy," said Dorothea, fervently. + +"So much the better," thought Celia. "But how strangely Dodo goes +from one extreme to the other." + +The next day, at luncheon, the butler, handing something to +Mr. Brooke, said, "Jonas is come back, sir, and has brought this letter." + +Mr. Brooke read the letter, and then, nodding toward Dorothea, +said, "Casaubon, my dear: he will be here to dinner; he didn't +wait to write more--didn't wait, you know." + +It could not seem remarkable to Celia that a dinner guest should +be announced to her sister beforehand, but, her eyes following +the same direction as her uncle's, she was struck with the peculiar +effect of the announcement on Dorothea. It seemed as if something +like the reflection of a white sunlit wing had passed across +her features, ending in one of her rare blushes. For the first time +it entered into Celia's mind that there might be something more +between Mr. Casaubon and her sister than his delight in bookish +talk and her delight in listening. Hitherto she had classed +the admiration for this "ugly" and learned acquaintance with the +admiration for Monsieur Liret at Lausanne, also ugly and learned. +Dorothea had never been tired of listening to old Monsieur Liret +when Celia's feet were as cold as possible, and when it had really +become dreadful to see the skin of his bald head moving about. +Why then should her enthusiasm not extend to Mr. Casaubon simply +in the same way as to Monsieur Liret? And it seemed probable +that all learned men had a sort of schoolmaster's view of young people. + +But now Celia was really startled at the suspicion which had darted +into her mind. She was seldom taken by surprise in this way, +her marvellous quickness in observing a certain order of signs generally +preparing her to expect such outward events as she had an interest in. +Not that she now imagined Mr. Casaubon to be already an accepted +lover: she had only begun to feel disgust at the possibility that +anything in Dorothea's mind could tend towards such an issue. +Here was something really to vex her about Dodo: it was all very +well not to accept Sir James Chettam, but the idea of marrying +Mr. Casaubon! Celia felt a sort of shame mingled with a sense +of the ludicrous. But perhaps Dodo, if she were really bordering +on such an extravagance, might be turned away from it: experience +had often shown that her impressibility might be calculated on. +The day was damp, and they were not going to walk out, so they both +went up to their sitting-room; and there Celia observed that Dorothea, +instead of settling down with her usual diligent interest to +some occupation, simply leaned her elbow on an open book and looked +out of the window at the great cedar silvered with the damp. +She herself had taken up the making of a toy for the curate's children, +and was not going to enter on any subject too precipitately. + +Dorothea was in fact thinking that it was desirable for Celia to know +of the momentous change in Mr. Casaubon's position since he had last +been in the house: it did not seem fair to leave her in ignorance +of what would necessarily affect her attitude towards him; but it was +impossible not to shrink from telling her. Dorothea accused herself +of some meanness in this timidity: it was always odious to her to +have any small fears or contrivances about her actions, but at this +moment she was seeking the highest aid possible that she might not +dread the corrosiveness of Celia's pretty carnally minded prose. +Her reverie was broken, and the difficulty of decision banished, +by Celia's small and rather guttural voice speaking in its usual tone, +of a remark aside or a "by the bye." + +"Is any one else coming to dine besides Mr. Casaubon?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"I hope there is some one else. Then I shall not hear him eat +his soup so." + +"What is there remarkable about his soup-eating?" + +"Really, Dodo, can't you hear how he scrapes his spoon? And he +always blinks before he speaks. I don't know whether Locke blinked, +but I'm sure I am sorry for those who sat opposite to him if he did." + +"Celia," said Dorothea, with emphatic gravity, "pray don't make +any more observations of that kind." + +"Why not? They are quite true," returned Celia, who had her reasons +for persevering, though she was beginning to be a little afraid. + +"Many things are true which only the commonest minds observe." + +"Then I think the commonest minds must be rather useful. +I think it is a pity Mr. Casaubon's mother had not a commoner mind: +she might have taught him better." Celia was inwardly frightened, +and ready to run away, now she had hurled this light javelin. + +Dorothea's feelings had gathered to an avalanche, and there could +be no further preparation. + +"It is right to tell you, Celia, that I am engaged to marry +Mr. Casaubon." + +Perhaps Celia had never turned so pale before. The paper man she +was making would have had his leg injured, but for her habitual +care of whatever she held in her hands. She laid the fragile +figure down at once, and sat perfectly still for a few moments. +When she spoke there was a tear gathering + +"Oh, Dodo, I hope you will be happy." Her sisterly tenderness could +not but surmount other feelings at this moment, and her fears +were the fears of affection. + +Dorothea was still hurt and agitated. + +"It is quite decided, then?" said Celia, in an awed under tone. +"And uncle knows?" + +"I have accepted Mr. Casaubon's offer. My uncle brought me +the letter that contained it; he knew about it beforehand." + +"I beg your pardon, if I have said anything to hurt you, Dodo," +said Celia, with a slight sob. She never could have thought +that she should feel as she did. There was something funereal +in the whole affair, and Mr. Casaubon seemed to be the officiating +clergyman, about whom it would be indecent to make remarks. + +"Never mind, Kitty, do not grieve. We should never admire +the same people. I often offend in something of the same way; +I am apt to speak too strongly of those who don't please me." + +In spite of this magnanimity Dorothea was still smarting: perhaps as +much from Celia's subdued astonishment as from her small criticisms. +Of course all the world round Tipton would be out of sympathy +with this marriage. Dorothea knew of no one who thought as she +did about life and its best objects. + +Nevertheless before the evening was at an end she was very happy. +In an hour's tete-a-tete with Mr. Casaubon she talked to him +with more freedom than she had ever felt before, even pouring +out her joy at the thought of devoting herself to him, and of +learning how she might best share and further all his great ends. +Mr. Casaubon was touched with an unknown delight (what man would +not have been?) at this childlike unrestrained ardor: he was not +surprised (what lover would have been?) that he should be the object +of it. + +"My dear young lady--Miss Brooke--Dorothea!" he said, pressing her +hand between his hands, "this is a happiness greater than I had ever +imagined to be in reserve for me. That I should ever meet with a +mind and person so rich in the mingled graces which could render +marriage desirable, was far indeed from my conception. You have +all--nay, more than all--those qualities which I have ever regarded +as the characteristic excellences of womanhood. The great charm +of your sex is its capability of an ardent self-sacrificing affection, +and herein we see its fitness to round and complete the existence +of our own. Hitherto I have known few pleasures save of the severer +kind: my satisfactions have been those of the solitary student. +I have been little disposed to gather flowers that would wither +in my hand, but now I shall pluck them with eagerness, to place +them in your bosom." + +No speech could have been more thoroughly honest in its intention: +the frigid rhetoric at the end was as sincere as the bark of a dog, +or the cawing of an amorous rook. Would it not be rash to conclude +that there was no passion behind those sonnets to Delia which strike +us as the thin music of a mandolin? + +Dorothea's faith supplied all that Mr. Casaubon's words seemed +to leave unsaid: what believer sees a disturbing omission or +infelicity? The text, whether of prophet or of poet, expands for +whatever we can put into it, and even his bad grammar is sublime. + +"I am very ignorant--you will quite wonder at my ignorance," +said Dorothea. "I have so many thoughts that may be quite mistaken; +and now I shall be able to tell them all to you, and ask you about them. +But," she added, with rapid imagination of Mr. Casaubon's probable feeling, +"I will not trouble you too much; only when you are inclined to +listen to me. You must often be weary with the pursuit of subjects +in your own track. I shall gain enough if you will take me with you there." + +"How should I be able now to persevere in any path without +your companionship?" said Mr. Casaubon, kissing her candid brow, +and feeling that heaven had vouchsafed him a blessing in every way +suited to his peculiar wants. He was being unconsciously wrought +upon by the charms of a nature which was entirely without hidden +calculations either for immediate effects or for remoter ends. +It was this which made Dorothea so childlike, and, according to some +judges, so stupid, with all her reputed cleverness; as, for example, +in the present case of throwing herself, metaphorically speaking, +at Mr. Casaubon's feet, and kissing his unfashionable shoe-ties +as if he were a Protestant Pope. She was not in the least teaching +Mr. Casaubon to ask if he were good enough for her, but merely asking +herself anxiously how she could be good enough for Mr. Casaubon. +Before he left the next day it had been decided that the marriage +should take place within six weeks. Why not? Mr. Casaubon's house +was ready. It was not a parsonage, but a considerable mansion, +with much land attached to it. The parsonage was inhabited by +the curate, who did all the duty except preaching the morning sermon. + +CHAPTER VI. + + My lady's tongue is like the meadow blades, + That cut you stroking them with idle hand. + Nice cutting is her function: she divides + With spiritual edge the millet-seed, + And makes intangible savings. + +As Mr. Casaubon's carriage was passing out of the gateway, +it arrested the entrance of a pony phaeton driven by a lady with +a servant seated behind. It was doubtful whether the recognition +had been mutual, for Mr. Casaubon was looking absently before him; +but the lady was quick-eyed, and threw a nod and a "How do you do?" +in the nick of time. In spite of her shabby bonnet and very old +Indian shawl, it was plain that the lodge-keeper regarded her +as an important personage, from the low curtsy which was dropped +on the entrance of the small phaeton. + +"Well, Mrs. Fitchett, how are your fowls laying now?" said the +high-colored, dark-eyed lady, with the clearest chiselled utterance. + +"Pretty well for laying, madam, but they've ta'en to eating their +eggs: I've no peace o' mind with 'em at all." + +"Oh, the cannibals! Better sell them cheap at once. What will +you sell them a couple? One can't eat fowls of a bad character +at a high price." + +"Well, madam, half-a-crown: I couldn't let 'em go, not under." + +"Half-a-crown, these times! Come now--for the Rector's chicken-broth +on a Sunday. He has consumed all ours that I can spare. +You are half paid with the sermon, Mrs. Fitchett, remember that. +Take a pair of tumbler-pigeons for them--little beauties. You must +come and see them. You have no tumblers among your pigeons." + +"Well, madam, Master Fitchett shall go and see 'em after work. +He's very hot on new sorts; to oblige you." + +"Oblige me! It will be the best bargain he ever made. A pair +of church pigeons for a couple of wicked Spanish fowls that eat +their own eggs! Don't you and Fitchett boast too much, that is all!" + +The phaeton was driven onwards with the last words, leaving Mrs. +Fitchett laughing and shaking her head slowly, with an interjectional +"SureLY, sureLY!"--from which it might be inferred that she would +have found the country-side somewhat duller if the Rector's lady +had been less free-spoken and less of a skinflint. Indeed, both the +farmers and laborers in the parishes of Freshitt and Tipton +would have felt a sad lack of conversation but for the stories +about what Mrs. Cadwallader said and did: a lady of immeasurably +high birth, descended, as it were, from unknown earls, dim as the +crowd of heroic shades--who pleaded poverty, pared down prices, +and cut jokes in the most companionable manner, though with a turn +of tongue that let you know who she was. Such a lady gave a +neighborliness to both rank and religion, and mitigated the bitterness +of uncommuted tithe. A much more exemplary character with an infusion +of sour dignity would not have furthered their comprehension +of the Thirty-nine Articles, and would have been less socially uniting. + +Mr. Brooke, seeing Mrs. Cadwallader's merits from a different point +of view, winced a little when her name was announced in the library, +where he was sitting alone. + +"I see you have had our Lowick Cicero here," she said, seating +herself comfortably, throwing back her wraps, and showing a thin +but well-built figure. "I suspect you and he are brewing some +bad polities, else you would not be seeing so much of the lively man. +I shall inform against you: remember you are both suspicious characters +since you took Peel's side about the Catholic Bill. I shall tell +everybody that you are going to put up for Middlemarch on the Whig +side when old Pinkerton resigns, and that Casaubon is going to help +you in an underhand manner: going to bribe the voters with pamphlets, +and throw open the public-houses to distribute them. Come, confess!" + +"Nothing of the sort," said Mr. Brooke, smiling and rubbing his +eye-glasses, but really blushing a little at the impeachment. +"Casaubon and I don't talk politics much. He doesn't care much about +the philanthropic side of things; punishments, and that kind of thing. +He only cares about Church questions. That is not my line of action, +you know." + +"Ra-a-ther too much, my friend. I have heard of your doings. +Who was it that sold his bit of land to the Papists at Middlemarch? +I believe you bought it on purpose. You are a perfect Guy Faux. +See if you are not burnt in effigy this 5th of November coming. +Humphrey would not come to quarrel with you about it, so I +am come." + +"Very good. I was prepared to be persecuted for not persecuting--not +persecuting, you know." + +"There you go! That is a piece of clap-trap you have got ready for +the hustings. Now, DO NOT let them lure you to the hustings, +my dear Mr. Brooke. A man always makes a fool of himself, +speechifying: there's no excuse but being on the right side, +so that you can ask a blessing on your humming and hawing. +You will lose yourself, I forewarn you. You will make a Saturday +pie of all parties' opinions, and be pelted by everybody." + +"That is what I expect, you know," said Mr. Brooke, not wishing +to betray how little he enjoyed this prophetic sketch--"what I +expect as an independent man. As to the Whigs, a man who goes +with the thinkers is not likely to be hooked on by any party. +He may go with them up to a certain point--up to a certain point, +you know. But that is what you ladies never understand." + +"Where your certain point is? No. I should like to be told how a man +can have any certain point when he belongs to no party--leading +a roving life, and never letting his friends know his address. +`Nobody knows where Brooke will be--there's no counting on Brooke'--that +is what people say of you, to be quite frank. Now, do turn respectable. +How will you like going to Sessions with everybody looking shy +on you, and you with a bad conscience and an empty pocket?" + +"I don't pretend to argue with a lady on politics," said Mr. Brooke, +with an air of smiling indifference, but feeling rather unpleasantly +conscious that this attack of Mrs. Cadwallader's had opened the +defensive campaign to which certain rash steps had exposed him. +"Your sex are not thinkers, you know--varium et mutabile +semper--that kind of thing. You don't know Virgil. I knew"--Mr. +Brooke reflected in time that he had not had the personal acquaintance +of the Augustan poet--"I was going to say, poor Stoddart, you know. +That was what HE said. You ladies are always against an +independent attitude--a man's caring for nothing but truth, +and that sort of thing. And there is no part of the county where +opinion is narrower than it is here--I don't mean to throw stones, +you know, but somebody is wanted to take the independent line; +and if I don't take it, who will?" + +"Who? Why, any upstart who has got neither blood nor position. +People of standing should consume their independent nonsense at home, +not hawk it about. And you! who are going to marry your niece, +as good as your daughter, to one of our best men. Sir James would +be cruelly annoyed: it will be too hard on him if you turn round now +and make yourself a Whig sign-board." + +Mr. Brooke again winced inwardly, for Dorothea's engagement had +no sooner been decided, than he had thought of Mrs. Cadwallader's +prospective taunts. It might have been easy for ignorant observers +to say, "Quarrel with Mrs. Cadwallader;" but where is a country +gentleman to go who quarrels with his oldest neighbors? Who could taste +the fine flavor in the name of Brooke if it were delivered casually, +like wine without a seal? Certainly a man can only be cosmopolitan +up to a certain point. + +"I hope Chettam and I shall always be good friends; but I am sorry +to say there is no prospect of his marrying my niece," said Mr. Brooke, +much relieved to see through the window that Celia was coming in. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Cadwallader, with a sharp note of surprise. +"It is hardly a fortnight since you and I were talking about it." + +"My niece has chosen another suitor--has chosen him, you know. +I have had nothing to do with it. I should have preferred Chettam; +and I should have said Chettam was the man any girl would have chosen. +But there is no accounting for these things. Your sex is capricious, +you know." + +"Why, whom do you mean to say that you are going to let her marry?" +Mrs. Cadwallader's mind was rapidly surveying the possibilities +of choice for Dorothea. + +But here Celia entered, blooming from a walk in the garden, +and the greeting with her delivered Mr. Brooke from the necessity +of answering immediately. He got up hastily, and saying, "By the way, +I must speak to Wright about the horses," shuffled quickly out +of the room. + +"My dear child, what is this?--this about your sister's engagement?" +said Mrs. Cadwallader. + +"She is engaged to marry Mr. Casaubon," said Celia, resorting, as usual, +to the simplest statement of fact, and enjoying this opportunity +of speaking to the Rector's wife alone. + +"This is frightful. How long has it been going on?" + +"I only knew of it yesterday. They are to be married in six weeks." + +"Well, my dear, I wish you joy of your brother-in-law." + +"I am so sorry for Dorothea." + +"Sorry! It is her doing, I suppose." + +"Yes; she says Mr. Casaubon has a great soul." + +"With all my heart." + +"Oh, Mrs. Cadwallader, I don't think it can be nice to marry a man +with a great soul." + +"Well, my dear, take warning. You know the look of one now; +when the next comes and wants to marry you, don't you accept him." + +"I'm sure I never should." + +"No; one such in a family is enough. So your sister never cared +about Sir James Chettam? What would you have said to HIM +for a brother-in-law?" + +"I should have liked that very much. I am sure he would have +been a good husband. Only," Celia added, with a slight blush +(she sometimes seemed to blush as she breathed), "I don't think +he would have suited Dorothea." + +"Not high-flown enough?" + +"Dodo is very strict. She thinks so much about everything, +and is so particular about what one says. Sir James never seemed +to please her." + +"She must have encouraged him, I am sure. That is not very creditable." + +"Please don't be angry with Dodo; she does not see things. +She thought so much about the cottages, and she was rude to Sir +James sometimes; but he is so kind, he never noticed it." + +"Well," said Mrs. Cadwallader, putting on her shawl, and rising, +as if in haste, "I must go straight to Sir James and break this to him. +He will have brought his mother back by this time, and I must call. +Your uncle will never tell him. We are all disappointed, my dear. +Young people should think of their families in marrying. I set a bad +example--married a poor clergyman, and made myself a pitiable object +among the De Bracys--obliged to get my coals by stratagem, and pray +to heaven for my salad oil. However, Casaubon has money enough; +I must do him that justice. As to his blood, I suppose the family +quarterings are three cuttle-fish sable, and a commentator rampant. +By the bye, before I go, my dear, I must speak to your Mrs. Carter +about pastry. I want to send my young cook to learn of her. +Poor people with four children, like us, you know, can't afford to keep +a good cook. I have no doubt Mrs. Carter will oblige me. Sir James's +cook is a perfect dragon." + +In less than an hour, Mrs. Cadwallader had circumvented Mrs. Carter +and driven to Freshitt Hall, which was not far from her own parsonage, +her husband being resident in Freshitt and keeping a curate in Tipton. + +Sir James Chettam had returned from the short journey which had +kept him absent for a couple of days, and had changed his dress, +intending to ride over to Tipton Grange. His horse was standing at +the door when Mrs. Cadwallader drove up, and he immediately appeared +there himself, whip in hand. Lady Chettam had not yet returned, +but Mrs. Cadwallader's errand could not be despatched in the presence +of grooms, so she asked to be taken into the conservatory close by, +to look at the new plants; and on coming to a contemplative stand, +she said-- + +"I have a great shock for you; I hope you are not so far gone +in love as you pretended to be." + +It was of no use protesting, against Mrs. Cadwallader's way of +putting things. But Sir James's countenance changed a little. +He felt a vague alarm. + +"I do believe Brooke is going to expose himself after all. I accused +him of meaning to stand for Middlemarch on the Liberal side, and he +looked silly and never denied it--talked about the independent line, +and the usual nonsense." + +"Is that all?" said Sir James, much relieved. + +"Why," rejoined Mrs. Cadwallader, with a sharper note, "you don't +mean to say that you would like him to turn public man in that +way--making a sort of political Cheap Jack of himself?" + +"He might be dissuaded, I should think. He would not like the expense." + +"That is what I told him. He is vulnerable to reason there--always +a few grains of common-sense in an ounce of miserliness. +Miserliness is a capital quality to run in families; it's the safe +side for madness to dip on. And there must be a little crack +in the Brooke family, else we should not see what we are to see." + +"What? Brooke standing for Middlemarch?" + +"Worse than that. I really feel a little responsible. I always told +you Miss Brooke would be such a fine match. I knew there was a great +deal of nonsense in her--a flighty sort of Methodistical stuff. +But these things wear out of girls. However, I am taken by surprise +for once." + +"What do you mean, Mrs. Cadwallader?" said Sir James. His fear lest +Miss Brooke should have run away to join the Moravian Brethren, +or some preposterous sect unknown to good society, was a little +allayed by the knowledge that Mrs. Cadwallader always made the worst +of things. "What has happened to Miss Brooke? Pray speak out." + +"Very well. She is engaged to be married." Mrs. Cadwallader +paused a few moments, observing the deeply hurt expression in her +friend's face, which he was trying to conceal by a nervous smile, +while he whipped his boot; but she soon added, "Engaged to Casaubon." + +Sir James let his whip fall and stooped to pick it up. +Perhaps his face had never before gathered so much concentrated +disgust as when he turned to Mrs. Cadwallader and repeated, "Casaubon?" + +"Even so. You know my errand now." + +"Good God! It is horrible! He is no better than a mummy!" +(The point of view has to be allowed for, as that of a blooming +and disappointed rival.) + +"She says, he is a great soul.--A great bladder for dried peas +to rattle in!" said Mrs. Cadwallader. + +"What business has an old bachelor like that to marry?" said Sir James. +"He has one foot in the grave." + +"He means to draw it out again, I suppose." + +"Brooke ought not to allow it: he should insist on its being put +off till she is of age. She would think better of it then. +What is a guardian for?" + +"As if you could ever squeeze a resolution out of Brooke!" + +"Cadwallader might talk to him." + +"Not he! Humphrey finds everybody charming I never can get him +to abuse Casaubon. He will even speak well of the bishop, though I +tell him it is unnatural in a beneficed clergyman; what can one do +with a husband who attends so little to the decencies? I hide it +as well as I can by abusing everybody myself. Come, come, cheer up! +you are well rid of Miss Brooke, a girl who would have been requiring +you to see the stars by daylight. Between ourselves, little Celia +is worth two of her, and likely after all to be the better match. +For this marriage to Casaubon is as good as going to a nunnery." + +"Oh, on my own account--it is for Miss Brooke's sake I think her +friends should try to use their influence." + +"Well, Humphrey doesn't know yet. But when I tell him, you may +depend on it he will say, `Why not? Casaubon is a good fellow--and +young--young enough.' These charitable people never know vinegar from +wine till they have swallowed it and got the colic. However, if I +were a man I should prefer Celia, especially when Dorothea was gone. +The truth is, you have been courting one and have won the other. +I can see that she admires you almost as much as a man expects to +be admired. If it were any one but me who said so, you might think +it exaggeration. Good-by!" + +Sir James handed Mrs. Cadwallader to the phaeton, +and then jumped on his horse. He was not going to renounce +his ride because of his friend's unpleasant news--only +to ride the faster in some other direction than that of Tipton Grange. + +Now, why on earth should Mrs. Cadwallader have been at all busy +about Miss Brooke's marriage; and why, when one match that she +liked to think she had a hand in was frustrated, should she have +straightway contrived the preliminaries of another? Was there +any ingenious plot, any hide-and-seek course of action, which +might be detected by a careful telescopic watch? Not at all: +a telescope might have swept the parishes of Tipton and Freshitt, +the whole area visited by Mrs. Cadwallader in her phaeton, +without witnessing any interview that could excite suspicion, +or any scene from which she did not return with the same unperturbed +keenness of eye and the same high natural color. In fact, if that +convenient vehicle had existed in the days of the Seven Sages, +one of them would doubtless have remarked, that you can know little +of women by following them about in their pony-phaetons. Even +with a microscope directed on a water-drop we find ourselves making +interpretations which turn out to be rather coarse; for whereas +under a weak lens you may seem to see a creature exhibiting an active +voracity into which other smaller creatures actively play as if they +were so many animated tax-pennies, a stronger lens reveals to you +certain tiniest hairlets which make vortices for these victims +while the swallower waits passively at his receipt of custom. +In this way, metaphorically speaking, a strong lens applied to +Mrs. Cadwallader's match-making will show a play of minute causes +producing what may be called thought and speech vortices to bring +her the sort of food she needed. Her life was rurally simple, +quite free from secrets either foul, dangerous, or otherwise important, +and not consciously affected by the great affairs of the world. +All the more did the affairs of the great world interest her, +when communicated in the letters of high-born relations: the way +in which fascinating younger sons had gone to the dogs by marrying +their mistresses; the fine old-blooded idiocy of young Lord Tapir, +and the furious gouty humors of old Lord Megatherium; the exact +crossing of genealogies which had brought a coronet into a new branch +and widened the relations of scandal,--these were topics of which she +retained details with the utmost accuracy, and reproduced them in +an excellent pickle of epigrams, which she herself enjoyed the more +because she believed as unquestionably in birth and no-birth as she +did in game and vermin. She would never have disowned any one on the +ground of poverty: a De Bracy reduced to take his dinner in a basin +would have seemed to her an example of pathos worth exaggerating, +and I fear his aristocratic vices would not have horrified her. +But her feeling towards the vulgar rich was a sort of religious hatred: +they had probably made all their money out of high retail prices, +and Mrs. Cadwallader detested high prices for everything that was not +paid in kind at the Rectory: such people were no part of God's design +in making the world; and their accent was an affliction to the ears. +A town where such monsters abounded was hardly more than a sort +of low comedy, which could not be taken account of in a well-bred +scheme of the universe. Let any lady who is inclined to be hard +on Mrs. Cadwallader inquire into the comprehensiveness of her own +beautiful views, and be quite sure that they afford accommodation +for all the lives which have the honor to coexist with hers. + +With such a mind, active as phosphorus, biting everything that came +near into the form that suited it, how could Mrs. Cadwallader feel +that the Miss Brookes and their matrimonial prospects were alien +to her? especially as it had been the habit of years for her to +scold Mr. Brooke with the friendliest frankness, and let him know +in confidence that she thought him a poor creature. From the first +arrival of the young ladies in Tipton she had prearranged Dorothea's +marriage with Sir James, and if it had taken place would have been +quite sure that it was her doing: that it should not take place +after she had preconceived it, caused her an irritation which every +thinker will sympathize with. She was the diplomatist of Tipton +and Freshitt, and for anything to happen in spite of her was an +offensive irregularity. As to freaks like this of Miss Brooke's, +Mrs. Cadwallader had no patience with them, and now saw that her +opinion of this girl had been infected with some of her husband's +weak charitableness: those Methodistical whims, that air of being +more religious than the rector and curate together, came from +a deeper and more constitutional disease than she had been willing to believe. + +"However," said Mrs. Cadwallader, first to herself and afterwards +to her husband, "I throw her over: there was a chance, if she had +married Sir James, of her becoming a sane, sensible woman. He would +never have contradicted her, and when a woman is not contradicted, +she has no motive for obstinacy in her absurdities. But now I wish +her joy of her hair shirt." + +It followed that Mrs. Cadwallader must decide on another match for +Sir James, and having made up her mind that it was to be the younger +Miss Brooke, there could not have been a more skilful move towards +the success of her plan than her hint to the baronet that he had made +an impression on Celia's heart. For he was not one of those gentlemen +who languish after the unattainable Sappho's apple that laughs +from the topmost bough--the charms which + + "Smile like the knot of cowslips on the cliff, + Not to be come at by the willing hand." + +He had no sonnets to write, and it could not strike him agreeably +that he was not an object of preference to the woman whom he +had preferred. Already the knowledge that Dorothea had chosen +Mr. Casaubon had bruised his attachment and relaxed its hold. +Although Sir James was a sportsman, he had some other feelings +towards women than towards grouse and foxes, and did not regard +his future wife in the light of prey, valuable chiefly for the +excitements of the chase. Neither was he so well acquainted +with the habits of primitive races as to feel that an ideal +combat for her, tomahawk in hand, so to speak, was necessary +to the historical continuity of the marriage-tie. On the contrary, +having the amiable vanity which knits us to those who are fond of us, +and disinclines us to those who are indifferent, and also a good +grateful nature, the mere idea that a woman had a kindness towards +him spun little threads of tenderness from out his heart towards hers. + +Thus it happened, that after Sir James had ridden rather fast for +half an hour in a direction away from Tipton Grange, he slackened +his pace, and at last turned into a road which would lead him back +by a shorter cut. Various feelings wrought in him the determination +after all to go to the Grange to-day as if nothing new had happened. +He could not help rejoicing that he had never made the offer +and been rejected; mere friendly politeness required that he +should call to see Dorothea about the cottages, and now happily +Mrs. Cadwallader had prepared him to offer his congratulations, +if necessary, without showing too much awkwardness. He really +did not like it: giving up Dorothea was very painful to him; +but there was something in the resolve to make this visit forthwith +and conquer all show of feeling, which was a sort of file-biting and +counter-irritant. And without his distinctly recognizing the impulse, +there certainly was present in him the sense that Celia would be there, +and that he should pay her more attention than he had done before. + +We mortals, men and women, devour many a disappointment between +breakfast and dinner-time; keep back the tears and look a little +pale about the lips, and in answer to inquiries say, "Oh, nothing!" +Pride helps us; and pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us +to hide our own hurts--not to hurt others. + +CHAPTER VII. + + "Piacer e popone + Vuol la sua stagione." + --Italian Proverb. + +Mr. Casaubon, as might be expected, spent a great deal of his time +at the Grange in these weeks, and the hindrance which courtship +occasioned to the progress of his great work--the Key to all +Mythologies--naturally made him look forward the more eagerly +to the happy termination of courtship. But he had deliberately +incurred the hindrance, having made up his mind that it was now time +for him to adorn his life with the graces of female companionship, +to irradiate the gloom which fatigue was apt to hang over the intervals +of studious labor with the play of female fancy, and to secure in this, +his culminating age, the solace of female tendance for his declining years. +Hence he determined to abandon himself to the stream of feeling, +and perhaps was surprised to find what an exceedingly shallow rill +it was. As in droughty regions baptism by immersion could only be +performed symbolically, Mr. Casaubon found that sprinkling was +the utmost approach to a plunge which his stream would afford him; +and he concluded that the poets had much exaggerated the force +of masculine passion. Nevertheless, he observed with pleasure that +Miss Brooke showed an ardent submissive affection which promised +to fulfil his most agreeable previsions of marriage. It had once +or twice crossed his mind that possibly there, was some deficiency +in Dorothea to account for the moderation of his abandonment; +but he was unable to discern the deficiency, or to figure to himself +a woman who would have pleased him better; so that there was clearly +no reason to fall back upon but the exaggerations of human tradition. + +"Could I not be preparing myself now to be more useful?" +said Dorothea to him, one morning, early in the time of courtship; +"could I not learn to read Latin and Greek aloud to you, as Milton's +daughters did to their father, without understanding what they read?" + +"I fear that would be wearisome to you," said Mr. Casaubon, smiling; +"and, indeed, if I remember rightly, the young women you have +mentioned regarded that exercise in unknown tongues as a ground +for rebellion against the poet." + +"Yes; but in the first place they were very naughty girls, else they +would have been proud to minister to such a father; and in the second +place they might have studied privately and taught themselves to +understand what they read, and then it would have been interesting. +I hope you don't expect me to be naughty and stupid?" + +"I expect you to be all that an exquisite young lady can be in every +possible relation of life. Certainly it might be a great advantage +if you were able to copy the Greek character, and to that end it +were well to begin with a little reading." + +Dorothea seized this as a precious permission. She would not have +asked Mr. Casaubon at once to teach her the languages, dreading of all +things to be tiresome instead of helpful; but it was not entirely +out of devotion to her future husband that she wished to know Latin +and Creek. Those provinces of masculine knowledge seemed to her +a standing-ground from which all truth could be seen more truly. +As it was, she constantly doubted her own conclusions, because she +felt her own ignorance: how could she be confident that one-roomed +cottages were not for the glory of God, when men who knew the classics +appeared to conciliate indifference to the cottages with zeal +for the glory? Perhaps even Hebrew might be necessary--at least the +alphabet and a few roots--in order to arrive at the core of things, +and judge soundly on the social duties of the Christian. And she +had not reached that point of renunciation at which she would have +been satisfier' with having a wise husband: she wished, poor child, +to be wise herself. Miss Brooke was certainly very naive with al: +her alleged cleverness. Celia, whose mind had never been thought +too powerful, saw the emptiness of other people's pretensions much +more readily. To have in general but little feeling, seems to be +the only security against feeling too much on any particular occasion. + +However, Mr. Casaubon consented to listen and teach for an hour together, +like a schoolmaster of little boys, or rather like a lover, +to whom a mistress's elementary ignorance and difficulties have +a touching fitness. Few scholars would have disliked teaching +the alphabet under such circumstances. But Dorothea herself +was a little shocked and discouraged at her own stupidity, +and the answers she got to some timid questions about the value +of the Greek accents gave her a painful suspicion that here indeed +there might be secrets not capable of explanation to a woman's reason. + +Mr. Brooke had no doubt on that point, and expressed himself with +his usual strength upon it one day that he came into the library +while the reading was going forward. + +"Well, but now, Casaubon, such deep studies, classics, mathematics, +that kind of thing, are too taxing for a woman--too taxing, you know." + +"Dorothea is learning to read the characters simply," said Mr. Casaubon, +evading the question. "She had the very considerate thought +of saving my eyes." + +"Ah, well, without understanding, you know--that may not be so bad. +But there is a lightness about the feminine mind--a touch and go--music, +the fine arts, that kind of thing--they should study those up +to a certain point, women should; but in a light way, you know. +A woman should be able to sit down and play you or sing you a good old +English tune. That is what I like; though I have heard most things--been +at the opera in Vienna: Gluck, Mozart, everything of that sort. +But I'm a conservative in music--it's not like ideas, you know. +I stick to the good old tunes." + +"Mr. Casaubon is not fond of the piano, and I am very glad he is not," +said Dorothea, whose slight regard for domestic music and feminine +fine art must be forgiven her, considering the small tinkling +and smearing in which they chiefly consisted at that dark period. +She smiled and looked up at her betrothed with grateful eyes. +If he had always been asking her to play the "Last Rose of Summer," +she would have required much resignation. "He says there is only an old +harpsichord at Lowick, and it is covered with books." + +"Ah, there you are behind Celia, my dear. Celia, now, +plays very prettily, and is always ready to play. However, +since Casaubon does not like it, you are all right. But it's +a pity you should not have little recreations of that sort, +Casaubon: the bow always strung--that kind of thing, you know--will not do." + +"I never could look on it in the light of a recreation to have my +ears teased with measured noises," said Mr. Casaubon. "A tune much +iterated has the ridiculous effect of making the words in my mind +perform a sort of minuet to keep time--an effect hardly tolerable, +I imagine, after boyhood. As to the grander forms of music, +worthy to accompany solemn celebrations, and even to serve as +an educating influence according to the ancient conception, +I say nothing, for with these we are not immediately concerned." + +"No; but music of that sort I should enjoy," said Dorothea. +"When we were coming home from Lausanne my uncle took us to hear +the great organ at Freiberg, and it made me sob." + +"That kind of thing is not healthy, my dear," said Mr. Brooke. +"Casaubon, she will be in your hands now: you must teach my niece +to take things more quietly, eh, Dorothea?" + +He ended with a smile, not wishing to hurt his niece, but really +thinking that it was perhaps better for her to be early married +to so sober a fellow as Casaubon, since she would not hear of Chettam. + +"It is wonderful, though," he said to himself as he shuffled out +of the room--"it is wonderful that she should have liked him. +However, the match is good. I should have been travelling out of my +brief to have hindered it, let Mrs. Cadwallader say what she will. +He is pretty certain to be a bishop, is Casaubon. That was a very +seasonable pamphlet of his on the Catholic Question:--a deanery +at least. They owe him a deanery." + +And here I must vindicate a claim to philosophical reflectiveness, +by remarking that Mr. Brooke on this occasion little thought +of the Radical speech which, at a later period, he was led to make +on the incomes of the bishops. What elegant historian would +neglect a striking opportunity for pointing out that his heroes +did not foresee the history of the world, or even their own +actions?--For example, that Henry of Navarre, when a Protestant baby, +little thought of being a Catholic monarch; or that Alfred the Great, +when he measured his laborious nights with burning candles, had no +idea of future gentlemen measuring their idle days with watches. +Here is a mine of truth, which, however vigorously it may be worked, +is likely to outlast our coal. + +But of Mr. Brooke I make a further remark perhaps less warranted +by precedent--namely, that if he had foreknown his speech, +it might not have made any great difference. To think with pleasure +of his niece's husband having a large ecclesiastical income was +one thing--to make a Liberal speech was another thing; and it is +a narrow mind which cannot look at a subject from various points of view. + +CHAPTER VIII. + + "Oh, rescue her! I am her brother now, + And you her father. Every gentle maid + Should have a guardian in each gentleman." + +It was wonderful to Sir James Chettam how well he continued to like +going to the Grange after he had once encountered the difficulty +of seeing Dorothea for the first time in the light of a woman who was +engaged to another man. Of course the forked lightning seemed to pass +through him when he first approached her, and he remained conscious +throughout the interview of hiding uneasiness; but, good as he was, +it must be owned that his uneasiness was less than it would have +been if he had thought his rival a brilliant and desirable match. +He had no sense of being eclipsed by Mr. Casaubon; he was only shocked +that Dorothea was under a melancholy illusion, and his mortification +lost some of its bitterness by being mingled with compassion. + +Nevertheless, while Sir James said to himself that he had +completely resigned her, since with the perversity of a Desdemona +she had not affected a proposed match that was clearly suitable +and according to nature; he could not yet be quite passive under +the idea of her engagement to Mr. Casaubon. On the day when he +first saw them together in the light of his present knowledge, +it seemed to him that he had not taken the affair seriously enough. +Brooke was really culpable; he ought to have hindered it. Who could +speak to him? Something might be done perhaps even now, at least +to defer the marriage. On his way home he turned into the Rectory +and asked for Mr. Cadwallader. Happily, the Rector was at home, +and his visitor was shown into the study, where all the fishing +tackle hung. But he himself was in a little room adjoining, +at work with his turning apparatus, and he called to the baronet +to join him there. The two were better friends than any other +landholder and clergyman in the county--a significant fact +which was in agreement with the amiable expression of their faees. + +Mr. Cadwallader was a large man, with full lips and a sweet smile; +very plain and rough in his exterior, but with that solid imperturbable +ease and good-humor which is infectious, and like great grassy hills +in the sunshine, quiets even an irritated egoism, and makes it +rather ashamed of itself. "Well, how are you?" he said, showing a +hand not quite fit to be grasped. "Sorry I missed you before. +Is there anything particular? You look vexed." + +Sir James's brow had a little crease in it, a little depression +of the eyebrow, which he seemed purposely to exaggerate as he answered. + +"It is only this conduct of Brooke's. I really think somebody +should speak to him." + +"What? meaning to stand?" said Mr. Cadwallader, going on with +the arrangement of the reels which he had just been turning. +"I hardly think he means it. But where's the harm, if he likes it? +Any one who objects to Whiggery should be glad when the Whigs don't +put up the strongest fellow. They won't overturn the Constitution +with our friend Brooke's head for a battering ram." + +"Oh, I don't mean that," said Sir James, who, after putting down +his hat and throwing himself into a chair, had begun to nurse +his leg and examine the sole of his boot with much bitterness. +"I mean this marriage. I mean his letting that blooming young girl +marry Casaubon." + +"What is the matter with Casaubon? I see no harm in him--if the girl +likes him." + +"She is too young to know what she likes. Her guardian ought +to interfere. He ought not to allow the thing to be done in this +headlong manner. I wonder a man like you, Cadwallader--a man +with daughters, can look at the affair with indifference: +and with such a heart as yours! Do think seriously about it." + +"I am not joking; I am as serious as possible," said the Rector, +with a provoking little inward laugh. "You are as bad as Elinor. +She has been wanting me to go and lecture Brooke; and I have reminded +her that her friends had a very poor opinion of the match she made +when she married me." + +"But look at Casaubon," said Sir James, indignantly. "He must +be fifty, and I don't believe he could ever have been much more +than the shadow of a man. Look at his legs!" + +"Confound you handsome young fellows! you think of having it +all your own way in the world. Tou don't under stand women. +They don't admire you half so much as you admire yourselves. +Elinor used to tell her sisters that she married me for my ugliness--it +was so various and amusing that it had quite conquered her prudence." + +"You! it was easy enough for a woman to love you. But this is no +question of beauty. I don't LIKE Casaubon." This was Sir James's +strongest way of implying that he thought ill of a man's character. + +"Why? what do you know against him?" said the Rector laying down +his reels, and putting his thumbs into his armholes with an air +of attention. + +Sir James paused. He did not usually find it easy to give his +reasons: it seemed to him strange that people should not know +them without being told, since he only felt what was reasonable. +At last he said-- + +"Now, Cadwallader, has he got any heart?" + +"Well, yes. I don't mean of the melting sort, but a sound kernel, +THAT you may be sure of. He is very good to his poor relations: +pensions several of the women, and is educating a young fellow at +a good deal of expense. Casaubon acts up to his sense of justice. +His mother's sister made a bad match--a Pole, I think--lost herself--at +any rate was disowned by her family. If it had not been for that, +Casaubon would not have had so much money by half. I believe he went +himself to find out his cousins, and see what he could do for them. +Every man would not ring so well as that, if you tried his metal. +YOU would, Chettam; but not every man." + +"I don't know," said Sir James, coloring. "I am not so sure of myself." +He paused a moment, and then added, "That was a right thing for +Casaubon to do. But a man may wish to do what is right, and yet +be a sort of parchment code. A woman may not be happy with him. +And I think when a girl is so young as Miss Brooke is, her friends +ought to interfere a little to hinder her from doing anything foolish. +You laugh, because you fancy I have some feeling on my own account. +But upon my honor, it is not that. I should feel just the same if I +were Miss Brooke's brother or uncle." + +"Well, but what should you do?" + +"I should say that the marriage must not be decided on until she was +of age. And depend upon it, in that case, it would never come off. +I wish you saw it as I do--I wish you would talk to Brooke about it." + +Sir James rose as he was finishing his sentence, for he saw +Mrs. Cadwallader entering from the study. She held by the hand her +youngest girl, about five years old, who immediately ran to papa, +and was made comfortable on his knee. + +"I hear what you are talking about," said the wife. "But you +will make no impression on Humphrey. As long as the fish rise +to his bait, everybody is what he ought to be. Bless you, +Casaubon has got a trout-stream, and does not care about fishing +in it himself: could there be a better fellow?" + +"Well, there is something in that," said the Rector, with his quiet, +inward laugh. "It is a very good quality in a man to have +a trout-stream." + +"But seriously," said Sir James, whose vexation had not yet spent itself, +"don't you think the Rector might do some good by speaking?" + +"Oh, I told you beforehand what he would say," answered Mrs. Cadwallader, +lifting up her eyebrows. "I have done what I could: I wash +my hands of the marriage." + +"In the first place," said the Rector, looking rather grave, +"it would be nonsensical to expect that I could convince Brooke, +and make him act accordingly. Brooke is a very good fellow, but pulpy; +he will run into any mould, but he won't keep shape." + +"He might keep shape long enough to defer the marriage," said Sir James. + +"But, my dear Chettam, why should I use my influence to Casaubon's +disadvantage, unless I were much surer than I am that I should be +acting for the advantage of Miss Brooke? I know no harm of Casaubon. +I don't care about his Xisuthrus and Fee-fo-fum and the rest; +but then he doesn't care about my fishing-tackle. As to the line he +took on the Catholic Question, that was unexpected; but he has always +been civil to me, and I don't see why I should spoil his sport. +For anything I can tell, Miss Brooke may be happier with him than +she would be with any other man." + +"Humphrey! I have no patience with you. You know you would rather +dine under the hedge than with Casaubon alone. You have nothing +to say to each other." + +"What has that to do with Miss Brooke's marrying him? She does +not do it for my amusement." + +"He has got no good red blood in his body," said Sir James. + +"No. Somebody put a drop under a magnifying-glass and it was all +semicolons and parentheses," said Mrs. Cadwallader. + +"Why does he not bring out his book, instead of marrying," +said Sir James, with a disgust which he held warranted by the sound +feeling of an English layman. + +"Oh, he dreams footnotes, and they run away with all his brains. +They say, when he was a little boy, he made an abstract of +`Hop o' my Thumb,' and he has been making abstracts ever since. +Ugh! And that is the man Humphrey goes on saying that a woman may be +happy with." + +"Well, he is what Miss Brooke likes," said the Rector. "I don't +profess to understand every young lady's taste." + +"But if she were your own daughter?" said Sir James. + +"That would be a different affair. She is NOT my daughter, +and I don't feel called upon to interfere. Casaubon is as good +as most of us. He is a scholarly clergyman, and creditable to +the cloth. Some Radical fellow speechifying at Middlemarch said +Casaubon was the learned straw-chopping incumbent, and Freke was +the brick-and-mortar incumbent, and I was the angling incumbent. +And upon my word, I don't see that one is worse or better than +the other." The Rector ended with his silent laugh. He always saw +the joke of any satire against himself. His conscience was large +and easy, like the rest of him: it did only what it could do without +any trouble. + +Clearly, there would be no interference with Miss Brooke's +marriage through Mr. Cadwallader; and Sir James felt with some +sadness that she was to have perfect liberty of misjudgment. +It was a sign of his good disposition that he did not slacken +at all in his intention of carrying out Dorothea's de. +sign of the cottages. Doubtless this persistence was the best +course for his own dignity: but pride only helps us to be generous; +it never makes us so, any more than vanity makes us witty. +She was now enough aware of Sir James's position with regard to her, +to appreciate the rectitude of his perseverance in a landlord's duty, +to which he had at first been urged by a lover's complaisance, +and her pleasure in it was great enough to count for something +even in her present happiness. Per. haps she gave to Sir James +Chettam's cottages all the interest she could spare from Mr. Casaubon, +or rather from the symphony of hopeful dreams, admiring trust, +and passionate self devotion which that learned gentleman had set +playing in her soul. Hence it happened that in the good baronet's +succeed ing visits, while he was beginning to pay small attentions +to Celia, he found himself talking with more and more pleasure +to Dorothea. She was perfectly unconstrained and without irritation +towards him now, and he was gradually discovering the delight there +is in frank kindness and companionship between a man and a woman +who have no passion to hide or confess. + +CHAPTER IX. + + 1st Gent. An ancient land in ancient oracles + Is called "law-thirsty": all the struggle there + Was after order and a perfect rule. + Pray, where lie such lands now? . . . + 2d Gent. Why, where they lay of old--in human souls. + +Mr. Casaubon's behavior about settlements was highly satisfactory +to Mr. Brooke, and the preliminaries of marriage rolled smoothly along, +shortening the weeks of courtship. The betrothed bride must see +her future home, and dictate any changes that she would like to have +made there. A woman dictates before marriage in order that she +may have an appetite for submission afterwards. And certainly, +the mistakes that we male and female mortals make when we have our +own way might fairly raise some wonder that we are so fond of it. + +On a gray but dry November morning Dorothea drove to Lowick +in company with her uncle and Celia. Mr. Casaubon's home was +the manor-house. Close by, visible from some parts of the garden, +was the little church, with the old parsonage opposite. +In the beginning of his career, Mr. Casaubon had only held +the living, but the death of his brother had put him in possession +of the manor also. It had a small park, with a fine old oak here +and there, and an avenue of limes towards the southwest front, +with a sunk fence between park and pleasure-ground, so that from the +drawing-room windows the glance swept uninterruptedly along a slope +of greensward till the limes ended in a level of corn and pastures, +which often seemed to melt into a lake under the setting sun. +This was the happy side of the house, for the south and east looked +rather melancholy even under the brightest morning. The grounds here +were more confined, the flower-beds showed no very careful tendance, +and large clumps of trees, chiefly of sombre yews, had risen high, +not ten yards from the windows. The building, of greenish stone, +was in the old English style, not ugly, but small-windowed and +melancholy-looking: the sort of house that must have children, +many flowers, open windows, and little vistas of bright things, +to make it seem a joyous home. In this latter end of autumn, +with a sparse remnant of yellow leaves falling slowly athwart the dark +evergreens in a stillness without sunshine, the house too had an air +of autumnal decline, and Mr. Casaubon, when he presented himself, +had no bloom that could be thrown into relief by that background. + +"Oh dear!" Celia said to herself, "I am sure Freshitt Hall would +have been pleasanter than this." She thought of the white freestone, +the pillared portico, and the terrace full of flowers, Sir James +smiling above them like a prince issuing from his enchantment +in a rose-bush, with a handkerchief swiftly metamorphosed +from the most delicately odorous petals--Sir James, who talked +so agreeably, always about things which had common-sense in them, +and not about learning! Celia had those light young feminine tastes +which grave and weatherworn gentlemen sometimes prefer in a wife; +but happily Mr. Casaubon's bias had been different, for he would +have had no chance with Celia. + +Dorothea, on the contrary, found the house and grounds all +that she could wish: the dark book-shelves in the long library, +the carpets and curtains with colors subdued by time, the curious +old maps and bird's-eye views on the walls of the corridor, +with here and there an old vase below, had no oppression for her, +and seemed more cheerful than the easts and pictures at the Grange, +which her uncle had long ago brought home from his travels--they +being probably among the ideas he had taken in at one time. +To poor Dorothea these severe classical nudities and smirking +Renaissance-Correggiosities were painfully inexplicable, staring into +the midst of her Puritanic conceptions: she had never been taught +how she could bring them into any sort of relevance with her life. +But the owners of Lowick apparently had not been travellers, +and Mr. Casaubon's studies of the past were not carried on by means +of such aids. + +Dorothea walked about the house with delightful emotion. +Everything seemed hallowed to her: this was to be the home +of her wifehood, and she looked up with eyes full of confidence +to Mr. Casaubon when he drew her attention specially to some +actual arrangement and asked her if she would like an alteration. +All appeals to her taste she met gratefully, but saw nothing to alter. +His efforts at exact courtesy and formal tenderness had no defect +for her. She filled up all blanks with unmanifested perfections, +interpreting him as she interpreted the works of Providence, +and accounting for seeming discords by her own deafness to the +higher harmonies. And there are many blanks left in the weeks +of courtship which a loving faith fills with happy assurance. + +"Now, my dear Dorothea, I wish you to favor me by pointing out which +room you would like to have as your boudoir," said Mr. Casaubon, +showing that his views of the womanly nature were sufficiently +large to include that requirement. + +"It is very kind of you to think of that," said Dorothea, "but I +assure you I would rather have all those matters decided for me. +I shall be much happier to take everything as it is--just as you +have been used to have it, or as you will yourself choose it to be. +I have no motive for wishing anything else." + +"Oh, Dodo," said Celia, "will you not have the bow-windowed +room up-stairs?" + +Mr. Casaubon led the way thither. The bow-window looked down the +avenue of limes; the furniture was all of a faded blue, and there +were miniatures of ladies and gentlemen with powdered hair hanging +in a group. A piece of tapestry over a door also showed a blue-green +world with a pale stag in it. The chairs and tables were thin-legged +and easy to upset. It was a room where one might fancy the ghost +of a tight-laced lady revisiting the scene of her embroidery. +A light bookcase contained duodecimo volumes of polite literature +in calf, completing the furniture. + +"Yes," said Mr. Brooke, "this would be a pretty room with some +new hangings, sofas, and that sort of thing. A little bare now." + +"No, uncle," said Dorothea, eagerly. "Pray do not speak of +altering anything. There are so many other things in the world +that want altering--I like to take these things as they are. +And you like them as they are, don't you?" she added, looking at +Mr. Casaubon. "Perhaps this was your mother's room when she was young." + +"It was," he said, with his slow bend of the head. + +"This is your mother," said Dorothea, who had turned to examine +the group of miniatures. "It is like the tiny one you brought me; +only, I should think, a better portrait. And this one opposite, +who is this?" + +"Her elder sister. They were, like you and your sister, the only +two children of their parents, who hang above them, you see." + +"The sister is pretty," said Celia, implying that she thought +less favorably of Mr. Casaubon's mother. It was a new open ing +to Celia's imagination, that he came of a family who had all been +young in their time--the ladies wearing necklaces. + +"It is a peculiar face," said Dorothea, looking closely. "Those deep +gray eyes rather near together--and the delicate irregular nose with +a sort of ripple in it--and all the powdered curls hanging backward. +Altogether it seems to me peculiar rather than pretty. There is +not even a family likeness between her and your mother." + +"No. And they were not alike in their lot." + +"You did not mention her to me," said Dorothea. + +"My aunt made an unfortunate marriage. I never saw her." + +Dorothea wondered a little, but felt that it would be indelicate just +then to ask for any information which Mr. Casaubon did not proffer, +and she turned to the window to admire the view. The sun had lately +pierced the gray, and the avenue of limes cast shadows. + +"Shall we not walk in the garden now?" said Dorothea. + +"And you would like to see the church, you know," said Mr. Brooke. +"It is a droll little church. And the village. It all lies in a +nut-shell. By the way, it will suit you, Dorothea; for the cottages +are like a row of alms-houses--little gardens, gilly-flowers, that +sort of thing." + +"Yes, please," said Dorothea, looking at Mr. Casaubon, "I should +like to see all that." She had got nothing from him more graphic +about the Lowick cottages than that they were "not bad." + +They were soon on a gravel walk which led chiefly between grassy +borders and clumps of trees, this being the nearest way to the church, +Mr. Casaubon said. At the little gate leading into the churchyard +there was a pause while Mr. Casaubon went to the parsonage close +by to fetch a key. Celia, who had been hanging a little in the rear, +came up presently, when she saw that Mr. Casaubon was gone away, +and said in her easy staccato, which always seemed to contradict +the suspicion of any malicious intent-- + +"Do you know, Dorothea, I saw some one quite young coming up one +of the walks." + +"Is that astonishing, Celia?" + +"There may be a young gardener, you know--why not?" said Mr. Brooke. +"I told Casaubon he should change his gardener." + +"No, not a gardener," said Celia; "a gentleman with a sketch-book. He +had light-brown curls. I only saw his back. But he was quite young." + +"The curate's son, perhaps," said Mr. Brooke. "Ah, there is +Casaubon again, and Tucker with him. He is going to introduce Tucker. +You don't know Tucker yet." + +Mr. Tucker was the middle-aged curate, one of the "inferior clergy," +who are usually not wanting in sons. But after the introduction, +the conversation did not lead to any question about his family, +and the startling apparition of youthfulness was forgotten by every +one but Celia. She inwardly declined to believe that the light-brown +curls and slim figure could have any relationship to Mr. Tucker, +who was just as old and musty-looking as she would have expected +Mr. Casaubon's curate to be; doubtless an excellent man who would go +to heaven (for Celia wished not to be unprincipled), but the corners +of his mouth were so unpleasant. Celia thought with some dismalness +of the time she should have to spend as bridesmaid at Lowick, while the +curate had probably no pretty little children whom she could like, +irrespective of principle. + +Mr. Tucker was invaluable in their walk; and perhaps Mr. Casaubon +had not been without foresight on this head, the curate being able +to answer all Dorothea's questions about the villagers and the +other parishioners. Everybody, he assured her, was well off in Lowick: +not a cottager in those double cottages at a low rent but kept a pig, +and the strips of garden at the back were well tended. The small +boys wore excellent corduroy, the girls went out as tidy servants, +or did a little straw-plaiting at home: no looms here, no Dissent; +and though the public disposition was rather towards laying +by money than towards spirituality, there was not much vice. +The speckled fowls were so numerous that Mr. Brooke observed, +"Your farmers leave some barley for the women to glean, I see. +The poor folks here might have a fowl in their pot, as the good French +king used to wish for all his people. The French eat a good many +fowls--skinny fowls, you know." + +"I think it was a very cheap wish of his," said Dorothea, indignantly. +"Are kings such monsters that a wish like that must be reckoned +a royal virtue?" + +"And if he wished them a skinny fowl," said Celia, "that would +not be nice. But perhaps he wished them to have fat fowls." + +"Yes, but the word has dropped out of the text, or perhaps was +subauditum; that is, present in the king's mind, but not uttered," +said Mr. Casaubon, smiling and bending his head towards Celia, +who immediately dropped backward a little, because she could not bear +Mr. Casaubon to blink at her. + +Dorothea sank into silence on the way back to the house. She felt +some disappointment, of which she was yet ashamed, that there was +nothing for her to do in Lowick; and in the next few minutes her mind +had glanced over the possibility, which she would have preferred, +of finding that her home would be in a parish which had a larger +share of the world's misery, so that she might have had more active +duties in it. Then, recurring to the future actually before her, +she made a picture of more complete devotion to Mr. Casaubon's +aims in which she would await new duties. Many such might reveal +themselves to the higher knowledge gained by her in that companionship. + +Mr. Tucker soon left them, having some clerical work which would +not allow him to lunch at the Hall; and as they were re-entering +the garden through the little gate, Mr. Casaubon said-- + +"You seem a little sad, Dorothea. I trust you are pleased with +what you have seen." + +"I am feeling something which is perhaps foolish and wrong," +answered Dorothea, with her usual openness--"almost wishing that +the people wanted more to be done for them here. I have known +so few ways of making my life good for anything. Of course, +my notions of usefulness must be narrow. I must learn new ways +of helping people." + +"Doubtless," said Mr. Casaubon. "Each position has its +corresponding duties. Yours, I trust, as the mistress of Lowick, +will not leave any yearning unfulfilled." + +"Indeed, I believe that," said Dorothea, earnestly. "Do not suppose +that I am sad." + +"That is well. But, if you are not tired, we will take another way +to the house than that by which we came." + +Dorothea was not at all tired, and a little circuit was made +towards a fine yew-tree, the chief hereditary glory of the grounds +on this side of the house. As they approached it, a figure, +conspicuous on a dark background of evergreens, was seated on +a bench, sketching the old tree. Mr. Brooke, who was walking +in front with Celia, turned his head, and said-- + +"Who is that youngster, Casaubon?" + +They had come very near when Mr. Casaubon answered-- + +"That is a young relative of mine, a second cousin: the grandson, +in fact," he added, looking at Dorothea, "of the lady whose portrait +you have been noticing, my aunt Julia." + +The young man had laid down his sketch-book and risen. His bushy +light-brown curls, as well as his youthfulness, identified him +at once with Celia's apparition. + +"Dorothea, let me introduce to you my cousin, Mr. Ladislaw. +Will, this is Miss Brooke." + +The cousin was so close now, that, when he lifted his hat, +Dorothea could see a pair of gray eves rather near together, +a delicate irregular nose with a little ripple in it, and hair +falling backward; but there was a mouth and chin of a more prominent, +threatening aspect than belonged to the type of the grandmother's +miniature. Young Ladislaw did not feel it necessary to smile, +as if he were charmed with this introduction to his future second +cousin and her relatives; but wore rather a pouting air of discontent. + +"You are an artist, I see," said Mr. Brooke, taking up the sketch-book +and turning it over in his unceremonious fashion. + +"No, I only sketch a little. There is nothing fit to be seen there," +said young Ladislaw, coloring, perhaps with temper rather than modesty. + +"Oh, come, this is a nice bit, now. I did a little in this way +myself at one time, you know. Look here, now; this is what I +call a nice thing, done with what we used to call BRIO." +Mr. Brooke held out towards the two girls a large colored sketch +of stony ground and trees, with a pool. + +"I am no judge of these things," said Dorothea, not coldly, but with +an eager deprecation of the appeal to her. "You know, uncle, I never +see the beauty of those pictures which you say are so much praised. +They are a language I do not understand. I suppose there is some +relation between pictures and nature which I am too ignorant to +feel--just as you see what a Greek sentence stands for which means +nothing to me." Dorothea looked up at Mr. Casaubon, who bowed +his head towards her, while Mr. Brooke said, smiling nonchalantly-- + +"Bless me, now, how different people are! But you had a bad style +of teaching, you know--else this is just the thing for girls--sketching, +fine art and so on. But you took to drawing plans; you don't +understand morbidezza, and that kind of thing. You will come +to my house, I hope, and I will show you what I did in this way," +he continued, turning to young Ladislaw, who had to be recalled +from his preoccupation in observing Dorothea. Ladislaw had made up +his mind that she must be an unpleasant girl, since she was going +to marry Casaubon, and what she said of her stupidity about pictures +would have confirmed that opinion even if he had believed her. +As it was, he took her words for a covert judgment, and was certain +that she thought his sketch detestable. There was too much cleverness +in her apology: she was laughing both at her uncle and himself. +But what a voice! It was like the voice of a soul that had once lived +in an AEolian harp. This must be one of Nature's inconsistencies. +There could be no sort of passion in a girl who would marry Casaubon. +But he turned from her, and bowed his thanks for Mr. Brooke's invitation. + +"We will turn over my Italian engravings together," continued that +good-natured man. "I have no end of those things, that I have laid +by for years. One gets rusty in this part of the country, you know. +Not you, Casaubon; you stick to your studies; but my best ideas +get undermost--out of use, you know. You clever young men must +guard against indolence. I was too indolent, you know: else I +might have been anywhere at one time." + +"That is a seasonable admonition," said Mr. Casaubon; "but now we +will pass on to the house, lest the young ladies should be tired +of standing." + +When their backs were turned, young Ladislaw sat down to go +on with his sketching, and as he did so his face broke into an +expression of amusement which increased as he went on drawing, +till at last he threw back his head and laughed aloud. Partly it +was the reception of his own artistic production that tickled him; +partly the notion of his grave cousin as the lover of that girl; +and partly Mr. Brooke's definition of the place he might have +held but for the impediment of indolence. Mr. Will Ladislaw's +sense of the ludicrous lit up his features very agreeably: it was +the pure enjoyment of comicality, and had no mixture of sneering +and self-exaltation. + +"What is your nephew going to do with himself, Casaubon?" +said Mr. Brooke, as they went on. + +"My cousin, you mean--not my nephew." + +"Yes, yes, cousin. But in the way of a career, you know." + +"The answer to that question is painfully doubtful. On leaving Rugby +he declined to go to an English university, where I would gladly +have placed him, and chose what I must consider the anomalous course +of studying at Heidelberg. And now he wants to go abroad again, +without any special object, save the vague purpose of what he +calls culture, preparation for he knows not what. He declines +to choose a profession." + +"He has no means but what you furnish, I suppose." + +"I have always given him and his friends reason to understand +that I would furnish in moderation what was necessary for providing +him with a scholarly education, and launching him respectably. +I am-therefore bound to fulfil the expectation so raised," +said Mr. Casaubon, putting his conduct in the light of mere rectitude: +a trait of delicacy which Dorothea noticed with admiration. + +"He has a thirst for travelling; perhaps he may turn out a Bruce +or a Mungo Park," said Mr. Brooke. "I had a notion of that myself +at one time." + +"No, he has no bent towards exploration, or the enlargement +of our geognosis: that would be a special purpose which I could +recognize with some approbation, though without felicitating him +on a career which so often ends in premature and violent death. +But so far is he from having any desire for a more accurate knowledge +of the earth's surface, that he said he should prefer not to know +the sources of the Nile, and that there should be some unknown +regions preserved as hunting grounds for the poetic imagination." + +"Well, there is something in that, you know," said Mr. Brooke, +who had certainly an impartial mind. + +"It is, I fear, nothing more than a part of his general inaccuracy +and indisposition to thoroughness of all kinds, which would be a bad +augury for him in any profession, civil or sacred, even were he +so far submissive to ordinary rule as to choose one." + +"Perhaps he has conscientious scruples founded on his own unfitness," +said Dorothea, who was interesting herself in finding a favorable explanation. +"Because the law and medicine should be very serious professions +to undertake, should they not? People's lives and fortunes depend on them." + +"Doubtless; but I fear that my young relative Will Ladislaw is +chiefly determined in his aversion to these callings by a dislike +to steady application, and to that kind of acquirement which is +needful instrumentally, but is not charming or immediately inviting +to self-indulgent taste. I have insisted to him on what Aristotle has +stated with admirable brevity, that for the achievement of any work +regarded as an end there must be a prior exercise of many energies +or acquired facilities of a secondary order, demanding patience. +I have pointed to my own manuscript volumes, which represent +the toil of years preparatory to a work not yet accomplished. +But in vain. To careful reasoning of this kind he replies +by calling himself Pegasus, and every form of prescribed work `harness.'" + +Celia laughed. She was surprised to find that Mr. Casaubon could +say something quite amusing. + +"Well, you know, he may turn out a Byron, a Chatterton, +a Churchill--that sort of thing--there's no telling," said Mr. Brooke. +"Shall you let him go to Italy, or wherever else he wants to go?" + +"Yes; I have agreed to furnish him with moderate supplies for a year +or so; he asks no more. I shall let him be tried by the test +of freedom." + +"That is very kind of you," said Dorothea, looking up at Mr. Casaubon +with delight. "It is noble. After all, people may really have +in them some vocation which is not quite plain to themselves, +may they not? They may seem idle and weak because they are growing. +We should be very patient with each other, I think." + +"I suppose it is being engaged to be married that has made you +think patience good," said Celia, as soon as she and Dorothea +were alone together, taking off their wrappings. + +"You mean that I am very impatient, Celia." + +"Yes; when people don't do and say just what you like." Celia had +become less afraid of "saying things" to Dorothea since this +engagement: cleverness seemed to her more pitiable than ever. + +CHAPTER X. + +"He had catched a great cold, had he had no other clothes to wear +than the skin of a bear not yet killed."--FULLER. + +Young Ladislaw did not pay that visit to which Mr. Brooke had +invited him, and only six days afterwards Mr. Casaubon mentioned +that his young relative had started for the Continent, seeming by this +cold vagueness to waive inquiry. Indeed, Will had declined to fix +on any more precise destination than the entire area of Europe. +Genius, he held, is necessarily intolerant of fetters: on the one +hand it must have the utmost play for its spontaneity; on the other, +it may confidently await those messages from the universe which +summon it to its peculiar work, only placing itself in an attitude +of receptivity towards all sublime chances. The attitudes of +receptivity are various, and Will had sincerely tried many of them. +He was not excessively fond of wine, but he had several times taken +too much, simply as an experiment in that form of ecstasy; he had +fasted till he was faint, and then supped on lobster; he had made +himself ill with doses of opium. Nothing greatly original had resulted +from these measures; and the effects of the opium had convinced him +that there was an entire dissimilarity between his constitution +and De Quincey's. The superadded circumstance which would evolve +the genius had not yet come; the universe had not yet beckoned. +Even Caesar's fortune at one time was, but a grand presentiment. +We know what a masquerade all development is, and what effective shapes +may be disguised in helpless embryos.--In fact, the world is full +of hopeful analogies and handsome dubious eggs called possibilities. +Will saw clearly enough the pitiable instances of long incubation +producing no chick, and but for gratitude would have laughed +at Casaubon, whose plodding application, rows of note-books, and small +taper of learned theory exploring the tossed ruins of the world, +seemed to enforce a moral entirely encouraging to Will's generous +reliance on the intentions of the universe with regard to himself. +He held that reliance to be a mark of genius; and certainly it is no +mark to the contrary; genius consisting neither in self-conceit nor +in humility, but in a power to make or do, not anything in general, +but something in particular. Let him start for the Continent, then, +without our pronouncing on his future. Among all forms of mistake, +prophecy is the most gratuitous. + +But at present this caution against a too hasty judgment interests +me more in relation to Mr. Casaubon than to his young cousin. +If to Dorothea Mr. Casaubon had been the mere occasion which had set +alight the fine inflammable material of her youthful illusions, +does it follow that he was fairly represented in the minds of those +less impassioned personages who have hitherto delivered their +judgments concerning him? I protest against any absolute conclusion, +any prejudice derived from Mrs. Cadwallader's contempt for a neighboring +clergyman's alleged greatness of soul, or Sir James Chettam's poor +opinion of his rival's legs,--from Mr. Brooke's failure to elicit +a companion's ideas, or from Celia's criticism of a middle-aged +scholar's personal appearance. I am not sure that the greatest man +of his age, if ever that solitary superlative existed, could escape +these unfavorable reflections of himself in various small mirrors; +and even Milton, looking for his portrait in a spoon, must submit +to have the facial angle of a bumpkin. Moreover, if Mr. Casaubon, +speaking for himself, has rather a chilling rhetoric, it is not +therefore certain that there is no good work or fine feeling in him. +Did not an immortal physicist and interpreter of hieroglyphs write +detestable verses? Has the theory of the solar system been advanced +by graceful manners and conversational tact? Suppose we turn +from outside estimates of a man, to wonder, with keener interest, +what is the report of his own consciousness about his doings or +capacity: with what hindrances he is carrying on his daily labors; +what fading of hopes, or what deeper fixity of self-delusion the +years are marking off within him; and with what spirit he wrestles +against universal pressure, which will one day be too heavy for him, +and bring his heart to its final pause. Doubtless his lot is +important in his own eyes; and the chief reason that we think +he asks too large a place in our consideration must be our want +of room for him, since we refer him to the Divine regard with +perfect confidence; nay, it is even held sublime for our neighbor +to expect the utmost there, however little he may have got from us. +Mr. Casaubon, too, was the centre of his own world; if he was +liable to think that others were providentially made for him, +and especially to consider them in the light of their fitness +for the author of a "Key to all Mythologies," this trait is not +quite alien to us, and, like the other mendicant hopes of mortals, +claims some of our pity. + +Certainly this affair of his marriage with Miss Brooke touched him +more nearly than it did any one of the persons who have hitherto +shown their disapproval of it, and in the present stage of things I +feel more tenderly towards his experience of success than towards +the disappointment of the amiable Sir James. For in truth, as the +day fixed for his marriage came nearer, Mr. Casaubon did not find +his spirits rising; nor did the contemplation of that matrimonial +garden scene, where, as all experience showed, the path was to be +bordered with flowers, prove persistently more enchanting bo him +than the accustomed vaults where he walked taper in hand. He did +not confess to himself, still less could he have breathed to another, +his surprise that though he had won a lovely and noble-hearted girl +he had not won delight,--which he had also regarded as an object +to be found by search. It is true that he knew all the classical +passages implying the contrary; but knowing classical passages, +we find, is a mode of motion, which explains why they leave +so little extra force for their personal application. + +Poor Mr. Casaubon had imagined that his long studious bachelorhood +had stored up for him a compound interest of enjoyment, and that +large drafts on his affections would not fail to be honored; for we +all of us, grave or light, get our thoughts entangled in metaphors, +and act fatally on the strength of them. And now he was in danger +of being saddened by the very conviction that his circumstances +were unusually happy: there was nothing external by which he could +account for a certain blankness of sensibility which came over him +just when his expectant gladness should have been most lively, +just when he exchanged the accustomed dulness of his Lowick library +for his visits to the Grange. Here was a weary experience in which +he was as utterly condemned to loneliness as in the despair which +sometimes threatened him while toiling in the morass of authorship +without seeming nearer to the goal. And his was that worst +loneliness which would shrink from sympathy. He could not but wish +that Dorothea should think him not less happy than the world would +expect her successful suitor to be; and in relation to his authorship +he leaned on her young trust and veneration, he liked to draw +forth her fresh interest in listening, as a means of encouragement +to himself: in talking to her he presented all his performance and +intention with the reflected confidence of the pedagogue, and rid +himself for the time of that chilling ideal audience which crowded +his laborious uncreative hours with the vaporous pressure of Tartarean shades. + +For to Dorothea, after that toy-box history of the world adapted +to young ladies which had made the chief part of her education, +Mr. Casaubon's talk about his great book was full of new vistas; +and this sense of revelation, this surprise of a nearer introduction +to Stoics and Alexandrians, as people who had ideas not totally +unlike her own, kept in abeyance for the time her usual eagerness +for a binding theory which could bring her own life and doctrine +into strict connection with that amazing past, and give the remotest +sources of knowledge some bearing on her actions. That more complete +teaching would come--Mr. Casaubon would tell her all that: she was +looking forward to higher initiation in ideas, as she was looking +forward to marriage, and blending her dim conceptions of both. +It would be a great mistake to suppose that Dorothea would have cared +about any share in Mr. Casaubon's learning as mere accomplishment; +for though opinion in the neighborhood of Freshitt and Tipton +had pronounced her clever, that epithet would not have described +her to circles in whose more precise vocabulary cleverness implies +mere aptitude for knowing and doing, apart from character. +All her eagerness for acquirement lay within that full current of +sympathetic motive in which her ideas and impulses were habitually +swept along. She did not want to deck herself with knowledge--to +wear it loose from the nerves and blood that fed her action; and if +she had written a book she must have done it as Saint Theresa did, +under the command of an authority that constrained her conscience. +But something she yearned for by which her life might be filled +with action at once rational and ardent; and since the time was gone +by for guiding visions and spiritual directors, since prayer heightened +yearning but not instruction, what lamp was there but knowledge? +Surely learned men kept-the only oil; and who more learned than +Mr. Casaubon? + +Thus in these brief weeks Dorothea's joyous grateful expectation +was unbroken, and however her lover might occasionally be conscious +of flatness, he could never refer it to any slackening of her +affectionate interest. + +The season was mild enough to encourage the project of extending +the wedding journey as far as Rome, and Mr. Casaubon was anxious +for this because he wished to inspect some manuscripts in the Vatican. + +"I still regret that your sister is not to accompany us," he said +one morning, some time after it had been ascertained that Celia +objected to go, and that Dorothea did not wish for her companionship. +"You will have many lonely hours, Dorotheas, for I shall be +constrained to make the utmost use of my time during our stay in Rome, +and I should feel more at liberty if you had a companion." + +The words "I should feel more at liberty" grated on Dorothea. +For the first time in speaking to Mr. Casaubon she colored +from annoyance. + +"You must have misunderstood me very much," she said, "if you think +I should not enter into the value of your time--if you think that I +should not willingly give up whatever interfered with your using +it to the best purpose." + +"That is very amiable in you, my dear Dorothea," said Mr. Casaubon, +not in the least noticing that she was hurt; "but if you had a lady +as your companion, I could put you both under the care of a cicerone, +and we could thus achieve two purposes in the same space of time." + +"I beg you will not refer to this again," said Dorothea, rather haughtily. +But immediately she feared that she was wrong, and turning towards +him she laid her hand on his, adding in a different tone, "Pray do +not be anxious about me. I shall have so much to think of when I +am alone. And Tantripp will be a sufficient companion, just to take +care of me. I could not bear to have Celia: she would be miserable." + +It was time to dress. There was to be a dinner-party that day, +the last of the parties which were held at the Grange as proper +preliminaries to the wedding, and Dorothea was glad of a reason +for moving away at once on the sound of the bell, as if she needed +more than her usual amount of preparation. She was ashamed of being +irritated from some cause she could not define even to herse1f; +for though she had no intention to be untruthful, her reply had not +touched the real hurt within her. Mr. Casaubon's words had been +quite reasonable, yet they had brought a vague instantaneous sense +of aloofness on his part. + +"Surely I am in a strangely selfish weak state of mind," she said +to herself. "How can I have a husband who is so much above me +without knowing that he needs me less than I need him?" + +Having convinced herself that Mr. Casaubon was altogether right, +she recovered her equanimity, and was an agreeable image of serene +dignity when she came into the drawing-room in her silver-gray +dress--the simple lines of her dark-brown hair parted over her brow +and coiled massively behind, in keeping with the entire absence +from her manner and expression of all search after mere effect. +Sometimes when Dorothea was in company, there seemed to be as +complete an air of repose about her as if she had been a picture +of Santa Barbara looking out from her tower into the clear air; +but these intervals of quietude made the energy of her speech +and emotion the more remarked when some outward appeal had +touched her. + +She was naturally the subject of many observations this evening, +for the dinner-party was large and rather more miscellaneous +as to the male portion than any which had been held at the Grange +since Mr. Brooke's nieces had resided with him, so that the +talking was done in duos and trios more or less inharmonious. +There was the newly elected mayor of Middlemarch, who happened +to be a manufacturer; the philanthropic banker his brother-in-law, +who predominated so much in the town that some called him a Methodist, +others a hypocrite, according to the resources of their vocabulary; +and there were various professional men. In fact, Mrs. Cadwallader +said that Brooke was beginning to treat the Middlemarchers, +and that she preferred the farmers at the tithe-dinner, who drank her +health unpretentiously, and were not ashamed of their grandfathers' +furniture. For in that part of the country, before reform had +done its notable part in developing the political consciousness, +there was a clearer distinction of ranks and a dimmer distinction +of parties; so that Mr. Brooke's miscellaneous invitations seemed +to belong to that general laxity which came from his inordinate +travel and habit of taking too much in the form of ideas. + +Already, as Miss Brooke passed out of the dining-room, opportunity +was found for some interjectional "asides" + +"A fine woman, Miss Brooke! an uncommonly fine woman, by God!" +said Mr. Standish, the old lawyer, who had been so long concerned +with the landed gentry that he had become landed himself, and used +that oath in a deep-mouthed manner as a sort of armorial bearings, +stamping the speech of a man who held a good position. + +Mr. Bulstrode, the banker, seemed to be addressed, but that +gentleman disliked coarseness and profanity, and merely bowed. +The remark was taken up by Mr. Chichely, a middle-aged bachelor +and coursing celebrity, who had a complexion something like +an Easter egg, a few hairs carefully arranged, and a carriage +implying the consciousness of a distinguished appearance. + +"Yes, but not my style of woman: I like a woman who lays herself +out a little more to please us. There should be a little filigree +about a woman--something of the coquette. A man likes a sort +of challenge. The more of a dead set she makes at you the better." + +"There's some truth in that," said Mr. Standish, disposed to be genial. +"And, by God, it's usually the way with them. I suppose it answers +some wise ends: Providence made them so, eh, Bulstrode?" + +"I should be disposed to refer coquetry to another source," +said Mr. Bulstrode. "I should rather refer it to the devil." + +"Ay, to be sure, there should be a little devil in a woman," +said Mr. Chichely, whose study of the fair sex seemed to have been +detrimental to his theology. "And I like them blond, with a +certain gait, and a swan neck. Between ourselves, the mayor's +daughter is more to my taste than Miss Brooke or Miss Celia either. +If I were a marrying man I should choose Miss Vincy before either +of them." + +"Well, make up, make up," said Mr. Standish, jocosely; "you see +the middle-aged fellows early the day." + +Mr. Chichely shook his head with much meaning: he was not going +to incur the certainty of being accepted by the woman he would choose. + +The Miss Vincy who had the honor of being Mr. Chichely's ideal was +of course not present; for Mr. Brooke, always objecting to go too far, +would not have chosen that his nieces should meet the daughter +of a Middlemarch manufacturer, unless it were on a public occasion. +The feminine part of the company included none whom Lady +Chettam or Mrs. Cadwallader could object to; for Mrs. Renfrew, +the colonel's widow, was not only unexceptionable in point of breeding, +but also interesting on the ground of her complaint, which puzzled +the doctors, and seemed clearly a case wherein the fulness of +professional knowledge might need the supplement of quackery. +Lady Chettam, who attributed her own remarkable health to home-made +bitters united with constant medical attendance, entered with much +exercise of the imagination into Mrs. Renfrew's account of symptoms, +and into the amazing futility in her case of all, strengthening medicines. + +"Where can all the strength of those medicines go, my dear?" said the +mild but stately dowager, turning to Mrs. Cadwallader reflectively, +when Mrs. Renfrew's attention was called away. + +"It strengthens the disease," said the Rector's wife, much too +well-born not to be an amateur in medicine. "Everything depends on the +constitution: some people make fat, some blood, and some bile--that's +my view of the matter; and whatever they take is a sort of grist to the mill." + +"Then she ought to take medicines that would reduce--reduce +the disease, you know, if you are right, my dear. And I think +what you say is reasonable." + +"Certainly it is reasonable. You have two sorts of potatoes, +fed on the same soil. One of them grows more and more watery--" + +"Ah! like this poor Mrs. Renfrew--that is what I think. +Dropsy! There is no swelling yet--it is inward. I should say she ought +to take drying medicines, shouldn't you?--or a dry hot-air bath. +Many things might be tried, of a drying nature." + +"Let her try a certain person's pamphlets," said Mrs. Cadwallader +in an undertone, seeing the gentlemen enter. "He does not want drying." + +"Who, my dear?" said Lady Chettam, a charming woman, not so quick +as to nullify the pleasure of explanation. + +"The bridegroom--Casaubon. He has certainly been drying up faster +since the engagement: the flame of passion, I suppose." + +"I should think he is far from having a good constitution," +said Lady Chettam, with a still deeper undertone. "And then his +studies--so very dry, as you say." + +"Really, by the side of Sir James, he looks like a death's head +skinned over for the occasion. Mark my words: in a year from this +time that girl will hate him. She looks up to him as an oracle now, +and by-and-by she will be at the other extreme. All flightiness!" + +"How very shocking! I fear she is headstrong. But tell me--you +know all about him--is there anything very bad? What is the truth?" + +"The truth? he is as bad as the wrong physic--nasty to take, +and sure to disagree." + +"There could not be anything worse than that," said Lady Chettam, +with so vivid a conception of the physic that she seemed to have +learned something exact about Mr. Casaubon's disadvantages. +"However, James will hear nothing against Miss Brooke. He says she +is the mirror of women still." + +"That is a generous make-believe of his. Depend upon it, he likes +little Celia better, and she appreciates him. I hope you like my +little Celia?" + +"Certainly; she is fonder of geraniums, and seems more docile, +though not so fine a figure. But we were talking of physic. +Tell me about this new young surgeon, Mr. Lydgate. I am told he is +wonderfully clever: he certainly looks it--a fine brow indeed." + +"He is a gentleman. I heard him talking to Humphrey. He talks well." + +"Yes. Mr. Brooke says he is one of the Lydgates of Northumberland, +really well connected. One does not expect it in a practitioner +of that kind. For my own part, I like a medical man more on a footing +with the servants; they are often all the cleverer. I assure you +I found poor Hicks's judgment unfailing; I never knew him wrong. +He was coarse and butcher-like, but he knew my constitution. +It was a loss to me his going off so suddenly. Dear me, what a +very animated conversation Miss Brooke seems to be having with this +Mr. Lydgate!" + +"She is talking cottages and hospitals with him," said Mrs. Cadwallader, +whose ears and power of interpretation were quick. "I believe +he is a sort of philanthropist, so Brooke is sure to take him up." + +"James," said Lady Chettam when her son came near, "bring Mr. Lydgate +and introduce him to me. I want to test him." + +The affable dowager declared herself delighted with this opportunity +of making Mr. Lydgate's acquaintance, having heard of his success +in treating fever on a new plan. + +Mr. Lydgate had the medical accomplishment of looking perfectly grave +whatever nonsense was talked to him, and his dark steady eyes gave him +impressiveness as a listener. He was as little as possible like the +lamented Hicks, especially in a certain careless refinement about his +toilet and utterance. Yet Lady Chettam gathered much confidence in him. +He confirmed her view of her own constitution as being peculiar, +by admitting that all constitutions might be called peculiar, +and he did not deny that hers might be more peculiar than others. +He did not approve of a too lowering system, including reckless cupping, +nor, on the other hand, of incessant port wine and bark. He said "I +think so" with an air of so much deference accompanying the insight +of agreement, that she formed the most cordial opinion of his talents. + +"I am quite pleased with your protege," she said to Mr. Brooke +before going away. + +"My protege?--dear me!--who is that?" said Mr. Brooke. + +"This young Lydgate, the new doctor.-He seems to me to understand +his profession admirably." + +"Oh, Lydgate! he is not my protege, you know; only I knew an +uncle of his who sent me a letter about him. However, I think he +is likely to be first-rate--has studied in Paris, knew Broussais; +has ideas, you know--wants to raise the profession." + +"Lydgate has lots of ideas, quite new, about ventilation and diet, +that sort of thing," resumed Mr. Brooke, after he had handed out +Lady Chettam, and had returned to be civil to a group of Middlemarchers. + +"Hang it, do you think that is quite sound?--upsetting The old treatment, +which has made Englishmen what they re?" said Mr. Standish. + +"Medical knowledge is at a low ebb among us," said Mr. Bulstrode, +who spoke in a subdued tone, and had rather a sickly wir "I, for +my part, hail the advent of Mr. Lydgate. I hope to find good reason +for confiding the new hospital to his management." + +"That is all very fine," replied Mr. Standish, who was not fond of +Mr. Bulstrode; "if you like him to try experiments on your hospital +patients, and kill a few people for charity I have no objection. +But I am not going to hand money out of my purse to have experiments +tried on me. I like treatment that has been tested a little." + +"Well, you know, Standish, every dose you take is an experiment-an +experiment, you know," said Mr. Brooke, nodding towards the lawyer. + +"Oh, if you talk in that sense!" said Mr. Standish, with as much +disgust at such non-legal quibbling as a man can well betray towards +a valuable client. + +"I should be glad of any treatment that would cure me without +reducing me to a skeleton, like poor Grainger," said Mr. Vincy, +the mayor, a florid man, who would have served for a study of flesh +in striking contrast with the Franciscan tints of Mr. Bulstrode. +"It's an uncommonly dangerous thing to be left without any padding +against the shafts of disease, as somebody said,--and I think it a +very good expression myself." + +Mr. Lydgate, of course, was out of hearing. He had quitted the +party early, and would have thought it altogether tedious but for +the novelty of certain introductions, especially the introduction +to Miss Brooke, whose youthful bloom, with her approaching marriage +to that faded scholar, and her interest in matters socially useful, +gave her the piquancy of an unusual combination. + +"She is a good creature--that fine girl--but a little too earnest," +he thought. "It is troublesome to talk to such women. They are +always wanting reasons, yet they are too ignorant to understand +the merits of any question, and usually fall hack on their moral +sense to settle things after their own taste." + +Evidently Miss Brooke was not Mr. Lydgate's style of woman any more +than Mr. Chichely's. Considered, indeed, in relation to the latter, +whose mied was matured, she was altogether a mistake, and calculated +to shock his trust in final causes, including the adaptation of fine +young women to purplefaced bachelors. But Lydgate was less ripe, +and might possibly have experience before him which would modify +his opinion as to the most excellent things in woman. + +Miss Brooke, however, was not again seen by either of these +gentlemen under her maiden name. Not long after that dinner-party +she had become Mrs. Casaubon, and was on her way to Rome. + +CHAPTER XI. + + "But deeds and language such as men do use, + And persons such as comedy would choose, + When she would show an image of the times, + And sport with human follies, not with crimes." + --BEN JONSON. + +Lydgate, in fact, was already conscious of being fascinated by a +woman strikingly different from Miss Brooke: he did not in the +least suppose that he had lost his balance and fallen in love, +but he had said of that particular woman, "She is grace itself; +she is perfectly lovely and accomplished. That is what a woman +ought to be: she ought to produce the effect of exquisite music." +Plain women he regarded as he did the other severe facts of life, +to be faced with philosophy and investigated by science. But Rosamond +Vincy seemed to have the true melodic charm; and when a man has seen +the woman whom he would have chosen if he had intended to marry speedily, +his remaining a bachelor will usually depend on her resolution +rather than on his. Lydgate believed that he should not marry for +several years: not marry until he had trodden out a good clear path +for himself away from the broad road which was quite ready made. +He had seen Miss Vincy above his horizon almost as long as it +had taken Mr. Casaubon to become engaged and married: but this +learned gentleman was possessed of a fortune; he had assembled his +voluminous notes, and had made that sort of reputation which precedes +performance,--often the larger part of a man's fame. He took a wife, +as we have seen, to adorn the remaining quadrant of his course, +and be a little moon that would cause hardly a calculable perturbation. +But Lydgate was young, poor, ambitious. He had his half-century +before him instead of behind him, and he had come to Middlemarch bent +on doing many things that were not directly fitted to make his fortune +or even secure him a good income. To a man under such circumstances, +taking a wife is something more than a question of adornment, +however highly he may rate this; and Lydgate was disposed to give +it the first place among wifely functions. To his taste, guided by +a single conversation, here was the point on which Miss Brooke +would be found wanting, notwithstanding her undeniable beauty. +She did not look at things from the proper feminine angle. +The society of such women was about as relaxing as going from your +work to teach the second form, instead of reclining in a paradise +with sweet laughs for bird-notes, and blue eyes for a heaven. + +Certainly nothing at present could seem much less important to +Lydgate than the turn of Miss Brooke's mind, or to Miss Brooke than +the qualities of the woman who had attracted this young surgeon. +But any one watching keenly the stealthy convergence of human lots, +sees a slow preparation of effects from one life on another, +which tells like a calculated irony on the indifference or the +frozen stare with which we look at our unintroduced neighbor. +Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded +in her hand. + +Old provincial society had its share of this subtle movement: had +not only its striking downfalls, its brilliant young professional +dandies who ended by living up an entry with a drab and six children +for their establishment, but also those less marked vicissitudes +which are constantly shifting the boundaries of social intercourse, +and begetting new consciousness of interdependence. Some slipped +a little downward, some got higher footing: people denied aspirates, +gained wealth, and fastidious gentlemen stood for boroughs; +some were caught in political currents, some in ecclesiastical, +and perhaps found themselves surprisingly grouped in consequence; +while a few personages or families that stood with rocky firmness +amid all this fluctuation, were slowly presenting new aspects +in spite of solidity, and altering with the double change of self +and beholder. Municipal town and rural parish gradually made fresh +threads of connection--gradually, as the old stocking gave way to the +savings-bank, and the worship of the solar guinea became extinct; +while squires and baronets, and even lords who had once lived +blamelessly afar from the civic mind, gathered the faultiness of +closer acquaintanceship. Settlers, too, came from distant counties, +some with an alarming novelty of skill, others with an offensive +advantage in cunning. In fact, much the same sort of movement +and mixture went on in old England as we find in older Herodotus, +who also, in telling what had been, thought it well to take a woman's +lot for his starting-point; though Io, as a maiden apparently +beguiled by attractive merchandise, was the reverse of Miss Brooke, +and in this respect perhaps bore more resemblance to Rosamond Vincy, +who had excellent taste in costume, with that nymph-like figure +and pure blindness which give the largest range to choice in the flow +and color of drapery. But these things made only part of her charm. +She was admitted to be the flower of Mrs. Lemon's school, +the chief school in the county, where the teaching included all +that was demanded in the accomplished female--even to extras, +such as the getting in and out of a carriage. Mrs. Lemon herself +had always held up Miss Vincy as an example: no pupil, she said, +exceeded that young lady for mental acquisition and propriety +of speech, while her musical execution was quite exceptional. +We cannot help the way in which people speak of us, and probably if +Mrs. Lemon had undertaken to describe Juliet or Imogen, these heroines +would not have seemed poetical. The first vision of Rosamond would +have been enough with most judges to dispel any prejudice excited by +Mrs. Lemon's praise. + +Lydgate could not be long in Middlemarch without having that agreeable +vision, or even without making the acquaintance of the Vincy family; +for though Mr. Peacock, whose practice he had paid something to enter on, +had not been their doctor (Mrs. Vincy not liking the lowering system +adopted by him), he had many patients among their connections +and acquaintances. For who of any consequence in Middlemarch was +not connected or at least acquainted with the Vincys? They were +old manufacturers, and had kept a good house for three generations, +in which there had naturally been much intermarrying with neighbors +more or less decidedly genteel. Mr. Vincy's sister had made a wealthy +match in accepting Mr. Bulstrode, who, however, as a man not born +in the town, and altogether of dimly known origin, was considered +to have done well in uniting himself with a real Middlemarch family; +on the other hand, Mr. Vincy had descended a little, having taken +an innkeeper's daughter. But on this side too there was a cheering +sense of money; for Mrs. Vincy's sister had been second wife +to rich old Mr. Featherstone, and had died childless years ago, +so that her nephews and nieces might be supposed to touch the +affections of the widower. And it happened that Mr. Bulstrode +and Mr. Featherstone, two of Peacock's most important patients, +had, from different causes, given an especially good reception to +his successor, who had raised some partisanship as well as discussion. +Mr. Wrench, medical attendant to the Vincy family, very early had +grounds for thinking lightly of Lydgate's professional discretion, +and there was no report about him which was not retailed at the +Vincys', where visitors were frequent. Mr. Vincy was more inclined +to general good-fellowship than to taking sides, but there was +no need for him to be hasty in making any new man acquaintance. +Rosamond silently wished that her father would invite Mr. Lydgate. +She was tired of the faces and figures she had always been used +to--the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase +distinguishing those Middlemarch young men whom she had known as boys. +She had been at school with girls of higher position, whose brothers, +she felt sure, it would have been possible for her to be more +interested in, than in these inevitable Middlemarch companions. +But she would not have chosen to mention her wish to her father; +and he, for his part, was in no hurry on the subject. An alderman +about to be mayor must by-and-by enlarge his dinner-parties, +but at present there were plenty of guests at his well-spread table. + +That table often remained covered with the relics of the family breakfast +long after Mr. Vincy had gone with his second son to the warehouse, +and when Miss Morgan was already far on in morning lessons with the +younger girls in the schoolroom. It awaited the family laggard, +who found any sort of inconvenience (to others) less disagreeable +than getting up when he was called. This was the case one morning +of the October in which we have lately seen Mr. Casaubon visiting +the Grange; and though the room was a little overheated with the fire, +which had sent the spaniel panting to a remote corner, Rosamond, +for some reason, continued to sit at her embroidery longer than usual, +now and then giving herself a little shake, and laying her work +on her knee to contemplate it with an air of hesitating weariness. +Her mamma, who had returned from an excursion to the kitchen, +sat on the other side of the small work-table with an air +of more entire placidity, until, the clock again giving notice +that it was going to strike, she looked up from the lace-mending +which was occupying her plump fingers and rang the bell. + +"Knock at Mr. Fred's door again, Pritchard, and tell him it has +struck half-past ten." + +This was said without any change in the radiant good-humor of +Mrs. Vincy's face, in which forty-five years had delved neither +angles nor parallels; and pushing back her pink capstrings, she let +her work rest on her lap, while she looked admiringly at her daughter. + +"Mamma," said Rosamond, "when Fred comes down I wish you would +not let him have red herrings. I cannot bear the smell of them +all over the house at this hour of the morning." + +"Oh, my dear, you are so hard on your brothers! It is the only fault +I have to find with you. You are the sweetest temper in the world, +but you are so tetchy with your brothers." + +"Not tetchy, mamma: you never hear me speak in an unladylike way." + +"Well, but you want to deny them things." + +"Brothers are so unpleasant." + +"Oh, my dear, you must allow for young men. Be thankful if they +have good hearts. A woman must learn to put up with little things. +You will be married some day." + +"Not to any one who is like Fred." + +"Don't decry your own brother, my dear. Few young men have less +against them, although he couldn't take his degree--I'm sure I +can't understand why, for he seems to me most clever. And you know +yourself he was thought equal to the best society at college. +So particular as you are, my dear, I wonder you are not glad to have +such a gentlemanly young man for a brother. You are always finding +fault with Bob because he is not Fred." + +"Oh no, mamma, only because he is Bob." + +"Well, my dear, you will not find any Middlemarch young man who has +not something against him." + +"But"--here Rosamond's face broke into a smile which suddenly revealed +two dimples. She herself thought unfavorably of these dimples and smiled +little in general society. "But I shall not marry any Middlemarch young man." + +"So it seems, my love, for you have as good as refused the pick +of them; and if there's better to be had, I'm sure there's no girl +better deserves it." + +"Excuse me, mamma--I wish you would not say, `the pick of them.'" + +"Why, what else are they?" + +"I mean, mamma, it is rather a vulgar expression." + +"Very likely, my dear; I never was a good speaker. What should +I say?" + +"The best of them." + +"Why, that seems just as plain and common. If I had had time +to think, I should have said, `the most superior young men.' +But with your education you must know." + +"What must Rosy know, mother?" said Mr. Fred, who had +slid in unobserved through the half-open door while the +ladies were bending over their work, and now going up +to the fire stood with his back towards it, warming the soles of his slippers. + +"Whether it's right to say `superior young men,'" said Mrs. Vincy, +ringing the bell. + +"Oh, there are so many superior teas and sugars now. Superior is +getting to be shopkeepers' slang." + +"Are you beginning to dislike slang, then?" said Rosamond, +with mild gravity. + +"Only the wrong sort. All choice of words is slang. It marks +a class." + +"There is correct English: that is not slang." + +"I beg your pardon: correct English is the slang of prigs who write +history and essays. And the strongest slang of all is the slang +of poets." + +"You will say anything, Fred, to gain your point." + +"Well, tell me whether it is slang or poetry to call an ox +a leg-plaiter." + +"Of course you can call it poetry if you like." + +"Aha, Miss Rosy, you don't know Homer from slang. I shall invent +a new game; I shall write bits of slang and poetry on slips, +and give them to you to separate." + +"Dear me, how amusing it is to hear young people talk!" said Mrs. Vincy, +with cheerful admiration. + +"Have you got nothing else for my breakfast, Pritchard?" said Fred, +to the servant who brought in coffee and buttered toast; +while he walked round the table surveying the ham, potted beef, +and other cold remnants, with an air of silent rejection, and polite +forbearance from signs of disgust. + +"Should you like eggs, sir?" + +"Eggs, no! Bring me a grilled bone." + +"Really, Fred," said Rosamond, when the servant had left the room, +"if you must have hot things for breakfast, I wish you would come +down earlier. You can get up at six o'clock to go out hunting; +I cannot understand why you find it so difficult to get up on +other mornings." + +"That is your want of understanding, Rosy. I can get up to go +hunting because I like it." + +"What would you think of me if I came down two hours after every +one else and ordered grilled bone?" + +"I should think you were an uncommonly fast young lady," said Fred, +eating his toast with the utmost composure. + +"I cannot see why brothers are to make themselves disagreeable, +any more than sisters." + +"I don't make myself disagreeable; it is you who find me so. +Disagreeable is a word that describes your feelings and not my actions." + +"I think it describes the smell of grilled bone." + +"Not at all. It describes a sensation in your little nose associated +with certain finicking notions which are the classics of Mrs. Lemon's +school. Look at my mother you don't see her objecting to everything +except what she does herself. She is my notion of a pleasant woman." + +"Bless you both, my dears, and don't quarrel," said Mrs. Vincy, +with motherly cordiality. "Come, Fred, tell us all about the new doctor. +How is your uncle pleased with him?" + +"Pretty well, I think. He asks Lydgate all sorts of questions and +then screws up his face while he hears the answers, as if they were +pinching his toes. That's his way. Ah, here comes my grilled bone." + +"But how came you to stay out so late, my dear? You only said you +were going to your uncle's." + +"Oh, I dined at Plymdale's. We had whist. Lydgate was there too." + +"And what do you think of him? He is very gentlemanly, I suppose. +They say he is of excellent family--his relations quite county people." + +"Yes," said Fred. "There was a Lydgate at John's who spent +no end of money. I find this man is a second cousin of his. +But rich men may have very poor devils for second cousins." + +"It always makes a difference, though, to be of good family," +said Rosamond, with a tone of decision which showed that she had thought +on this subject. Rosamond felt that she might have been happier +if she had not been the daughter of a Middlemarch manufacturer. +She disliked anything which reminded her that her mother's father had +been an innkeeper. Certainly any one remembering the fact might think +that Mrs. Vincy had the air of a very handsome good-humored landlady, +accustomed to the most capricious orders of gentlemen. + +"I thought it was odd his name was Tertius," said the +bright-faced matron, "but of course it's a name in the family. +But now, tell us exactly what sort of man he is." + +"Oh, tallish, dark, clever--talks well--rather a prig, I think." + +"I never can make out what you mean by a prig," said Rosamond. + +"A fellow who wants to show that he has opinions." + +"Why, my dear, doctors must have opinions," said Mrs. Vincy. +"What are they there for else?" + +"Yes, mother, the opinions they are paid for. But a prig +is a fellow who is always making you a present of his opinions." + +"I suppose Mary Garth admires Mr. Lydgate," said Rosamond, +not without a touch of innuendo. + +"Really, I can't say." said Fred, rather glumly, as he left +the table, and taking up a novel which he had brought down with him, +threw himself into an arm-chair. "If you are jealous of her, +go oftener to Stone Court yourself and eclipse her." + +"I wish you would not be so vulgar, Fred. If you have finished, +pray ring the bell." + +"It is true, though--what your brother says, Rosamond," Mrs. Vincy began, +when the servant had cleared the table. "It is a thousand pities +you haven't patience to go and see your uncle more, so proud +of you as he is, and wanted you to live with him. There's no +knowing what he might have done for you as well as for Fred. +God knows, I'm fond of having you at home with me, but I can part +with my children for their good. And now it stands to reason +that your uncle Featherstone will do something for Mary Garth." + +"Mary Garth can bear being at Stone Court, because she likes that +better than being a governess," said Rosamond, folding up her work. +"I would rather not have anything left to me if I must earn it +by enduring much of my uncle's cough and his ugly relations." + +"He can't be long for this world, my dear; I wouldn't hasten his end, +but what with asthma and that inward complaint, let us hope there +is something better for him in another. And I have no ill-will +toward's Mary Garth, but there's justice to be thought of. +And Mr. Featherstone's first wife brought him no money, as my sister did. +Her nieces and nephews can't have so much claim as my sister's. +And I must say I think Mary Garth a dreadful plain girl--more fit +for a governess." + +"Every one would not agree with you there, mother," said Fred, +who seemed to be able to read and listen too. + +"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Vincy, wheeling skilfully, "if she +HAD some fortune left her,--a man marries his wife's relations, +and the Garths are so poor, and live in such a small way. +But I shall leave you to your studies, my dear; for I must go and do +some shopping." + +"Fred's studies are not very deep," said Rosamond, rising with +her mamma, "he is only reading a novel." + +"Well, well, by-and-by he'll go to his Latin and things," +said Mrs. Vincy, soothingly, stroking her son's head. "There's a +fire in the smoking-room on purpose. It's your father's wish, +you know--Fred, my dear--and I always tell him you will be good, +and go to college again to take your degree." + +Fred drew his mother's hand down to his lips, but said nothing. + +"I suppose you are not going out riding to-day?" said Rosamond, +lingering a little after her mamma was gone. + +"No; why?" + +"Papa says I may have the chestnut to ride now." + +"You can go with me to-morrow, if you like. Only I am going +to Stone Court, remember." + +"I want to ride so much, it is indifferent to me where we go." +Rosamond really wished to go to Stone Court, of all other places. + +"Oh, I say, Rosy," said Fred, as she was passing out of the room, +"if you are going to the piano, let me come and play some airs +with you." + +"Pray do not ask me this morning." + +"Why not this morning?" + +"Really, Fred, I wish you would leave off playing the flute. +A man looks very silly playing the flute. And you play so out +of tune." + +"When next any one makes love to you, Miss Rosamond, I will tell +him how obliging you are." + +"Why should you expect me to oblige you by hearing you play the flute, +any more than I should expect you to oblige me by not playing it?" + +"And why should you expect me to take you out riding?" + +This question led to an adjustment, for Rosamond had set her mind +on that particular ride. + +So Fred was gratified with nearly an hour's practice of "Ar hyd y nos," +"Ye banks and braes," and other favorite airs from his "Instructor +on the Flute;" a wheezy performance, into which he threw much +ambition and an irrepressible hopefulness. + +CHAPTER XII. + + "He had more tow on his distaffe + Than Gerveis knew." + --CHAUCER. + +The ride to Stone Court, which Fred and Rosamond took the next morning, +lay through a pretty bit of midland landscape, almost all meadows +and pastures, with hedgerows still allowed to grow in bushy beauty +and to spread out coral fruit for the birds. Little details gave +each field a particular physiognomy, dear to the eyes that have looked +on them from childhood: the pool in the corner where the grasses +were dank and trees leaned whisperingly; the great oak shadowing +a bare place in mid-pasture; the high bank where the ash-trees grew; +the sudden slope of the old marl-pit making a red background for +the burdock; the huddled roofs and ricks of the homestead without +a traceable way of approach; the gray gate and fences against +the depths of the bordering wood; and the stray hovel, its old, +old thatch full of mossy hills and valleys with wondrous modulations +of light and shadow such as we travel far to see in later life, +and see larger, but not more beautiful. These are the things +that make the gamut of joy in landscape to midland-bred souls--the +things they toddled among, or perhaps learned by heart standing +between their father's knees while he drove leisurely. + +But the road, even the byroad, was excellent; for Lowick, as we +have seen, was not a parish of muddy lanes and poor tenants; and it +was into Lowick parish that Fred and Rosamond entered after a couple +of miles' riding. Another mile would bring them to Stone Court, +and at the end of the first half, the house was already visible, +looking as if it had been arrested in its growth toward a stone +mansion by an unexpected budding of farm-buildings on its left flank, +which had hindered it from becoming anything more than the substantial +dwelling of a gentleman farmer. It was not the less agreeable +an object in the distance for the cluster of pinnacled corn-ricks +which balanced the fine row of walnuts on the right. + +Presently it was possible to discern something that might be a gig +on the circular drive before the front door. + +"Dear me," said Rosamond, "I hope none of my uncle's horrible +relations are there." + +"They are, though. That is Mrs. Waule's gig--the last yellow gig left, +I should think. When I see Mrs. Waule in it, I understand how yellow +can have been worn for mourning. That gig seems to me more funereal +than a hearse. But then Mrs. Waule always has black crape on. +How does she manage it, Rosy? Her friends can't always be dying." + +"I don't know at all. And she is not in the least evangelical," +said Rosamond, reflectively, as if that religious point of view +would have fully accounted for perpetual crape. "And, not poor," +she added, after a moment's pause. + +"No, by George! They are as rich as Jews, those Waules and Featherstones; +I mean, for people like them, who don't want to spend anything. +And yet they hang about my uncle like vultures, and are afraid +of a farthing going away from their side of the family. But I +believe he hates them all." + +The Mrs. Waule who was so far from being admirable in the eyes +of these distant connections, had happened to say this very morning +(not at all with a defiant air, but in a low, muffied, neutral tone, +as of a voice heard through cotton wool) that she did not wish "to +enjoy their good opinion." She was seated, as she observed, on her own +brother's hearth, and had been Jane Featherstone five-and-twenty years +before she had been Jane Waule, which entitled her to speak when her +own brother's name had been made free with by those who had no right to it. + +"What are you driving at there?" said Mr. Featherstone, +holding his stick between his knees and settling his wig, +while he gave her a momentary sharp glance, which seemed +to react on him like a draught of cold air and set him coughing. + +Mrs. Waule had to defer her answer till he was quiet again, +till Mary Garth had supplied him with fresh syrup, and he had begun +to rub the gold knob of his stick, looking bitterly at the fire. +It was a bright fire, but it made no difference to the chill-looking +purplish tint of Mrs. Waule's face, which was as neutral as her voice; +having mere chinks for eyes, and lips that hardly moved in speaking. + +"The doctors can't master that cough, brother. It's just like what I have; +for I'm your own sister, constitution and everything. But, as I +was saying, it's a pity Mrs. Vincy's family can't be better conducted." + +"Tchah! you said nothing o' the sort. You said somebody had made +free with my name." + +"And no more than can be proved, if what everybody says is true. +My brother Solomon tells me it's the talk up and down in Middlemarch +how unsteady young Vincy is, and has been forever gambling at +billiards since home he came." + +"Nonsense! What's a game at billiards? It's a good gentlemanly game; +and young Vincy is not a clodhopper. If your son John took +to billiards, now, he'd make a fool of himself." + +"Your nephew John never took to billiards or any other game, brother, +and is far from losing hundreds of pounds, which, if what everybody +says is true, must be found somewhere else than out of Mr. Vincy +the father's pocket. For they say he's been losing money for years, +though nobody would think so, to see him go coursing and keeping open +house as they do. And I've heard say Mr. Bulstrode condemns Mrs. Vincy +beyond anything for her flightiness, and spoiling her children so."! + +"What's Bulstrode to me? I don't bank with him." + +"Well, Mrs. Bulstrode is Mr. Vincy's own sister, and they do say that +Mr. Vincy mostly trades on the Bank money; and you may see yourself, +brother, when a woman past forty has pink strings always flying, +and that light way of laughing at everything, it's very unbecoming. +But indulging your children is one thing, and finding money to pay +their debts is another. And it's openly said that young Vincy has +raised money on his expectations. I don't say what expectations. +Miss Garth hears me, and is welcome to tell again. I know young +people hang together." + +"No, thank you, Mrs. Waule," said Mary Garth. "I dislike hearing +scandal too much to wish to repeat it." + +Mr. Featherstone rubbed the knob of his stick and made a brief +convulsive show of laughter, which had much the same genuineness +as an old whist-player's chuckle over a bad hand. Still looking +at the fire, he said-- + +"And who pretends to say Fred Vincy hasn't got expectations? Such +a fine, spirited fellow is like enough to have 'em." + +There was a slight pause before Mrs. Waule replied, and when she +did so, her voice seemed to be slightly moistened with tears, +though her face was still dry. + +"Whether or no, brother, it is naturally painful to me and my brother +Solomon to hear your name made free with, and your complaint being such +as may carry you off sudden, and people who are no more Featherstones +than the Merry-Andrew at the fair, openly reckoning on your property +coming to THEM. And me your own sister, and Solomon your own +brother! And if that's to be it, what has it pleased the Almighty +to make families for?" Here Mrs. Waule's tears fell, but with moderation. + +"Come, out with it, Jane!" said Mr. Featherstone, looking at her. +"You mean to say, Fred Vincy has been getting somebody to advance him +money on what he says he knows about my will, eh?" + +"I never said so, brother" (Mrs. Waule's voice had again become dry +and unshaken). "It was told me by my brother Solomon last night when +he called coming from market to give me advice about the old wheat, +me being a widow, and my son John only three-and-twenty, though steady +beyond anything. And he had it from most undeniable authority, +and not one, but many." + +"Stuff and nonsense! I don't believe a word of it. It's all a +got-up story. Go to the window, missy; I thought I heard a horse. +See if the doctor's coming." + +"Not got up by me, brother, nor yet by Solomon, who, whatever else he +may be--and I don't deny he has oddities--has made his will and parted +his property equal between such kin as he's friends with; though, +for my part, I think there are times when some should be considered +more than others. But Solomon makes it no secret what he means to do." + +"The more fool he!" said Mr. Featherstone, with some difficulty; +breaking into a severe fit of coughing that required Mary Garth +to stand near him, so that she did not find out whose horses they +were which presently paused stamping on the gravel before the door. + +Before Mr. Featherstone's cough was quiet, Rosamond entered, +bearing up her riding-habit with much grace. She bowed ceremoniously +to Mrs. Waule, who said stiffly, "How do you do, miss?" smiled and +nodded silently to Mary, and remained standing till the coughing +should cease, and allow her uncle to notice her. + +"Heyday, miss!" he said at last, "you have a fine color. +Where's Fred?" + +"Seeing about the horses. He will be in presently." + +"Sit down, sit down. Mrs. Waule, you'd better go." + +Even those neighbors who had called Peter Featherstone an old fox, +had never accused him of being insincerely polite, and his sister +was quite used to the peculiar absence of ceremony with which he +marked his sense of blood-relationship. Indeed, she herself was +accustomed to think that entire freedom from the necessity of behaving +agreeably was included in the Almighty's intentions about families. +She rose slowly without any sign of resentment, and said in her +usual muffled monotone, "Brother, I hope the new doctor will be +able to do something for you. Solomon says there's great talk +of his cleverness. I'm sure it's my wish you should be spared. +And there's none more ready to nurse you than your own sister +and your own nieces, if you'd only say the word. There's Rebecca, +and Joanna, and Elizabeth, you know." + +"Ay, ay, I remember--you'll see I've remembered 'em all--all +dark and ugly. They'd need have some money, eh? There never was +any beauty in the women of our family; but the Featherstones have +always had some money, and the Waules too. Waule had money too. +A warm man was Waule. Ay, ay; money's a good egg; and if you +'ve got money to leave behind you, lay it in a warm nest. +Good-by, Mrs. Waule." Here Mr. Featherstone pulled at both sides +of his wig as if he wanted to deafen himself, and his sister went +away ruminating on this oracular speech of his. Notwithstanding her +jealousy of the Vincys and of Mary Garth, there remained as the +nethermost sediment in her mental shallows a persuasion that her +brother Peter Featherstone could never leave his chief property +away from his blood-relations:--else, why had the Almighty carried +off his two wives both childless, after he had gained so much +by manganese and things, turning up when nobody expected it?--and +why was there a Lowick parish church, and the Waules and Powderells +all sit ting in the same pew for generations, and the Featherstone +pew next to them, if, the Sunday after her brother Peter's death, +everybody was to know that the property was gone out of the +family? The human mind has at no period accepted a moral chaos; +and so preposterous a result was not strictly conceivable. +But we are frightened at much that is not strictly conceivable. + +When Fred came in the old man eyed him with a peculiar twinkle, +which the younger had often had reason to interpret as pride in the +satisfactory details of his appearance. + +"You two misses go away," said Mr. Featherstone. "I want to speak +to Fred." + +"Come into my room, Rosamond, you will not mind the cold for a +little while," said Mary. The two girls had not only known each +other in childhood, but had been at the same provincial school +together (Mary as an articled pupil), so that they had many memories +in common, and liked very well to talk in private. Indeed, this +tete-a-tete was one of Rosamond's objects in coming to Stone Court. + +Old Featherstone would not begin the dialogue till the door had +been closed. He continued to look at Fred with the same twinkle +and with one of his habitual grimaces, alternately screwing +and widening his mouth; and when he spoke, it was in a low tone, +which might be taken for that of an informer ready to be bought off, +rather than for the tone of an offended senior. He was not a man +to feel any strong moral indignation even on account of trespasses +against himself. It was natural that others should want to get +an advantage over him, but then, he was a little too cunning for them. + +"So, sir, you've been paying ten per cent for money which you've +promised to pay off by mortgaging my land when I'm dead and gone, +eh? You put my life at a twelvemonth, say. But I can alter my +will yet." + +Fred blushed. He had not borrowed money in that way, for excellent +reasons. But he was conscious of having spoken with some confidence +(perhaps with more than he exactly remembered) about his prospect +of getting Featherstone's land as a future means of paying present debts. + +"I don't know what you refer to, sir. I have certainly never +borrowed any money on such an insecurity. Please to explain." + +"No, sir, it's you must explain. I can alter my will yet, let me +tell you. I'm of sound mind--can reckon compound interest in my head, +and remember every fool's name as well as I could twenty years ago. +What the deuce? I'm under eighty. I say, you must contradict +this story." + +"I have contradicted it, sir," Fred answered, with a touch +of impatience, not remembering that his uncle did not verbally +discriminate contradicting from disproving, though no one was further +from confounding the two ideas than old Featherstone, who often +wondered that so many fools took his own assertions for proofs. +"But I contradict it again. The story is a silly lie." + +"Nonsense! you must bring dockiments. It comes from authority." + +"Name the authority, and make him name the man of whom I borrowed +the money, and then I can disprove the story." + +"It's pretty good authority, I think--a man who knows most +of what goes on in Middlemarch. It's that fine, religious, +charitable uncle o' yours. Come now!" Here Mr. Featherstone +had his peculiar inward shake which signified merriment. + +"Mr. Bulstrode?" + +"Who else, eh?" + +"Then the story has grown into this lie out of some sermonizing +words he may have let fall about me. Do they pretend that he named +the man who lent me the money?" + +"If there is such a man, depend upon it Bulstrode knows him. +But, supposing you only tried to get the money lent, and didn't +get it--Bulstrode 'ud know that too. You bring me a writing +from Bulstrode to say he doesn't believe you've ever promised +to pay your debts out o' my land. Come now!" + +Mr. Featherstone's face required its whole scale of grimaces as a +muscular outlet to his silent triumph in the soundness of his faculties. + +Fred felt himself to be in a disgusting dilemma. + +"You must be joking, sir. Mr. Bulstrode, like other men, believes scores +of things that are not true, and he has a prejudice against me. +I could easily get him to write that he knew no facts in proof +of the report you speak of, though it might lead to unpleasantness. +But I could hardly ask him to write down what he believes or does +not believe about me." Fred paused an instant, and then added, +in politic appeal to his uncle's vanity, "That is hardly a thing +for a gentleman to ask." But he was disappointed in the result. + +"Ay, I know what you mean. You'd sooner offend me than Bulstrode. +And what's he?--he's got no land hereabout that ever I heard tell of. +A speckilating fellow! He may come down any day, when the devil +leaves off backing him. And that's what his religion means: he +wants God A'mighty to come in. That's nonsense! There's one +thing I made out pretty clear when I used to go to church--and +it's this: God A'mighty sticks to the land. He promises land, +and He gives land, and He makes chaps rich with corn and cattle. +But you take the other side. You like Bulstrode and speckilation +better than Featherstone and land." + +"I beg your pardon, sir," said Fred, rising, standing with his +back to the fire and beating his boot with his whip. "I like +neither Bulstrode nor speculation." He spoke rather sulkily, +feeling himself stalemated. + +"Well, well, you can do without me, that's pretty clear," +said old Featherstone, secretly disliking the possibility that Fred +would show himself at all independent. "You neither want a bit +of land to make a squire of you instead of a starving parson, +nor a lift of a hundred pound by the way. It's all one to me. +I can make five codicils if I like, and I shall keep my bank-notes +for a nest-egg. It's all one to me." + +Fred colored again. Featherstone had rarely given him presents +of money, and at this moment it seemed almost harder to part with +the immediate prospect of bank-notes than with the more distant +prospect of the land. + +"I am not ungrateful, sir. I never meant to show disregard for +any kind intentions you might have towards me. On the contrary." + +"Very good. Then prove it. You bring me a letter from Bulstrode +saying he doesn't believe you've been cracking and promising +to pay your debts out o' my land, and then, if there's any +scrape you've got into, we'll see if I can't back you a bit. +Come now! That's a bargain. Here, give me your arm. I'll try +and walk round the room." + +Fred, in spite of his irritation, had kindness enough in him to be +a little sorry for the unloved, unvenerated old man, who with his +dropsical legs looked more than usually pitiable in walking. +While giving his arm, he thought that he should not himself +like to be an old fellow with his constitution breaking up; +and he waited good-temperedly, first before the window to hear +the wonted remarks about the guinea-fowls and the weather-cock, +and then before the scanty book-shelves, of which the chief glories +in dark calf were Josephus, Culpepper, Klopstock's "Messiah," +and several volumes of the "Gentleman's Magazine." + +"Read me the names o' the books. Come now! you're a college man." + +Fred gave him the titles. + +"What did missy want with more books? What must you be bringing +her more books for?" + +"They amuse her, sir. She is very fond of reading." + +"A little too fond," said Mr. Featherstone, captiously. "She was +for reading when she sat with me. But I put a stop to that. +She's got the newspaper to read out loud. That's enough for one day, +I should think. I can't abide to see her reading to herself. +You mind and not bring her any more books, do you hear?" + +"Yes, sir, I hear." Fred had received this order before, and had +secretly disobeyed it. He intended to disobey it again. + +"Ring the bell," said Mr. Featherstone; "I want missy to come down." + +Rosamond and Mary had been talking faster than their male friends. +They did not think of sitting down, but stood at the toilet-table +near the window while Rosamond took off her hat, adjusted her veil, +and applied little touches of her finger-tips to her hair--hair +of infantine fairness, neither flaxen nor yellow. Mary Garth +seemed all the plainer standing at an angle between the two +nymphs--the one in the glass, and the one out of it, who looked +at each other with eyes of heavenly blue, deep enough to hold the +most exquisite meanings an ingenious beholder could put into them, +and deep enough to hide the meanings of the owner if these should +happen to be less exquisite. Only a few children in Middlemarch +looked blond by the side of Rosamond, and the slim figure displayed +by her riding-habit had delicate undulations. In fact, most men +in Middlemarch, except her brothers, held that Miss Vincy was the +best girl in the world, and some called her an angel. Mary Garth, +on the contrary, had the aspect of an ordinary sinner: she was brown; +her curly dark hair was rough and stubborn; her stature was low; +and it would not be true to declare, in satisfactory antithesis, +that she had all the virtues. Plainness has its peculiar +temptations and vices quite as much as beauty; it is apt either to +feign amiability, or, not feigning it, to show all the repulsive ness +of discontent: at any rate, to be called an ugly thing in contrast +with that lovely creature your companion, is apt to produce some +effect beyond a sense of fine veracity and fitness in the phrase. +At the age of two-and-twenty Mary had certainly not attained that +perfect good sense and good principle which are usually recommended +to the less fortunate girl, as if they were to be obtained in +quantities ready mixed, with a flavor of resignation as required. +Her shrewdness had a streak of satiric bitterness continually +renewed and never carried utterly out of sight, except by a strong +current of gratitude towards those who, instead of telling her +that she ought to be contented, did something to make her so. +Advancing womanhood had tempered her plainness, which was of a good +human sort, such as the mothers of our race have very commonly +worn in all latitudes under a more or less becoming headgear. +Rembrandt would have painted her with pleasure, and would have made +her broad features look out of the canvas with intelligent honesty. +For honesty, truth-telling fairness, was Mary's reigning virtue: +she neither tried to create illusions, nor indulged in them for her +own behoof, and when she was in a good mood she had humor enough +in her to laugh at herself. When she and Rosamond happened both to be +reflected in the glass, she said, laughingly-- + +"What a brown patch I am by the side of you, Rosy! You are +the most unbecoming companion." + +"Oh no! No one thinks of your appearance, you are so sensible +and useful, Mary. Beauty is of very little consequence in reality," +said Rosamond, turning her head towards Mary, but with eyes swerving +towards the new view of her neck in the glass. + +"You mean my beauty," said Mary, rather sardonically. + +Rosamond thought, "Poor Mary, she takes the kindest things ill." +Aloud she said, "What have you been doing lately?" + +"I? Oh, minding the house--pouring out syrup--pretending to be +amiable and contented--learning to have a bad opinion of everybody." + +"It is a wretched life for you." + +"No," said Mary, curtly, with a little toss of her head. "I think +my life is pleasanter than your Miss Morgan's." + +"Yes; but Miss Morgan is so uninteresting, and not young." + +"She is interesting to herself, I suppose; and I am not at all sure +that everything gets easier as one gets older." + +"No," said Rosamond, reflectively; "one wonders what such people do, +without any prospect. To be sure, there is religion as a support. +But," she added, dimpling, "it is very different with you,'Mary. +You may have an offer." + +"Has any one told you he means to make me one?" + +"Of course not. I mean, there is a gentleman who may fall in love +with you, seeing you almost every day." + +A certain change in Mary's face was chiefly determined by the resolve +not to show any change. + +"Does that always make people fall in love?" she answered, carelessly; +"it seems to me quite as often a reason for detesting each other." + +"Not when they are interesting and agreeable. I hear that Mr. Lydgate +is both." + +"Oh, Mr. Lydgate!" said Mary, with an unmistakable lapse +into indifference. "You want to know something about him," +she added, not choosing to indulge Rosamond's indirectness. + +"Merely, how you like him." + +"There is no question of liking at present. My liking always wants +some little kindness to kindle it. I am not magnanimous enough +to like people who speak to me without seeming to see me." + +"Is he so haughty?" said Rosamond, with heightened satisfaction. +"You know that he is of good family?" + +"No; he did not give that as a reason." + +"Mary! you are the oddest girl. But what sort of looking man +is he? Describe him to me." + +"How can one describe a man? I can give you an inventory: heavy eyebrows, +dark eyes, a straight nose, thick dark hair, large solid white +hands--and--let me see--oh, an exquisite cambric pocket-handkerchief. +But you will see him. You know this is about the time of his visits." + +Rosamond blushed a little, but said, meditatively, "I rather +like a haughty manner. I cannot endure a rattling young man." + +"I did not tell you that Mr. Lydgate was haughty; but il y en +a pour tous les gouts, as little Mamselle used to say, and if any +girl can choose the particular sort of conceit she would like, +I should think it is you, Rosy." + +"Haughtiness is not conceit; I call Fred conceited." + +"I wish no one said any worse of him. He should be more careful. +Mrs. Waule has been telling uncle that Fred is very unsteady." +Mary spoke from a girlish impulse which got the better of her judgment. +There was a vague uneasiness associated with the word "unsteady" +which she hoped Rosamond might say something to dissipate. +But she purposely abstained from mentioning Mrs. Waule's more +special insinuation. + +"Oh, Fred is horrid!" said Rosamond. She would not have allowed +herself so unsuitable a word to any one but Mary. + +"What do you mean by horrid?" + +"He is so idle, and makes papa so angry, and says he will not +take orders." + +"I think Fred is quite right." + +"How can you say he is quite right, Mary? I thought you had more +sense of religion." + +"He is not fit to be a clergyman." + +"But he ought to be fit."--"Well, then, he is not what he ought to be. +I know some other people who are in the same case." + +"But no one approves of them. I should not like to marry a clergyman; +but there must be clergymen." + +"It does not follow that Fred must be one." + +"But when papa has been at the expense of educating him for it! +And only suppose, if he should have no fortune left him?" + +"I can suppose that very well," said Mary, dryly. + +"Then I wonder you can defend Fred," said Rosamond, inclined to push +this point. + +"I don't defend him," said Mary, laughing; "I would defend any +parish from having him for a clergyman." + +"But of course if he were a clergyman, he must be different." + +"Yes, he would be a great hypocrite; and he is not that yet." + +"It is of no use saying anything to you, Mary. You always take +Fred's part." + +"Why should I not take his part?" said Mary, lighting up. +"He would take mine. He is the only person who takes the least +trouble to oblige me." + +"You make me feel very uncomfortable, Mary," said Rosamond, +with her gravest mildness; "I would not tell mamma for the world." + +"What would you not tell her?" said Mary, angrily. + +"Pray do not go into a rage, Mary," said Rosamond, mildly as ever. + +"If your mamma is afraid that Fred will make me an offer, tell her +that I would not marry him if he asked me. But he is not going +to do so, that I am aware. He certainly never has asked me." + +"Mary, you are always so violent." + +"And you are always so exasperating." + +"I? What can you blame me for?" + +"Oh, blameless people are always the most exasperating. There is +the bell--I think we must go down." + +"I did not mean to quarrel," said Rosamond, putting on her hat. + +"Quarrel? Nonsense; we have not quarrelled. If one is not to get +into a rage sometimes, what is the good of being friends?" + +"Am I to repeat what you have said?" "Just as you please. I never +say what I am afraid of having repeated. But let us go down." + +Mr. Lydgate was rather late this morning, but the visitors stayed long +enough to see him; for Mr. Featherstone asked Rosamond to sing to him, +and she herself was-so kind as to propose a second favorite song +of his--"Flow on, thou shining river"--after she had sung "Home, +sweet home" (which she detested). This hard-headed old Overreach +approved of the sentimental song, as the suitable garnish for girls, +and also as fundamentally fine, sentiment being the right thing +for a song. + +Mr. Featherstone was still applauding the last performance, +and assuring missy that her voice was as clear as a blackbird's, +when Mr. Lydgate's horse passed the window. + +His dull expectation of the usual disagreeable routine with an aged +patient--who can hardly believe that medicine would not "set him up" +if the doctor were only clever enough--added to his general disbelief +in Middlemarch charms, made a doubly effective background to this +vision of Rosamond, whom old Featherstone made haste ostentatiously +to introduce as his niece, though he had never thought it worth +while to speak of Mary Garth in that light. Nothing escaped +Lydgate in Rosamond's graceful behavior: how delicately she waived +the notice which the old man's want of taste had thrust upon her +by a quiet gravity, not showing her dimples on the wrong occasion, +but showing them afterwards in speaking to Mary, to whom she +addressed herself with so much good-natured interest, that Lydgate, +after quickly examining Mary more fully than he had done before, +saw an adorable kindness in Rosamond's eyes. But Mary from some +cause looked rather out of temper. + +"Miss Rosy has been singing me a song--you've nothing to say +against that, eh, doctor?" said Mr. Featherstone. "I like it +better than your physic." + +"That has made me forget how the time was going," said Rosamond, +rising to reach her hat, which she had laid aside before singing, +so that her flower-like head on its white stem was seen in perfection +above-her riding-habit. "Fred, we must really go." + +"Very good," said Fred, who had his own reasons for not being +in the best spirits, and wanted to get away. + +"Miss Vincy is a musician?" said Lydgate, following her with his eyes. +(Every nerve and muscle in Rosamond was adjusted to the consciousness +that she was being looked at. She was by nature an actress of parts +that entered into her physique: she even acted her own character, +and so well, that she did not know it to be precisely her own.) + +"The best in Middlemarch, I'll be bound," said Mr. Featherstone, +"let the next be who she will. Eh, Fred? Speak up for your sister." + +"I'm afraid I'm out of court, sir. My evidence would be good +for nothing." + +"Middlemarch has not a very high standard, uncle," said Rosamond, +with a pretty lightness, going towards her whip, which lay at +a distance. + +Lydgate was quick in anticipating her. He reached the whip +before she did, and turned to present it to her. She bowed +and looked at him: he of course was looking at her, and their +eyes met with that peculiar meeting which is never arrived at +by effort, but seems like a sudden divine clearance of haze. +I think Lydgate turned a little paler than usual, but Rosamond +blushed deeply and felt a certain astonishment. After that, +she was really anxious to go, and did not know what sort of stupidity +her uncle was talking of when she went to shake hands with him. + +Yet this result, which she took to be a mutual impression, called +falling in love, was just what Rosamond had contemplated beforehand. +Ever since that important new arrival in Middlemarch she had +woven a little future, of which something like this scene was +the necessary beginning. Strangers, whether wrecked and clinging +to a raft, or duly escorted and accompanied by portmanteaus, +have always had a circumstantial fascination for the virgin mind, +against which native merit has urged itself in vain. And a stranger +was absolutely necessary to Rosamond's social romance, which had +always turned on a lover and bridegroom who was not a Middlemarcher, +and who had no connections at all like her own: of late, indeed, +the construction seemed to demand that he should somehow be +related to a baronet. Now that she and the stranger had met, +reality proved much more moving than anticipation, and Rosamond +could not doubt that this was the great epoch of her life. +She judged of her own symptoms as those of awakening love, and she +held it still more natural that Mr. Lydgate should have fallen +in love at first sight of her. These things happened so often +at balls, and why not by the morning light, when the complexion +showed all the better for it? Rosamond, though no older than Mary, +was rather used to being fallen in love with; but she, for her part, +had remained indifferent and fastidiously critical towards both +fresh sprig and faded bachelor. And here was Mr. Lydgate suddenly +corresponding to her ideal, being altogether foreign to Middlemarch, +carrying a certain air of distinction congruous with good family, +and possessing connections which offered vistas of that middle-class heaven, +rank: a man of talent, also, whom it would be especially delightful +to enslave: in fact, a man who had touched her nature quite newly, +and brought a vivid interest into her life which was better than +any fancied "might-be" such as she was in the habit of opposing to the actual. + +Thus, in riding home, both the brother and the sister were preoccupied +and inclined to be silent. Rosamond, whose basis for her structure +had the usual airy slightness, was of remarkably detailed and +realistic imagination when the foundation had been once presupposed; +and before they had ridden a mile she was far on in the costume +and introductions of her wedded life, having determined on her +house in Middle-march, and foreseen the visits she would pay +to her husband's high-bred relatives at a distance, whose finished +manners she could appropriate as thoroughly as she had done +her school accomplishments, preparing herself thus for vaguer +elevations which might ultimately come. There was nothing financial, +still less sordid, in her previsions: she cared about what were +considered refinements, and not about the money that was to pay for them. + +Fred's mind, on the other hand, was busy with an anxiety which +even his ready hopefulness could not immediately quell. He saw +no way of eluding Featherstone's stupid demand without incurring +consequences which he liked less even than the task of fulfilling it. +His father was already out of humor with him, and would be still +more so if he were the occasion of any additional coolness between +his own family and the Bulstrodes. Then, he himself hated having +to go and speak to his uncle Bulstrode, and perhaps after drinking +wine he had said many foolish things about Featherstone's property, +and these had been magnified by report. Fred felt that he made +a wretched figure as a fellow who bragged about expectations from +a queer old miser like Featherstone, and went to beg for certificates +at his bidding. But--those expectations! He really had them, +and he saw no agreeable alternative if he gave them up; besides, +he had lately made a debt which galled him extremely, and old +Featherstone had almost bargained to pay it off. The whole affair +was miserably small: his debts were small, even his expectations +were not anything so very magnificent. Fred had known men to whom he +would have been ashamed of confessing the smallness of his scrapes. +Such ruminations naturally produced a streak of misanthropic bitterness. +To be born the son of a Middlemarch manufacturer, and inevitable +heir to nothing in particular, while such men as Mainwaring and +Vyan--certainly life was a poor business, when a spirited young fellow, +with a good appetite for the best of everything, had so poor an outlook. + +It had not occurred to Fred that the introduction of Bulstrode's name +in the matter was a fiction of old Featherstone's; nor could this +have made any difference to his position. He saw plainly enough +that the old man wanted to exercise his power by tormenting him +a little, and also probably to get some satisfaction out of seeing +him on unpleasant terms with Bulstrode. Fred fancied that he saw +to the bottom of his uncle Featherstone's soul, though in reality half +what he saw there was no more than the reflex of his own inclinations. +The difficult task of knowing another soul is not for young +gentlemen whose consciousness is chiefly made up of their own wishes. + +Fred's main point of debate with himself was, whether he should tell +his father, or try to get through the affair without his father's +knowledge. It was probably Mrs. Waule who had been talking about him; +and if Mary Garth had repeated Mrs. Waule's report to Rosamond, +it would be sure to reach his father, who would as surely question +him about it. He said to Rosamond, as they slackened their pace-- + +"Rosy, did Mary tell you that Mrs. Waule had said anything about me?" + +"Yes, indeed, she did." + +"What?" + +"That you were very unsteady." + +"Was that all?" + +"I should think that was enough, Fred." + +"You are sure she said no more?" + +"Mary mentioned nothing else. But really, Fred, I think you ought +to be ashamed." + +"Oh, fudge! Don't lecture me. What did Mary say about it?" + +"I am not obliged to tell you. You care so very much what Mary says, +and you are too rude to allow me to speak." + +"Of course I care what Mary says. She is the best girl I know." + +"I should never have thought she was a girl to fall in love with." + +"How do you know what men would fall in love with? Girls never know." + +"At least, Fred, let me advise YOU not to fall in love with her, +for she says she would not marry you if you asked her." + +"She might have waited till I did ask her." + +"I knew it would nettle you, Fred." + +"Not at all. She would not have said so if you had not provoked her." +Before reaching home, Fred concluded that he would tell the whole +affair as simply as possible to his father, who might perhaps take +on himself the unpleasant business of speaking to Bulstrode. + +BOOK II. + +OLD AND YOUNG. + +CHAPTER XIII. + + 1st Gent. How class your man?--as better than the most, + Or, seeming better, worse beneath that cloak? + As saint or knave, pilgrim or hypocrite? + 2d Gent. Nay, tell me how you class your wealth of books + The drifted relics of all time. + As well sort them at once by size and livery: + Vellum, tall copies, and the common calf + Will hardly cover more diversity + Than all your labels cunningly devised + To class your unread authors. + +In consequence of what he had heard from Fred, Mr. Vincy determined +to speak with Mr. Bulstrode in his private room at the Bank +at half-past one, when he was usually free from other callers. +But a visitor had come in at one o'clock, and Mr. Bulstrode had so +much to say to him, that there was little chance of the interview +being over in half an hour. The banker's speech was fluent, +but it was also copious, and he used up an appreciable amount +of time in brief meditative pauses. Do not imagine his sickly +aspect to have been of the yellow, black-haired sort: he had a pale +blond skin, thin gray-besprinkled brown hair, light-gray eyes, +and a large forehead. Loud men called his subdued tone an undertone, +and sometimes implied that it was inconsistent with openness; +though there seems to be no reason why a loud man should not be given +to concealment of anything except his own voice, unless it can be +shown that Holy Writ has placed the seat of candor in the lungs. +Mr. Bulstrode had also a deferential bending attitude in listening, +and an apparently fixed attentiveness in his eyes which made those +persons who thought themselves worth hearing infer that he was seeking +the utmost improvement from their discourse. Others, who expected +to make no great figure, disliked this kind of moral lantern turned +on them. If you are not proud of your cellar, there is no thrill of +satisfaction in seeing your guest hold up his wine-glass to the light +and look judicial. Such joys are reserved for conscious merit. +Hence Mr. Bulstrode's close attention was not agreeable to the +publicans and sinners in Middlemarch; it was attributed by some +to his being a Pharisee, and by others to his being Evangelical. +Less superficial reasoners among them wished to know who his father +and grandfather were, observing that five-and-twenty years ago nobody +had ever heard of a Bulstrode in Middlemarch. To his present visitor, +Lydgate, the scrutinizing look was a matter of indifference: +he simply formed an unfavorable opinion of the banker's constitution, +and concluded that he had an eager inward life with little enjoyment +of tangible things. + +"I shall be exceedingly obliged if you will look in on me here +occasionally, Mr. Lydgate," the banker observed, after a brief pause. +"If, as I dare to hope, I have the privilege of finding you a +valuable coadjutor in the interesting matter of hospital management, +there will be many questions which we shall need to discuss +in private. As to the new hospital, which is nearly finished, +I shall consider what you have said about the advantages of the special +destination for fevers. The decision will rest with me, for though +Lord Medlicote has given the land and timber for the building, +he is not disposed to give his personal attention to the object." + +"There are few things better worth the pains in a provincial town +like this," said Lydgate. "A fine fever hospital in addition +to the old infirmary might be the nucleus of a medical school here, +when once we get our medical reforms; and what would do more for +medical education than the spread of such schools over the country? +A born provincial man who has a grain of public spirit as well as a +few ideas, should do what he can to resist the rush of everything +that is a little better than common towards London. Any valid +professional aims may often find a freer, if not a richer field, +in the provinces." + +One of Lydgate's gifts was a voice habitually deep and sonorous, +yet capable of becoming very low and gentle at the right moment. +About his ordinary bearing there was a certain fling, a fearless +expectation of success, a confidence in his own powers and integrity +much fortified by contempt for petty obstacles or seductions of which +he had had no experience. But this proud openness was made lovable +by an expression of unaffected good-will. Mr. Bulstrode perhaps liked +him the better for the difference between them in pitch and manners; +he certainly liked him the better, as Rosamond did, for being a stranger +in Middlemarch. One can begin so many things with a new person!-- +even begin to be a better man. + +"I shall rejoice to furnish your zeal with fuller opportunities," +Mr. Bulstrode answered; "I mean, by confiding to you the superintendence +of my new hospital, should a maturer knowledge favor that issue, +for I am determined that so great an object shall not be shackled +by our two physicians. Indeed, I am encouraged to consider your +advent to this town as a gracious indication that a more manifest +blessing is now to be awarded to my efforts, which have hitherto +been much with stood. With regard to the old infirmary, we have +gained the initial point--I mean your election. And now I hope +you will not shrink from incurring a certain amount of jealousy +and dislike from your professional brethren by presenting yourself +as a reformer." + +"I will not profess bravery," said Lydgate, smiling, "but I +acknowledge a good deal of pleasure in fighting, and I should not +care for my profession, if I did not believe that better methods +were to be found and enforced there as well as everywhere else." + +"The standard of that profession is low in Middlemarch, my dear sir," +said the banker. "I mean in knowledge and skill; not in social status, +for our medical men are most of them connected with respectable +townspeople here. My own imperfect health has induced me to give +some attention to those palliative resources which the divine +mercy has placed within our reach. I have consulted eminent men +in the metropolis, and I am painfully aware of the backwardness +under which medical treatment labors in our provincial districts." + +"Yes;--with our present medical rules and education, one must +be satisfied now and then to meet with a fair practitioner. +As to all the higher questions which determine the starting-point +of a diagnosis--as to the philosophy of medial evidence--any glimmering +of these can only come from a scientific culture of which country +practitioners have usually no more notion than the man in the moon." + +Mr. Bulstrode, bending and looking intently, found the form +which Lydgate had given to his agreement not quite suited to +his comprehension. Under such circumstances a judicious man changes +the topic and enters on ground where his own gifts may be more useful. + +"I am aware," he said, "that the peculiar bias of medical +ability is towards material means. Nevertheless, Mr. Lydgate, +I hope we shall not vary in sentiment as to a measure in which +you are not likely to be actively concerned, but in which your +sympathetic concurrence may be an aid to me. You recognize, +I hope; the existence of spiritual interests in your patients?" + +"Certainly I do. But those words are apt to cover different +meanings to different minds." + +"Precisely. And on such subjects wrong teaching is as fatal as +no teaching. Now a point which I have much at heart to secure is +a new regulation as to clerical attendance at the old infirmary. +The building stands in Mr. Farebrother's parish. You know +Mr. Farebrother?" + +"I have seen him. He gave me his vote. I must call to thank him. +He seems a very bright pleasant little fellow. And I understand he +is a naturalist." + +"Mr. Farebrother, my dear sir, is a man deeply painful to contemplate. +I suppose there is not a clergyman in this country who has +greater talents." Mr. Bulstrode paused and looked meditative. + +"I have not yet been pained by finding any excessive talent +in Middlemarch," said Lydgate, bluntly. + +"What I desire," Mr. Bulstrode continued, looking still more serious, +"is that Mr. Farebrother's attendance at the hospital should be +superseded by the appointment of a chaplain--of Mr. Tyke, in fact-- +and that no other spiritual aid should be called in." + +"As a medial man I could have no opinion on such a point unless I knew +Mr. Tyke, and even then I should require to know the cases in which +he was applied." Lydgate smiled, but he was bent on being circumspect. + +"Of course you cannot enter fully into the merits of this measure +at present. But"--here Mr. Bulstrode began to speak with a more +chiselled emphasis--"the subject is likely to be referred to +the medical board of the infirmary, and what I trust I may ask +of you is, that in virtue of the cooperation between us which I +now look forward to, you will not, so far as you are concerned, +be influenced by my opponents in this matter." + +"I hope I shall have nothing to do with clerical disputes," said Lydgate. +"The path I have chosen is to work well in my own profession." + +"My responsibility, Mr. Lydgate, is of a broader kind. +With me, indeed, this question is one of sacred accountableness; +whereas with my opponents, I have good reason to say that it +is an occasion for gratifying a spirit of worldly opposition. +But I shall not therefore drop one iota of my convictions, or cease +to identify myself with that truth which an evil generation hates. +I have devoted myself to this object of hospital-improvement, but I +will boldly confess to you, Mr. Lydgate, that I should have no interest +in hospitals if I believed that nothing more was concerned therein +than the cure of mortal diseases. I have another ground of action, +and in the face of persecution I will not conceal it." + +Mr. Bulstrode's voice had become a loud and agitated whisper as he +said the last words. + +"There we certainly differ," said Lydgate. But he was not sorry +that the door was now opened, and Mr. Vincy was announced. +That florid sociable personage was become more interesting to him +since he had seen Rosamond. Not that, like her, he had been weaving +any future in which their lots were united; but a man naturally +remembers a charming girl with pleasure, and is willing to dine +where he may see her again. Before he took leave, Mr. Vincy +had given that invitation which he had been "in no hurry about," +for Rosamond at breakfast had mentioned that she thought her uncle +Featherstone had taken the new doctor into great favor. + +Mr. Bulstrode, alone with his brother-in-law, poured himself out +a glass of water, and opened a sandwich-box. + +"I cannot persuade you to adopt my regimen, Vincy?" + +"No, no; I've no opinion of that system. Life wants padding," +said Mr. Vincy, unable to omit his portable theory. "However," he +went on, accenting the word, as if to dismiss all irrelevance, +"what I came here to talk about was a little affair of my +young scapegrace, Fred's." + +"That is a subject on which you and I are likely to take quite +as different views as on diet, Vincy." + +"I hope not this time." (Mr. Vincy was resolved to be good-humored.) +"The fact is, it's about a whim of old Featherstone's. Somebody has +been cooking up a story out of spite, and telling it to the old man, +to try to set him against Fred. He's very fond of Fred, and is +likely to do something handsome for him; indeed he has as good +as told Fred that he means to leave him his land, and that makes +other people jealous." + +"Vincy, I must repeat, that you will not get any concurrence from +me as to the course you have pursued with your eldest son. It was +entirely from worldly vanity that you destined him for the Church: +with a family of three sons and four daughters, you were not +warranted in devoting money to an expensive education which has +succeeded in nothing but in giving him extravagant idle habits. +You are now reaping the consequences." + +To point out other people's errors was a duty that Mr. Bulstrode rarely +shrank from, but Mr. Vincy was not equally prepared to be patient. +When a man has the immediate prospect of being mayor, and is ready, +in the interests of commerce, to take up a firm attitude on +politics generally, he has naturally a sense of his importance +to the framework of things which seems to throw questions of private +conduct into the background. And this particular reproof irritated +him more than any other. It was eminently superfluous to him to be +told that he was reaping the consequences. But he felt his neck +under Bulstrode's yoke; and though he usually enjoyed kicking, +he was anxious to refrain from that relief. + +"As to that, Bulstrode, it's no use going back. I'm not one of your +pattern men, and I don't pretend to be. I couldn't foresee everything +in the trade; there wasn't a finer business in Middlemarch than ours, +and the lad was clever. My poor brother was in the Church, and would +have done well--had got preferment already, but that stomach fever +took him off: else he might have been a dean by this time. I think I +was justified in what I tried to do for Fred. If you come to religion, +it seems to me a man shouldn't want to carve out his meat to an ounce +beforehand:--one must trust a little to Providence and be generous. +It's a good British feeling to try and raise your family a little: +in my opinion, it's a father's duty to give his sons a fine chance." + +"I don't wish to act otherwise than as your best friend, Vincy, +when I say that what you have been uttering just now is one mass +of worldliness and inconsistent folly." + +"Very well," said Mr. Vincy, kicking in spite of resolutions, +"I never professed to be anything but worldly; and, what's more, +I don't see anybody else who is not worldly. I suppose you don't +conduct business on what you call unworldly principles. +The only difference I see is that one worldliness is a little bit +honester than another." + +"This kind of discussion is unfruitful, Vincy," said Mr. Bulstrode, +who, finishing his sandwich, had thrown himself back in his chair, +and shaded his eyes as if weary. "You had some more particular business." + +"Yes, yes. The long and short of it is, somebody has told +old Featherstone, giving you as the authority, that Fred has been +borrowing or trying to borrow money on the prospect of his land. +Of course you never said any such nonsense. But the old fellow will +insist on it that Fred should bring him a denial in your handwriting; +that is, just a bit of a note saying you don't believe a word +of such stuff, either of his having borrowed or tried to borrow +in such a fool's way. I suppose you can have no objection to do that." + +"Pardon me. I have an objection. I am by no means sure that your son, +in his recklessness and ignorance--I will use no severer word-- +has not tried to raise money by holding out his future prospects, +or even that some one may not have been foolish enough to supply him +on so vague a presumption: there is plenty of such lax money-lending +as of other folly in the world." + +"But Fred gives me his honor that he has never borrowed money +on the pretence of any understanding about his uncle's land. +He is not a liar. I don't want to make him better than he is. +I have blown him up well--nobody can say I wink at what he does. +But he is not a liar. And I should have thought--but I may be wrong-- +that there was no religion to hinder a man from believing the best +of a young fellow, when you don't know worse. It seems to me it would +be a poor sort of religion to put a spoke in his wheel by refusing +to say you don't believe such harm of him as you've got no good reason +to believe." + +"I am not at all sure that I should be befriending your son by smoothing +his way to the future possession of Featherstone's property. +I cannot regard wealth as a blessing to those who use it simply +as a harvest for this world. You do not like to hear these things, +Vincy, but on this occasion I feel called upon to tell you that I +have no motive for furthering such a disposition of property +as that which you refer to. I do not shrink from saying that it +will not tend to your son's eternal welfare or to the glory of God. +Why then should you expect me to pen this kind of affidavit, +which has no object but to keep up a foolish partiality and secure +a foolish bequest?" + +"If you mean to hinder everybody from having money but saints +and evangelists, you must give up some profitable partnerships, +that's all I can say," Mr. Vincy burst out very bluntly. +"It may be for the glory of God, but it is not for the glory of the +Middlemarch trade, that Plymdale's house uses those blue and green +dyes it gets from the Brassing manufactory; they rot the silk, +that's all I know about it. Perhaps if other people knew so much +of the profit went to the glory of God, they might like it better. +But I don't mind so much about that--I could get up a pretty row, +if I chose." + +Mr. Bulstrode paused a little before he answered. "You pain me +very much by speaking in this way, Vincy. I do not expect you +to understand my grounds of action--it is not an easy thing even +to thread a path for principles in the intricacies of the world-- +still less to make the thread clear for the careless and the scoffing. +You must remember, if you please, that I stretch my tolerance +towards you as my wife's brother, and that it little becomes you +to complain of me as withholding material help towards the worldly +position of your family. I must remind you that it is not your +own prudence or judgment that has enabled you to keep your place +in the trade." + +"Very likely not; but you have been no loser by my trade yet," +said Mr. Vincy, thoroughly nettled (a result which was seldom much +retarded by previous resolutions). "And when you married Harriet, +I don't see how you could expect that our families should not hang +by the same nail. If you've changed your mind, and want my family +to come down in the world, you'd better say so. I've never changed; +I'm a plain Churchman now, just as I used to be before doctrines +came up. I take the world as I find it, in trade and everything else. +I'm contented to be no worse than my neighbors. But if you want +us to come down in the world, say so. I shall know better what to +do then." + +"You talk unreasonably. Shall you come down in the world for want +of this letter about your son?" + +"Well, whether or not, I consider it very unhandsome of you to refuse it. +Such doings may be lined with religion, but outside they have +a nasty, dog-in-the-manger look. You might as well slander Fred: +it comes pretty near to it when you refuse to say you didn't set +a slander going. It's this sort of thing---this tyrannical spirit, +wanting to play bishop and banker everywhere--it's this sort of thing +makes a man's name stink." + +"Vincy, if you insist on quarrelling with me, it will be exceedingly +painful to Harriet as well as myself," said Mr. Bulstrode, +with a trifle more eagerness and paleness than usual. + +"I don't want to quarrel. It's for my interest--and perhaps +for yours too--that we should be friends. I bear you no grudge; +I think no worse of you than I do of other people. A man who half +starves himself, and goes the length in family prayers, and so on, +that you do, believes in his religion whatever it may be: you could +turn over your capital just as fast with cursing and swearing:-- +plenty of fellows do. You like to be master, there's no denying that; +you must be first chop in heaven, else you won't like it much. +But you're my sister's husband, and we ought to stick together; +and if I know Harriet, she'll consider it your fault if we quarrel +because you strain at a gnat in this way, and refuse to do Fred a +good turn. And I don't mean to say I shall bear it well. I consider +it unhandsome." + +Mr. Vincy rose, began to button his great-coat, and looked steadily +at his brother-in-law, meaning to imply a demand for a decisive answer. + +This was not the first time that Mr. Bulstrode had begun by admonishing +Mr. Vincy, and had ended by seeing a very unsatisfactory reflection +of himself in the coarse unflattering mirror which that manufacturer's +mind presented to the subtler lights and shadows of his fellow-men; +and perhaps his experience ought to have warned him how the scene +would end. But a full-fed fountain will be generous with its +waters even in the rain, when they are worse than useless; +and a fine fount of admonition is apt to be equally irrepressible. + +It was not in Mr. Bulstrode's nature to comply directly in consequence +of uncomfortable suggestions. Before changing his course, +he always needed to shape his motives and bring them into accordance +with his habitual standard. He said, at last-- + +"I will reflect a little, Vincy. I will mention the subject +to Harriet. I shall probably send you a letter." + +"Very well. As soon as you can, please. I hope it will all be +settled before I see you to-morrow." + +CHAPTER XIV. + + "Follows here the strict receipt + For that sauce to dainty meat, + Named Idleness, which many eat + By preference, and call it sweet: + First watch for morsels, like a hound + Mix well with buffets, stir them round + With good thick oil of flatteries, + And froth with mean self-lauding lies. + Serve warm: the vessels you must choose + To keep it in are dead men's shoes." + +Mr. Bulstrode's consultation of Harriet seemed to have had the effect +desired by Mr. Vincy, for early the next morning a letter came +which Fred could carry to Mr. Featherstone as the required testimony. + +The old gentleman was staying in bed on account of the cold weather, +and as Mary Garth was not to be seen in the sitting-room, Fred +went up-stairs immediately and presented the letter to his uncle, +who, propped up comfortably on a bed-rest, was not less able than +usual to enjoy his consciousness of wisdom in distrusting and +frustrating mankind. He put on his spectacles to read the letter, +pursing up his lips and drawing down their corners. + +"Under the circumstances I will not decline to state my conviction-- +tchah! what fine words the fellow puts! He's as fine as an auctioneer-- +that your son Frederic has not obtained any advance of money +on bequests promised by Mr. Featherstone--promised? who said I +had ever promised? I promise nothing--I shall make codicils as long +as I like--and that considering the nature of such a proceeding, +it is unreasonable to presume that a young man of sense and character +would attempt it--ah, but the gentleman doesn't say you are a +young man of sense and character, mark you that, sir!--As to my own +concern with any report of such a nature, I distinctly affirm that I +never made any statement to the effect that your son had borrowed money +on any property that might accrue to him on Mr. Featherstone's demise-- +bless my heart! `property'--accrue--demise! Lawyer Standish is +nothing to him. He couldn't speak finer if he wanted to borrow. +Well," Mr. Featherstone here looked over his spectacles at Fred, +while he handed back the letter to him with a contemptuous gesture, "you +don't suppose I believe a thing because Bulstrode writes it out fine, eh?" + +Fred colored. "You wished to have the letter, sir. I should +think it very likely that Mr. Bulstrode's denial is as good +as the authority which told you what he denies." + +"Every bit. I never said I believed either one or the other. +And now what d' you expect?" said Mr. Featherstone, curtly, keeping on +his spectacles, but withdrawing his hands under his wraps. + +"I expect nothing, sir." Fred with difficulty restrained himself +from venting his irritation. "I came to bring you the letter. +If you like I will bid you good morning." + +"Not yet, not yet. Ring the bell; I want missy to come." + +It was a servant who came in answer to the bell. + +"Tell missy to come!" said Mr. Featherstone, impatiently. "What business +had she to go away?" He spoke in the same tone when Mary came. + +"Why couldn't you sit still here till I told you to go? want +my waistcoat now. I told you always to put it on the bed." + +Mary's eyes looked rather red, as if she had been crying. It was +clear that Mr. Featherstone was in one of his most snappish humors +this morning, and though Fred had now the prospect of receiving +the much-needed present of money, he would have preferred being free +to turn round on the old tyrant and tell him that Mary Garth was +too good to be at his beck. Though Fred had risen as she entered +the room, she had barely noticed him, and looked as if her nerves +were quivering with the expectation that something would be thrown +at her. But she never had anything worse than words to dread. +When she went to reach the waistcoat from a peg, Fred went up +to her and said, "Allow me." + +"Let it alone! You bring it, missy, and lay it down here," +said Mr. Featherstone. "Now you go away again till I call you," +he added, when the waistcoat was laid down by him. It was usual +with him to season his pleasure in showing favor to one person +by being especially disagreeable to another, and Mary was always +at hand to furnish the condiment. When his own relatives came +she was treated better. Slowly he took out a bunch of keys from +the waistcoat pocket, and slowly he drew forth a tin box which was +under the bed-clothes. + +"You expect I am going to give you a little fortune, eh?" he said, +looking above his spectacles and pausing in the act of opening +the lid. + +"Not at all, sir. You were good enough to speak of making me +a present the other day, else, of course, I should not have +thought of the matter." But Fred was of a hopeful disposition, +and a vision had presented itself of a sum just large enough +to deliver him from a certain anxiety. When Fred got into debt, +it always seemed to him highly probable that something or other-- +he did not necessarily conceive what--would come to pass enabling +him to pay in due time. And now that the providential occurrence +was apparently close at hand, it would have been sheer absurdity +to think that the supply would be short of the need: as absurd +as a faith that believed in half a miracle for want of strength +to believe in a whole one. + +The deep-veined hands fingered many bank-notes-one after the other, +laying them down flat again, while Fred leaned back in his chair, +scorning to look eager. He held himself to be a gentleman at heart, +and did not like courting an old fellow for his money. At last, +Mr. Featherstone eyed him again over his spectacles and presented him +with a little sheaf of notes: Fred could see distinctly that there +were but five, as the less significant edges gaped towards him. +But then, each might mean fifty pounds. He took them, saying-- + +"I am very much obliged to you, sir," and was going to roll them +up without seeming to think of their value. But this did not suit +Mr. Featherstone, who was eying him intently. + +"Come, don't you think it worth your while to count 'em? You take +money like a lord; I suppose you lose it like one." + +"I thought I was not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, sir. But I +shall be very happy to count them." + +Fred was not so happy, however, after he had counted them. For they +actually presented the absurdity of being less than his hopefulness +had decided that they must be. What can the fitness of things mean, +if not their fitness to a man's expectations? Failing this, +absurdity and atheism gape behind him. The collapse for Fred was severe +when he found that he held no more than five twenties, and his share +in the higher education of this country did not seem to help him. +Nevertheless he said, with rapid changes in his fair complexion-- + +"It is very handsome of you, sir." + +"I should think it is," said Mr. Featherstone, locking his box +and replacing it, then taking off his spectacles deliberately, +and at length, as if his inward meditation had more deeply +convinced him, repeating, "I should think it handsome." + +"I assure you, sir, I am very grateful," said Fred, who had had +time to recover his cheerful air. + +"So you ought to be. You want to cut a figure in the world, and I +reckon Peter Featherstone is the only one you've got to trust to." +Here the old man's eyes gleamed with a curiously mingled satisfaction +in the consciousness that this smart young fellow relied upon him, +and that the smart young fellow was rather a fool for doing so. + +"Yes, indeed: I was not born to very splendid chances. Few men have +been more cramped than I have been," said Fred, with some sense of +surprise at his own virtue, considering how hardly he was dealt with. +"It really seems a little too bad to have to ride a broken-winded hunter, +and see men, who, are not half such good judges as yourself, +able to throw away any amount of money on buying bad bargains." + +"Well, you can buy yourself a fine hunter now. Eighty pound +is enough for that, I reckon--and you'll have twenty pound over +to get yourself out of any little scrape," said Mr. Featherstone, +chuckling slightly. + +"You are very good, sir," said Fred, with a fine sense of contrast +between the words and his feeling. + +"Ay, rather a better uncle than your fine uncle Bulstrode. +You won't get much out of his spekilations, I think. He's got +a pretty strong string round your father's leg, by what I hear, eh?" + +"My father never tells me anything about his affairs, sir." + +"Well, he shows some sense there. But other people find 'em out +without his telling. HE'LL never have much to leave you: +he'll most-like die without a will--he's the sort of man to do it-- +let 'em make him mayor of Middlemarch as much as they like. +But you won't get much by his dying without a will, though you +ARE the eldest son." + +Fred thought that Mr. Featherstone had never been so disagreeable +before. True, he had never before given him quite so much money at once. + +"Shall I destroy this letter of Mr. Bulstrode's, sir?" said Fred, +rising with the letter as if he would put it in the fire. + +"Ay, ay, I don't want it. It's worth no money to me." + +Fred carried the letter to the fire, and thrust the poker through +it with much zest. He longed to get out of the room, but he was +a little ashamed before his inner self, as well as before his uncle, +to run away immediately after pocketing the money. Presently, the +farm-bailiff came up to give his master a report, and Fred, to his +unspeakable relief, was dismissed with the injunction to come again soon. + +He had longed not only to be set free from his uncle, but also +to find Mary Garth. She was now in her usual place by the fire, +with sewing in her hands and a book open on the little table +by her side. Her eyelids had lost some of their redness now, +and she had her usual air of self-command. + +"Am I wanted up-stairs?" she said, half rising as Fred entered. + +"No; I am only dismissed, because Simmons is gone up." + +Mary sat down again, and resumed her work. She was certainly +treating him with more indifference than usual: she did not know +how affectionately indignant he had felt on her behalf up-stairs. + +"May I stay here a little, Mary, or shall I bore you?" + +"Pray sit down," said Mary; "you will not be so heavy a bore +as Mr. John Waule, who was here yesterday, and he sat down without +asking my leave." + +"Poor fellow! I think he is in love with you." + +"I am not aware of it. And to me it is one of the most odious +things in a girl's life, that there must always be some supposition +of falling in love coming between her and any man who is kind +to her, and to whom she is grateful. I should have thought that I, +at least, might have been safe from all that. I have no ground +for the nonsensical vanity of fancying everybody who comes near +me is in love with me." + +Mary did not mean to betray any feeling, but in spite of herself +she ended in a tremulous tone of vexation. + +"Confound John Waule! I did not mean to make you angry. I didn't +know you had any reason for being grateful to me. I forgot what +a great service you think it if any one snuffs a candle for you. +Fred also had his pride, and was not going to show that he knew +what had called forth this outburst of Mary's. + +"Oh, I am not angry, except with the ways of the world. I do +like to be spoken to as if I had common-sense. I really often feel +as if I could understand a little more than I ever hear even from +young gentlemen who have been to college." Mary had recovered, +and she spoke with a suppressed rippling under-current of laughter +pleasant to hear. + +"I don't care how merry you are at my expense this morning," +said Fred, "I thought you looked so sad when you came up-stairs. It +is a shame you should stay here to be bullied in that way." + +"Oh, I have an easy life--by comparison. I have tried being +a teacher, and I am not fit for that: my mind is too fond +of wandering on its own way. I think any hardship is better +than pretending to do what one is paid for, and never really +doing it. Everything here I can do as well as any one else could; +perhaps better than some--Rosy, for example. Though she is just the +sort of beautiful creature that is imprisoned with ogres in fairy tales." + +"ROSY!" cried Fred, in a tone of profound brotherly scepticism. + +"Come, Fred!" said Mary, emphatically; "you have no right to be +so critical." + +"Do you mean anything particular--just now?" + +"No, I mean something general--always." + +"Oh, that I am idle and extravagant. Well, I am not fit to be +a poor man. I should not have made a bad fellow if I had been rich." + +"You would have done your duty in that state of life to which it +has not pleased God to call you," said Mary, laughing. + +"Well, I couldn't do my duty as a clergyman, any more than you +could do yours as a governess. You ought to have a little +fellow-feeling there, Mary." + +"I never said you ought to be a clergyman. There are other sorts +of work. It seems to me very miserable not to resolve on some +course and act accordingly." + +"So I could, if--" Fred broke off, and stood up, leaning against +the mantel-piece. + +"If you were sure you should not have a fortune?" + +"I did not say that. You want to quarrel with me. It is too bad +of you to be guided by what other people say about me." + +"How can I want to quarrel with you? I should be quarrelling with +all my new books," said Mary, lifting the volume on the table. +"However naughty you may be to other people, you are good to me." + +"Because I like you better than any one else. But I know you +despise me." + +"Yes, I do--a little," said Mary, nodding, with a smile. + +"You would admire a stupendous fellow, who would have wise opinions +about everything." + +"Yes, I should." Mary was sewing swiftly, and seemed provokingly +mistress of the situation. When a conversation has taken a wrong turn +for us, we only get farther and farther into the swamp of awkwardness. +This was what Fred Vincy felt. + +"I suppose a woman is never in love with any one she has always known-- +ever since she can remember; as a man often is. It is always some +new fellow who strikes a girl." + +"Let me see," said Mary, the corners of her mouth curling archly; +"I must go back on my experience. There is Juliet--she seems +an example of what you say. But then Ophelia had probably known +Hamlet a long while; and Brenda Troil--she had known Mordaunt Merton +ever since they were children; but then he seems to have been +an estimable young man; and Minna was still more deeply in love +with Cleveland, who was a stranger. Waverley was new to Flora MacIvor; +but then she did not fall in love with him. And there are Olivia +and Sophia Primrose, and Corinne--they may be said to have fallen +in love with new men. Altogether, my experience is rather mixed." + +Mary looked up with some roguishness at Fred, and that look of hers +was very dear to him, though the eyes were nothing more than clear +windows where observation sat laughingly. He was certainly an +affectionate fellow, and as he had grown from boy to man, he had grown +in love with his old playmate, notwithstanding that share in the higher +education of the country which had exalted his views of rank and income. + +"When a man is not loved, it is no use for him to say that he could +be a better fellow--could do anything--I mean, if he were sure +of being loved in return." + +"Not of the least use in the world for him to say he COULD +be better. Might, could, would--they are contemptible auxiliaries." + +"I don't see how a man is to be good for much unless he has some +one woman to love him dearly." + +"I think the goodness should come before he expects that." + +"You know better, Mary. Women don't love men for their goodness." + +"Perhaps not. But if they love them, they never think them bad." + +"It is hardly fair to say I am bad." + +"I said nothing at all about you." + +"I never shall be good for anything, Mary, if you will not say +that you love me--if you will not promise to marry me--I mean, +when I am able to marry." + +"If I did love you, I would not marry you: I would certainly +not promise ever to marry you." + +"I think that is quite wicked, Mary. If you love me, you ought +to promise to marry me." + +"On the contrary, I think it would be wicked in me to marry you +even if I did love you." + +"You mean, just as I am, without any means of maintaining a wife. +Of course: I am but three-and-twenty." + +"In that last point you will alter. But I am not so sure of any +other alteration. My father says an idle man ought not to exist, +much less, be married." + +"Then I am to blow my brains out?" + +"No; on the whole I should think you would do better to pass your +examination. I have heard Mr. Farebrother say it is disgracefully easy." + +"That is all very fine. Anything is easy to him. Not that +cleverness has anything to do with it. I am ten times cleverer +than many men who pass." + +"Dear me!" said Mary, unable to repress her sarcasm; "that accounts +for the curates like Mr. Crowse. Divide your cleverness by ten, +and the quotient--dear me!--is able to take a degree. But that only +shows you are ten times more idle than the others." + +"Well, if I did pass, you would not want me to go into the Church?" + +"That is not the question--what I want you to do. You have a +conscience of your own, I suppose. There! there is Mr. Lydgate. +I must go and tell my uncle." + +"Mary," said Fred, seizing her hand as she rose; "if you will not +give me some encouragement, I shall get worse instead of better." + +"I will not give you any encouragement," said Mary, reddening. +"Your friends would dislike it, and so would mine. My father would +think it a disgrace to me if I accepted a man who got into debt, +and would not work!" + +Fred was stung, and released her hand. She walked to the door, +but there she turned and said: "Fred, you have always been so good, +so generous to me. I am not ungrateful. But never speak to me in +that way again." + +"Very well," said Fred, sulkily, taking up his hat and whip. +His complexion showed patches of pale pink and dead white. +Like many a plucked idle young gentleman, he was thoroughly +in love, and with a plain girl, who had no money! But having +Mr. Featherstone's land in the background, and a persuasion that, +let Mary say what she would, she really did care for him, Fred was +not utterly in despair. + +When he got home, he gave four of the twenties to his mother, asking her +to keep them for him. "I don't want to spend that money, mother. +I want it to pay a debt with. So keep it safe away from my fingers." + +"Bless you, my dear," said Mrs. Vincy. She doted on her eldest son +and her youngest girl (a child of six), whom others thought her two +naughtiest children. The mother's eyes are not always deceived +in their partiality: she at least can best judge who is the tender, +filial-hearted child. And Fred was certainly very fond of his mother. +Perhaps it was his fondness for another person also that made him +particularly anxious to take some security against his own liability +to spend the hundred pounds. For the creditor to whom he owed +a hundred and sixty held a firmer security in the shape of a bill +signed by Mary's father. + +CHAPTER XV. + + "Black eyes you have left, you say, + Blue eyes fail to draw you; + Yet you seem more rapt to-day, + Than of old we saw you. + + "Oh, I track the fairest fair + Through new haunts of pleasure; + Footprints here and echoes there + Guide me to my treasure: + + "Lo! she turns--immortal youth + Wrought to mortal stature, + Fresh as starlight's aged truth-- + Many-named Nature!" + +A great historian, as he insisted on calling himself, who had the +happiness to be dead a hundred and twenty years ago, and so to take +his place among the colossi whose huge legs our living pettiness +is observed to walk under, glories in his copious remarks and +digressions as the least imitable part of his work, and especially +in those initial chapters to the successive books of his history, +where he seems to bring his armchair to the proscenium and chat with +us in all the lusty ease of his fine English. But Fielding lived +when the days were longer (for time, like money, is measured by our +needs), when summer afternoons were spacious, and the clock ticked +slowly in the winter evenings. We belated historians must not linger +after his example; and if we did so, it is probable that our chat would +be thin and eager, as if delivered from a campstool in a parrot-house. +I at least have so much to do in unraveling certain human lots, +and seeing how they were woven and interwoven, that all the light +I can command must be concentrated on this particular web, and not +dispersed over that tempting range of relevancies called the universe. + +At present I have to make the new settler Lydgate better known +to any one interested in him than he could possibly be even to those +who had seen the most of him since his arrival in Middlemarch. +For surely all must admit that a man may be puffed and belauded, +envied, ridiculed, counted upon as a tool and fallen in love with, or at +least selected as a future husband, and yet remain virtually unknown-- +known merely as a cluster of signs for his neighbors' false suppositions. +There was a general impression, however, that Lydgate was not altogether +a common country doctor, and in Middlemarch at that time such an +impression was significant of great things being expected from him. +For everybody's family doctor was remarkably clever, and was understood +to have immeasurable skill in the management and training of the +most skittish or vicious diseases. The evidence of his cleverness +was of the higher intuitive order, lying in his lady-patients' +immovable conviction, and was unassailable by any objection except +that their intuitions were opposed by others equally strong; each lady +who saw medical truth in Wrench and "the strengthening treatment" +regarding Toller and "the lowering system" as medical perdition. +For the heroic times of copious bleeding and blistering had not +yet departed, still less the times of thorough-going theory, +when disease in general was called by some bad name, and treated +accordingly without shilly-shally--as if, for example, it were +to be called insurrection, which must not be fired on with +blank-cartridge, but have its blood drawn at once. The strengtheners +and the lowerers were all "clever" men in somebody's opinion, +which is really as much as can be said for any living talents. +Nobody's imagination had gone so far as to conjecture that Mr. Lydgate +could know as much as Dr. Sprague and Dr. Minchin, the two physicians, +who alone could offer any hope when danger was extreme, +and when the smallest hope was worth a guinea. Still, I repeat, +there was a general impression that Lydgate was something rather +more uncommon than any general practitioner in Middlemarch. +And this was true. He was but seven-and-twenty, an age at which many +men are not quite common--at which they are hopeful of achievement, +resolute in avoidance, thinking that Mammon shall never put a bit +in their mouths and get astride their backs, but rather that Mammon, +if they have anything to do with him, shall draw their chariot. + +He had been left an orphan when he was fresh from a public school. +His father, a military man, had made but little provision for three +children, and when the boy Tertius asked to have a medical education, +it seemed easier to his guardians to grant his request by apprenticing +him to a country practitioner than to make any objections on the +score of family dignity. He was one of the rarer lads who early +get a decided bent and make up their minds that there is something +particular in life which they would like to do for its own sake, +and not because their fathers did it. Most of us who turn to any +subject with love remember some morning or evening hour when we got on +a high stool to reach down an untried volume, or sat with parted lips +listening to a new talker, or for very lack of books began to listen +to the voices within, as the first traceable beginning of our love. +Something of that sort happened to Lydgate. He was a quick fellow, +and when hot from play, would toss himself in a corner, and in five +minutes be deep in any sort of book that he could lay his hands on: +if it were Rasselas or Gulliver, so much the better, but Bailey's +Dictionary would do, or the Bible with the Apocrypha in it. +Something he must read, when he was not riding the pony, or running +and hunting, or listening to the talk of men. All this was true +of him at ten years of age; he had then read through "Chrysal, +or the Adventures of a Guinea," which was neither milk for babes, +nor any chalky mixture meant to pass for milk, and it had already +occurred to him that books were stuff, and that life was stupid. +His school studies had not much modified that opinion, for though he +"did" his classics and mathematics, he was not pre-eminent in them. +It was said of him, that Lydgate could do anything he liked, +but he had certainly not yet liked to do anything remarkable. +He was a vigorous animal with a ready understanding, but no spark +had yet kindled in him an intellectual passion; knowledge seemed +to him a very superficial affair, easily mastered: judging from the +conversation of his elders, he had apparently got already more than +was necessary for mature life. Probably this was not an exceptional +result of expensive teaching at that period of short-waisted coats, +and other fashions which have not yet recurred. But, one vacation, +a wet day sent him to the small home library to hunt once more for +a book which might have some freshness for him: in vain! unless, +indeed, he took down a dusty row of volumes with gray-paper backs +and dingy labels--the volumes of an old Cyclopaedia which he had +never disturbed. It would at least be a novelty to disturb them. +They were on the highest shelf, and he stood on a chair to get +them down. But he opened the volume which he first took from +the shelf: somehow, one is apt to read in a makeshift attitude, +just where it might seem inconvenient to do so. The page he +opened on was under the head of Anatomy, and the first passage +that drew his eyes was on the valves of the heart. He was not much +acquainted with valves of any sort, but he knew that valvae +were folding-doors, and through this crevice came a sudden light +startling him with his first vivid notion of finely adjusted +mechanism in the human frame. A liberal education had of course +left him free to read the indecent passages in the school classics, +but beyond a general sense of secrecy and obscenity in connection +with his internal structure, had left his imagination quite unbiassed, +so that for anything he knew his brains lay in small bags at +his temples, and he had no more thought of representing to himself +how his blood circulated than how paper served instead of gold. +But the moment of vocation had come, and before he got down from +his chair, the world was made new to him by a presentiment of. +endless processes filling the vast spaces planked out of his sight +by that wordy ignorance which he had supposed to be knowledge. +From that hour Lydgate felt the growth of an intellectual passion. + +We are not afraid of telling over and over again how a man comes +to fall in love with a woman and be wedded to her, or else be fatally +parted from her. Is it due to excess of poetry or of stupidity that +we are never weary of describing what King James called a woman's +"makdom and her fairnesse," never weary of listening to the twanging +of the old Troubadour strings, and are comparatively uninterested +in that other kind of "makdom and fairnesse" which must be wooed +with industrious thought and patient renunciation of small desires? +In the story of this passion, too, the development varies: +sometimes it is the glorious marriage, sometimes frustration and +final parting. And not seldom the catastrophe is bound up with +the other passion, sung by the Troubadours. For in the multitude +of middle-aged men who go about their vocations in a daily course +determined for them much in the same way as the tie of their cravats, +there is always a good number who once meant to shape their own +deeds and alter the world a little. The story of their coming +to be shapen after the average and fit to be packed by the gross, +is hardly ever told even in their consciousness; for perhaps their +ardor in generous unpaid toil cooled as imperceptibly as the ardor +of other youthful loves, till one day their earlier self walked +like a ghost in its old home and made the new furniture ghastly. +Nothing in the world more subtle than the process of their +gradual change! In the beginning they inhaled it unknowingly: +you and I may have sent some of our breath towards infecting them, +when we uttered our conforming falsities or drew our silly conclusions: +or perhaps it came with the vibrations from a woman's glance. + +Lydgate did not mean to be one of those failures, and there was +the better hope of him because his scientific interest soon took +the form of a professional enthusiasm: he had a youthful belief +in his bread-winning work, not to be stifled by that initiation +in makeshift called his 'prentice days; and he carried to his +studies in London, Edinburgh, and Paris, the conviction that the +medical profession as it might be was the finest in the world; +presenting the most perfect interchange between science and art; +offering the most direct alliance between intellectual conquest +and the social good. Lydgate's nature demanded this combination: +he was an emotional creature, with a flesh-and-blood sense of +fellowship which withstood all the abstractions of special study. +He cared not only for "cases," but for John and Elizabeth, +especially Elizabeth. + +There was another attraction in his profession: it wanted reform, +and gave a man an opportunity for some indignant resolve to reject +its venal decorations and other humbug, and to be the possessor +of genuine though undemanded qualifications. He went to study +in Paris with the determination that when he provincial home again +he would settle in some provincial town as a general practitioner, +and resist the irrational severance between medical and surgical +knowledge in the interest of his own scientific pursuits, as well +as of the general advance: he would keep away from the range of +London intrigues, jealousies, and social truckling, and win celebrity, +however slowly, as Jenner had done, by the independent value of +his work. For it must be remembered that this was a dark period; +and in spite of venerable colleges which used great efforts to secure +purity of knowledge by making it scarce, and to exclude error +by a rigid exclusiveness in relation to fees and appointments, +it happened that very ignorant young gentlemen were promoted in town, +and many more got a legal right to practise over large areas +in the country. Also, the high standard held up to the public +mind by the College of which which gave its peculiar sanction +to the expensive and highly rarefied medical instruction obtained +by graduates of Oxford and Cambridge, did not hinder quackery from +having an excellent time of it; for since professional practice +chiefly consisted in giving a great many drugs, the public inferred +that it might be better off with more drugs still, if they could only +be got cheaply, and hence swallowed large cubic measures of physic +prescribed by unscrupulous ignorance which had taken no degrees. +Considering that statistics had not yet embraced a calculation as +to the number of ignorant or canting doctors which absolutely must +exist in the teeth of all changes, it seemed to Lydgate that a change +in the units was the most direct mode of changing the numbers. +He meant to be a unit who would make a certain amount of difference +towards that spreading change which would one day tell appreciably +upon the averages, and in the mean time have the pleasure of making +an advantageous difference to the viscera of his own patients. +But he did not simply aim at a more genuine kind of practice than +was common. He was ambitious of a wider effect: he was fired with +the possibility that he might work out the proof of an anatomical +conception and make a link in the chain of discovery. + +Does it seem incongruous to you that a Middlemarch surgeon should +dream of himself as a discoverer? Most of us, indeed, know little +of the great originators until they have been lifted up among +the constellations and already rule our fates. But that Herschel, +for example, who "broke the barriers of the heavens"--did he +not once play a provincial church-organ, and give music-lessons +to stumbling pianists? Each of those Shining Ones had to walk +on the earth among neighbors who perhaps thought much more of his +gait and his garments than of anything which was to give him +a title to everlasting fame: each of them had his little local +personal history sprinkled with small temptations and sordid cares, +which made the retarding friction of his course towards final +companionship with the immortals. Lydgate was not blind to the +dangers of such friction, but he had plenty of confidence in his +resolution to avoid it as far as possible: being seven-and-twenty, +he felt himself experienced. And he was not going to have his +vanities provoked by contact with the showy worldly successes +of the capital, but to live among people who could hold no rivalry +with that pursuit of a great idea which was to be a twin object +with the assiduous practice of his profession. There was fascination +in the hope that the two purposes would illuminate each other: +the careful observation and inference which was his daily work, +the use of the lens to further his judgment in special cases, +would further his thought as an instrument of larger inquiry. +Was not this the typical pre-eminence of his profession? He would +be a good Middlemarch doctor, and by that very means keep himself +in the track of far-reaching investigation. On one point he may +fairly claim approval at this particular stage of his career: +he did not mean to imitate those philanthropic models who make +a profit out of poisonous pickles to support themselves while they +are exposing adulteration, or hold shares in a gambling-hell that +they may have leisure to represent the cause of public morality. +He intended to begin in his own case some particular reforms which +were quite certainly within his reach, and much less of a problem +than the demonstrating of an anatomical conception. One of these +reforms was to act stoutly on the strength of a recent legal decision, +and simply prescribe, without dispensing drugs or taking percentage +from druggists. This was an innovation for one who had chosen +to adopt the style of general practitioner in a country town, +and would be felt as offensive criticism by his professional brethren. +But Lydgate meant to innovate in his treatment also, and he was wise +enough to see that the best security for his practising honestly +according to his belief was to get rid of systematic temptations +to the contrary. + +Perhaps that was a more cheerful time for observers and theorizers +than the present; we are apt to think it the finest era of the world +when America was beginning to be discovered, when a bold sailor, +even if he were wrecked, might alight on a new kingdom; and about 1829 +the dark territories of Pathology were a fine America for a spirited +young adventurer. Lydgate was ambitious above all to contribute +towards enlarging the scientific, rational basis of his profession. +The more he became interested in special questions of disease, +such as the nature of fever or fevers, the more keenly he felt the +need for that fundamental knowledge of structure which just at the +beginning of the century had been illuminated by the brief and glorious +career of Bichat, who died when he was only one-and-thirty, but, +like another Alexander, left a realm large enough for many heirs. +That great Frenchman first carried out the conception that living bodies, +fundamentally considered, are not associations of organs which can be +understood by studying them first apart, and then as it were federally; +but must be regarded as consisting of certain primary webs or tissues, +out of which the various organs--brain, heart, lungs, and so on-- +are compacted, as the various accommodations of a house are built up +in various proportions of wood, iron, stone, brick, zinc, and the rest, +each material having its peculiar composition and proportions. +No man, one sees, can understand and estimate the entire structure +or its parts--what are its frailties and what its repairs, without +knowing the nature of the materials. And the conception wrought +out by Bichat, with his detailed study of the different tissues, +acted necessarily on medical questions as the turning of gas-light +would act on a dim, oil-lit street, showing new connections +and hitherto hidden facts of structure which must be taken into +account in considering the symptoms of maladies and the action +of medicaments. But results which depend on human conscience and +intelligence work slowly, and now at the end of 1829, most medical +practice was still strutting or shambling along the old paths, +and there was still scientific work to be done which might have +seemed to be a direct sequence of Bichat's. This great seer did +not go beyond the consideration of the tissues as ultimate facts +in the living organism, marking the limit of anatomical analysis; +but it was open to another mind to say, have not these structures +some common basis from which they have all started, as your sarsnet, +gauze, net, satin, and velvet from the raw cocoon? Here would be +another light, as of oxy-hydrogen, showing the very grain of things, +and revising ail former explanations. Of this sequence to Bichat's +work, already vibrating along many currents of the European mind, +Lydgate was enamoured; he longed to demonstrate the more intimate +relations of living structure, and help to define men's thought more +accurately after the true order. The work had not yet been done, +but only prepared for those who knew how to use the preparation. +What was the primitive tissue? In that way Lydgate put the question-- +not quite in the way required by the awaiting answer; but such +missing of the right word befalls many seekers. And he counted on +quiet intervals to be watchfully seized, for taking up the threads +of investigation--on many hints to be won from diligent application, +not only of the scalpel, but of the microscope, which research +had begun to use again with new enthusiasm of reliance. Such was +Lydgate's plan of his future: to do good small work for Middlemarch, +and great work for the world. + +He was certainly a happy fellow at this time: to be seven-and-twenty, +without any fixed vices, with a generous resolution that his +action should be beneficent, and with ideas in his brain that made +life interesting quite apart from the cultus of horseflesh +and other mystic rites of costly observance, which the eight +hundred pounds left him after buying his practice would certainly +not have gone far in paying for. He was at a starting-point +which makes many a man's career a fine subject for betting, +if there were any gentlemen given to that amusement who could +appreciate the complicated probabilities of an arduous purpose, +with all the possible thwartings and furtherings of circumstance, +all the niceties of inward balance, by which a man swims and makes +his point or else is carried headlong. The risk would remain +even with close knowledge of Lydgate's character; for character +too is a process and an unfolding. The man was still in the making, +as much as the Middlemarch doctor and immortal discoverer, and there +were both virtues and faults capable of shrinking or expanding. +The faults will not, I hope, be a reason for the withdrawal of +your interest in him. Among our valued friends is there not some +one or other who is a little too self-confident and disdainful; +whose distinguished mind is a little spotted with commonness; +who is a little pinched here and protuberant there with native. +prejudices; or whose better energies are liable to lapse down +the wrong channel under the influence of transient solicitations? +All these things might be alleged against Lydgate, but then, +they are the periphrases of a polite preacher, who talks of Adam, +and would not like to mention anything painful to the pew-renters. +The particular faults from which these delicate generalities are +distilled have distinguishable physiognomies, diction, accent, +and grimaces; filling up parts in very various dramas. Our vanities +differ as our noses do: all conceit is not the same conceit, +but varies in correspondence with the minutiae of mental make +in which one of us differs from another. Lydgate's conceit +was of the arrogant sort, never simpering, never impertinent, +but massive in its claims and benevolently contemptuous. +He would do a great deal for noodles, being sorry for them, +and feeling quite sure that they could have no power over him: +he had thought of joining the Saint Simonians when he was in Paris, +in order to turn them against some of their own doctrines. +All his faults were marked by kindred traits, and were those of a +man who had a fine baritone, whose clothes hung well upon him, +and who even in his ordinary gestures had an air of inbred distinction. +Where then lay the spots of commonness? says a young lady enamoured +of that careless grace. How could there be any commonness in a man +so well-bred, so ambitious of social distinction, so generous and unusual +in his views of social duty? As easily as there may be stupidity +in a man of genius if you take him unawares on the wrong subject, +or as many a man who has the best will to advance the social +millennium might be ill-inspired in imagining its lighter pleasures; +unable to go beyond Offenbach's music, or the brilliant punning in the +last burlesque. Lydgate's spots of commonness lay in the complexion +of his prejudices, which, in spite of noble intention and sympathy, +were half of them such as are found in ordinary men of the world: +that distinction of mind which belonged to his intellectual ardor, +did not penetrate his feeling and judgment about furniture, or women, +or the desirability of its being known (without his telling) +that he was better born than other country surgeons. He did not +mean to think of furniture at present; but whenever he did so it +was to be feared that neither biology nor schemes of reform would +lift him above the vulgarity of feeling that there would be an +incompatibility in his furniture not being of the best. + +As to women, he had once already been drawn headlong by impetuous folly, +which he meant to be final, since marriage at some distant period +would of course not be impetuous. For those who want to be +acquainted with Lydgate it will be good to know what was that case +of impetuous folly, for it may stand as an example of the fitful +swerving of passion to which he was prone, together with the +chivalrous kindness which helped to make him morally lovable. +The story can be told without many words. It happened when he +was studying in Paris, and just at the time when, over and above +his other work, he was occupied with some galvanic experiments. +One evening, tired with his experimenting, and not being able +to elicit the facts he needed, he left his frogs and rabbits +to some repose under their trying and mysterious dispensation of +unexplained shocks, and went to finish his evening at the theatre +of the Porte Saint Martin, where there was a melodrama which he +had already seen several times; attracted, not by the ingenious +work of the collaborating authors, but by an actress whose part +it was to stab her lover, mistaking him for the evil-designing +duke of the piece. Lydgate was in love with this actress, as a +man is in love with a woman whom he never expects to speak to. +She was a Provencale, with dark eyes, a Greek profile, and rounded +majestic form, having that sort of beauty which carries a sweet +matronliness even in youth, and her voice was a soft cooing. +She had but lately come to Paris, and bore a virtuous reputation, +her husband acting with her as the unfortunate lover. It was her +acting which was "no better than it should be," but the public +was satisfied. Lydgate's only relaxation now was to go and look +at this woman, just as he might have thrown himself under the +breath of the sweet south on a bank of violets for a while, +without prejudice to his galvanism, to which he would presently return. +But this evening the old drama had a new catastrophe. At the moment +when the heroine was to act the stabbing of her lover, and he +was to fall gracefully, the wife veritably stabbed her husband, +who fell as death willed. A wild shriek pierced the house, +and the Provencale fell swooning: a shriek and a swoon were +demanded by the play, but the swooning too was real this time. +Lydgate leaped and climbed, he hardly knew how, on to the stage, +and was active in help, making the acquaintance of his heroine by +finding a contusion on her head and lifting her gently in his arms. +Paris rang with the story of this death:--was it a murder? Some of +the actress's warmest admirers were inclined to believe in her guilt, +and liked her the better for it (such was the taste of those times); +but Lydgate was not one of these. He vehemently contended for +her innocence, and the remote impersonal passion for her beauty +which he had felt before, had passed now into personal devotion, +and tender thought of her lot. The notion of murder was absurd: +no motive was discoverable, the young couple being understood to dote +on each other; and it was not unprecedented that an accidental +slip of the foot should have brought these grave consequences. +The legal investigation ended in Madame Laure's release. +Lydgate by this time had had many interviews with her, and found +her more and more adorable. She talked little; but that was +an additional charm. She was melancholy, and seemed grateful; +her presence was enough, like that of the evening light. +Lydgate was madly anxious about her affection, and jealous lest +any other man than himself should win it and ask her to marry him. +But instead of reopening her engagement at the Porte Saint Martin, +where she would have been all the more popular for the fatal episode, +she left Paris without warning, forsaking her little court of admirers. +Perhaps no one carried inquiry far except Lydgate, who felt that all +science had come to a stand-still while he imagined the unhappy Laure, +stricken by ever-wandering sorrow, herself wandering, and finding no +faithful comforter. Hidden actresses, however, are not so difficult +to find as some other hidden facts, and it was not long before Lydgate +gathered indications that Laure had taken the route to Lyons. +He found her at last acting with great success at Avignon under +the same name, looking more majestic than ever as a forsaken wife +carrying her child in her arms. He spoke to her after the play, +was received with the usual quietude which seemed to him beautiful +as clear depths of water, and obtained leave to visit her the next day; +when he was bent on telling her that he adored her, and on asking +her to marry him. He knew that this was like the sudden impulse +of a madman--incongruous even with his habitual foibles. No matter! +It was the one thing which he was resolved to do. He had two selves +within him apparently, and they must learn to accommodate each other +and bear reciprocal impediments. Strange, that some of us, with quick +alternate vision, see beyond our infatuations, and even while we +rave on the heights, behold the wide plain where our persistent +self pauses and awaits us. + +To have approached Laure with any suit that was not reverentially +tender would have been simply a contradiction of his whole feeling +towards her. + +"You have come all the way from Paris to find me?" she said to him +the next day, sitting before him with folded arms, and looking +at him with eyes that seemed to wonder as an untamed ruminating +animal wonders. "Are all Englishmen like that?" + +"I came because I could not live without trying to see you. +You are lonely; I love you; I want you to consent to be my wife; +I will wait, but I want you to promise that you will marry me-- +no one else." + +Laure looked at him in silence with a melancholy radiance from +under her grand eyelids, until he was full of rapturous certainty, +and knelt close to her knees. + +"I will tell you something," she said, in her cooing way, +keeping her arms folded. "My foot really slipped." + +"I know, I know," said Lydgate, deprecatingly. "It was a fatal accident-- +a dreadful stroke of calamity that bound me to you the more." + +Again Laure paused a little and then said, slowly, "I MEANT +TO DO IT." + +Lydgate, strong man as he was, turned pale and trembled: +moments seemed to pass before he rose and stood at a distance from her. + +"There was a secret, then," he said at last, even vehemently. +"He was brutal to you: you hated him." + +"No! he wearied me; he was too fond: he would live in Paris, +and not in my country; that was not agreeable to me." + +"Great God!" said Lydgate, in a groan of horror. "And you planned +to murder him?" + +"I did not plan: it came to me in the play--I MEANT TO DO IT." + +Lydgate stood mute, and unconsciously pressed his hat on while he +looked at her. He saw this woman--the first to whom he had given +his young adoration--amid the throng of stupid criminals. + +"You are a good young man," she said. "But I do not like husbands. +I will never have another." + +Three days afterwards Lydgate was at his galvanism again in his +Paris chambers, believing that illusions were at an end for him. +He was saved from hardening effects by the abundant kindness +of his heart and his belief that human life might be made better. +But he had more reason than ever for trusting his judgment, +now that it was so experienced; and henceforth he would take +a strictly scientific view of woman, entertaining no expectations +but such as were justified beforehand. + +No one in Middle march was likely to have such a notion of Lydgate's +past as has here been faintly shadowed, and indeed the respectable +townsfolk there were not more given than mortals generally to any +eager attempt at exactness in the representation to themselves +of what did not come under their own senses. Not only young virgins +of that town, but gray-bearded men also, were often in haste to +conjecture how a new acquaintance might be wrought into their purposes, +contented with very vague knowledge as to the way in which life had +been shaping him for that instrumentality. Middlemarch, in fact, +counted on swallowing Lydgate and assimilating him very comfortably. + +CHAPTER XVI. + + "All that in woman is adored + In thy fair self I find-- + For the whole sex can but afford + The handsome and the kind." + --SIR CHARLES SEDLEY. + +The question whether Mr. Tyke should be appointed as salaried +chaplain to the hospital was an exciting topic to the Middlemarchers; +and Lydgate heard it discussed in a way that threw much light +on the power exercised in the town by Mr. Bulstrode. The banker +was evidently a ruler, but there was an opposition party, +and even among his supporters there were some who allowed it to be +seen that their support was a compromise, and who frankly stated +their impression that the general scheme of things, and especially +the casualties of trade, required you to hold a candle to the devil. + +Mr. Bulstrode's power was not due simply to his being a country banker, +who knew the financial secrets of most traders in the town and could +touch the springs of their credit; it was fortified by a beneficence +that was at once ready and severe--ready to confer obligations, +and severe in watching the result. He had gathered, as an industrious +man always at his post, a chief share in administering the town +charities, and his private charities were both minute and abundant. +He would take a great deal of pains about apprenticing Tegg the +shoemaker's son, and he would watch over Tegg's church-going; he would +defend Mrs. Strype the washerwoman against Stubbs's unjust exaction +on the score of her drying-ground, and he would himself-scrutinize +a calumny against Mrs. Strype. His private minor loans were numerous, +but he would inquire strictly into the circumstances both before +and after. In this way a man gathers a domain in his neighbors' +hope and fear as well as gratitude; and power, when once it has +got into that subtle region, propagates itself, spreading out +of all proportion to its external means. It was a principle with +Mr. Bulstrode to gain as much power as possible, that he might use +it for the glory of God. He went through a great deal of spiritual +conflict and inward argument in order to adjust his motives, and make +clear to himself what God's glory required. But, as we have seen, +his motives were not always rightly appreciated. There were many +crass minds in Middlemarch whose reflective scales could only weigh +things in the lump; and they had a strong suspicion that since +Mr. Bulstrode could not enjoy life in their fashion, eating and +drinking so little as he did, and worreting himself about everything, +he must have a sort of vampire's feast in the sense of mastery. + +The subject of the chaplaincy came up at Mr. Vincy's table when Lydgate +was dining there, and the family connection with Mr. Bulstrode +did not, he observed, prevent some freedom of remark even on the +part of the host himself, though his reasons against the proposed +arrangement turned entirely on his objection to Mr. Tyke's sermons, +which were all doctrine, and his preference for Mr. Farebrother, +whose sermons were free from that taint. Mr. Vincy liked well enough +the notion of the chaplain's having a salary, supposing it were given +to Farebrother, who was as good a little fellow as ever breathed, +and the best preacher anywhere, and companionable too. + +"What line shall you take, then?" said Mr. Chichely, the coroner, +a great coursing comrade of Mr. Vincy's. + +"Oh, I'm precious glad I'm not one of the Directors now. +I shall vote for referring the matter to the Directors and the +Medical Board together. I shall roll some of my responsibility +on your shoulders, Doctor," said Mr. Vincy, glancing first at +Dr. Sprague, the senior physician of the town, and then at +Lydgate who sat opposite. "You medical gentlemen must consult +which sort of black draught you will prescribe, eh, Mr. Lydgate?" + +"I know little of either," said Lydgate; "but in general, +appointments are apt to be made too much a question of personal liking. +The fittest man for a particular post is not always the best +fellow or the most agreeable. Sometimes, if you wanted to get +a reform, your only way would be to pension off the good fellows +whom everybody is fond of, and put them out of the question." + +Dr. Sprague, who was considered the physician of most "weight," +though Dr. Minchin was usually said to have more "penetration," +divested his large heavy face of all expression, and looked +at his wine-glass while Lydgate was speaking. Whatever was not +problematical and suspected about this young man--for example, +a certain showiness as to foreign ideas, and a disposition +to unsettle what had been settled and forgotten by his elders-- +was positively unwelcome to a physician whose standing had been fixed +thirty years before by a treatise on Meningitis, of which at least +one copy marked "own" was bound in calf. For my part I have some +fellow-feeling with Dr. Sprague: one's self-satisfaction is an +untaxed kind of property which it is very unpleasant to find deprecated. + +Lydgate's remark, however, did not meet the sense of the company. +Mr. Vincy said, that if he could have HIS way, he would not put +disagreeable fellows anywhere. + +"Hang your reforms!" said Mr. Chichely. "There's no greater humbug +in the world. You never hear of a reform, but it means some trick +to put in new men. I hope you are not one of the `Lancet's' men, +Mr. Lydgate--wanting to take the coronership out of the hands +of the legal profession: your words appear to point that way." + +"I disapprove of Wakley," interposed Dr. Sprague, "no man more: +he is an ill-intentioned fellow, who would sacrifice the +respectability of the profession, which everybody knows depends +on the London Colleges, for the sake of getting some notoriety +for himself. There are men who don't mind about being kicked blue +if they can only get talked about. But Wakley is right sometimes," +the Doctor added, judicially. "I could mention one or two points +in which Wakley is in the right." + +"Oh, well," said Mr. Chichely, "I blame no man for standing up in favor +of his own cloth; but, coming to argument, I should like to know +how a coroner is to judge of evidence if he has not had a legal training?" + +"In my opinion," said Lydgate, "legal training only makes a man more +incompetent in questions that require knowledge a of another kind. +People talk about evidence as if it could really be weighed in scales +by a blind Justice. No man can judge what is good evidence on any +particular subject, unless he knows that subject well. A lawyer +is no better than an old woman at a post-mortem examination. +How is he to know the action of a poison? You might as well say +that scanning verse will teach you to scan the potato crops." + +"You are aware, I suppose, that it is not the coroner's business +to conduct the post-mortem, but only to take the evidence +of the medical witness?" said Mr. Chichely, with some scorn. + +"Who is often almost as ignorant as the coroner himself," said Lydgate. +"Questions of medical jurisprudence ought not to be left to the chance +of decent knowledge in a medical witness, and the coroner ought not +to be a man who will believe that strychnine will destroy the coats +of the stomach if an ignorant practitioner happens to tell him so." + +Lydgate had really lost sight of the fact that Mr. Chichely was +his Majesty's coroner, and ended innocently with the question, +"Don't you agree with me, Dr. Sprague?" + +"To a certain extent--with regard to populous districts, and in +the metropolis," said the Doctor. "But I hope it will be long before +this part of the country loses the services of my friend Chichely, +even though it might get the best man in our profession to succeed him. +I am sure Vincy will agree with me." + +"Yes, yes, give me a coroner who is a good coursing man," +said Mr. Vincy, jovially. "And in my opinion, +you're safest with a lawyer. Nobody can know everything. +Most things are `visitation of God.' And as to poisoning, +why, what you want to know is the law. Come, shall we join the ladies?" + +Lydgate's private opinion was that Mr. Chichely might be the +very coroner without bias as to the coats of the stomach, but he +had not meant to be personal. This was one of the difficulties +of moving in good Middlemarch society: it was dangerous to insist +on knowledge as a qualification for any salaried office. Fred Vincy +had called Lydgate a prig, and now Mr. Chichely was inclined +to call him prick-eared; especially when, in the drawing-room, +he seemed to be making himself eminently agreeable to Rosamond, +whom he had easily monopolized in a tete-a-tete, since Mrs. Vincy +herself sat at the tea-table. She resigned no domestic function +to her daughter; and the matron's blooming good-natured face, +with the two volatile pink strings floating from her fine throat, +and her cheery manners to husband and children, was certainly among +the great attractions of the Vincy house--attractions which made +it all the easier to fall in love with the daughter. The tinge +of unpretentious, inoffensive vulgarity in Mrs. Vincy gave more effect +to Rosamond's refinement, which was beyond what Lydgate had expected. + +Certainly, small feet and perfectly turned shoulders aid the +impression of refined manners, and the right thing said seems +quite astonishingly right when it is accompanied with exquisite +curves of lip and eyelid. And Rosamond could say the right thing; +for she was clever with that sort of cleverness which catches every +tone except the humorous. Happily she never attempted to joke, +and this perhaps was the most decisive mark of her cleverness. + +She and Lydgate readily got into conversation. He regretted +that he had not heard her sing the other day at Stone Court. +The only pleasure he allowed himself during the latter part of his +stay in Paris was to go and hear music. + +"You have studied music, probably?" said Rosamond. + +"No, I know the notes of many birds, and I know many melodies by ear; +but the music that I don't know at all, and have no notion about, +delights me--affects me. How stupid the world is that it does not +make more use of such a pleasure within its reach!" + +"Yes, and you will find Middlemarch very tuneless. There are hardly +any good musicians. I only know two gentlemen who sing at all well." + +"I suppose it is the fashion to sing comic songs in a rhythmic way, +leaving you to fancy the tune--very much as if it were tapped on +a drum?" + +"Ah, you have heard Mr. Bowyer," said Rosamond, with one of her +rare smiles. "But we are speaking very ill of our neighbors." + +Lydgate was almost forgetting that he must carry on the conversation, +in thinking how lovely this creature was, her garment seeming to be made +out of the faintest blue sky, herself so immaculately blond, as if +the petals of some gigantic flower had just opened and disclosed her; +and yet with this infantine blondness showing so much ready, +self-possessed grace. Since he had had the memory of Laure, +Lydgate had lost all taste for large-eyed silence: the divine +cow no longer attracted him, and Rosamond was her very opposite. +But he recalled himself. + +"You will let me hear some music to-night, I hope." + +"I will let you hear my attempts, if you like," said Rosamond. +"Papa is sure to insist on my singing. But I shall tremble before you, +who have heard the best singers in Paris. I have heard very little: +I have only once been to London. But our organist at St. Peter's +is a good musician, and I go on studying with him." + +"Tell me what you saw in London." + +"Very little." (A more naive girl would have said, "Oh, everything!" +But Rosamond knew better.) "A few of the ordinary sights, such as raw +country girls are always taken to." + +"Do you call yourself a raw country girl?" said Lydgate, looking at +her with an involuntary emphasis of admiration, which made Rosamond +blush with pleasure. But she remained simply serious, turned her long +neck a little, and put up her hand to touch her wondrous hair-plaits-- +an habitual gesture with her as pretty as any movements of a +kitten's paw. Not that Rosamond was in the least like a kitten: +she was a sylph caught young and educated at Mrs. Lemon's. + +"I assure you my mind is raw," she said immediately; "I pass +at Middlemarch. I am not afraid of talking to our old neighbors. +But I am really afraid of you." + +"An accomplished woman almost always knows more than we men, +though her knowledge is of a different sort. I am sure you could +teach me a thousand things--as an exquisite bird could teach a bear +if there were any common language between them. Happily, there is +a common language between women and men, and so the bears can +get taught." + +"Ah, there is Fred beginning to strum! I must go and hinder +him from jarring all your nerves," said Rosamond, moving to the +other side of the room, where Fred having opened the piano, +at his father's desire, that Rosamond might give them some music, +was parenthetically performing "Cherry Ripe!" with one hand. Able men +who have passed their examinations will do these things sometimes, +not less than the plucked Fred. + +"Fred, pray defer your practising till to-morrow; you will make +Mr. Lydgate ill," said Rosamond. "He has an ear." + +Fred laughed, and went on with his tune to the end. + +Rosamond turned to Lydgate, smiling gently, and said, "You perceive, +the bears will not always be taught." + +"Now then, Rosy!" said Fred, springing from the stool and twisting +it upward for her, with a hearty expectation of enjoyment. +"Some good rousing tunes first." + +Rosamond played admirably. Her master at Mrs. Lemon's school +(close to a county town with a memorable history that had its +relics in church and castle) was one of those excellent musicians +here and there to be found in our provinces, worthy to compare +with many a noted Kapellmeister in a country which offers more +plentiful conditions of musical celebrity. Rosamond, with the +executant's instinct, had seized his manner of playing, and gave +forth his large rendering of noble music with the precision +of an echo. It was almost startling, heard for the first time. +A hidden soul seemed to be flowing forth from Rosamond's fingers; +and so indeed it was, since souls live on in perpetual echoes, +and to all fine expression there goes somewhere an originating activity, +if it be only that of an interpreter. Lydgate was taken possession of, +and began to believe in her as something exceptional. After all, +he thought, one need not be surprised to find the rare conjunctions +of nature under circumstances apparently unfavorable: come where +they may, they always depend on conditions that are not obvious. +He sat looking at her, and did not rise to pay her any compliments, +leaving that to others, now that his admiration was deepened. + +Her singing was less remarkable? but also well trained, and sweet +to hear as a chime perfectly in tune. It is true she sang "Meet +me by moonlight," and "I've been roaming;" for mortals must share +the fashions of their time, and none but the ancients can be +always classical. But Rosamond could also sing "Black-eyed Susan" +with effect, or Haydn's canzonets, or "Voi, che sapete," +or "Batti, batti"--she only wanted to know what her audience liked. + +Her father looked round at the company, delighting in their admiration. +Her mother sat, like a Niobe before her troubles, with her youngest +little girl on her lap, softly beating the child's hand up and +down in time to the music. And Fred, notwithstanding his general +scepticism about Rosy, listened to her music with perfect allegiance, +wishing he could do the same thing on his flute. It was the pleasantest +family party that Lydgate had seen since he came to Middlemarch. +The Vincys had the readiness to enjoy, the rejection of all anxiety, +and the belief in life as a merry lot, which made a house exceptional +in most county towns at that time, when Evangelicalism had east +a certain suspicion as of plague-infection over the few amusements +which survived in the provinces. At the Vincys' there was always whist, +and the card-tables stood ready now, making some of the company secretly +impatient of the music. Before it ceased Mr. Farebrother came in-- +a handsome, broad-chested but otherwise small man, about forty, +whose black was very threadbare: the brilliancy was all in his +quick gray eyes. He came like a pleasant change in the light, +arresting little Louisa with fatherly nonsense as she was being +led out of the room by Miss Morgan, greeting everybody with some +special word, and seeming to condense more talk into ten minutes +than had been held all through the evening. He claimed from +Lydgate the fulfilment of a promise to come and see him. "I can't +let you off, you know, because I have some beetles to show you. +We collectors feel an interest in every new man till he has seen +all we have to show him." + +But soon he swerved to the whist-table, rubbing his hands and saying, +"Come now, let us be serious! Mr. Lydgate? not play? Ah! you are +too young and light for this kind of thing." + +Lydgate said to himself that the clergyman whose abilities were so +painful to Mr. Bulstrode, appeared to have found an agreeable resort +in this certainly not erudite household. He could half understand it: +the good-humor, the good looks of elder and younger, and the +provision for passing the time without any labor of intelligence, +might make the house beguiling to people who had no particular +use for their odd hours. + +Everything looked blooming and joyous except Miss Morgan, +who was brown, dull, and resigned, and altogether, as Mrs. Vincy +often said, just the sort of person for a governess. Lydgate did +not mean to pay many such visits himself. They were a wretched +waste of the evenings; and now, when he had talked a little +more to Rosamond, he meant to excuse himself and go. + +"You will not like us at Middlemarch, I feel sure," she said, +when the whist-players were settled. "We are very stupid, and you +have been used to something quite different." + +"I suppose all country towns are pretty much alike," said Lydgate. +"But I have noticed that one always believes one's own town +to be more stupid than any other. I have made up my mind to take +Middlemarch as it comes, and shall be much obliged if the town +will take me in the same way. I have certainly found some charms +in it which are much greater than I had expected." + +"You mean the rides towards Tipton and Lowick; every one is pleased +with those," said Rosamond, with simplicity. + +"No, I mean something much nearer to me." + +Rosamond rose and reached her netting, and then said, "Do you +care about dancing at all? I am not quite sure whether clever +men ever dance." + +"I would dance with you if you would allow me." + +"Oh!" said Rosamond, with a slight deprecatory laugh. "I was only +going to say that we sometimes have dancing, and I wanted to know +whether you would feel insulted if you were asked to come." + +"Not on the condition I mentioned." + +After this chat Lydgate thought that he was going, but on moving towards +the whist-tables, he got interested in watching Mr. Farebrother's play, +which was masterly, and also his face, which was a striking mixture +of the shrewd and the mild. At ten o'clock supper was brought in +(such were the customs of Middlemarch) and there was punch-drinking; +but Mr. Farebrother had only a glass of water. He was winning, +but there seemed to be no reason why the renewal of rubbers should end, +and Lydgate at last took his leave. + +But as it was not eleven o'clock, he chose to walk in the brisk +air towards the tower of St. Botolph's, Mr. Farebrother's church, +which stood out dark, square, and massive against the starlight. +It was the oldest church in Middlemarch; the living, however, was but +a vicarage worth barely four hundred a-year. Lydgate had heard that, +and he wondered now whether Mr. Farebrother cared about the money +he won at cards; thinking, "He seems a very pleasant fellow, +but Bulstrode may have his good reasons." Many things would be +easier to Lydgate if it should turn out that Mr. Bulstrode was +generally justifiable. "What is his religious doctrine to me, if he +carries some good notions along with it? One must use such brains +as are to be found." + +These were actually Lydgate's first meditations as he walked away from +Mr. Vincy's, and on this ground I fear that many ladies will consider +him hardly worthy of their attention. He thought of Rosamond and her +music only in the second place; and though, when her turn came, he dwelt +on the image of her for the rest of his walk, he felt no agitation, +and had no sense that any new current had set into his life. +He could not marry yet; he wished not to marry for several years; +and therefore he was not ready to entertain the notion of being +in love with a girl whom he happened to admire. He did admire +Rosamond exceedingly; but that madness which had once beset him about +Laure was not, he thought, likely to recur in relation to any other +woman Certainly, if falling in love had been at all in question, +it would have been quite safe with a creature like this Miss Vincy, +who had just the kind of intelligence one would desire in a woman-- +polished, refined, docile, lending itself to finish in all the +delicacies of life, and enshrined in a body which expressed this with +a force of demonstration that excluded the need for other evidence. +Lydgate felt sure that if ever he married, his wife would have +that feminine radiance, that distinctive womanhood which must be +classed with flowers and music, that sort of beauty which by its +very nature was virtuous, being moulded only for pure and delicate joys. + +But since he did not mean to marry for the next five years-- +his more pressing business was to look into Louis' new book on Fever, +which he was specially interested in, because he had known Louis +in Paris, and had followed many anatomical demonstrations in order +to ascertain the specific differences of typhus and typhoid. +He went home and read far into the smallest hour, bringing a much +more testing vision of details and relations into this pathological +study than he had ever thought it necessary to apply to the +complexities of love and marriage, these being subjects on which he +felt himself amply informed by literature, and that traditional +wisdom which is handed down in the genial conversation of men. +Whereas Fever had obscure conditions, and gave him that delightful +labor of the imagination which is not mere arbitrariness, but the +exercise of disciplined power--combining and constructing with the +clearest eye for probabilities and the fullest obedience to knowledge; +and then, in yet more energetic alliance with impartial Nature, +standing aloof to invent tests by which to try its own work. + +Many men have been praised as vividly imaginative on the strength +of their profuseness in indifferent drawing or cheap narration:-- +reports of very poor talk going on in distant orbs; or portraits +of Lucifer coming down on his bad errands as a large ugly man +with bat's wings and spurts of phosphorescence; or exaggerations +of wantonness that seem to reflect life in a diseased dream. +But these kinds of inspiration Lydgate regarded as rather vulgar +and vinous compared with the imagination that reveals subtle +actions inaccessible by any sort of lens, but tracked in that outer +darkness through long pathways of necessary sequence by the inward +light which is the last refinement of Energy, capable of bathing +even the ethereal atoms in its ideally illuminated space. +He for his part had tossed away all cheap inventions where ignorance +finds itself able and at ease: he was enamoured of that arduous +invention which is the very eye of research, provisionally framing +its object and correcting it to more and more exactness of relation; +he wanted to pierce the obscurity of those minute processes +which prepare human misery and joy, those invisible thoroughfares +which are the first lurking-places of anguish, mania, and crime, +that delicate poise and transition which determine the growth of happy +or unhappy consciousness. + +As he threw down his book, stretched his legs towards the embers +in the grate, and clasped his hands at the back of his head, +in that agreeable afterglow of excitement when thought lapses from +examination of a specific object into a suffusive sense of its +connections with all the rest of our existence--seems, as it were, +to throw itself on its back after vigorous swimming and float +with the repose of unexhausted strength--Lydgate felt a triumphant +delight in his studies, and something like pity for those less +lucky men who were not of his profession. + +"If I had not taken that turn when I was a lad," he thought, +"I might have got into some stupid draught-horse work or other, +and lived always in blinkers. I should never have been happy in any +profession that did not call forth the highest intellectual strain, +and yet keep me in good warm contact with my neighbors. There is +nothing like the medical profession for that: one can have the +exclusive scientific life that touches the distance and befriend the +old fogies in the parish too. It is rather harder for a clergyman: +Farebrother seems to be an anomaly." + +This last thought brought back the Vincys and all the pictures +of the evening. They floated in his mind agreeably enough, +and as he took up his bed-candle his lips were curled with that +incipient smile which is apt to accompany agreeable recollections. +He was an ardent fellow, but at present his ardor was absorbed in +love of his work and in the ambition of making his life recognized +as a factor in the better life of mankind--like other heroes of +science who had nothing but an obscure country practice to begin with. + +Poor Lydgate! or shall I say, Poor Rosamond! Each lived in a world +of which the other knew nothing. It had not occurred to Lydgate +that he had been a subject of eager meditation to Rosamond, +who had neither any reason for throwing her marriage into distant +perspective, nor any pathological studies to divert her mind from +that ruminating habit, that inward repetition of looks, words, +and phrases, which makes a large part in the lives of most girls. +He had not meant to look at her or speak to her with more than +the inevitable amount of admiration and compliment which a man +must give to a beautiful girl; indeed, it seemed to him that his +enjoyment of her music had remained almost silent, for he feared +falling into the rudeness of telling her his great surprise at her +possession of such accomplishment. But Rosamond had registered +every look and word, and estimated them as the opening incidents +of a preconceived romance--incidents which gather value from the +foreseen development and climax. In Rosamond's romance it was not +necessary to imagine much about the inward life of the hero, or of +his serious business in the world: of course, he had a profession +and was clever, as well as sufficiently handsome; but the piquant +fact about Lydgate was his good birth, which distinguished him +from all Middlemarch admirers, and presented marriage as a prospect +of rising in rank and getting a little nearer to that celestial +condition on earth in which she would have nothing to do with +vulgar people, and perhaps at last associate with relatives quite +equal to the county people who looked down on the Middlemarchers. +It was part of Rosamond's cleverness to discern very subtly the +faintest aroma of rank, and once when she had seen the Miss Brookes +accompanying their uncle at the county assizes, and seated among +the aristocracy, she had envied them, notwithstanding their plain dress. + +If you think it incredible that to imagine Lydgate as a man of family +could cause thrills of satisfaction which had anything to do with +the sense that she was in love with him, I will ask you to use your +power of comparison a little more effectively, and consider whether +red cloth and epaulets have never had an influence of that sort. +Our passions do not live apart in locked chambers, but, dressed in +their small wardrobe of notions, bring their provisions to a common +table and mess together, feeding out of the common store according +to their appetite. + +Rosamond, in fact, was entirely occupied not exactly with Tertius +Lydgate as he was in himself, but with his relation to her; and it +was excusable in a girl who was accustomed to hear that all young +men might, could, would be, or actually were in love with her, +to believe at once that Lydgate could be no exception. His looks +and words meant more to her than other men's, because she cared +more for them: she thought of them diligently, and diligently +attended to that perfection of appearance, behavior, sentiments, +and all other elegancies, which would find in Lydgate a more +adequate admirer than she had yet been conscious of. + +For Rosamond, though she would never do anything that was disagreeable +to her, was industrious; and now more than ever she was active in +sketching her landscapes and market-carts and portraits of friends, +in practising her music, and in being from morning till night her +own standard of a perfect lady, having always an audience in her +own consciousness, with sometimes the not unwelcome addition of a more +variable external audience in the numerous visitors of the house. +She found time also to read the best novels, and even the second best, +and she knew much poetry by heart. Her favorite poem was "Lalla Rookh." + +"The best girl in the world! He will be a happy fellow who gets her!" +was the sentiment of the elderly gentlemen who visited the Vincys; +and the rejected young men thought of trying again, as is the fashion +in country towns where the horizon is not thick with coming rivals. +But Mrs. Plymdale thought that Rosamond had been educated to a +ridiculous pitch, for what was the use of accomplishments which would +be all laid aside as soon as she was married? While her aunt Bulstrode, +who had a sisterly faithfulness towards her brother's family, +had two sincere wishes for Rosamond--that she might show a more +serious turn of mind, and that she might meet with a husband whose +wealth corresponded to her habits. + +CHAPTER XVII. + + "The clerkly person smiled and said + Promise was a pretty maid, + But being poor she died unwed." + +The Rev. Camden Farebrother, whom Lydgate went to see the +next evening, lived in an old parsonage, built of stone, +venerable enough to match the church which it looked out upon. +All the furniture too in the house was old, but with another +grade of age--that of Mr. Farebrother's father and grandfather. +There were painted white chairs, with gilding and wreaths on them, +and some lingering red silk damask with slits in it. There were +engraved portraits of Lord Chancellors and other celebrated lawyers +of the last century; and there were old pier-glasses to reflect them, +as well as the little satin-wood tables and the sofas resembling +a prolongation of uneasy chairs, all standing in relief against +the dark wainscot This was the physiognomy of the drawing-room into +which Lydgate was shown; and there were three ladies to receive him, +who were also old-fashioned, and of a faded but genuine respectability: +Mrs. Farebrother, the Vicar's white-haired mother, befrilled and +kerchiefed with dainty cleanliness, up right, quick-eyed, and +still under seventy; Miss Noble, her sister, a tiny old lady +of meeker aspect, with frills and kerchief decidedly more worn +and mended; and Miss Winifred Farebrother, the Vicar's elder sister, +well-looking like himself, but nipped and subdued as single women +are apt to be who spend their lives in uninterrupted subjection +to their elders. Lydgate had not expected to see so quaint a group: +knowing simply that Mr. Farebrother was a bachelor, he had thought +of being ushered into a snuggery where the chief furniture would +probably be books and collections of natural objects. The Vicar +himself seemed to wear rather a changed aspect, as most men do +when acquaintances made elsewhere see them for the first time +in their own homes; some indeed showing like an actor of genial +parts disadvantageously cast for the curmudgeon in a new piece. +This was not the case with Mr. Farebrother: he seemed a trifle milder +and more silent, the chief talker being his mother, while he only put +in a good-humored moderating remark here and there. The old lady +was evidently accustomed to tell her company what they ought to think, +and to regard no subject as quite safe without her steering. +She was afforded leisure for this function by having all her little +wants attended to by Miss Winifred. Meanwhile tiny Miss Noble +carried on her arm a small basket, into which she diverted a bit +of sugar, which she had first dropped in her saucer as if by mistake; +looking round furtively afterwards, and reverting to her teacup +with a small innocent noise as of a tiny timid quadruped. +Pray think no ill of Miss Noble. That basket held small savings +from her more portable food, destined for the children of her poor +friends among whom she trotted on fine mornings; fostering and +petting all needy creatures being so spontaneous a delight to her, +that she regarded it much as if it had been a pleasant vice that she +was addicted to. Perhaps she was conscious of being tempted to steal +from those who had much that she might give to those who had nothing, +and carried in her conscience the guilt of that repressed desire. +One must be poor to know the luxury of giving! + +Mrs. Farebrother welcomed the guest with a lively formality +and precision. She presently informed him that they were not often +in want of medical aid in that house. She had brought up her +children to wear flannel and not to over-eat themselves, which last +habit she considered the chief reason why people needed doctors. +Lydgate pleaded for those whose fathers and mothers had over-eaten +themselves, but Mrs. Farebrother held that view of things dangerous: +Nature was more just than that; it would be easy for any felon +to say that his ancestors ought to have been hanged instead of him. +If those he had bad fathers and mothers were bad themselves, they were +hanged for that. There was no need to go back on what you couldn't see. + +"My mother is like old George the Third," said the Vicar, +"she objects to metaphysics." + +"I object to what is wrong, Camden. I say, keep hold of a +few plain truths, and make everything square with them. When I was young, +Mr. Lydgate, there never was any question about right and wrong. +We knew our catechism, and that was enough; we learned our creed and +our duty. Every respectable Church person had the same opinions. +But now, if you speak out of the Prayer-book itself, you are liable +to be contradicted." + +"That makes rather a pleasant time of it for those who like +to maintain their own point," said Lydgate. + +"But my mother always gives way," said the Vicar, slyly. + +"No, no, Camden, you must not lead Mr. Lydgate into a mistake about +ME. I shall never show that disrespect to my parents, to give +up what they taught me. Any one may see what comes of turning. +If you change once, why not twenty times?" + +"A man might see good arguments for changing once, and not see +them for changing again," said Lydgate, amused with the decisive +old lady. + +"Excuse me there. If you go upon arguments, they are never wanting, +when a man has no constancy of mind. My father never changed, and he +preached plain moral sermons without arguments, and was a good man-- +few better. When you get me a good man made out of arguments, +I will get you a good dinner with reading you the cookery-book. That's +my opinion, and I think anybody's stomach will bear me out." + +"About the dinner certainly, mother," said Mr. Farebrother. + +"It is the same thing, the dinner or the man. I am nearly seventy, +Mr. Lydgate, and I go upon experience. I am not likely to follow +new lights, though there are plenty of them here as elsewhere. +I say, they came in with the mixed stuffs that will neither wash +nor wear. It was not so in my youth: a Churchman was a Churchman, +and a clergyman, you might be pretty sure, was a gentleman, +if nothing else. But now he may be no better than a Dissenter, +and want to push aside my son on pretence of doctrine. But whoever +may wish to push him aside, I am proud to say, Mr. Lydgate, +that he will compare with any preacher in this kingdom, not to speak +of this town, which is but a low standard to go by; at least, +to my thinking, for I was born and bred at Exeter." + +"A mother is never partial," said Mr. Farebrother, smiling. +"What do you think Tyke's mother says about him?" + +"Ah, poor creature! what indeed?" said Mrs. Farebrother, her sharpness +blunted for the moment by her confidence in maternal judgments. +"She says the truth to herself, depend upon it." + +"And what is the truth?" said-Lydgate. "I am curious to know." + +"Oh, nothing bad at all," said Mr. Farebrother. "He is a +zealous fellow: not very learned, and not very wise, I think-- +because I don't agree with him." + +"Why, Camden!" said Miss Winifred, "Griffin and his wife told me +only to-day, that Mr. Tyke said they should have no more coals +if they came to hear you preach." + +Mrs. Farebrother laid down her knitting, which she had resumed after +her small allowance of tea and toast, and looked at her son as if to +say "You hear that?" Miss Noble said, "Oh poor things! poor things!" +in reference, probably, to the double loss of preaching and coal. +But the Vicar answered quietly-- + +"That is because they are not my parishioners. And I don't think +my sermons are worth a load of coals to them." + +"Mr. Lydgate," said Mrs. Farebrother, who could not let this pass, +"you don't know my son: he always undervalues himself. I tell +him he is undervaluing the God who made him, and made him a most +excellent preacher." + +"That must be a hint for me to take Mr. Lydgate away to +my study, mother," said the Vicar, laughing. "I promised +to show you my collection," he added, turning to Lydgate; "shall we go?" + +All three ladies remonstrated. Mr. Lydgate ought not to be +hurried away without being allowed to accept another cup of tea: +Miss Winifred had abundance of good tea in the pot. Why was Camden +in such haste to take a visitor to his den? There was nothing +but pickled vermin, and drawers full of blue-bottles and moths, +with no carpet on the floor. Mr. Lydgate must excuse it. A game +at cribbage would be far better. In short, it was plain that a vicar +might be adored by his womankind as the king of men and preachers, +and yet be held by them to stand in much need of their direction. +Lydgate, with the usual shallowness of a young bachelor. +wondered that Mr. Farebrother had not taught them better. + +"My mother is not used to my having visitors who can take any interest +in my hobbies," said the Vicar, as he opened the door of his study, +which was indeed as bare of luxuries for the body as the ladies +had implied, unless a short porcelain pipe and a tobacco-box were +to be excepted. + +"Men of your profession don't generally smoke," he said. Lydgate smiled +and shook his head. "Nor of mine either, properly, I suppose. +You will hear that pipe alleged against me by Bulstrode and Company. +They don't know how pleased the devil would be if I gave it up." + +"I understand. You are of an excitable temper and want a sedative. +I am heavier, and should get idle with it. I should rush into idleness, +and stagnate there with all my might." + +"And you mean to give it all to your work. I am some ten +or twelve years older than you, and have come to a compromise. +I feed a weakness or two lest they should get clamorous. See," +continued the Vicar, opening several small drawers, "I fancy I +have made an exhaustive study of the entomology of this district. +I am going on both with the fauna and flora; but I have at least +done my insects well. We are singularly rich in orthoptera: +I don't know whether--Ah! you have got hold of that glass jar-- +you are looking into that instead of my drawers. You don't really +care about these things?" + +"Not by the side of this lovely anencephalous monster. +I have never had time to give myself much to natural history. +I was early bitten with an interest in structure, and it is what +lies most directly in my profession. I have no hobby besides. +I have the sea to swim in there." + +"Ah! you are a happy fellow," said Mr. Farebrother, turning on his +heel and beginning to fill his pipe. "You don't know what it is +to want spiritual tobacco--bad emendations of old texts, or small +items about a variety of Aphis Brassicae, with the well-known +signature of Philomicron, for the `Twaddler's Magazine;' or a learned +treatise on the entomology of the Pentateuch, including all the +insects not mentioned, but probably met with by the Israelites +in their passage through the desert; with a monograph on the Ant, +as treated by Solomon, showing the harmony of the Book of Proverbs +with the results of modern research. You don't mind my fumigating you?" + +Lydgate was more surprised at the openness of this talk than at its +implied meaning--that the Vicar felt himself not altogether in the +right vocation. The neat fitting-up of drawers and shelves, and the +bookcase filled with expensive illustrated books on Natural History, +made him think again of the winnings at cards and their destination. +But he was beginning to wish that the very best construction +of everything that Mr. Farebrother did should be the true one. +The Vicar's frankness seemed not of the repulsive sort Chat comes +from an uneasy consciousness seeking to forestall the judgment +of others, but simply the relief of a desire to do with as little +pretence as possible. Apparently he was not without a sense that +his freedom of speech might seem premature, for he presently said-- + +"I have not yet told you that I have the advantage of you, +Mr. Lydgate, and know you better than you know me. You remember +Trawley who shared your apartment at Paris for some time? +I was a correspondent of his, and he told me a good deal about you. +I was not quite sure when you first came that you were the same man. +I was very glad when I found that you were. Only I don't forget +that you have not had the like prologue about me." + +Lydgate divined some delicacy of feeling here, but did not half +understand it. "By the way," he said, "what has become of Trawley? +I have quite lost sight of him. He was hot on the French +social systems, and talked of going to the Backwoods to found +a sort of Pythagorean community. Is he gone?" + +"Not at all. He is practising at a German bath, and has married +a rich patient." + +Then my notions wear the best, so far," said Lydgate, with a +short scornful laugh. "He would have it, the medical profession was +an inevitable system of humbug. I said, the fault was in the men-- +men who truckle to lies and folly. Instead of preaching against +humbug outside the walls, it might be better to set up a disinfecting +apparatus within. In short--I am reporting my own conversation-- +you may be sure I had all the good sense on my side." + +"Your scheme is a good deal more difficult to carry out than the +Pythagorean community, though. You have not only got the old Adam +in yourself against you, but you have got all those descendants +of the original Adam who form the society around you. You see, +I have paid twelve or thirteen years more than you for my knowledge +of difficulties. But"--Mr. Farebrother broke off a moment, +and then added, "you are eying that glass vase again. Do you want +to make an exchange? You shall not have it without a fair barter." + +"I have some sea-mice--fine specimens--in spirits. And I will +throw in Robert Brown's new thing--`Microscopic Observations +on the Pollen of Plants'--if you don't happen to have it already." + +"Why, seeing how you long for the monster, I might ask a higher price. +Suppose I ask you to look through my drawers and agree with me +about all my new species?" The Vicar, while he talked in this way, +alternately moved about with his pipe in his mouth, and returned to hang +rather fondly over his drawers. "That would be good discipline, you know, +for a young doctor who has to please his patients in Middlemarch. +You must learn to be bored, remember. However, you shall have +the monster on your own terms." + +"Don't you think men overrate the necessity for humoring everybody's +nonsense, till they get despised by the very fools they humor?" +said Lydgate, moving to Mr. Farebrother's side, and looking rather +absently at the insects ranged in fine gradation, with names subscribed +in exquisite writing. "The shortest way is to make your value felt, +so that people must put up with you whether you flatter them or not." + +"With all my heart. But then you must be sure of having the value, +and you must keep yourself independent. Very few men can do that. +Either you slip out of service altogether, and become good for nothing, +or you wear the harness and draw a good deal where your yoke-fellows +pull you. But do look at these delicate orthoptera!" + +Lydgate had after all to give some scrutiny to each drawer, +the Vicar laughing at himself, and yet persisting in the exhibition. + +"Apropos of what you said about wearing harness," Lydgate began, +after they had sat down, "I made up my mind some time ago to do +with as little of it as-possible. That was why I determined not to +try anything in London, for a good many years at least. I didn't +like what I saw when I was studying there--so much empty bigwiggism, +and obstructive trickery. In the country, people have less pretension +to knowledge, and are less of companions, but for that reason they +affect one's amour-propre less: one makes less bad blood, +and can follow one's own course more quietly." + +"Yes--well--you have got a good start; you are in the right profession, +the work you feel yourself most fit for. Some people miss that, +and repent too late. But you must not be too sure of keeping +your independence." + +"You mean of family ties?" said Lydgate, conceiving that these +might press rather tightly on Mr. Farebrother. + +"Not altogether. Of course they make many things more difficult. +But a good wife--a good unworldly woman--may really help a man, +and keep him more independent. There's a parishioner of mine-- +a fine fellow, but who would hardly have pulled through as he has done +without his wife. Do you know the Garths? I think they were not +Peacock's patients." + +"No; but there is a Miss Garth at old Featherstone's, at Lowick." + +"Their daughter: an excellent girl." + +"She is very quiet--I have hardly noticed her." + +"She has taken notice of you, though, depend upon it." + +"I don't understand," said Lydgate; he could hardly say "Of course." + +"Oh, she gauges everybody. I prepared her for confirmation-- +she is a favorite of mine." + +Mr. Farebrother puffed a few moments in silence, Lydgate not caring +to know more about the Garths. At last the Vicar laid down his pipe, +stretched out his legs, and turned his bright eyes with a smile +towards Lydgate, saying-- + +"But we Middlemarchers are not so tame as you take us to be. +We have our intrigues and our parties. I am a party man, +for example, and Bulstrode is another. If you vote for me you +will offend Bulstrode." + +"What is there against Bulstrode?" said Lydgate, emphatically. + +"I did not say there was anything against him except that. +If you vote against him you will make him your enemy." + +"I don't know that I need mind about that," said Lydgate, +rather proudly; "but he seems to have good ideas about hospitals, +and he spends large sums on useful public objects. He might help me +a good deal in carrying out my ideas. As to his religious notions-- +why, as Voltaire said, incantations will destroy a flock of sheep +if administered with a certain quantity of arsenic. I look for the +man who will bring the arsenic, and don't mind about his incantations." + +"Very good. But then you must not offend your arsenic-man. You will +not offend me, you know," said Mr. Farebrother, quite unaffectedly. +"I don't translate my own convenience into other people's duties. +I am opposed to Bulstrode in many ways. I don't like the set +he belongs to: they are a narrow ignorant set, and do more to +make their neighbors uncomfortable than to make them better. +Their system is a sort of worldly-spiritual cliqueism: they really +look on the rest of mankind as a doomed carcass which is to nourish +them for heaven. But," he added, smilingly, "I don't say that +Bulstrode's new hospital is a bad thing; and as to his wanting to oust +me from the old one--why, if he thinks me a mischievous fellow, +he is only returning a compliment. And I am not a model clergyman-- +only a decent makeshift." + +Lydgate was not at all sure that the Vicar maligned himself. +A model clergyman, like a model doctor, ought to think his own +profession the finest in the world, and take all knowledge as mere +nourishment to his moral pathology and therapeutics. He only said, +"What reason does Bulstrode give for superseding you?" + +"That I don't teach his opinions--which he calls spiritual religion; +and that I have no time to spare. Both statements are true. +But then I could make time, and I should be glad of the forty pounds. +That is the plain fact of the case. But let us dismiss it. +I only wanted to tell you that if you vote for your arsenic-man, +you are not to cut me in consequence. I can't spare you. +You are a sort of circumnavigator come to settle among us, and will +keep up my belief in the antipodes. Now tell me all about them +in Paris." + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + "Oh, sir, the loftiest hopes on earth + Draw lots with meaner hopes: heroic breasts, + Breathing bad air, ran risk of pestilence; + Or, lacking lime-juice when they cross the Line, + May languish with the scurvy." + +Some weeks passed after this conversation before the question of the +chaplaincy gathered any practical import for Lydgate, and without telling +himself the reason, he deferred the predetermination on which side he +should give his vote. It would really have been a matter of total +indifference to him--that is to say, he would have taken the more +convenient side, and given his vote for the appointment of Tyke without +any hesitation--if he had not cared personally for Mr. Farebrother. + +But his liking for the Vicar of St. Botolph's grew with +growing acquaintanceship. That, entering into Lydgate's position +as a new-comer who had his own professional objects to secure, +Mr. Farebrother should have taken pains rather to warn off than +to obtain his interest, showed an unusual delicacy and generosity, +which Lydgate's nature was keenly alive to. It went along with other +points of conduct in Mr. Fare brother which were exceptionally fine, +and made his character resemble those southern landscapes which seem +divided between natural grandeur and social slovenliness. Very few +men could have been as filial and chivalrous as he was to the mother, +aunt, and sister, whose dependence on him had in many ways shaped +his life rather uneasily for himself; few men who feel the pressure +of small needs are so nobly resolute not to dress up their inevitably +self-interested desires in a pretext of better motives. In these +matters he was conscious that his life would bear the closest scrutiny; +and perhaps the consciousness encouraged a little defiance towards +the critical strictness of persons whose celestial intimacies +seemed not to improve their domestic manners, and whose lofty aims +were not needed to account for their actions. Then, his preaching +was ingenious and pithy, like the preaching of the English Church +in its robust age, and his sermons were delivered without book. +People outside his parish went to hear him; and, since to fill the +church was always the most difficult part of a clergyman's function, +here was another ground for a careless sense of superiority. +Besides, he was a likable man: sweet-tempered, ready-witted, frank, +without grins of suppressed bitterness or other conversational +flavors which make half of us an affliction to our friends. +Lydgate liked him heartily, and wished for his friendship. + +With this feeling uppermost, he continued to waive the question +of the chaplaincy, and to persuade himself that it was not only +no proper business of his, but likely enough never to vex him +with a demand for his vote. Lydgate, at Mr. Bulstrode's request, +was laying down plans for the internal arrangements of the new hospital, +and the two were often in consultation. The banker was always +presupposing that he could count in general on Lydgate as a coadjutor, +but made no special recurrence to the coming decision between Tyke +and Farebrother. When the General Board of the Infirmary had met, +however, and Lydgate had notice that the question of the chaplaincy +was thrown on a council of the directors and medical men, to meet +on the following Friday, he had a vexed sense that he must make up +his mind on this trivial Middlemarch business. He could not help +hearing within him the distinct declaration that Bulstrode was +prime minister, and that the Tyke affair was a question of office +or no office; and he could not help an equally pronounced dislike +to giving up the prospect of office. For his observation was +constantly confirming Mr. Farebrother's assurance that the banker +would not overlook opposition. "Confound their petty politics!" +was one of his thoughts for three mornings in the meditative +process of shaving, when he had begun to feel that he must really +hold a court of conscience on this matter. Certainly there were +valid things to be said against the election of Mr. Farebrother: +he had too much on his hands already, especially considering +how much time he spent on non-clerical occupations. Then again +it was a continually repeated shock, disturbing Lydgate's esteem, +that the Vicar should obviously play for the sake of money, +liking the play indeed, but evidently liking some end which it served. +Mr. Farebrother contended on theory for the desirability of all games, +and said that Englishmen's wit was stagnant for want of them; +but Lydgate felt certain that he would have played very much less +but for the money. There was a billiard-room at the Green Dragon, +which some anxious mothers and wives regarded as the chief temptation +in Middlemarch. The Vicar was a first-rate billiard-player, and +though he did not frequent the Green Dragon, there were reports +that he had sometimes been there in the daytime and had won money. +And as to the chaplaincy, he did not pretend that he cared for it, +except for the sake of the forty pounds. Lydgate was no Puritan, +but he did not care for play, and winning money at it had always +seemed a meanness to him; besides, he had an ideal of life which made +this subservience of conduct to the gaining of small sums thoroughly +hateful to him. Hitherto in his own life his wants had been supplied +without any trouble to himself, and his first impulse was always to be +liberal with half-crowns as matters of no importance to a gentleman; +it had never occurred to him to devise a plan for getting half-crowns. +He had always known in a general way that he was not rich, but he +had never felt poor, and he had no power of imagining the part +which the want of money plays in determining the actions of men. +Money had never been a motive to him. Hence he was not ready +to frame excuses for this deliberate pursuit of small gains. +It was altogether repulsive to him, and he never entered into any +calculation of the ratio between the Vicar's income and his more or +less necessary expenditure. It was possible that he would not have +made such a calculation in his own case. + +And now, when the question of voting had come, this repulsive fact +told more strongly against Mr. Farebrother than it had done before. +One would know much better what to do if men's characters were +more consistent, and especially if one's friends were invariably fit +for any function they desired to undertake! Lydgate was convinced +that if there had been no valid objection to Mr. Farebrother, he would +have voted for him, whatever Bulstrode might have felt on the subject: +he did not intend to be a vassal of Bulstrode's. On the other hand, +there was Tyke, a man entirely given to his clerical office, who was +simply curate at a chapel of ease in St. Peter's parish, and had +time for extra duty. Nobody had anything to say against Mr. Tyke, +except that they could not bear him, and suspected him of cant. +Really, from his point of view, Bulstrode was thoroughly justified. + +But whichever way Lydgate began to incline, there was something +to make him wince; and being a proud man, he was a little +exasperated at being obliged to wince. He did not like frustrating +his own best purposes by getting on bad terms with Bulstrode; +he did not like voting against Farebrother, and helping to deprive +him of function and salary; and the question occurred whether +the additional forty pounds might not leave the Vicar free from +that ignoble care about winning at cards. Moreover, Lydgate did +not like the consciousness that in voting for Tyke he should be +voting on the side obviously convenient for himself. But would +the end really be his own convenience? Other people would say so, +and would allege that he was currying favor with Bulstrode for the +sake of making himself important and getting on in the world. +What then? He for his own part knew that if his personal prospects +simply had been concerned, he would not have cared a rotten nut +for the banker's friendship or enmity. What he really cared for +was a medium for his work, a vehicle for his ideas; and after all, +was he not bound to prefer the object of getting a good hospital, +where he could demonstrate the specific distinctions of fever +and test therapeutic results, before anything else connected +with this chaplaincy? For the first time Lydgate was feeling +the hampering threadlike pressure of small social conditions, +and their frustrating complexity. At the end of his inward debate, +when he set out for the hospital, his hope was really in the chance +that discussion might somehow give a new aspect to the question, +and make the scale dip so as to exclude the necessity for voting. +I think he trusted a little also to the energy which is begotten +by circumstances--some feeling rushing warmly and making resolve easy, +while debate in cool blood had only made it more difficult. +However it was, he did not distinctly say to himself on which side he +would vote; and all the while he was inwardly resenting the subjection +which had been forced upon him. It would have seemed beforehand +like a ridiculous piece of bad logic that he, with his unmixed +resolutions of independence and his select purposes, would find +himself at the very outset in the grasp of petty alternatives, +each of which was repugnant to him. In his student's chambers, +he had prearranged his social action quite differently. + +Lydgate was late in setting out, but Dr. Sprague, the two other surgeons, +and several of the directors had arrived early; Mr. Bulstrode, +treasurer and chairman, being among those who were still absent. +The conversation seemed to imply that the issue was problematical, +and that a majority for Tyke was not so certain as had been generally +supposed. The two physicians, for a wonder, turned out to be unanimous, +or rather, though of different minds, they concurred in action. +Dr. Sprague, the rugged and weighty, was, as every one had foreseen, +an adherent of Mr. Farebrother. The Doctor was more than suspected +of having no religion, but somehow Middlemarch tolerated this +deficiency in him as if he had been a Lord Chancellor; indeed it +is probable that his professional weight was the more believed in, +the world-old association of cleverness with the evil principle being +still potent in the minds even of lady-patients who had the strictest +ideas of frilling and sentiment. It was perhaps this negation in the +Doctor which made his neighbors call him hard-headed and dry-witted; +conditions of texture which were also held favorable to the storing +of judgments connected with drugs. At all events, it is certain +that if any medical man had come to Middlemarch with the reputation +of having very definite religious views, of being given to prayer, +and of otherwise showing an active piety, there would have been +a general presumption against his medical skill. + +On this ground it was (professionally speaking) fortunate for +Dr. Minchin that his religious sympathies were of a general kind, +and such as gave a distant medical sanction to all serious sentiment, +whether of Church or Dissent, rather than any adhesion to +particular tenets. If Mr. Bulstrode insisted, as he was apt to do, +on the Lutheran doctrine of justification, as that by which a Church +must stand or fall, Dr. Minchin in return was quite sure that man +was not a mere machine or a fortuitous conjunction of atoms; +if Mrs. Wimple insisted on a particular providence in relation to her +stomach complaint, Dr. Minchin for his part liked to keep the mental +windows open and objected to fixed limits; if the Unitarian brewer +jested about the Athanasian Creed, Dr. Minchin quoted Pope's "Essay +on Man." He objected to the rather free style of anecdote in which +Dr. Sprague indulged, preferring well-sanctioned quotations, and liking +refinement of all kinds: it was generally known that he had some +kinship to a bishop, and sometimes spent his holidays at "the palace." + +Dr. Minchin was soft-handed, pale-complexioned, and of rounded outline, +not to be distinguished from a mild clergyman in appearance: +whereas Dr. Sprague was superfluously tall; his trousers got creased +at the knees, and showed an excess of boot at a time when straps seemed +necessary to any dignity of bearing; you heard him go in and out, +and up and down, as if he had come to see after the roofing. +In short, he had weight, and might be expected to grapple with a +disease and throw it; while Dr. Minchin might be better able to detect +it lurking and to circumvent it. They enjoyed about equally the +mysterious privilege of medical reputation, and concealed with much +etiquette their contempt for each other's skill. Regarding themselves +as Middlemarch institutions, they were ready to combine against +all innovators, and against non-professionals given to interference. +On this ground they were both in their hearts equally averse to +Mr. Bulstrode, though Dr. Minchin had never been in open hostility +with him, and never differed from him without elaborate explanation +to Mrs. Bulstrode, who had found that Dr. Minchin alone understood +her constitution. A layman who pried into the professional +conduct of medical men, and was always obtruding his reforms,-- +though he was less directly embarrassing to the two physicians +than to the surgeon-apothecaries who attended paupers by contract, +was nevertheless offensive to the professional nostril as such; +and Dr. Minchin shared fully in the new pique against Bulstrode, +excited by his apparent determination to patronize Lydgate. +The long-established practitioners, Mr. Wrench and Mr. Toller; +were just now standing apart and having a friendly colloquy, +in which they agreed that Lydgate was a jackanapes, just made to +serve Bulstrode's purpose. To non-medical friends they had already +concurred in praising the other young practitioner, who had come into +the town on Mr. Peacock's retirement without further recommendation +than his own merits and such argument for solid professional +acquirement as might be gathered from his having apparently wasted +no time on other branches of knowledge. It was clear that Lydgate, +by not dispensing drugs, intended to cast imputations on his equals, +and also to obscure the limit between his own rank as a general +practitioner and that of the physicians, who, in the interest +of the profession, felt bound to maintain its various grades,-- +especially against a man who had not been to either of the English +universities and enjoyed the absence of anatomical and bedside +study there, but came with a libellous pretension to experience +in Edinburgh and Paris, where observation might be abundant indeed, +but hardly sound. + +Thus it happened that on this occasion Bulstrode became identified +with Lydgate, and Lydgate with Tyke; and owing to this variety +of interchangeable names for the chaplaincy question, diverse minds +were enabled to form the same judgment concerning it. + +Dr. Sprague said at once bluntly. to the group assembled when +he entered, "I go for Farebrother. A salary, with all my heart. +But why take it from the Vicar? He has none too much--has to insure +his life, besides keeping house, and doing a vicar's charities. +Put forty pounds in his pocket and you'll do no harm. He's a +good fellow, is Farebrother, with as little of the parson about him +as will serve to carry orders." + +"Ho, ho! Doctor," said old Mr. Powderell, a retired iron-monger +of some standing--his interjection being something between a laugh +and a Parliamentary disapproval; "we must let you have your say. +But what we have to consider is not anybody's income--it's the souls +of the poor sick people"--here Mr. Powderell's voice and face had a +sincere pathos in them. "He is a real Gospel preacher, is Mr. Tyke. +I should vote against my conscience if I voted against Mr. Tyke-- +I should indeed." + +"Mr. Tyke's opponents have not asked any one to vote against +his conscience, I believe," said Mr. Hackbutt, a rich tanner +of fluent speech, whose glittering spectacles and erect hair +were turned with some severity towards innocent Mr. Powderell. +"But in my judgment it behoves us, as Directors, to consider whether +we will regard it as our whole business to carry out propositions +emanating from a single quarter. Will any member of the committee +aver that he would have entertained the idea of displacing the +gentleman who has always discharged the function of chaplain here, +if it had not been suggested to him by parties whose disposition +it is to regard every institution of this town as a machinery +for carrying out their own views? I tax no man's motives: +let them lie between himself and a higher Power; but I do say, +that there are influences at work here which are incompatible +with genuine independence, and that a crawling servility is +usually dictated by circumstances which gentlemen so conducting +themselves could not afford either morally or financially to avow. +I myself am a layman, but I have given no inconsiderable attention +to the divisions in the Church and--" + +"Oh, damn the divisions!" burst in Mr. Frank Hawley, lawyer and +town-clerk, who rarely presented himself at the board, but now looked +in hurriedly, whip in hand. "We have nothing to do with them here. +Farebrother has been doing the work--what there was--without pay, +and if pay is to be given, it should be given to him. I call it +a confounded job to take the thing away from Farebrother." + +"I think it would be as well for gentlemen not to give their +remarks a personal bearing," said Mr. Plymdale. "I shall vote +for the appointment of Mr. Tyke, but I should not have known, +if Mr. Hackbutt hadn't hinted it, that I was a Servile Crawler." + +"I disclaim any personalities. I expressly said, if I may be +allowed to repeat, or even to conclude what I was about to say--" + +"Ah, here's Minchin!" said Mr. Frank Hawley; at which everybody +turned away from Mr. Hackbutt, leaving him to feel the uselessness +of superior gifts in Middlemarch. "Come, Doctor, I must have you +on the right side, eh?" + +"I hope so," said Dr. Minchin, nodding and shaking hands here and there; +"at whatever cost to my feelings." + +"If there's any feeling here, it should be feeling for the man +who is turned out, I think," said Mr. Frank Hawley. + +"I confess I have feelings on the other side also. I have a +divided esteem," said Dr. Minchin, rubbing his hands. "I consider +Mr. Tyke an exemplary man--none more so--and I believe him to be +proposed from unimpeachable motives. I, for my part, wish that I +could give him my vote. But I am constrained to take a view of the +case which gives the preponderance to Mr. Farebrother's claims. +He is an amiable man, an able preacher, and has been longer among us." + +Old Mr. Powderell looked on, sad and silent. Mr. Plymdale settled +his cravat, uneasily. + +"You don't set up Farebrother as a pattern of what a clergyman +ought to be, I hope," said Mr. Larcher, the eminent carrier, +who had just come in. "I have no ill-will towards him, but I think +we owe something to the public, not to speak of anything higher, +in these appointments. In my opinion Farebrother is too lax for +a clergyman. I don't wish to bring up particulars against him; +but he will make a little attendance here go as far as he can." + +"And a devilish deal better than too much," said Mr. Hawley, +whose bad language was notorious in that part of the county. +"Sick people can't bear so much praying and preaching. +And that methodistical sort of religion is bad for the spirits-- +bad for the inside, eh?" he added, turning quickly round to the four +medical men who were assembled. + +But any answer was dispensed with by the entrance of three gentlemen, +with whom there were greetings more or less cordial. These were +the Reverend Edward Thesiger, Rector of St. Peter's, Mr. Bulstrode, +and our friend Mr. Brooke of Tipton, who had lately allowed himself +to be put on the board of directors in his turn, but had never before +attended, his attendance now being due to Mr. Bulstrode's exertions. +Lydgate was the only person still expected. + +Every one now sat down, Mr. Bulstrode presiding, pale and +self-restrained as usual. Mr. Thesiger, a moderate evangelical, +wished for the appointment of his friend Mr. Tyke, a zealous +able man, who, officiating at a chapel of ease, had not a cure +of souls too extensive to leave him ample time for the new duty. +It was desirable that chaplaincies of this kind should be entered +on with a fervent intention: they were peculiar opportunities +for spiritual influence; and while it was good that a salary should +be allotted, there was the more need for scrupulous watching lest +the office should be perverted into a mere question of salary. +Mr. Thesiger's manner had so much quiet propriety that objectors +could only simmer in silence. + +Mr. Brooke believed that everybody meant well in the matter. +He had not himself attended to the affairs of the Infirmary, though he +had a strong interest in whatever was for the benefit of Middlemarch, +and was most happy to meet the gentlemen present on any public question-- +"any public question, you know," Mr. Brooke repeated, with his nod +of perfect understanding. "I am a good deal occupied as a magistrate, +and in the collection of documentary evidence, but I regard my time +as being at the disposal of the public--and, in short, my friends +have convinced me that a chaplain with a salary--a salary, you know-- +is a very good thing, and I am happy to be able to come here and +vote for the appointment of Mr. Tyke, who, I understand, is an +unexceptionable man, apostolic and eloquent and everything of that kind-- +and I am the last man to withhold my vote--under the circumstances, +you know." + +"It seems to me that you have been crammed with one side of +the question, Mr. Brooke," said Mr. Frank Hawley, who was afraid +of nobody, and was a Tory suspicious of electioneering intentions. +"You don't seem to know that one of the worthiest men we have +has been doing duty as chaplain here for years without pay, +and that Mr. Tyke is proposed to supersede him." + +"Excuse me, Mr. Hawley," said Mr. Bulstrode. "Mr. Brooke has been +fully informed of Mr. Farebrother's character and position." + +"By his enemies," flashed out Mr. Hawley. + +"I trust there is no personal hostility concerned here," +said Mr. Thesiger. + +"I'll swear there is, though," retorted Mr. Hawley. + +"Gentlemen," said Mr. Bulstrode, in a subdued tone, "the merits +of the question may be very briefly stated, and if any one present +doubts that every gentleman who is about to give his vote has +not been fully informed, I can now recapitulate the considerations +that should weigh on either side." + +"I don't see the good of that," said Mr. Hawley. "I suppose we all +know whom we mean to vote for. Any man who wants to do justice does +not wait till the last minute to hear both sides of the question. +I have no time to lose, and I propose that the matter be put to the +vote at once." + +A brief but still hot discussion followed before each person wrote +"Tyke" or "Farebrother" on a piece of paper and slipped it into +a glass tumbler; and in the mean time Mr. Bulstrode saw Lydgate enter. + +"I perceive that the votes are equally divided at present," +said Mr. Bulstrode, in a clear biting voice. Then, looking up +at Lydgate-- + +"There is a casting-vote still to be given. It is yours, Mr. Lydgate: +will you be good enough to write?" + +"The thing is settled now," said Mr. Wrench, rising. "We all know +how Mr. Lydgate will vote." + +"You seem to speak with some peculiar meaning, sir," said Lydgate, +rather defiantly, and keeping his pencil suspended. + +"I merely mean that you are expected to vote with Mr. Bulstrode. +Do you regard that meaning as offensive?" + +"It may be offensive to others. But I shall not desist from voting +with him on that account." Lydgate immediately wrote down "Tyke." + +So the Rev. Walter Tyke became chaplain to the Infirmary, +and Lydgate continued to work with Mr. Bulstrode. He was really +uncertain whether Tyke were not the more suitable candidate, +and yet his consciousness told him that if he had been quite free +from indirect bias he should have voted for Mr. Farebrother. +The affair of the chaplaincy remained a sore point in his memory +as a case in which this petty medium of Middlemarch had been +too strong for him. How could a man be satisfied with a decision +between such alternatives and under such circumstances? No more +than he can be satisfied with his hat, which he has chosen from +among such shapes as the resources of the age offer him, wearing it +at best with a resignation which is chiefly supported by comparison. + +But Mr. Farebrother met him with the same friendliness as before. +The character of the publican and sinner is not always practically +incompatible with that of the modern Pharisee, for the majority of us +scarcely see more distinctly the faultiness of our own conduct than +the faultiness of our own arguments, or the dulness of our own jokes. +But the Vicar of St. Botolph's had certainly escaped the slightest +tincture of the Pharisee, and by dint of admitting to himself that he +was too much as other men were, he had become remarkably unlike them +in this--that he could excuse other; for thinking slightly of him, +and could judge impartially of their conduct even when it told +against him. + +"The world has been to strong for ME, I know," he said one +day to Lydgate. "But then I am not a mighty man--I shall never +be a man of renown. The choice of Hercules is a pretty fable; +but Prodicus makes it easy work for the hero, as if the first resolves +were enough. Another story says that he came to hold the distaff, +and at last wore the Nessus shirt. I suppose one good resolve +might keep a man right if everybody else's resolve helped him." + +The Vicar's talk was not always inspiriting: he had escaped +being a Pharisee, but he had not escaped that low estimate of +possibilities which we rather hastily arrive at as an inference +from our own failure. Lydgate thought that there was a pitiable +infirmity of will in Mr. Farebrother. + +CHAPTER XIX. + + "L' altra vedete ch'ha fatto alla guancia + Della sua palma, sospirando, letto." + --Purgatorio, vii. + +When George the Fourth was still reigning over the privacies of Windsor, +when the Duke of Wellington was Prime Minister, and Mr. Vincy +was mayor of the old corporation in Middlemarch, Mrs. Casaubon, +born Dorothea Brooke, had taken her wedding journey to Rome. +In those days the world in general was more ignorant of good and evil +by forty years than it is at present. Travellers did not often carry +full information on Christian art either in their heads or their pockets; +and even the most brilliant English critic of the day mistook the +flower-flushed tomb of the ascended Virgin for an ornamental vase +due to the painter's fancy. Romanticism, which has helped to fill +some dull blanks with love and knowledge, had not yet penetrated +the times with its leaven and entered into everybody's food; it was +fermenting still as a distinguishable vigorous enthusiasm in certain +long-haired German artists at Rome, and the youth of other nations who +worked or idled near them were sometimes caught in the spreading movement. + +One fine morning a young man whose hair was not immoderately long, +but abundant and curly, and who was otherwise English in his equipment, +had just turned his back on the Belvedere Torso in the Vatican +and was looking out on the magnificent view of the mountains from +the adjoining round vestibule. He was sufficiently absorbed not +to notice the approach of a dark-eyed, animated German who came up +to him and placing a hand on his shoulder, said with a strong accent, +"Come here, quick! else she will have changed her pose." + +Quickness was ready at the call, and the two figures passed lightly +along by the Meleager, towards the hall where the reclining Ariadne, +then called the Cleopatra, lies in the marble voluptuousness +of her beauty, the drapery folding around her with a petal-like +ease and tenderness. They were just in time to see another +figure standing against a pedestal near the reclining marble: +a breathing blooming girl, whose form, not shamed by the Ariadne, +was clad in Quakerish gray drapery; her long cloak, fastened at +the neck, was thrown backward from her arms, and one beautiful +ungloved hand pillowed her cheek, pushing somewhat backward +the white beaver bonnet which made a sort of halo to her face +around the simply braided dark-brown hair. She was not looking +at the sculpture, probably not thinking of it: her large eyes were +fixed dreamily on a streak of sunlight which fell across the floor. +But she became conscious of the two strangers who suddenly paused +as if to contemplate the Cleopatra, and, without looking at them, +immediately turned away to join a maid-servant and courier +who were loitering along the hall at a little distance off. + +"What do you think of that for a fine bit of antithesis?" said the +German, searching in his friend's face for responding admiration, +but going on volubly without waiting for any other answer. +"There lies antique beauty, not corpse-like even in death, +but arrested in the complete contentment of its sensuous perfection: +and here stands beauty in its breathing life, with the consciousness +of Christian centuries in its bosom. But she should be dressed +as a nun; I think she looks almost what you call a Quaker; +I would dress her as a nun in my picture. However, she is married; +I saw her wedding-ring on that wonderful left hand, otherwise I +should have thought the sallow Geistlicher was her father. +I saw him parting from her a good while ago, and just now I found her +in that magnificent pose. Only think! he is perhaps rich, and would +like to have her portrait taken. Ah! it is no use looking after her-- +there she goes! Let us follow her home!" + +"No, no," said his companion, with a little frown. + +"You are singular, Ladislaw. You look struck together. Do you +know her?" + +"I know that she is married to my cousin," said Will Ladislaw, +sauntering down the hall with a preoccupied air, while his German +friend kept at his side and watched him eagerly. + +"What! the Geistlicher? He looks more like an uncle--a more +useful sort of relation." + +"He is not my uncle. I tell you he is my second cousin," +said Ladislaw, with some irritation. + +"Schon, schon. Don't be snappish. You are not angry with me +for thinking Mrs. Second-Cousin the most perfect young Madonna +I ever saw?" + +"Angry? nonsense. I have only seen her once before, for a couple +of minutes, when my cousin introduced her to me, just before I +left England. They were not married then. I didn't know they +were coming to Rome." + +"But you will go to see them now--you will find out what they have +for an address--since you know the name. Shall we go to the post? +And you could speak about the portrait." + +"Confound you, Naumann! I don't know what I shall do. I am not +so brazen as you." + +"Bah! that is because you are dilettantish and amateurish. If you +were an artist, you would think of Mistress Second-Cousin as antique +form animated by Christian sentiment--a sort of Christian Antigone-- +sensuous force controlled by spiritual passion." + +"Yes, and that your painting her was the chief outcome of +her existence--the divinity passing into higher completeness +and all but exhausted in the act of covering your bit of canvas. +I am amateurish if you like: I do NOT think that all the universe +is straining towards the obscure significance of your pictures." + +"But it is, my dear!--so far as it is straining through me, +Adolf Naumann: that stands firm," said the good-natured painter, +putting a hand on Ladislaw's shoulder, and not in the least disturbed +by the unaccountable touch of ill-humor in his tone. "See now! +My existence presupposes the existence of the whole universe-- +does it NOT? and my function is to paint--and as a painter +I have a conception which is altogether genialisch, of your +great-aunt or second grandmother as a subject for a picture; +therefore, the universe is straining towards that picture through +that particular hook or claw which it puts forth in the shape of me-- +not true?" + +"But how if another claw in the shape of me is straining to thwart it?-- +the case is a little less simple then." + +"Not at all: the result of the struggle is the same thing-- +picture or no picture--logically." + +Will could not resist this imperturbable temper, and the cloud +in his face broke into sunshiny laughter. + +"Come now, my friend--you will help?" said Naumann, in a hopeful tone. + +"No; nonsense, Naumann! English ladies are not at everybody's service +as models. And you want to express too much with your painting. +You would only have made a better or worse portrait with a background +which every connoisseur would give a different reason for or against. +And what is a portrait of a woman? Your painting and Plastik are +poor stuff after all. They perturb and dull conceptions instead +of raising them. Language is a finer medium." + +"Yes, for those who can't paint," said Naumann. "There you have +perfect right. I did not recommend you to paint, my friend." + +The amiable artist carried his sting, but Ladislaw did not choose +to appear stung. He went on as if he had not heard. + +"Language gives a fuller image, which is all the better for beings vague. +After all, the true seeing is within; and painting stares at you +with an insistent imperfection. I feel that especially about +representations of women. As if a woman were a mere colored superficies! +You must wait for movement and tone. There is a difference in their +very breathing: they change from moment to moment.--This woman whom +you have just seen, for example: how would you paint her voice, +pray? But her voice is much diviner than anything you have seen of her." + +"I see, I see. You are jealous. No man must presume to think +that he can paint your ideal. This is serious, my friend! +Your great-aunt! `Der Neffe als Onkel' in a tragic sense--ungeheuer!" + +"You and I shall quarrel, Naumann, if you call that lady my aunt again." + +"How is she to be called then?" + +"Mrs. Casaubon." + +"Good. Suppose I get acquainted with her in spite of you, and find +that she very much wishes to be painted?" + +"Yes, suppose!" said Will Ladislaw, in a contemptuous undertone, +intended to dismiss the subject. He was conscious of being irritated +by ridiculously small causes, which were half of his own creation. +Why was he making any fuss about Mrs. Casaubon? And yet he felt +as if something had happened to him with regard to her. There are +characters which are continually creating collisions and nodes +for themselves in dramas which nobody is prepared to act with them. +Their susceptibilities will clash against objects that remain +innocently quiet. + +CHAPTER XX. + + "A child forsaken, waking suddenly, + Whose gaze afeard on all things round doth rove, + And seeth only that it cannot see + The meeting eyes of love." + +Two hours later, Dorothea was seated in an inner room or boudoir +of a handsome apartment in the Via Sistina. + +I am sorry to add that she was sobbing bitterly, with such abandonment +to this relief of an oppressed heart as a woman habitually +controlled by pride on her own account and thoughtfulness for others +will sometimes allow herself when she feels securely alone. +And Mr. Casaubon was certain to remain away for some time at the Vatican. + +Yet Dorothea had no distinctly shapen grievance that she could +state even to herself; and in the midst of her confused thought +and passion, the mental act that was struggling forth into clearness +was a self-accusing cry that her feeling of desolation was the fault +of her own spiritual poverty. She had married the man of her choice, +and with the advantage over most girls that she had contemplated +her marriage chiefly as the beginning of new duties: from the very +first she had thought of Mr. Casaubon as having a mind so much above +her own, that he must often be claimed by studies which she could +not entirely share; moreover, after the brief narrow experience +of her girlhood she was beholding Rome, the city of visible history, +where the past of a whole hemisphere seems moving in funeral procession +with strange ancestral images and trophies gathered from afar. + +But this stupendous fragmentariness heightened the dreamlike strangeness +of her bridal life. Dorothea had now been five weeks in Rome, +and in the kindly mornings when autumn and winter seemed to go hand +in hand like a happy aged couple one of whom would presently survive +in chiller loneliness, she had driven about at first with Mr. Casaubon, +but of late chiefly with Tantripp and their experienced courier. +She had been led through the best galleries, had been taken to the +chief points of view, had been shown the grandest ruins and the most +glorious churches, and she had ended by oftenest choosing to drive +out to the Campagna where she could feel alone with the earth +and sky, away-from the oppressive masquerade of ages, in which +her own life too seemed to become a masque with enigmatical costumes. + +To those who have looked at Rome with the quickening power of a +knowledge which breathes a growing soul into all historic shapes, +and traces out the suppressed transitions which unite all contrasts, +Rome may still be the spiritual centre and interpreter of the world. +But let them conceive one more historical contrast: the gigantic +broken revelations of that Imperial and Papal city thrust abruptly +on the notions of a girl who had been brought up in English +and Swiss Puritanism, fed on meagre Protestant histories and on +art chiefly of the hand-screen sort; a girl whose ardent nature +turned all her small allowance of knowledge into principles, +fusing her actions into their mould, and whose quick emotions gave +the most abstract things the quality of a pleasure or a pain; +a girl who had lately become a wife, and from the enthusiastic +acceptance of untried duty found herself plunged in tumultuous +preoccupation with her personal lot. The weight of unintelligible +Rome might lie easily on bright nymphs to whom it formed a background +for the brilliant picnic of Anglo-foreign society; but Dorothea +had no such defence against deep impressions. Ruins and basilicas, +palaces and colossi, set in the midst of a sordid present, where all +that was living and warm-blooded seemed sunk in the deep degeneracy +of a superstition divorced from reverence; the dimmer but yet eager +Titanic life gazing and struggling on walls and ceilings; the long +vistas of white forms whose marble eyes seemed to hold the monotonous +light of an alien world: all this vast wreck of ambitious ideals, +sensuous and spiritual, mixed confusedly with the signs of breathing +forgetfulness and degradation, at first jarred her as with an +electric shock, and then urged themselves on her with that ache +belonging to a glut of confused ideas which check the flow of emotion. +Forms both pale and glowing took possession of her young sense, +and fixed themselves in her memory even when she was not thinking +of them, preparing strange associations which remained through +her after-years. Our moods are apt to bring with them images +which succeed each other like the magic-lantern pictures of a doze; +and in certain states of dull forlornness Dorothea all her life +continued to see the vastness of St. Peter's, the huge bronze canopy, +the excited intention in the attitudes and garments of the prophets +and evangelists in the mosaics above, and the red drapery which was +being hung for Christmas spreading itself everywhere like a disease +of the retina. + +Not that this inward amazement of Dorothea's was anything +very exceptional: many souls in their young nudity are tumbled +out among incongruities and left to "find their feet" among them, +while their elders go about their business. Nor can I suppose +that when Mrs. Casaubon is discovered in a fit of weeping six weeks +after her wedding, the situation will be regarded as tragic. +Some discouragement, some faintness of heart at the new real +future which replaces the imaginary, is not unusual, and we do +not expect people to be deeply moved by what is not unusual. +That element of tragedy which lies in the very fact of frequency, +has not yet wrought itself into the coarse emotion of mankind; +and perhaps our frames could hardly bear much of it. If we had +a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be +like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we +should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. +As it is, the quickest of us walk about well wadded with stupidity. + +However, Dorothea was crying, and if she had been required to state +the cause, she could only have done so in some such general words as I +have already used: to have been driven to be more particular would +have been like trying to give a history of the lights and shadows, +for that new real future which was replacing the imaginary drew +its material from the endless minutiae by which her view of +Mr. Casaubon and her wifely relation, now that she was married to him, +was gradually changing with the secret motion of a watch-hand +from what it had been in her maiden dream. It was too early yet +for her fully to recognize or at least admit the change, still more +for her to have readjusted that devotedness which was so necessary +a part of her mental life that she was almost sure sooner or later +to recover it. Permanent rebellion, the disorder of a life +without some loving reverent resolve, was not possible to her; +but she was now in an interval when the very force of her nature +heightened its confusion. In this way, the early months of marriage +often are times of critical tumult--whether that of a shrimp-pool +or of deeper waters--which afterwards subsides into cheerful peace. + +But was not Mr. Casaubon just as learned as before? Had his forms +of expression changed, or his sentiments become less laudable? +Oh waywardness of womanhood! did his chronology fail him, or his +ability to state not only a theory but the names of those who held it; +or his provision for giving the heads of any subject on demand? +And was not Rome the place in all the world to give free play +to such accomplishments? Besides, had not Dorothea's enthusiasm +especially dwelt on the prospect of relieving the weight and perhaps +the sadness with which great tasks lie on him who has to achieve them?-- +And that such weight pressed on Mr. Casaubon was only plainer +than before. + +All these are crushing questions; but whatever else remained the same, +the light had changed, and you cannot find the pearly dawn at noonday. +The fact is unalterable, that a fellow-mortal with whose nature you +are acquainted solely through the brief entrances and exits of a few +imaginative weeks called courtship, may, when seen in the continuity +of married companionship, be disclosed as something better or worse +than what you have preconceived, but will certainly not appear +altogether the same. And it would be astonishing to find how soon +the change is felt if we had no kindred changes to compare with it. +To share lodgings with a brilliant dinner-companion, or to see +your favorite politician in the Ministry, may bring about changes +quite as rapid: in these cases too we begin by knowing little and +believing much, and we sometimes end by inverting the quantities. + +Still, such comparisons might mislead, for no man was more incapable +of flashy make-believe than Mr. Casaubon: he was as genuine a +character as any ruminant animal, and he had not actively assisted +in creating any illusions about himself. How was it that in the weeks +since her marriage, Dorothea had not distinctly observed but felt +with a stifling depression, that the large vistas and wide fresh air +which she had dreamed of finding in her husband's mind were replaced +by anterooms and winding passages which seemed to lead nowhither? +I suppose it was that in courtship everything is regarded as provisional +and preliminary, and the smallest sample of virtue or accomplishment +is taken to guarantee delightful stores which the broad leisure +of marriage will reveal. But the door-sill of marriage once crossed, +expectation is concentrated on the present. Having once embarked +on your marital voyage, it is impossible not to be aware that you +make no way and that the sea is not within sight--that, in fact, +you are exploring an enclosed basin. + +In their conversation before marriage, Mr. Casaubon had often dwelt on +some explanation or questionable detail of which Dorothea did not see +the bearing; but such imperfect coherence seemed due to the brokenness +of their intercourse, and, supported by her faith in their future, +she had listened with fervid patience to a recitation of possible +arguments to be brought against Mr. Casaubon's entirely new view +of the Philistine god Dagon and other fish-deities, thinking that +hereafter she should see this subject which touched him so nearly +from the same high ground whence doubtless it had become so important +to him. Again, the matter-of-course statement and tone of dismissal +with which he treated what to her were the most stirring thoughts, +was easily accounted for as belonging to the sense of haste and +preoccupation in which she herself shared during their engagement. +But now, since they had been in Rome, with all the depths of her +emotion roused to tumultuous activity, and with life made a new +problem by new elements, she had been becoming more and more aware, +with a certain terror, that her mind was continually sliding into +inward fits of anger and repulsion, or else into forlorn weariness. +How far the judicious Hooker or any other hero of erudition would +have been the same at Mr. Casaubon's time of life, she had no means +of knowing, so that he could not have the advantage of comparison; +but her husband's way of commenting on the strangely impressive objects +around them had begun to affect her with a sort of mental shiver: +he had perhaps the best intention of acquitting himself worthily, +but only of acquitting himself. What was fresh to her mind was worn +out to his; and such capacity of thought and feeling as had ever +been stimulated in him by the general life of mankind had long +shrunk to a sort of dried preparation, a lifeless embalmment +of knowledge. + +When he said, "Does this interest you, Dorothea? Shall we stay +a little longer? I am ready to stay if you wish it,"--it seemed +to her as if going or staying were alike dreary. Or, "Should you +like to go to the Farnesina, Dorothea? It contains celebrated +frescos designed or painted by Raphael, which most persons think +it worth while to visit." + +"But do you care about them?" was always Dorothea's question. + +"They are, I believe, highly esteemed. Some of them represent +the fable of Cupid and Psyche, which is probably the romantic +invention of a literary period, and cannot, I think, be reckoned +as a genuine mythical product. But if you like these wall-paintings +we can easily drive thither; and you ill then, I think, have seen +the chief works of Raphael, any of which it were a pity to omit +in a visit to Rome. He is the painter who has been held to combine +the most complete grace of form with sublimity of expression. +Such at least I have gathered to be the opinion of conoscenti." + +This kind of answer given in a measured official tone, as of a +clergyman reading according to the rubric, did not help to justify +the glories of the Eternal City, or to give her the hope that if she +knew more about them the world would be joyously illuminated for her. +There is hardly any contact more depressing to a young ardent +creature than that of a mind in which years full of knowledge +seem to have issued in a blank absence of interest or sympathy. + +On other subjects indeed Mr. Casaubon showed a tenacity of occupation +and an eagerness which are usually regarded as the effect of enthusiasm, +and Dorothea was anxious to follow this spontaneous direction of +his thoughts, instead of being made to feel that she dragged him away +from it. But she was gradually ceasing to expect with her former +delightful confidence that she should see any wide opening where she +followed him. Poor Mr. Casaubon himself was lost among small closets +and winding stairs, and in an agitated dimness about the Cabeiri, +or in an exposure of other mythologists' ill-considered parallels, +easily lost sight of any purpose which had prompted him to these labors. +With his taper stuck before him he forgot the absence of windows, +and in bitter manuscript remarks on other men's notions about +the solar deities, he had become indifferent to the sunlight. + +These characteristics, fixed and unchangeable as bone in Mr. Casaubon, +might have remained longer unfelt by Dorothea if she had been encouraged +to pour forth her girlish and womanly feeling--if he would have held +her hands between his and listened with the delight of tenderness and +understanding to all the little histories which made up her experience, +and would have given her the same sort of intimacy in return, +so that the past life of each could be included in their mutual +knowledge and affection--or if she could have fed her affection with +those childlike caresses which are the bent of every sweet woman, +who has begun by showering kisses on the hard pate of her bald doll, +creating a happy soul within that woodenness from the wealth of her +own love. That was Dorothea's bent. With all her yearning to know +what was afar from her and to be widely benignant, she had ardor +enough for what was near, to have kissed Mr. Casaubon's coat-sleeve, +or to have caressed his shoe-latchet, if he would have made any other +sign of acceptance than pronouncing her, with his unfailing propriety, +to be of a most affectionate and truly feminine nature, indicating at +the same time by politely reaching a chair for her that he regarded +these manifestations as rather crude and startling. Having made his +clerical toilet with due care in the morning, he was prepared only for +those amenities of life which were suited to the well-adjusted stiff +cravat of the period, and to a mind weighted with unpublished matter. + +And by a sad contradiction Dorothea's ideas and resolves seemed +like melting ice floating and lost in the warm flood of which they +had been but another form. She was humiliated to find herself a mere +victim of feeling, as if she could know nothing except through +that medium: all her strength was scattered in fits of agitation, +of struggle, of despondency, and then again in visions of more +complete renunciation, transforming all hard conditions into duty. +Poor Dorothea! she was certainly troublesome--to herself chiefly; +but this morning for the first time she had been troublesome to +Mr. Casaubon. + +She had begun, while they were taking coffee, with a determination +to shake off what she inwardly called her selfishness, and turned +a face all cheerful attention to her husband when he said, +"My dear Dorothea, we must now think of all that is yet left undone, +as a preliminary to our departure. I would fain have returned home +earlier that we might have been at Lowick for the Christmas; but my +inquiries here have been protracted beyond their anticipated period. +I trust, however, that the time here has not been passed unpleasantly +to you. Among the sights of Europe, that of Rome has ever been +held one of the most striking and in some respects edifying. +I well remember that I considered it an epoch in my life when I +visited it for the first time; after the fall of Napoleon, an event +which opened the Continent to travellers. Indeed I think it is one +among several cities to which an extreme hyperbole has been applied-- +`See Rome and die:' but in your case I would propose an emendation +and say, See Rome as a bride, and live henceforth as a happy wife." + +Mr. Casaubon pronounced this little speech with the most conscientious +intention, blinking a little and swaying his head up and down, +and concluding with a smile. He had not found marriage a rapturous state, +but he had no idea of being anything else than an irreproachable husband, +who would make a charming young woman as happy as she deserved to be. + +"I hope you are thoroughly satisfied with our stay--I mean, +with the result so far as your studies are concerned," said Dorothea, +trying to keep her mind fixed on what most affected her husband. + +"Yes," said Mr. Casaubon, with that peculiar pitch of voice which makes +the word half a negative. "I have been led farther than I had foreseen, +and various subjects for annotation have presented themselves which, +though I have no direct need of them, I could not pretermit. +The task, notwithstanding the assistance of my amanuensis, has been +a somewhat laborious one, but your society has happily prevented me +from that too continuous prosecution of thought beyond the hours +of study which has been the snare of my solitary life." + +"I am very glad that my presence has made any difference to you," +said Dorothea, who had a vivid memory of evenings in which she +had supposed that Mr. Casaubon's mind had gone too deep during +the day to be able to get to the surface again. I fear there +was a little temper in her reply. "I hope when we get to Lowick, +I shall be more useful to you, and be able to enter a little more +into what interests you." + +"Doubtless, my dear," said Mr. Casaubon, with a slight bow. +"The notes I have here made will want sifting, and you can, +if you please, extract them under my direction." + +"And all your notes," said Dorothea, whose heart had already +burned within her on this subject, so that now she could not help +speaking with her tongue. "All those rows of volumes--will you not +now do what you used to speak of?--will you not make up your mind +what part of them you will use, and begin to write the book which +will make your vast knowledge useful to the world? I will write +to your dictation, or I will copy and extract what you tell me: +I can be of no other use." Dorothea, in a most unaccountable, +darkly feminine manner, ended with a slight sob and eyes full +of tears. + +The excessive feeling manifested would alone have been highly disturbing +to Mr. Casaubon, but there were other reasons why Dorothea's words +were among the most cutting and irritating to him that she could +have been impelled to use. She was as blind to his inward troubles +as he to hers: she had not yet learned those hidden conflicts in her +husband which claim our pity. She had not yet listened patiently +to his heartbeats, but only felt that her own was beating violently. +In Mr. Casaubon's ear, Dorothea's voice gave loud emphatic iteration +to those muffled suggestions of consciousness which it was possible +to explain as mere fancy, the illusion of exaggerated sensitiveness: +always when such suggestions are unmistakably repeated from without, +they are resisted as cruel and unjust. We are angered even by the +full acceptance of our humiliating confessions--how much more by +hearing in hard distinct syllables from the lips of a near observer, +those confused murmurs which we try to call morbid, and strive +against as if they were the oncoming of numbness! And this cruel +outward accuser was there in the shape of a wife--nay, of a +young bride, who, instead of observing his abundant pen-scratches +and amplitude of paper with the uncritical awe of an elegant-minded +canary-bird, seemed to present herself as a spy watching everything +with a malign power of inference. Here, towards this particular +point of the compass, Mr. Casaubon had a sensitiveness to match +Dorothea's, and an equal quickness to imagine more than the fact. +He had formerly observed with approbation her capacity for worshipping +the right object; he now foresaw with sudden terror that this +capacity might be replaced by presumption, this worship by the most +exasperating of all criticism,--that which sees vaguely a great +many fine ends, and has not the least notion what it costs to reach them. + +For the first time since Dorothea had known him, Mr. Casaubon's +face had a quick angry flush upon it. + +"My love," he said, with irritation reined in by propriety, +"you may rely upon me for knowing the times and the seasons, +adapted to the different stages of a work which is not to be measured +by the facile conjectures of ignorant onlookers. It had been easy +for me to gain a temporary effect by a mirage of baseless opinion; +but it is ever the trial of the scrupulous explorer to be saluted +with the impatient scorn of chatterers who attempt only the +smallest achievements, being indeed equipped for no other. +And it were well if all such could be admonished to discriminate +judgments of which the true subject-matter lies entirely beyond +their reach, from those of which the elements may be compassed +by a narrow and superficial survey." + +This speech was delivered with an energy and readiness quite unusual +with Mr. Casaubon. It was not indeed entirely an improvisation, +but had taken shape in inward colloquy, and rushed out like the round +grains from a fruit when sudden heat cracks it. Dorothea was not +only his wife: she was a personification of that shallow world +which surrounds the appreciated or desponding author. + +Dorothea was indignant in her turn. Had she not been repressing +everything in herself except the desire to enter into some fellowship +with her husband's chief interests? + +"My judgment WAS a very superficial one--such as I am capable +of forming," she answered, with a prompt resentment, that needed +no rehearsal. "You showed me the rows of notebooks--you have often +spoken of them--you have often said that they wanted digesting. +But I never heard you speak of the writing that is to be published. +Those were very simple facts, and my judgment went no farther. +I only begged you to let me be of some good to you." + +Dorothea rose to leave the table and Mr. Casaubon made no reply, +taking up a letter which lay beside him as if to reperuse it. +Both were shocked at their mutual situation--that each should +have betrayed anger towards the other. If they had been at home, +settled at Lowick in ordinary life among their neighbors, the clash +would have been less embarrassing: but on a wedding journey, +the express object of which is to isolate two people on the ground +that they are all the world to each other, the sense of disagreement is, +to say the least, confounding and stultifying. To have changed +your longitude extensively and placed yourselves in a moral +solitude in order to have small explosions, to find conversation +difficult and to hand a glass of water without looking, can hardly +be regarded as satisfactory fulfilment even to the toughest minds. +To Dorothea's inexperienced sensitiveness, it seemed like a catastrophe, +changing all prospects; and to Mr. Casaubon it was a new pain, +he never having been on a wedding journey before, or found himself +in that close union which was more of a subjection than he had been +able to imagine, since this charming young bride not only obliged +him to much consideration on her behalf (which he had sedulously +given), but turned out to be capable of agitating him cruelly just +where he most needed soothing. Instead of getting a soft fence +against the cold, shadowy, unapplausive audience of his life, had he +only given it a more substantial presence? + +Neither of them felt it possible to speak again at present. +To have reversed a previous arrangement and declined to go out would +have been a show of persistent anger which Dorothea's conscience +shrank from, seeing that she already began to feel herself guilty. +However just her indignation might be, her ideal was not to +claim justice, but to give tenderness. So when the carriage +came to the door, she drove with Mr. Casaubon to the Vatican, +walked with him through the stony avenue of inscriptions, and when +she parted with him at the entrance to the Library, went on through +the Museum out of mere listlessness as to what was around her. +She had not spirit to turn round and say that she would drive anywhere. +It was when Mr. Casaubon was quitting her that Naumann had first +seen her, and he had entered the long gallery of sculpture at +the same time with her; but here Naumann had to await Ladislaw +with whom he was to settle a bet of champagne about an enigmatical +mediaeval-looking figure there. After they had examined the figure, +and had walked on finishing their dispute, they had parted, +Ladislaw lingering behind while Naumann had gone into the Hall +of Statues where he again saw Dorothea, and saw her in that brooding +abstraction which made her pose remarkable. She did not really see +the streak of sunlight on the floor more than she saw the statues: +she was inwardly seeing the light of years to come in her own home +and over the English fields and elms and hedge-bordered highroads; +and feeling that the way in which they might be filled with joyful +devotedness was not so clear to her as it had been. But in Dorothea's +mind there was a current into which all thought and feeling were +apt sooner or later to flow--the reaching forward of the whole +consciousness towards the fullest truth, the least partial good. +There was clearly something better than anger and despondency. + +CHAPTER XXI. + + "Hire facounde eke full womanly and plain, + No contrefeted termes had she + To semen wise." + --CHAUCER. + +It was in that way Dorothea came to be sobbing as soon as she was +securely alone. But she was presently roused by a knock at the door, +which made her hastily dry her eyes before saying, "Come in." +Tantripp had brought a card, and said that there was a gentleman +waiting in the lobby. The courier had told him that only Mrs. Casaubon +was at home, but he said he was a relation of Mr. Casaubon's: would +she see him? + +"Yes," said Dorothea, without pause; "show him into the salon." +Her chief impressions about young Ladislaw were that when she +had seen him at Lowick she had been made aware of Mr. Casaubon's +generosity towards him, and also that she had been interested +in his own hesitation about his career. She was alive to anything +that gave her an opportunity for active sympathy, and at this +moment it seemed as if the visit had come to shake her out of her +self-absorbed discontent--to remind her of her husband's goodness, +and make her feel that she had now the right to be his helpmate +in all kind deeds. She waited a minute or two, but when she passed +into the next room there were just signs enough that she had been +crying to make her open face look more youthful and appealing +than usual. She met Ladislaw with that exquisite smile of good-will +which is unmixed with vanity, and held out her hand to him. +He was the elder by several years, but at that moment he looked +much the younger, for his transparent complexion flushed suddenly, +and he spoke with a shyness extremely unlike the ready indifference +of his manner with his male companion, while Dorothea became all +the calmer with a wondering desire to put him at ease. + +"I was not aware that you and Mr. Casaubon were in Rome, +until this morning, when I saw you in the Vatican Museum," he said. +"I knew you at once--but--I mean, that I concluded Mr. Casaubon's +address would be found at the Poste Restante, and I was anxious +to pay my respects to him and you as early as possible." + +"Pray sit down. He is not here now, but he will be glad to hear +of you, I am sure," said Dorothea, seating herself unthinkingly +between the fire and the light of the tall window, and pointing +to a chair opposite, with the quietude of a benignant matron. +The signs of girlish sorrow in her face were only the more striking. +"Mr. Casaubon is much engaged; but you will leave your address-- +will you not?--and he will write to you." + +"You are very good," said Ladislaw, beginning to lose his +diffidence in the interest with which he was observing the signs +of weeping which had altered her face. "My address is on my card. +But if you will allow me I will call again to-morrow at an hour +when Mr. Casaubon is likely to be at home." + +"He goes to read in the Library of the Vatican every day, and you +can hardly see him except by an appointment. Especially now. +We are about to leave Rome, and he is very busy. He is usually away +almost from breakfast till dinner. But I am sure he will wish you +to dine with us." + +Will Ladislaw was struck mute for a few moments. He had never been fond +of Mr. Casaubon, and if it had not been for the sense of obligation, +would have laughed at him as a Bat of erudition. But the idea +of this dried-up pedant, this elaborator of small explanations +about as important as the surplus stock of false antiquities kept +in a vendor's back chamber, having first got this adorable young +creature to marry him, and then passing his honeymoon away from her, +groping after his mouldy futilities (Will was given to hyperbole)-- +this sudden picture stirred him with a sort of comic disgust: +he was divided between the impulse to laugh aloud and the equally +unseasonable impulse to burst into scornful invective. + +For an instant he felt that the struggle, was causing a queer +contortion of his mobile features, but with a good effort +he resolved it into nothing more offensive than a merry smile. + +Dorothea wondered; but the smile was irresistible, and shone back +from her face too. Will Ladislaw's smile was delightful, unless you +were angry with him beforehand: it was a gush of inward light +illuminating the transparent skin as well as the eyes, and playing +about every curve and line as if some Ariel were touching them +with a new charm, and banishing forever the traces of moodiness. +The reflection of that smile could not but have a little merriment +in it too, even under dark eyelashes still moist, as Dorothea +said inquiringly, "Something amuses you?" + +"Yes," said Will, quick in finding resources. "I am thinking +of the sort of figure I cut the first time I saw you, when you +annihilated my poor sketch with your criticism." + +"My criticism?" said Dorothea, wondering still more. "Surely not. +I always feel particularly ignorant about painting." + +"I suspected you of knowing so much, that you knew how to say just what +was most cutting. You said--I dare say you don't remember it as I do-- +that the relation of my sketch to nature was quite hidden from you. +At least, you implied that." Will could laugh now as well as smile. + +"That was really my ignorance," said Dorothea, admiring + +Will's good-humor. "I must have said so only because I never could see +any beauty in the pictures which my uncle told me all judges thought +very fine. And I have gone about with just the same ignorance in Rome. +There are comparatively few paintings that I can really enjoy. +At first when I enter a room where the walls are covered with frescos, +or with rare pictures, I feel a kind of awe--like a child present +at great ceremonies where there are grand robes and processions; +I feel myself in the presence of some higher life than my own. +But when I begin to examine the pictures one by on the life goes +out of them, or else is something violent and strange to me. +It must be my own dulness. I am seeing so much all at once, +and not understanding half of it. That always makes one feel stupid. +It is painful to be told that anything is very fine and not be able +to feel that it is fine--something like being blind, while people +talk of the sky." + +"Oh, there is a great deal in the feeling for art which must +be acquired," said Will. (It was impossible now to doubt the +directness of Dorothea's confession.) "Art is an old language +with a great many artificial affected styles, and sometimes +the chief pleasure one gets out of knowing them is the mere +sense of knowing. I enjoy the art of all sorts here immensely; +but I suppose if I could pick my enjoyment to pieces I should +find it made up of many different threads. There is something +in daubing a little one's self, and having an idea of the process." + +"You mean perhaps to be a painter?" said Dorothea, with a new +direction of interest. "You mean to make painting your profession? +Mr. Casaubon will like to hear that you have chosen a profession." + +"No, oh no," said Will, with some coldness. "I have quite made +up my mind against it. It is too one-sided a life. I have been +seeing a great deal of the German artists here: I travelled from +Frankfort with one of them. Some are fine, even brilliant fellows-- +but I should not like to get into their way of looking at the world +entirely from the studio point of view." + +"That I can understand," said Dorothea, cordially. "And in Rome +it seems as if there were so many things which are more wanted +in the world than pictures. But if you have a genius for painting, +would it not be right to take that as a guide? Perhaps you might +do better things than these--or different, so that there might not +be so many pictures almost all alike in the same place." + +There was no mistaking this simplicity, and Will was won by it +into frankness. "A man must have a very rare genius to make changes +of that sort. I am afraid mine would not carry me even to the pitch +of doing well what has been done already, at least not so well +as to make it worth while. And I should never succeed in anything +by dint of drudgery. If things don't come easily to me I never get them." + +"I have heard Mr. Casaubon say that he regrets your want of patience," +said Dorothea, gently. She was rather shocked at this mode of taking +all life as a holiday. + +"Yes, I know Mr. Casaubon's opinion. He and I differ." + +The slight streak of contempt in this hasty reply offended Dorothea. +She was all the more susceptible about Mr. Casaubon because of her +morning's trouble. + +"Certainly you differ," she said, rather proudly. "I did not +think of comparing you: such power of persevering devoted labor +as Mr. Casaubon's is not common." + +Will saw that she was offended, but this only gave an additional impulse +to the new irritation of his latent dislike towards Mr. Casaubon. +It was too intolerable that Dorothea should be worshipping this husband: +such weakness in a woman is pleasant to no man but the husband +in question. Mortals are easily tempted to pinch the life out of +their neighbor's buzzing glory, and think that such killing is no murder. + +"No, indeed," he answered, promptly. "And therefore it is a pity +that it should be thrown away, as so much English scholarship is, +for want of knowing what is being done by the rest of the world. +If Mr. Casaubon read German he would save himself a great deal +of trouble." + +"I do not understand you," said Dorothea, startled and anxious. + +"I merely mean," said Will, in an offhand way, "that the Germans +have taken the lead in historical inquiries, and they laugh at +results which are got by groping about in woods with a pocket-compass +while they have made good roads. When I was with Mr. Casaubon I +saw that he deafened himself in that direction: it was almost +against his will that he read a Latin treatise written by a German. +I was very sorry." + +Will only thought of giving a good pinch that would annihilate +that vaunted laboriousness, and was unable to imagine the mode +in which Dorothea would be wounded. Young Mr. Ladislaw was not at +all deep himself in German writers; but very little achievement +is required in order to pity another man's shortcomings. + +Poor Dorothea felt a pang at the thought that the labor of her +husband's life might be void, which left her no energy to spare +for the question whether this young relative who was so much +obliged to him ought not to have repressed his observation. +She did not even speak, but sat looking at her hands, absorbed in +the piteousness of that thought. + +Will, however, having given that annihilating pinch, was rather ashamed, +imagining from Dorothea's silence that he had offended her still more; +and having also a conscience about plucking the tail-feathers +from a benefactor. + +"I regretted it especially," he resumed, taking the usual course +from detraction to insincere eulogy, "because of my gratitude +and respect towards my cousin. It would not signify so much +in a man whose talents and character were less distinguished." + +Dorothea raised her eyes, brighter than usual with excited feeling, +and said in her saddest recitative, "How I wish I had learned German +when I was at Lausanne! There were plenty of German teachers. +But now I can be of no use." + +There was a new light, but still a mysterious light, for Will +in Dorothea's last words. The question how she had come to accept +Mr. Casaubon--which he had dismissed when he first saw her by saying +that she must be disagreeable in spite of appearances--was not now +to be answered on any such short and easy method. Whatever else +she might be, she was not disagreeable. She was not coldly clever +and indirectly satirical, but adorably simple and full of feeling. +She was an angel beguiled. It would be a unique delight to wait +and watch for the melodious fragments in which her heart and soul +came forth so directly and ingenuously. The AEolian harp again +came into his mind. + +She must have made some original romance for herself in this marriage. +And if Mr. Casaubon had been a dragon who had carried her off to +his lair with his talons simply and without legal forms, it would +have been an unavoidable feat of heroism to release her and fall +at her feet. But he was something more unmanageable than a dragon: +he was a benefactor with collective society at his back, and he +was at that moment entering the room in all the unimpeachable +correctness of his demeanor, while Dorothea was looking animated +with a newly roused alarm and regret, and Will was looking animated +with his admiring speculation about her feelings. + +Mr. Casaubon felt a surprise which was quite unmixed with pleasure, +but he did not swerve from his usual politeness of greeting, +when Will rose and explained his presence. Mr. Casaubon was less +happy than usual, and this perhaps made him look all the dimmer +and more faded; else, the effect might easily have been produced by +the contrast of his young cousin's appearance. The first impression +on seeing Will was one of sunny brightness, which added to the +uncertainty of his changing expression. Surely, his very features +changed their form, his jaw looked sometimes large and sometimes small; +and the little ripple in his nose was a preparation for metamorphosis. +When he turned his head quickly his hair seemed to shake out light, +and some persons thought they saw decided genius in this coruscation. +Mr. Casaubon, on the contrary, stood rayless. + +As Dorothea's eyes were turned anxiously on her husband she was +perhaps not insensible to the contrast, but it was only mingled +with other causes in making her more conscious of that new alarm +on his behalf which was the first stirring of a pitying tenderness +fed by the realities of his lot and not by her own dreams. +Yet it was a source of greater freedom to her that Will was there; +his young equality was agreeable, and also perhaps his openness +to conviction. She felt an immense need of some one to speak to, +and she had never before seen any one who seemed so quick and pliable, +so likely to understand everything. + +Mr. Casaubon gravely hoped that Will was passing his time profitably +as well as pleasantly in Rome--had thought his intention was to remain +in South Germany--but begged him to come and dine to-morrow, when he +could converse more at large: at present he was somewhat weary. +Ladislaw understood, and accepting the invitation immediately took +his leave. + +Dorothea's eyes followed her husband anxiously, while he sank down +wearily at the end of a sofa, and resting his elbow supported his head +and looked on the floor. A little flushed, and with bright eyes, +she seated herself beside him, and said-- + +"Forgive me for speaking so hastily to you this morning. I was wrong. +I fear I hurt you and made the day more burdensome." + +"I am glad that you feel that, my dear," said Mr. Casaubon. +He spoke quietly and bowed. his head a little, but there was still +an uneasy feeling in his eyes as he looked at her. + +"But you do forgive me?" said Dorothea, with a quick sob. In her +need for some manifestation of feeling she was ready to exaggerate +her own fault. Would not love see returning penitence afar off, +and fall on its neck and kiss it? + +"My dear Dorothea--`who with repentance is not satisfied, is not +of heaven nor earth:'--you do not think me worthy to be banished +by that severe sentence," said Mr. Casaubon, exerting himself +to make a strong statement, and also to smile faintly. + +Dorothea was silent, but a tear which had come up with the sob +would insist on falling. + +"You are excited, my dear.. And I also am feeling some unpleasant +consequences of too much mental disturbance," said Mr. Casaubon. +In fact, he had it in his thought to tell her that she ought not +to have received young Ladislaw in his absence: but he abstained, +partly from the sense that it would be ungracious to bring +a new complaint in the moment of her penitent acknowledgment, +partly because he wanted to avoid further agitation of himself +by speech, and partly because he was too proud to betray that jealousy +of disposition which was not so exhausted on his scholarly compeers +that there was none to spare in other directions. There is a sort +of jealousy which needs very little fire: it is hardly a passion, +but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism. + +"I think it is time for us to dress," he added, looking at his watch. +They both rose, and there was never any further allusion between them +to what had passed on this day. + +But Dorothea remembered it to the last with the vividness with +which we all remember epochs in our experience when some dear +expectation dies, or some new motive is born. Today she had +begun to see that she had been under a wild illusion in expecting +a response to her feeling from Mr. Casaubon, and she had felt the +waking of a presentiment that there might be a sad consciousness +in his life which made as great a need on his side as on her own. + +We are all of us born in moral stupidity, taking the world as +an udder to feed our supreme selves: Dorothea had early begun +to emerge from that stupidity, but yet it had been easier to her +to imagine how she would devote herself to Mr. Casaubon, and become +wise and strong in his strength and wisdom, than to conceive +with that distinctness which is no longer reflection but feeling-- +an idea wrought back to the directness of sense, like the solidity +of objects--that he had an equivalent centre of self, whence the +lights and shadows must always fall with a certain difference. + +CHAPTER XXII. + + "Nous causames longtemps; elle etait simple et bonne. + Ne sachant pas le mal, elle faisait le bien; + Des richesses du coeur elle me fit l'aumone, + Et tout en ecoutant comme le coeur se donne, + Sans oser y penser je lui donnai le mien; + Elle emporta ma vie, et n'en sut jamais rien." + --ALFRED DE MUSSET. + +Will Ladislaw was delightfully agreeable at dinner the next day, +and gave no opportunity for Mr. Casaubon to show disapprobation. +On the contrary it seemed to Dorothea that Will had a happier way +of drawing her husband into conversation and of deferentially +listening to him than she had ever observed in any one before. +To be sure, the listeners about Tipton were not highly gifted! +Will talked a good deal himself, but what he said was thrown in with +such rapidity, and with such an unimportant air of saying something +by the way, that it seemed a gay little chime after the great bell. +If Will was not always perfect, this was certainly one of his good days. +He described touches of incident among the poor people in Rome, +only to be seen by one who could move about freely; he found +himself in agreement with Mr. Casaubon as to the unsound opinions +of Middleton concerning the relations of Judaism and Catholicism; +and passed easily to a half-enthusiastic half-playful picture +of the enjoyment he got out of the very miscellaneousness of Rome, +which made the mind flexible with constant comparison, and saved +you from seeing the world's ages as a set of box-like partitions +without vital connection. Mr. Casaubon's studies, Will observed, +had always been of too broad a kind for that, and he had perhaps +never felt any such sudden effect, but for himself he confessed +that Rome had given him quite a new sense of history as a whole: +the fragments stimulated his imagination and made him constructive. +Then occasionally, but not too often, he appealed to Dorothea, +and discussed what she said, as if her sentiment were an item +to be considered in the final judgment even of the Madonna di +Foligno or the Laocoon. A sense of contributing to form the world's +opinion makes conversation particularly cheerful; and Mr. Casaubon +too was not without his pride in his young wife, who spoke better +than most women, as indeed he had perceived in choosing her. + +Since things were going on so pleasantly, Mr. Casaubon's statement +that his labors in the Library would be suspended for a couple of days, +and that after a brief renewal he should have no further reason +for staying in Rome, encouraged Will to urge that Mrs. Casaubon +should not go away without seeing a studio or two. Would not +Mr. Casaubon take her? That sort of thing ought not to be missed: +it was quite special: it was a form of life that grew like a small +fresh vegetation with its population of insects on huge fossils. +Will would be happy to conduct them--not to anything wearisome, +only to a few examples. + +Mr. Casaubon, seeing Dorothea look earnestly towards him, +could not but ask her if she would be interested in such visits: +he was now at her service during the whole day; and it was agreed +that Will should come on the morrow and drive with them. + +Will could not omit Thorwaldsen, a living celebrity about whom +even Mr. Casaubon inquired, but before the day was far advanced +he led the way to the studio of his friend Adolf Naumann, +whom he mentioned as one of the chief renovators of Christian art, +one of those who had not only revived but expanded that grand +conception of supreme events as mysteries at which the successive +ages were spectators, and in relation to which the great souls +of all periods became as it were contemporaries. Will added +that he had made himself Naumann's pupil for the nonce. + +"I have been making some oil-sketches under him," said Will. +"I hate copying. I must put something of my own in. Naumann has +been painting the Saints drawing the Car of the Church, and I have +been making a sketch of Marlowe's Tamburlaine Driving the Conquered +Kings in his Chariot. I am not so ecclesiastical as Naumann, +and I sometimes twit him with his excess of meaning. But this time +I mean to outdo him in breadth of intention. I take Tamburlaine +in his chariot for the tremendous course of the world's physical +history lashing on the harnessed dynasties. In my opinion, that is +a good mythical interpretation." Will here looked at Mr. Casaubon, +who received this offhand treatment of symbolism very uneasily, +and bowed with a neutral air. + +"The sketch must be very grand, if it conveys so much," said Dorothea. +"I should need some explanation even of the meaning you give. +Do you intend Tamburlaine to represent earthquakes and volcanoes?" + +"Oh yes," said Will, laughing, "and migrations of races and +clearings of forests--and America and the steam-engine. Everything +you can imagine!" + +"What a difficult kind of shorthand!" said Dorothea, smiling towards +her husband. "It would require all your knowledge to be able +to read it." + +Mr. Casaubon blinked furtively at Will. He had a suspicion that he +was being laughed at. But it was not possible to include Dorothea +in the suspicion. + +They found Naumann painting industriously, but no model was present; +his pictures were advantageously arranged, and his own plain vivacious +person set off by a dove-colored blouse and a maroon velvet cap, +so that everything was as fortunate as if he had expected the +beautiful young English lady exactly at that time. + +The painter in his confident English gave little dissertations on his +finished and unfinished subjects, seeming to observe Mr. Casaubon +as much as he did Dorothea. Will burst in here and there with ardent +words of praise, marking out particular merits in his friend's work; +and Dorothea felt that she was getting quite new notions as to +the significance of Madonnas seated under inexplicable canopied +thrones with the simple country as a background, and of saints +with architectural models in their hands, or knives accidentally +wedged in their skulls. Some things which had seemed monstrous +to her were gathering intelligibility and even a natural meaning: +but all this was apparently a branch of knowledge in which +Mr. Casaubon had not interested himself. + +"I think I would rather feel that painting is beautiful than +have to read it as an enigma; but I should learn to understand +these pictures sooner than yours with the very wide meaning," +said Dorothea, speaking to Will. + +"Don't speak of my painting before Naumann," said Will. "He will +tell you, it is all pfuscherei, which is his most opprobrious word!" + +"Is that true?" said Dorothea, turning her sincere eyes on Naumann, +who made a slight grimace and said-- + +"Oh, he does not mean it seriously with painting. His walk must +be belles-lettres. That is wi-ide." + +Naumann's pronunciation of the vowel seemed to stretch the +word satirically. Will did not half like it, but managed to laugh: +and Mr. Casaubon, while he felt some disgust at the artist's German +accent, began to entertain a little respect for his judicious severity. + +The respect was not diminished when Naumann, after drawing Will +aside for a moment and looking, first at a large canvas, then at +Mr. Casaubon, came forward again and said-- + +"My friend Ladislaw thinks you will pardon me, sir, if I say +that a sketch of your head would be invaluable to me for the +St. Thomas Aquinas in my picture there. It is too much to ask; +but I so seldom see just what I want--the idealistic in the real." + +"You astonish me greatly, sir," said Mr. Casaubon, his looks improved +with a glow of delight; "but if my poor physiognomy, which I have +been accustomed to regard as of the commonest order, can be of any +use to you in furnishing some traits for the angelical doctor, +I shall feel honored. That is to say, if the operation will not +be a lengthy one; and if Mrs. Casaubon will not object to the delay." + +As for Dorothea, nothing could have pleased her more, unless it +had been a miraculous voice pronouncing Mr. Casaubon the wisest +and worthiest among the sons of men. In that case her tottering +faith would have become firm again. + +Naumann's apparatus was at hand in wonderful completeness, and the +sketch went on at once as well as the conversation. Dorothea sat +down and subsided into calm silence, feeling happier than she had +done for a long while before. Every one about her seemed good, +and she said to herself that Rome, if she had only been less ignorant, +would have been full of beauty its sadness would have been winged +with hope. No nature could be less suspicious than hers: +when she was a child she believed in the gratitude of wasps and +the honorable susceptibility of sparrows, and was proportionately +indignant when their baseness was made manifest. + +The adroit artist was asking Mr. Casaubon questions about +English polities, which brought long answers, and, Will meanwhile +had perched himself on some steps in the background overlooking all. + +Presently Naumann said--"Now if I could lay this by for half +an hour and take it up again--come and look, Ladislaw--I think +it is perfect so far." + +Will vented those adjuring interjections which imply that admiration +is too strong for syntax; and Naumann said in a tone of piteous regret-- + +"Ah--now--if I could but have had more--but you have other engagements-- +I could not ask it--or even to come again to-morrow." + +"Oh, let us stay!" said Dorothea. "We have nothing to do to-day except +go about, have we?" she added, looking entreatingly at Mr. Casaubon. +"It would be a pity not to make the head as good as possible." + +"I am at your service, sir, in the matter," said Mr. Casaubon, +with polite condescension. "Having given up the interior of my +head to idleness, it is as well that the exterior should work +in this way." + +"You are unspeakably good--now I am happy!" said Naumann, and then +went on in German to Will, pointing here and there to the sketch +as if he were considering that. Putting it aside for a moment, +he looked round vaguely, as if seeking some occupation for his visitors, +and afterwards turning to Mr. Casaubon, said-- + +"Perhaps the beautiful bride, the gracious lady, would not be +unwilling to let me fill up the time by trying to make a slight +sketch of her--not, of course, as you see, for that picture-- +only as a single study." + +Mr. Casaubon, bowing, doubted not that Mrs. Casaubon would oblige him, +and Dorothea said, at once, "Where shall I put myself?" + +Naumann was all apologies in asking her to stand, and allow him to +adjust her attitude, to which she submitted without any of the affected +airs and laughs frequently thought necessary on such occasions, +when the painter said, "It is as Santa Clara that I want you to stand-- +leaning so, with your cheek against your hand--so--looking at +that stool, please, so!" + +Will was divided between the inclination to fall at the Saint's feet +and kiss her robe, and the temptation to knock Naumann down while he +was adjusting her arm. All this was impudence and desecration, +and he repented that he had brought her. + +The artist was diligent, and Will recovering himself moved about +and occupied Mr. Casaubon as ingeniously as he could; but he did +not in the end prevent the time from seeming long to that gentleman, +as was clear from his expressing a fear that Mrs. Casaubon would +be tired. Naumann took the hint and said-- + +"Now, sir, if you can oblige me again; I will release the lady-wife." + +So Mr. Casaubon's patience held out further, and when after all it +turned out that the head of Saint Thomas Aquinas would be more perfect +if another sitting could be had, it was granted for the morrow. +On the morrow Santa Clara too was retouched more than once. +The result of all was so far from displeasing to Mr. Casaubon, +that he arranged for the purchase of the picture in which Saint +Thomas Aquinas sat among the doctors of the Church in a disputation +too abstract to be represented, but listened to with more or less +attention by an audience above. The Santa Clara, which was spoken of +in the second place, Naumann declared himself to be dissatisfied with-- +he could not, in conscience, engage to make a worthy picture of it; +so about the Santa Clara the arrangement was conditional. + +I will not dwell on Naumann's jokes at the expense of Mr. Casaubon +that evening, or on his dithyrambs about Dorothea's charm, in all +which Will joined, but with a difference. No sooner did Naumann +mention any detail of Dorothea's beauty, than Will got exasperated +at his presumption: there was grossness in his choice of the most +ordinary words, and what business had he to talk of her lips? +She was not a woman to be spoken of as other women were. Will could +not say just what he thought, but he became irritable. And yet, +when after some resistance he had consented to take the Casaubons +to his friend's studio, he had been allured by the gratification +of his pride in being the person who could grant Naumann such an +opportunity of studying her loveliness--or rather her divineness, +for the ordinary phrases which might apply to mere bodily prettiness +were not applicable to her. (Certainly all Tipton and its neighborhood, +as well as Dorothea herself, would have been surprised at her beauty +being made so much of. In that part of the world Miss Brooke had +been only a "fine young woman.") + +"Oblige me by letting the subject drop, Naumann. Mrs. Casaubon +is not to be talked of as if she were a model," said Will. +Naumann stared at him. + +"Schon! I will talk of my Aquinas. The head is not a bad type, +after all. I dare say the great scholastic himself would have been +flattered to have his portrait asked for. Nothing like these +starchy doctors for vanity! It was as I thought: he cared much +less for her portrait than his own." + +"He's a cursed white-blooded pedantic coxcomb," said Will, +with gnashing impetuosity. His obligations to Mr. Casaubon were +not known to his hearer, but Will himself was thinking of them, +and wishing that he could discharge them all by a check. + +Naumann gave a shrug and said, "It is good they go away soon, my dear. +They are spoiling your fine temper." + +All Will's hope and contrivance were now concentrated on seeing +Dorothea when she was alone. He only wanted her to take more +emphatic notice of him; he only wanted to be something more special +in her remembrance than he could yet believe himself likely to be. +He was rather impatient under that open ardent good-will, reach he +saw was her usual state of feeling. The remote worship of a woman +throned out of their reach plays a great part in men's lives, +but in most cases the worshipper longs for some queenly recognition, +some approving sign by which his soul's sovereign may cheer him without +descending from her high place. That was precisely what Will wanted. +But there were plenty of contradictions in his imaginative demands. +It was beautiful to see how Dorothea's eyes turned with wifely +anxiety and beseeching to Mr. Casaubon: she would have lost some +of her halo if she had been without that duteous preoccupation; +and yet at the next moment the husband's sandy absorption of such +nectar was too intolerable; and Will's longing to say damaging things +about him was perhaps not the less tormenting because he felt the +strongest reasons for restraining it. + +Will had not been invited to dine the next day. Hence he persuaded +himself that he was bound to call, and that the only eligible time +was the middle of the day, when Mr. Casaubon would not be at home. + +Dorothea, who had not been made aware that her former reception of +Will had displeased her husband, had no hesitation about seeing him, +especially as he might be come to pay a farewell visit. When he entered +she was looking at some cameos which she had been buying for Celia. +She greeted Will as if his visit were quite a matter of course, +and said at once, having a cameo bracelet in her hand-- + +"I am so glad you are come. Perhaps you understand all about cameos, +and can tell me if these are really good. I wished to have you +with us in choosing them, but Mr. Casaubon objected: he thought +there was not time. He will finish his work to-morrow, and we shall +go away in three days. I have been uneasy about these cameos. +Pray sit down and look at them." + +"I am not particularly knowing, but there can be no great mistake +about these little Homeric bits: they are exquisitely neat. +And the color is fine: it will just suit you." + +"Oh, they are for my sister, who has quite a different complexion. +You saw her with me at Lowick: she is light-haired and very pretty-- +at least I think so. We were never so long away from each other in our +lives before. She is a great pet and never was naughty in her life. +I found out before I came away that she wanted me to buy her some cameos, +and I should be sorry for them not to be good--after their kind." +Dorothea added the last words with a smile. + +"You seem not to care about cameos," said Will, seating himself at +some distance from her, and observing her while she closed the oases. + +"No, frankly, I don't think them a great object in life," said Dorothea + +"I fear you are a heretic about art generally. How is that? I should +have expected you to be very sensitive to the beautiful everywhere." + +"I suppose I am dull about many things," said Dorothea, simply. +"I should like to make life beautiful--I mean everybody's life. +And then all this immense expense of art, that seems somehow to lie +outside life and make it no better for the world, pains one. +It spoils my enjoyment of anything when I am made to think that most +people are shut out from it." + +"I call that the fanaticism of sympathy," said Will, impetuously. +"You might say the same of landscape, of poetry, of all refinement. +If you carried it out you ought to be miserable in your own goodness, +and turn evil that you might have no advantage over others. +The best piety is to enjoy--when you can. You are doing the most +then to save the earth's character as an agreeable planet. +And enjoyment radiates. It is of no use to try and take care of +all the world; that is being taken care of when you feel delight-- +in art or in anything else. Would you turn all the youth of the +world into a tragic chorus, wailing and moralizing over misery? +I suspect that you have some false belief in the virtues of misery, +and want to make your life a martyrdom." Will had gone further than +he intended, and checked himself. But Dorothea's thought was not +taking just the same direction as his own, and she answered without any +special emotion-- + +"Indeed you mistake me. I am not a sad, melancholy creature. I am +never unhappy long together. I am angry and naughty--not like Celia: +I have a great outburst, and then all seems glorious again. +I cannot help believing in glorious things in a blind sort of way. +I should be quite willing to enjoy the art here, but there is +so much that I don't know the reason of--so much that seems to me +a consecration of ugliness rather than beauty. The painting and +sculpture may be wonderful, but the feeling is often low and brutal, +and sometimes even ridiculous. Here and there I see what takes me +at once as noble--something that I might compare with the Alban +Mountains or the sunset from the Pincian Hill; but that makes it +the greater pity that there is so little of the best kind among all +that mass of things over which men have toiled so." + +"Of course there is always a great deal of poor work: the rarer +things want that soil to grow in." + +"Oh dear," said Dorothea, taking up that thought into the chief current +of her anxiety; "I see it must be very difficult to do anything good. +I have often felt since I have been in Rome that most of our +lives would look much uglier and more bungling than the pictures, +if they could be put on the wall." + +Dorothea parted her lips again as if she were going to say more, +but changed her mind and paused. + +"You are too young--it is an anachronism for you to have such thoughts," +said Will, energetically, with a quick shake of the head habitual to him. +"You talk as if you had never known any youth. It is monstrous-- +as if you had had a vision of Hades in your childhood, like the boy +in the legend. You have been brought up in some of those horrible +notions that choose the sweetest women to devour--like Minotaurs +And now you will go and be shut up in that stone prison at Lowick: +you will be buried alive. It makes me savage to think of it! +I would rather never have seen you than think of you with such +a prospect." + +Will again feared that he had gone too far; but the meaning we attach +to words depends on our feeling, and his tone of angry regret had so much +kindness in it for Dorothea's heart, which had always been giving out +ardor and had never been fed with much from the living beings around her, +that she felt a new sense of gratitude and answered with a gentle smile-- + +"It is very good of you to be anxious about me. It is because you +did not like Lowick yourself: you had set your heart on another +kind of life. But Lowick is my chosen home." + +The last sentence was spoken with an almost solemn cadence, and Will +did not know what to say, since it would not be useful for him +to embrace her slippers, and tell her that he would die for her: +it was clear that she required nothing of the sort; and they were +both silent for a moment or two, when Dorothea began again with an +air of saying at last what had been in her mind beforehand. + +"I wanted to ask you again about something you said the other day. +Perhaps it was half of it your lively way of speaking: I notice +that you like to put things strongly; I myself often exaggerate +when I speak hastily." + +"What was it?" said Will, observing that she spoke with a timidity +quite new in her. "I have a hyperbolical tongue: it catches fire +as it goes. I dare say I shall have to retract." + +"I mean what you said about the necessity of knowing German--I mean, +for the subjects that Mr. Casaubon is engaged in. I have been thinking +about it; and it seems to me that with Mr. Casaubon's learning he must +have before him the same materials as German scholars--has he not?" +Dorothea's timidity was due to an indistinct consciousness that she +was in the strange situation of consulting a third person about +the adequacy of Mr. Casaubon's learning. + +"Not exactly the same materials," said Will, thinking that he +would be duly reserved. "He is not an Orientalist, you know. +He does not profess to have more than second-hand knowledge there." + +"But there are very valuable books about antiquities which were written +a long while ago by scholars who knew nothing about these modern things; +and they are still used. Why should Mr. Casaubon's not be valuable, +like theirs?" said Dorothea, with more remonstrant energy. +She was impelled to have the argument aloud, which she had been +having in her own mind. + +"That depends on the line of study taken," said Will, also getting +a tone of rejoinder. "The subject Mr. Casaubon has chosen is as +changing as chemistry: new discoveries are constantly making new +points of view. Who wants a system on the basis of the four elements, +or a book to refute Paracelsus? Do you not see that it is no use +now to be crawling a little way after men of the last century-- +men like Bryant--and correcting their mistakes?--living in a lumber-room +and furbishing up broken-legged theories about Chus and Mizraim?" + +"How can you bear to speak so lightly?" said Dorothea, with a look +between sorrow and anger. "If it were as you say, what could +be sadder than so much ardent labor all in vain? I wonder it does +not affect you more painfully, if you really think that a man +like Mr. Casaubon, of so much goodness, power, and learning, +should in any way fail in what has been the labor of his best years." +She was beginning to be shocked that she had got to such a point +of supposition, and indignant with Will for having led her to it. + +"You questioned me about the matter of fact, not of feeling," +said Will. "But if you wish to punish me for the fact, I submit. +I am not in a position to express my feeling toward Mr. Casaubon: +it would be at best a pensioner's eulogy." + +"Pray excuse me," said Dorothea, coloring deeply. "I am aware, +as you say, that I am in fault in having introduced the subject. +Indeed, I am wrong altogether. Failure after long perseverance is +much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called +a failure." + +"I quite agree with you," said Will, determined to change the situation-- +"so much so that I have made up my mind not to run that risk of +never attaining a failure. Mr. Casaubon's generosity has perhaps +been dangerous to me, and I mean to renounce the liberty it has +given me. I mean to go back to England shortly and work my own way-- +depend on nobody else than myself." + +"That is fine--I respect that feeling," said Dorothea, +with returning kindness. "But Mr. Casaubon, I am sure, has never +thought of anything in the matter except what was most for your welfare." + +"She has obstinacy and pride enough to serve instead of love, now she +has married him," said Will to himself. Aloud he said, rising-- + +"I shall not see you again." + +"Oh, stay till Mr. Casaubon comes," said Dorothea, earnestly. "I am +so glad we met in Rome. I wanted to know you."? + +"And I have made you angry," said Will. "I have made you think +ill of me." + +"Oh no. My sister tells me I am always angry with people who do +not say just what I like. But I hope I am not given to think ill +of them. In the end I am usually obliged to think ill of myself. +for being so impatient." + +"Still, you don't like me; I have made myself an unpleasant thought +to you." + +"Not at all," said Dorothea, with the most open kindness. +"I like you very much." + +Will was not quite contented, thinking that he would apparently have +been of more importance if he had been disliked. He said nothing, +but looked lull, not to say sulky. + +"And I am quite interested to see what you will do," Dorothea went +on cheerfully. "I believe devoutly in a natural difference of vocation. +If it were not for that belief, I suppose I should be very narrow-- +there are so many things, besides painting, that I am quite +ignorant of. You would hardly believe how little I have taken +in of music and literature, which you know so much of. I wonder +what your vocation will turn out to be: perhaps you will be a poet?" + +"That depends. To be a poet is to have a soul so quick to discern +that no shade of quality escapes it, and so quick to feel, +that discernment is but a hand playing with finely ordered variety on +the chords of emotion--a soul in which knowledge passes instantaneously +into feeling, and feeling flashes back as a new organ of knowledge. +One may have that condition by fits only." + +"But you leave out the poems," said Dorothea. "I think they are wanted +to complete the poet. I understand what you mean about knowledge +passing into feeling, for that seems to be just what I experience. +But I am sure I could never produce a poem." + +"You ARE a poem--and that is to be the best part of a poet-- +what makes up the poet's consciousness in his best moods," said Will, +showing such originality as we all share with the morning and the +spring-time and other endless renewals. + +"I am very glad to hear it," said Dorothea, laughing out her words +in a bird-like modulation, and looking at Will with playful gratitude +in her eyes. "What very kind things you say to me!" + +"I wish I could ever do anything that would be what you call kind-- +that I could ever be of the slightest service to you I fear I shall +never have the opportunity." Will spoke with fervor. + +"Oh yes," said Dorothea, cordially. "It will come; and I shall +remember how well you wish me. I quite hoped that we should be friends +when I first saw you--because of your relationship to Mr. Casaubon." +There was a certain liquid brightness in her eyes, and Will was +conscious that his own were obeying a law of nature and filling too. +The allusion to Mr. Casaubon would have spoiled all if anything at +that moment could have spoiled the subduing power, the sweet dignity, +of her noble unsuspicious inexperience. + +"And there is one thing even now that you can do," said Dorothea, rising +and walking a little way under the strength of a recurring impulse. +"Promise me that you will not again, to any one, speak of that subject-- +I mean about Mr. Casaubon's writings--I mean in that kind of way. +It was I who led to it. It was my fault. But promise me." + +She had returned from her brief pacing and stood opposite Will, +looking gravely at him. + +"Certainly, I will promise you," said Will, reddening however. +If he never said a cutting word about Mr. Casaubon again and left +off receiving favors from him, it would clearly be permissible +to hate him the more. The poet must know how to hate, says Goethe; +and Will was at least ready with that accomplishment. He said that he +must go now without waiting for Mr. Casaubon, whom he would come +to take leave of at the last moment. Dorothea gave him her hand, +and they exchanged a simple "Good-by." + +But going out of the porte cochere he met Mr. Casaubon, +and that gentleman, expressing the best wishes for his cousin, +politely waived the pleasure of any further leave-taking on the morrow, +which would be sufficiently crowded with the preparations for departure. + +"I have something to tell you about our cousin Mr. Ladislaw, +which I think will heighten your opinion of him," said Dorothea +to her husband in the coarse of the evening. She had mentioned +immediately on his entering that Will had just gone away, and would +come again, but Mr. Casaubon had said, "I met him outside, and we +made our final adieux, I believe," saying this with the air and tone +by which we imply that any subject, whether private or public, +does not interest us enough to wish for a further remark upon it. +So Dorothea had waited. + +"What is that, my love?" said Mr Casaubon (he always said "my love" +when his manner was the coldest). + +"He has made up his mind to leave off wandering at once, and to give up +his dependence on your generosity. He means soon to go back to England, +and work his own way. I thought you would consider that a good sign," +said Dorothea, with an appealing look into her husband's neutral face. + +"Did he mention the precise order of occupation to which he would +addict himself?" + +"No. But he said that he felt the danger which lay for him +in your generosity. Of course he will write to you about it. +Do you not think better of him for his resolve?" + +"I shall await his communication on the subject," said Mr. Casaubon. + +"I told him I was sure that the thing you considered in all you did +for him was his own welfare. I remembered your goodness in what you +said about him when I first saw him at Lowick," said Dorothea, +putting her hand on her husband's + +"I had a duty towards him," said Mr. Casaubon, laying his other +hand on Dorothea's in conscientious acceptance of her caress, +but with a glance which he could not hinder from being uneasy. +"The young man, I confess, is not otherwise an object of interest to me, +nor need we, I think, discuss his future course, which it is not ours +to determine beyond the limits which I have sufficiently indicated." +Dorothea did not mention Will again. + +BOOK III. + +WAITING FOR DEATH. + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + "Your horses of the Sun," he said, + "And first-rate whip Apollo! + Whate'er they be, I'll eat my head, + But I will beat them hollow." + +Fred Vincy, we have seen. had a debt on his mind, and though no +such immaterial burthen could depress that buoyant-hearted young +gentleman for many hours together, there were circumstances connected +with this debt which made the thought of it unusually importunate. +The creditor was Mr. Bambridge a horse-dealer of the neighborhood, +whose company was much sought in Middlemarch by young men understood +to be "addicted to pleasure." During the vacations Fred had naturally +required more amusements than he had ready money for, and Mr. Bambridge +had been accommodating enough not only to trust him for the hire +of horses and the accidental expense of ruining a fine hunter, +but also to make a small advance by which he might be able to meet some +losses at billiards. The total debt was a hundred and sixty pounds. +Bambridge was in no alarm about his money, being sure that young +Vincy had backers; but he had required something to show for it, +and Fred had at first given a bill with his own signature. +Three months later he had renewed this bill with the signature +of Caleb Garth. On both occasions Fred had felt confident that he +should meet the bill himself, having ample funds at disposal in +his own hopefulness. You will hardly demand that his confidence +should have a basis in external facts; such confidence, we know, +is something less coarse and materialistic: it is a comfortable +disposition leading us to expect that the wisdom of providence or +the folly of our friends, the mysteries of luck or the still greater +mystery of our high individual value in the universe, will bring +about agreeable issues, such as are consistent with our good taste +in costume, and our general preference for the best style of thing. +Fred felt sure that he should have a present from his uncle, +that he should have a run of luck, that by dint of "swapping" he +should gradually metamorphose a horse worth forty pounds into a horse +that would fetch a hundred at any moment--"judgment" being always +equivalent to an unspecified sum in hard cash. And in any case, +even supposing negations which only a morbid distrust could imagine, +Fred had always (at that time) his father's pocket as a last resource, +so that his assets of hopefulness had a sort of gorgeous superfluity +about them. Of what might be the capacity of his father's pocket, +Fred had only a vague notion: was not trade elastic? +And would not the deficiencies of one year be made up for by the +surplus of another? The Vincys lived in an easy profuse way, +not with any new ostentation, but according to the family habits +and traditions, so that the children had no standard of economy, +and the elder ones retained some of their infantine notion +that their father might pay for anything if he would. Mr. Vincy +himself had expensive Middlemarch habits--spent money on coursing, +on his cellar, and on dinner-giving, while mamma had those running +accounts with tradespeople, which give a cheerful sense of getting +everything one wants without any question of payment. But it was +in the nature of fathers, Fred knew, to bully one about expenses: +there was always a little storm over his extravagance if he had +to disclose a debt, and Fred disliked bad weather within doors. +He was too filial to be disrespectful to his father, and he +bore the thunder with the certainty that it was transient; +but in the mean time it was disagreeable to see his mother cry, +and also to be obliged to look sulky instead of having fun; +for Fred was so good-tempered that if he looked glum under scolding, +it was chiefly for propriety's sake. The easier course plainly, +was to renew the bill with a friend's signature. Why not? With the +superfluous securities of hope at his command, there was no reason why +he should not have increased other people's liabilities to any extent, +but for the fact that men whose names were good for anything +were usually pessimists, indisposed to believe that the universal +order of things would necessarily be agreeable to an agreeable +young gentleman. + +With a favor to ask we review our list of friends, do justice +to their more amiable qualities, forgive their little offenses, +and concerning each in turn, try to arrive at the conclusion that he +will be eager to oblige us, our own eagerness to be obliged being +as communicable as other warmth. Still there is always a certain +number who are dismissed as but moderately eager until the others +have refused; and it happened that Fred checked off all his friends +but one, on the ground that applying to them would be disagreeable; +being implicitly convinced that he at least (whatever might be +maintained about mankind generally) had a right to be free from +anything disagreeable. That he should ever fall into a thoroughly +unpleasant position--wear trousers shrunk with washing, eat cold mutton, +have to walk for want of a horse, or to "duck under" in any sort +of way--was an absurdity irreconcilable with those cheerful +intuitions implanted in him by nature. And Fred winced under the +idea of being looked down upon as wanting funds for small debts. +Thus it came to pass that the friend whom he chose to apply +to was at once the poorest and the kindest--namely, Caleb Garth. + +The Garths were very fond of Fred, as he was of them; for when he +and Rosamond were little ones, and the Garths were better off, +the slight connection between the two families through +Mr. Featherstone's double marriage (the first to Mr. Garth's sister, +and the second to Mrs. Vincy's) had led to an acquaintance which +was carried on between the children rather than the parents: +the children drank tea together out of their toy teacups, and spent +whole days together in play. Mary was a little hoyden, and Fred +at six years old thought her the nicest girl in the world making +her his wife with a brass ring which he had cut from an umbrella. +Through all the stages of his education he had kept his affection +for the Garths, and his habit of going to their house as a second +home, though any intercourse between them and the elders of his +family had long ceased. Even when Caleb Garth was prosperous, +the Vincys were on condescending terms with him and his wife, +for there were nice distinctions of rank in Middlemarch; and though +old manufacturers could not any more than dukes be connected +with none but equals, they were conscious of an inherent social +superiority which was defined with great nicety in practice, +though hardly expressible theoretically. Since then Mr. Garth +had failed in the building business, which he had unfortunately +added to his other avocations of surveyor, valuer, and agent, +had conducted that business for a time entirely for the benefit of +his assignees, and had been living narrowly, exerting himself to the +utmost that he might after all pay twenty shillings in the pound. +He had now achieved this, and from all who did not think it +a bad precedent, his honorable exertions had won him due esteem; +but in no part of the world is genteel visiting founded on esteem, +in the absence of suitable furniture and complete dinner-service. +Mrs. Vincy had never been at her ease with Mrs. Garth, and frequently +spoke of her as a woman who had had to work for her bread-- +meaning that Mrs. Garth had been a teacher before her marriage; +in which case an intimacy with Lindley Murray and Mangnall's Questions +was something like a draper's discrimination of calico trademarks, +or a courier's acquaintance with foreign countries: no woman +who was better off needed that sort of thing. And since Mary had +been keeping Mr. Featherstone's house, Mrs. Vincy's want of liking +for the Garths had been converted into something more positive, +by alarm lest Fred should engage himself to this plain girl, +whose parents "lived in such a small way." Fred, being aware of this, +never spoke at home of his visits to Mrs. Garth, which had of late +become more frequent, the increasing ardor of his affection +for Mary inclining him the more towards those who belonged to her. + +Mr. Garth had a small office in the town, and to this Fred went +with his request. He obtained it without much difficulty, +for a large amount of painful experience had not sufficed to make +Caleb Garth cautious about his own affairs, or distrustful of his +fellow-men when they had not proved themselves untrustworthy; +and he had the highest opinion of Fred, was "sure the lad +would turn out well--an open affectionate fellow, with a good +bottom to his character--you might trust him for anything." +Such was Caleb's psychological argument. He was one of those +rare men who are rigid to themselves and indulgent to others. +He had a certain shame about his neighbors' errors, and never spoke +of them willingly; hence he was not likely to divert his mind +from the best mode of hardening timber and other ingenious devices +in order to preconceive those errors. If he had to blame any one, +it was necessary for him to move all the papers within his reach, +or describe various diagrams with his stick, or make calculations +with the odd money in his pocket, before he could begin; and he +would rather do other men's work than find fault with their doing. +I fear he was a bad disciplinarian. + +When Fred stated the circumstances of his debt, his wish to meet it +without troubling his father, and the certainty that the money would +be forthcoming so as to cause no one any inconvenience, Caleb pushed +his spectacles upward, listened, looked into his favorite's clear +young eyes, and believed him, not distinguishing confidence about +the future from veracity about the past; but he felt that it was an +occasion for a friendly hint as to conduct, and that before giving +his signature he must give a rather strong admonition. Accordingly, +he took the paper and lowered his spectacles, measured the space at +his command, reached his pen and examined it, dipped it in the ink +and examined it again, then pushed the paper a little way from him, +lifted up his spectacles again, showed a deepened depression in the +outer angle of his bushy eyebrows, which gave his face a peculiar +mildness (pardon these details for once--you would have learned to +love them if you had known Caleb Garth), and said in a comfortable tone-- + +"It was a misfortune, eh, that breaking the horse's knees? +And then, these exchanges, they don't answer when you have 'cute +jockeys to deal with. You'll be wiser another time, my boy." + +Whereupon Caleb drew down his spectacles, and proceeded to write +his signature with the care which he always gave to that performance; +for whatever he did in the way of business he did well. +He contemplated the large well-proportioned letters and final flourish, +with his head a trifle on one side for an instant, then handed it +to Fred, said "Good-by," and returned forthwith to his absorption +in a plan for Sir James Chettam's new farm-buildings. + +Either because his interest in this work thrust the incident of +the signature from his memory, or for some reason of which Caleb +was more conscious, Mrs. Garth remained ignorant of the affair. + +Since it occurred, a change had come over Fred's sky, which altered his +view of the distance, and was the reason why his uncle Featherstone's +present of money was of importance enough to make his color come +and go, first with a too definite expectation, and afterwards with a +proportionate disappointment. His failure in passing his examination, +had made his accumulation of college debts the more unpardonable +by his father, and there had been an unprecedented storm at home. +Mr. Vincy had sworn that if he had anything more of that sort to put +up with, Fred should turn out and get his living how he could; +and he had never yet quite recovered his good-humored tone to his son, +who had especially enraged him by saying at this stage of things +that he did not want to be a clergyman, and would rather not "go +on with that." Fred was conscious that he would have been yet more +severely dealt with if his family as well as himself had not secretly +regarded him as Mr. Featherstone's heir; that old gentleman's pride +in him, and apparent fondness for him, serving in the stead of more +exemplary conduct--just as when a youthful nobleman steals jewellery +we call the act kleptomania, speak of it with a philosophical smile, +and never think of his being sent to the house of correction as if he +were a ragged boy who had stolen turnips. In fact, tacit expectations +of what would be done for him by uncle Featherstone determined +the angle at which most people viewed Fred Vincy in Middlemarch; +and in his own consciousness, what uncle Featherstone would do for him +in an emergency, or what he would do simply as an incorporated luck, +formed always an immeasurable depth of aerial perspective. But that +present of bank-notes, once made, was measurable, and being applied +to the amount of the debt, showed a deficit which had still to be +filled up either by Fred's "judgment" or by luck in some other shape. +For that little episode of the alleged borrowing, in which he had +made his father the agent in getting the Bulstrode certificate, +was a new reason against going to his father for money towards meeting +his actual debt. Fred was keen enough to foresee that anger would +confuse distinctions, and that his denial of having borrowed expressly +on the strength of his uncle's will would be taken as a falsehood. +He had gone to his father and told him one vexatious affair, +and he had left another untold: in such cases the complete +revelation always produces the impression of a previous duplicity. +Now Fred piqued himself on keeping clear of lies, and even fibs; +he often shrugged his shoulders and made a significant grimace at +what he called Rosamond's fibs (it is only brothers who can associate +such ideas with a lovely girl); and rather than incur the accusation +of falsehood he would even incur some trouble and self-restraint. +It was under strong inward pressure of this kind that Fred had taken +the wise step of depositing the eighty pounds with his mother. +It was a pity that he had not at once given them to Mr. Garth; +but he meant to make the sum complete with another sixty, and with a +view to this, he had kept twenty pounds in his own pocket as a sort +of seed-corn, which, planted by judgment, and watered by luck, +might yield more than threefold--a very poor rate of multiplication +when the field is a young gentleman's infinite soul, with all the +numerals at command. + +Fred was not a gambler: he had not that specific disease in which the +suspension of the whole nervous energy on a chance or risk becomes +as necessary as the dram to the drunkard; he had only the tendency +to that diffusive form of gambling which has no alcoholic intensity, +but is carried on with the healthiest chyle-fed blood, keeping up +a joyous imaginative activity which fashions events according +to desire, and having no fears about its own weather, only sees +the advantage there must be to others in going aboard with it. +Hopefulness has a pleasure in making a throw of any kind, +because the prospect of success is certain; and only a more generous +pleasure in offering as many as possible a share in the stake. +Fred liked play, especially billiards, as he liked hunting or riding +a steeple-chase; and he only liked it the better because he wanted +money and hoped to win. But the twenty pounds' worth of seed-corn +had been planted in vain in the seductive green plot--all of it at +least which had not been dispersed by the roadside--and Fred found +himself close upon the term of payment with no money at command +beyond the eighty pounds which he had deposited with his mother. +The broken-winded horse which he rode represented a present which +had been made to him a long while ago by his uncle Featherstone: +his father always allowed him to keep a horse, Mr. Vincy's own +habits making him regard this as a reasonable demand even for a son +who was rather exasperating. This horse, then, was Fred's property, +and in his anxiety to meet the imminent bill he determined to sacrifice +a possession without which life would certainly be worth little. +He made the resolution with a sense of heroism--heroism forced on him +by the dread of breaking his word to Mr. Garth, by his love for Mary +and awe of her opinion. He would start for Houndsley horse-fair +which was to be held the next morning, and--simply sell his horse, +bringing back the money by coach?--Well, the horse would hardly +fetch more than thirty pounds, and there was no knowing what +might happen; it would be folly to balk himself of luck beforehand. +It was a hundred to one that some good chance would fall in his way; +the longer he thought of it, the less possible it seemed that he +should not have a good chance, and the less reasonable that he should +not equip himself with the powder and shot for bringing it down. +He would ride to Houndsley with Bambridge and with Horrock "the vet," +and without asking them anything expressly, he should virtually get +the benefit of their opinion. Before he set out, Fred got the eighty +pounds from his mother. + +Most of those who saw Fred riding out of Middlemarch in company +with Bambridge and Horrock, on his way of course to Houndsley +horse-fair, thought that young Vincy was pleasure-seeking as usual; +and but for an unwonted consciousness of grave matters on hand, +he himself would have had a sense of dissipation, and of doing +what might be expected of a gay young fellow. Considering that Fred +was not at all coarse, that he rather looked down on the manners +and speech of young men who had not been to the university, +and that he had written stanzas as pastoral and unvoluptuous +as his flute-playing, his attraction towards Bambridge and Horrock +was an interesting fact which even the love of horse-flesh would +not wholly account for without that mysterious influence of Naming +which determinates so much of mortal choice. Under any other name +than "pleasure" the society of Messieurs Bambridge and Horrock must +certainly have been regarded as monotonous; and to arrive with them +at Houndsley on a drizzling afternoon, to get down at the Red Lion +in a street shaded with coal-dust, and dine in a room furnished with +a dirt-enamelled map of the county, a bad portrait of an anonymous +horse in a stable, His Majesty George the Fourth with legs and cravat, +and various leaden spittoons, might have seemed a hard business, +but for the sustaining power of nomenclature which determined +that the pursuit of these things was "gay." + +In Mr. Horrock there was certainly an apparent unfathomableness +which offered play to the imagination. Costume, at a glance, +gave him a thrilling association with horses (enough to specify +the hat-brim which took the slightest upward angle just to escape +the suspicion of bending downwards), and nature had given him +a face which by dint of Mongolian eyes, and a nose, mouth, and chin +seeming to follow his hat-brim in a moderate inclination upwards, +gave the effect of a subdued unchangeable sceptical smile, +of all expressions the most tyrannous over a susceptible mind, +and, when accompanied by adequate silence, likely to create the +reputation of an invincible understanding, an infinite fund of humor-- +too dry to flow, and probably in a state of immovable crust,-- +and a critical judgment which, if you could ever be fortunate +enough to know it, would be THE thing and no other. It is +a physiognomy seen in all vocations, but perhaps it has never been +more powerful over the youth of England than in a judge of horses. + +Mr. Horrock, at a question from Fred about his horse's fetlock, +turned sideways in his saddle, and watched the horse's action for the +space of three minutes, then turned forward, twitched his own bridle, +and remained silent with a profile neither more nor less sceptical +than it had been. + +The part thus played in dialogue by Mr. Horrock was terribly effective. +A mixture of passions was excited in Fred--a mad desire to thrash +Horrock's opinion into utterance, restrained by anxiety to retain +the advantage of his friendship. There was always the chance that +Horrock might say something quite invaluable at the right moment. + +Mr. Bambridge had more open manners, and appeared to give forth +his ideas without economy. He was loud, robust, and was sometimes +spoken of as being "given to indulgence"--chiefly in swearing, +drinking, and beating his wife. Some people who had lost by him +called him a vicious man; but he regarded horse-dealing as the finest +of the arts, and might have argued plausibly that it had nothing +to do with morality. He was undeniably a prosperous man, bore his +drinking better than others bore their moderation, and, on the whole, +flourished like the green bay-tree. But his range of conversation +was limited, and like the fine old tune, "Drops of brandy," gave you +after a while a sense of returning upon itself in a way that might +make weak heads dizzy. But a slight infusion of Mr. Bambridge was +felt to give tone and character to several circles in Middlemarch; +and he was a distinguished figure in the bar and billiard-room +at the Green Dragon. He knew some anecdotes about the heroes +of the turf, and various clever tricks of Marquesses and Viscounts +which seemed to prove that blood asserted its pre-eminence even +among black-legs; but the minute retentiveness of his memory was +chiefly shown about the horses he had himself bought and sold; +the number of miles they would trot you in no time without turning +a hair being, after the lapse of years, still a subject of passionate +asseveration, in which he would assist the imagination of his +hearers by solemnly swearing that they never saw anything like it. +In short, Mr. Bambridge was a man of pleasure and a gay companion. + +Fred was subtle, and did not tell his friends that he was going +to Houndsley bent on selling his horse: he wished to get indirectly +at their genuine opinion of its value, not being aware that a +genuine opinion was the last thing likely to be extracted from +such eminent critics. It was not Mr. Bambridge's weakness to be +a gratuitous flatterer. He had never before been so much struck +with the fact that this unfortunate bay was a roarer to a degree +which required the roundest word for perdition to give you any idea of it. + +"You made a bad hand at swapping when you went to anybody +but me, Vincy! Why, you never threw your leg across a finer +horse than that chestnut, and you gave him for this brute. +If you set him cantering, he goes on like twenty sawyers. +I never heard but one worse roarer in my life, and that was a roan: +it belonged to Pegwell, the corn-factor; he used to drive him in +his gig seven years ago, and he wanted me to take him, but I said, +`Thank you, Peg, I don't deal in wind-instruments.' That was what +I said. It went the round of the country, that joke did. But, +what the hell! the horse was a penny trumpet to that roarer of yours." + +"Why, you said just now his was worse than mine," said Fred, +more irritable than usual. + +"I said a lie, then," said Mr. Bambridge, emphatically. "There wasn't +a penny to choose between 'em." + +Fred spurred his horse, and they trotted on a little way. +When they slackened again, Mr. Bambridge said-- + +"Not but what the roan was a better trotter than yours." + +"I'm quite satisfied with his paces, I know," said Fred, who required +all the consciousness of being in gay company to support him; +"I say his trot is an uncommonly clean one, eh, Horrock?" + +Mr. Horrock looked before him with as complete a neutrality as if he +had been a portrait by a great master. + +Fred gave up the fallacious hope of getting a genuine opinion; +but on reflection he saw that Bambridge's depreciation and Horrock's +silence were both virtually encouraging, and indicated that they +thought better of the horse than they chose to say. + +That very evening, indeed, before the fair had set in, Fred thought +he saw a favorable opening for disposing advantageously of his horse, +but an opening which made him congratulate himself on his +foresight in bringing with him his eighty pounds. A young farmer, +acquainted with Mr. Bambridge, came into the Red Lion, and entered +into conversation about parting with a hunter, which he introduced +at once as Diamond, implying that it was a public character. +For himself he only wanted a useful hack, which would draw upon occasion; +being about to marry and to give up hunting. The hunter was in +a friend's stable at some little distance; there was still time +for gentlemen to see it before dark. The friend's stable had to be +reached through a back street where you might as easily have been +poisoned without expense of drugs as in any grim street of that +unsanitary period. Fred was not fortified against disgust by brandy, +as his companions were, but the hope of having at last seen the horse +that would enable him to make money was exhilarating enough to lead +him over the same ground again the first thing in the morning. +He felt sure that if he did not come to a bargain with the farmer, +Bambridge would; for the stress of circumstances, Fred felt, +was sharpening his acuteness and endowing him with all the +constructive power of suspicion. Bambridge had run down Diamond +in a way that he never would have done (the horse being a friend's) +if he had not thought of buying it; every one who looked at +the animal--even Horrock--was evidently impressed with its merit. +To get all the advantage of being with men of this sort, you must +know how to draw your inferences, and not be a spoon who takes +things literally. The color of the horse was a dappled gray, +and Fred happened to know that Lord Medlicote's man was on the look-out +for just such a horse. After all his running down, Bambridge let +it out in the course of the evening, when the farmer was absent, +that he had seen worse horses go for eighty pounds. Of course he +contradicted himself twenty times over, but when you know what is +likely to be true you can test a man's admissions. And Fred could +not but reckon his own judgment of a horse as worth something. +The farmer had paused over Fred's respectable though broken-winded +steed long enough to show that he thought it worth consideration, +and it seemed probable that he would take it, with five-and-twenty +pounds in addition, as the equivalent of Diamond. In that case Fred, +when he had parted with his new horse for at least eighty pounds, +would be fifty-five pounds in pocket by the transaction, and would +have a hundred and thirty-five pounds towards meeting the bill; +so that the deficit temporarily thrown on Mr. Garth would at +the utmost be twenty-five pounds. By the time he was hurrying +on his clothes in the morning, he saw so clearly the importance +of not losing this rare chance, that if Bambridge and Horrock had +both dissuaded him, he would not have been deluded into a direct +interpretation of their purpose: he would have been aware that those +deep hands held something else than a young fellow's interest. +With regard to horses, distrust was your only clew. But scepticism, +as we know, can never be thoroughly applied, else life would come +to a standstill: something we must believe in and do, and whatever +that something may be called, it is virtually our own judgment, +even when it seems like the most slavish reliance on another. +Fred believed in the excellence of his bargain, and even before +the fair had well set in, had got possession of the dappled gray, +at the price of his old horse and thirty pounds in addition--only five +pounds more than he had expected to give. + +But he felt a little worried and wearied, perhaps with mental debate, +and without waiting for the further gayeties of the horse-fair, he +set out alone on his fourteen miles' journey, meaning to take it +very quietly and keep his horse fresh. + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + "The offender's sorrow brings but small relief + To him who wears the strong offence's cross." + --SHAKESPEARE: Sonnets. + +I am sorry to say that only the third day after the propitious +events at Houndsley Fred Vincy had fallen into worse spirits than he +had known in his life before. Not that he had been disappointed +as to the possible market for his horse, but that before the bargain +could be concluded with Lord Medlicote's man, this Diamond, +in which hope to the amount of eighty pounds had been invested, +had without the slightest warning exhibited in the stable a most +vicious energy in kicking, had just missed killing the groom, +and had ended in laming himself severely by catching his leg in +a rope that overhung the stable-board. There was no more redress +for this than for the discovery of bad temper after marriage-- +which of course old companions were aware of before the ceremony. +For some reason or other, Fred had none of his usual elasticity +under this stroke of ill-fortune: he was simply aware that he +had only fifty pounds, that there was no chance of his getting +any more at present, and that the bill for a hundred and sixty +would be presented in five days. Even if he had applied to his +father on the plea that Mr. Garth should be saved from loss, +Fred felt smartingly that his father would angrily refuse to rescue +Mr. Garth from the consequence of what he would call encouraging +extravagance and deceit. He was so utterly downcast that he could +frame no other project than to go straight to Mr. Garth and tell +him the sad truth, carrying with him the fifty pounds, and getting +that sum at least safely out of his own hands. His father, being at +the warehouse, did not yet know of the accident: when he did, +he would storm about the vicious brute being brought into his stable; +and before meeting that lesser annoyance Fred wanted to get away +with all his courage to face the greater. He took his father's nag, +for he had made up his mind that when he had told Mr. Garth, +he would ride to Stone Court and confess all to Mary. In fact, +it is probable that but for Mary's existence and Fred's love for her, +his conscience would hare been much less active both in previously +urging the debt on his thought and impelling him not to spare +himself after his usual fashion by deferring an unpleasant task, +but to act as directly and simply as he could. Even much stronger +mortals than Fred Vincy hold half their rectitude in the mind of the +being they love best. "The theatre of all my actions is fallen," +said an antique personage when his chief friend was dead; and they +are fortunate who get a theatre where the audience demands their best. +Certainly it would have made a considerable difference to Fred at that +time if Mary Garth had had no decided notions as to what was admirable +in character. + +Mr. Garth was not at the office, and Fred rode on to his house, +which was a little way outside the town--a homely place with an orchard +in front of it, a rambling, old-fashioned, half-timbered building, +which before the town had spread had been a farm-house, but was +now surrounded with the private gardens of the townsmen. We get +the fonder of our houses if they have a physiognomy of their own, +as our friends have. The Garth family, which was rather a large one, +for Mary had four brothers and one sister, were very fond of their +old house, from which all the best furniture had long been sold. +Fred liked it too, knowing it by heart even to the attic which smelt +deliciously of apples and quinces, and until to-day he had never come +to it without pleasant expectations; but his heart beat uneasily now +with the sense that he should probably have to make his confession before +Mrs. Garth, of whom he was rather more in awe than of her husband. +Not that she was inclined to sarcasm and to impulsive sallies, +as Mary was. In her present matronly age at least, Mrs. Garth +never committed herself by over-hasty speech; having, as she said, +borne the yoke in her youth, and learned self-control. She had that +rare sense which discerns what is unalterable, and submits to it +without murmuring. Adoring her husband's virtues, she had very early +made up her mind to his incapacity of minding his own interests, +and had met the consequences cheerfully. She had been magnanimous +enough to renounce all pride in teapots or children's frilling, +and had never poured any pathetic confidences into the ears +of her feminine neighbors concerning Mr. Garth's want of prudence +and the sums he might have had if he had been like other men. +Hence these fair neighbors thought her either proud or eccentric, +and sometimes spoke of her to their husbands as "your fine Mrs. Garth." +She was not without her criticism of them in return, being more +accurately instructed than most matrons in Middlemarch, and--where is +the blameless woman?--apt to be a little severe towards her own sex, +which in her opinion was framed to be entirely subordinate. +On the other hand, she was disproportionately indulgent towards +the failings of men, and was often heard to say that these +were natural. Also, it must be admitted that Mrs. Garth was a trifle +too emphatic in her resistance to what she held to be follies: +the passage from governess into housewife had wrought itself a +little too strongly into her consciousness, and she rarely forgot +that while her grammar and accent were above the town standard, +she wore a plain cap, cooked the family dinner, and darned all +the stockings. She had sometimes taken pupils in a peripatetic fashion, +making them follow her about in the kitchen with their book or slate. +She thought it good for them to see that she could make an excellent +lather while she corrected their blunders "without looking,"-- +that a woman with her sleeves tucked up above her elbows might know +all about the Subjunctive Mood or the Torrid Zone--that, in short, +she might possess "education" and other good things ending in +"tion," and worthy to be pronounced emphatically, without being +a useless doll. When she made remarks to this edifying effect, +she had a firm little frown on her brow, which yet did not hinder +her face from looking benevolent, and her words which came forth +like a procession were uttered in a fervid agreeable contralto. +Certainly, the exemplary Mrs. Garth had her droll aspects, but her +character sustained her oddities, as a very fine wine sustains +a flavor of skin. + +Towards Fred Vincy she had a motherly feeling, and had always been +disposed to excuse his errors, though she would probably not have +excused Mary for engaging herself to him, her daughter being included +in that more rigorous judgment which she applied to her own sex. +But this very fact of her exceptional indulgence towards him made it +the harder to Fred that he must now inevitably sink in her opinion. +And the circumstances of his visit turned out to be still more +unpleasant than he had expected; for Caleb Garth had gone out early +to look at some repairs not far off. Mrs. Garth at certain hours was +always in the kitchen, and this morning she was carrying on several +occupations at once there--making her pies at the well-scoured deal +table on one side of that airy room, observing Sally's movements +at the oven and dough-tub through an open door, and giving +lessons to her youngest boy and girl, who were standing opposite +to her at the table with their books and slates before them. +A tub and a clothes-horse at the other end of the kitchen indicated +an intermittent wash of small things also going on. + +Mrs. Garth, with her sleeves turned above her elbows, deftly handling +her pastry--applying her rolling-pin and giving ornamental pinches, +while she expounded with grammatical fervor what were the right +views about the concord of verbs and pronouns with "nouns of +multitude or signifying many," was a sight agreeably amusing. +She was of the same curly-haired, square-faced type as Mary, +but handsomer, with more delicacy of feature, a pale skin, +a solid matronly figure, and a remarkable firmness of glance. +In her snowy-frilled cap she reminded one of that delightful +Frenchwoman whom we have all seen marketing, basket on arm. +Looking at the mother, you might hope that the daughter would become +like her, which is a prospective advantage equal to a dowry--the mother +too often standing behind the daughter like a malignant prophecy-- +"Such as I am, she will shortly be." + +"Now let us go through that once more," said Mrs. Garth, +pinching an apple-puff which seemed to distract Ben, an energetic +young male with a heavy brow, from due attention to the lesson. +"`Not without regard to the import of the word as conveying unity +or plurality of idea'--tell me again what that means, Ben." + +(Mrs. Garth, like more celebrated educators, had her favorite +ancient paths, and in a general wreck of society would have tried +to hold her "Lindley Murray" above the waves.) + +"Oh--it means--you must think what you mean," said Ben, rather peevishly. +"I hate grammar. What's the use of it?" + +"To teach you to speak and write correctly, so that you can +be understood," said Mrs. Garth, with severe precision. +"Should you like to speak as old Job does?" + +"Yes," said Ben, stoutly; "it's funnier. He says, `Yo goo'-- +that's just as good as `You go.'" + +"But he says, `A ship's in the garden,' instead of `a sheep,'" +said Letty, with an air of superiority. "You might think he meant +a ship off the sea." + +"No, you mightn't, if you weren't silly," said Ben. "How could +a ship off the sea come there?" + +"These things belong only to pronunciation, which is the least part +of grammar," said Mrs. Garth. "That apple-peel is to be eaten by +the pigs, Ben; if you eat it, I must give them your piece of pasty. +Job has only to speak about very plain things. How do you think +you would write or speak about anything more difficult, if you +knew no more of grammar than he does? You would use wrong words, +and put words in the wrong places, and instead of making people +understand you, they would turn away from you as a tiresome person. +What would you do then?" + +"I shouldn't care, I should leave off," said Ben, with a sense +that this was an agreeable issue where grammar was concerned. + +"I see you are getting tired and stupid, Ben," said Mrs. Garth, +accustomed to these obstructive arguments from her male offspring. +Having finished her pies, she moved towards the clothes-horse, +and said, "Come here and tell me the story I told you on Wednesday, +about Cincinnatus." + +"I know! he was a farmer," said Ben. + +"Now, Ben, he was a Roman--let ME tell," said Letty, using her +elbow contentiously. + +"You silly thing, he was a Roman farmer, and he was ploughing." + +"Yes, but before that--that didn't come first--people wanted him," +said Letty. + +"Well, but you must say what sort of a man he was first," +insisted Ben. "He was a wise man, like my father, and that made +the people want his advice. And he was a brave man, and could fight. +And so could my father--couldn't he, mother?" + +"Now, Ben, let me tell the story straight on, as mother told it us," +said Letty, frowning. "Please, mother, tell Ben not to speak." + +"Letty, I am ashamed of you," said her mother, wringing out the +caps from the tub. "When your brother began, you ought to have +waited to see if he could not tell the story. How rude you look, +pushing and frowning, as if you wanted to conquer with your elbows! +Cincinnatus, I am sure, would have been sorry to see his daughter +behave so." (Mrs. Garth delivered this awful sentence with much +majesty of enunciation, and Letty felt that between repressed +volubility and general disesteem, that of the Romans inclusive, +life was already a painful affair.) "Now, Ben." + +"Well--oh--well--why, there was a great deal of fighting, and they +were all blockheads, and--I can't tell it just how you told it-- +but they wanted a man to be captain and king and everything--" + +"Dictator, now," said Letty, with injured looks, and not without +a wish to make her mother repent. + +"Very well, dictator!" said Ben, contemptuously. "But that isn't +a good word: he didn't tell them to write on slates." + +"Come, come, Ben, you are not so ignorant as that," said Mrs. Garth, +carefully serious. "Hark, there is a knock at the door! Run, Letty, +and open it." + +The knock was Fred's; and when Letty said that her father was not in +yet, but that her mother was in the kitchen, Fred had no alternative. +He could not depart from his usual practice of going to see +Mrs. Garth in the kitchen if she happened to be at work there. +He put his arm round Letty's neck silently, and led her into +the kitchen without his usual jokes and caresses. + +Mrs. Garth was surprised to see Fred at this hour, but surprise +was not a feeling that she was given to express, and she only said, +quietly continuing her work-- + +"You, Fred, so early in the day? You look quite pale. +Has anything happened?" + +"I want to speak to Mr. Garth," said Fred, not yet ready to say more-- +"and to you also," he added, after a little pause, for he had no +doubt that Mrs. Garth knew everything about the bill, and he must +in the end speak of it before her, if not to her solely. + +"Caleb will be in again in a few minutes," said Mrs. Garth, who imagined +some trouble between Fred and his father. "He is sure not to be long, +because he has some work at his desk that must be done this morning. +Do you mind staying with me, while I finish my matters here?" + +"But we needn't go on about Cincinnatus, need we?" said Ben, +who had taken Fred's whip out of his hand, and was trying its +efficiency on the eat. + +"No, go out now. But put that whip down. How very mean of you +to whip poor old Tortoise! Pray take the whip from him, Fred." + +"Come, old boy, give it me," said Fred, putting out his hand. + +"Will you let me ride on your horse to-day?" said Ben, rendering up +the whip, with an air of not being obliged to do it. + +"Not to-day--another time. I am not riding my own horse." + +"Shall you see Mary to-day?" + +"Yes, I think so," said Fred, with an unpleasant twinge. + +"Tell her to come home soon, and play at forfeits, and make fun." + +"Enough, enough, Ben! run away," said Mrs. Garth, seeing that Fred +was teased. . . + +"Are Letty and Ben your only pupils now, Mrs. Garth?" said Fred, +when the children were gone and it was needful to say something +that would pass the time. He was not yet sure whether he should +wait for Mr. Garth, or use any good opportunity in conversation +to confess to Mrs. Garth herself, give her the money and ride away. + +"One--only one. Fanny Hackbutt comes at half past eleven. +I am not getting a great income now," said Mrs. Garth, smiling. +"I am at a low ebb with pupils. But I have saved my little +purse for Alfred's premium: I have ninety-two pounds. +He can go to Mr. Hanmer's now; he is just at the right age." + +This did not lead well towards the news that Mr. Garth was on +the brink of losing ninety-two pounds and more. Fred was silent. +"Young gentlemen who go to college are rather more costly than that," +Mrs. Garth innocently continued, pulling out the edging on a cap-border. +"And Caleb thinks that Alfred will turn out a distinguished engineer: +he wants to give the boy a good chance. There he is! I hear him +coming in. We will go to him in the parlor, shall we?" + +When they entered the parlor Caleb had thrown down his hat and was +seated at his desk. + +"What! Fred, my boy!" he said, in a tone of mild surprise, holding his +pen still undipped; "you are here betimes." But missing the usual +expression of cheerful greeting in Fred's face, he immediately added, +"Is there anything up at home?--anything the matter?" + +"Yes, Mr. Garth, I am come to tell something that I am afraid will +give you a bad opinion of me. I am come to tell you and Mrs. Garth +that I can't keep my word. I can't find the money to meet the bill +after all. I have been unfortunate; I have only got these fifty +pounds towards the hundred and sixty." + +While Fred was speaking, he had taken out the notes and laid them +on the desk before Mr. Garth. He had burst forth at once with the +plain fact, feeling boyishly miserable and without verbal resources. +Mrs. Garth was mutely astonished, and looked at her husband for +an explanation. Caleb blushed, and after a little pause said-- + +"Oh, I didn't tell you, Susan: I put my name to a bill for Fred; +it was for a hundred and sixty pounds. He made sure he could meet +it himself." + +There was an evident change in Mrs. Garth's face, but it was +like a change below the surface of water which remains smooth. +She fixed her eyes on Fred, saying-- + +"I suppose you have asked your father for the rest of the money +and he has refused you." + +"No," said Fred, biting his lip, and speaking with more difficulty; +"but I know it will be of no use to ask him; and unless it were of use, +I should not like to mention Mr. Garth's name in the matter." + +"It has come at an unfortunate time," said Caleb, in his hesitating way, +looking down at the notes and nervously fingering the paper, +"Christmas upon us--I'm rather hard up just now. You see, I have +to cut out everything like a tailor with short measure. What can +we do, Susan? I shall want every farthing we have in the bank. +It's a hundred and ten pounds, the deuce take it!" + +"I must give you the ninety-two pounds that I have put by for +Alfred's premium," said Mrs. Garth, gravely and decisively, +though a nice ear might have discerned a slight tremor in some +of the words. "And I have no doubt that Mary has twenty pounds +saved from her salary by this time. She will advance it." + +Mrs. Garth had not again looked at Fred, and was not in the least +calculating what words she should use to cut him the most effectively. +Like the eccentric woman she was, she was at present absorbed in +considering what was to be done, and did not fancy that the end could +be better achieved by bitter remarks or explosions. But she had made +Fred feel for the first time something like the tooth of remorse. +Curiously enough, his pain in the affair beforehand had consisted +almost entirely in the sense that he must seem dishonorable, +and sink in the opinion of the Garths: he had not occupied +himself with the inconvenience and possible injury that his breach +might occasion them, for this exercise of the imagination on +other people's needs is not common with hopeful young gentlemen. +Indeed we are most of us brought up in the notion that the highest +motive for not doing a wrong is something irrespective of the beings +who would suffer the wrong. But at this moment he suddenly saw +himself as a pitiful rascal who was robbing two women of their savings. + +"I shall certainly pay it all, Mrs. Garth--ultimately," he stammered out. + +"Yes, ultimately," said Mrs. Garth, who having a special dislike +to fine words on ugly occasions, could not now repress an epigram. +"But boys cannot well be apprenticed ultimately: they should be +apprenticed at fifteen." She had never been so little inclined +to make excuses for Fred. + +"I was the most in the wrong, Susan," said Caleb. "Fred made sure +of finding the money. But I'd no business to be fingering bills. +I suppose you have looked all round and tried all honest means?" +he added, fixing his merciful gray eyes on Fred. Caleb was too delicate, +to specify Mr. Featherstone. + +"Yes, I have tried everything--I really have. I should have had +a hundred and thirty pounds ready but for a misfortune with a horse +which I was about to sell. My uncle had given me eighty pounds, +and I paid away thirty with my old horse in order to get another which I +was going to sell for eighty or more--I meant to go without a horse-- +but now it has turned out vicious and lamed itself. I wish I and the +horses too had been at the devil, before I had brought this on you. +There's no one else I care so much for: you and Mrs. Garth have +always been so kind to me. However, it's no use saying that. +You will always think me a rascal now." + +Fred turned round and hurried out of the room, conscious that he +was getting rather womanish, and feeling confusedly that his being +sorry was not of much use to the Garths. They could see him mount, +and quickly pass through the gate. + +"I am disappointed in Fred Vincy," said Mrs. Garth. "I would not have +believed beforehand that he would have drawn you into his debts. +I knew he was extravagant, but I did not think that he would +be so mean as to hang his risks on his oldest friend, who could +the least afford to lose." + +"I was a fool, Susan:" + +"That you were," said the wife, nodding and smiling. "But I +should not have gone to publish it in the market-place. Why should +you keep such things from me? It is just so with your buttons: +you let them burst off without telling me, and go out with your +wristband hanging. If I had only known I might have been ready +with some better plan." + +"You are sadly cut up, I know, Susan," said Caleb, looking feelingly +at her. "I can't abide your losing the money you've scraped +together for Alfred." + +"It is very well that I HAD scraped it together; and it is you +who will have to suffer, for you must teach the boy yourself. +You must give up your bad habits. Some men take to drinking, +and you have taken to working without pay. You must indulge yourself +a little less in that. And you must ride over to Mary, and ask the +child what money she has." + +Caleb had pushed his chair back, and was leaning forward, shaking his +head slowly, and fitting his finger-tips together with much nicety. + +"Poor Mary!" he said. "Susan," he went on in a lowered tone, +"I'm afraid she may be fond of Fred." + +"Oh no! She always laughs at him; and he is not likely to think +of her in any other than a brotherly way." + +Caleb made no rejoinder, but presently lowered his spectacles, +drew up his chair to the desk, and said, "Deuce take the bill-- +I wish it was at Hanover! These things are a sad interruption +to business!" + +The first part of this speech comprised his whole store of maledictory +expression, and was uttered with a slight snarl easy to imagine. +But it would be difficult to convey to those who never heard him +utter the word "business," the peculiar tone of fervid veneration, +of religious regard, in which he wrapped it, as a consecrated +symbol is wrapped in its gold-fringed linen. + +Caleb Garth often shook his head in meditation on the value, +the indispensable might of that myriad-headed, myriad-handed labor +by which the social body is fed, clothed, and housed. It had laid +hold of his imagination in boyhood. The echoes of the great hammer +where roof or keel were a-making, the signal-shouts of the workmen, +the roar of the furnace, the thunder and plash of the engine, +were a sublime music to him; the felling and lading of timber, +and the huge trunk vibrating star-like in the distance along +the highway, the crane at work on the wharf, the piled-up produce +in warehouses, the precision and variety of muscular effort +wherever exact work had to be turned out,--all these sights of his +youth had acted on him as poetry without the aid of the poets. +had made a philosophy for him without the aid of philosophers, +a religion without the aid of theology. His early ambition had been +to have as effective a share as possible in this sublime labor, +which was peculiarly dignified by him with the name of "business;" +and though he had only been a short time under a surveyor, and had been +chiefly his own teacher, he knew more of land, building, and mining +than most of the special men in the county. + +His classification of human employments was rather crude, and, like the +categories of more celebrated men, would not be acceptable in these +advanced times. He divided them into "business, politics, preaching, +learning, and amusement." He had nothing to say against the last four; +but he regarded them as a reverential pagan regarded other gods +than his own. In the same way, he thought very well of all ranks, +but he would not himself have liked to be of any rank in which he +had not such close contact with "business" as to get often honorably +decorated with marks of dust and mortar, the damp of the engine, +or the sweet soil of the woods and fields. Though he had never +regarded himself as other than an orthodox Christian, and would argue +on prevenient grace if the subject were proposed to him, I think +his virtual divinities were good practical schemes, accurate work, +and the faithful completion of undertakings: his prince of darkness +was a slack workman. But there was no spirit of denial in Caleb, +and the world seemed so wondrous to him that he was ready to accept +any number of systems, like any number of firmaments, if they did +not obviously interfere with the best land-drainage, solid building, +correct measuring, and judicious boring (for coal). In fact, he had +a reverential soul with a strong practical intelligence. But he could +not manage finance: he knew values well, but he had no keenness +of imagination for monetary results in the shape of profit and loss: +and having ascertained this to his cost, he determined to give up +all forms of his beloved "business" which required that talent. +He gave himself up entirely to the many kinds of work which he could +do without handling capital, and was one of those precious men within +his own district whom everybody would choose to work for them, +because he did his work well, charged very little, and often declined +to charge at all. It is no wonder, then, that the Garths were poor, +and "lived in a small way." However, they did not mind it. + +CHAPTER XXV. + + "Love seeketh not itself to please, + Nor for itself hath any care + But for another gives its ease + And builds a heaven in hell's despair. + . . . . . . . + Love seeketh only self to please, + To bind another to its delight, + Joys in another's loss of ease, + And builds a hell in heaven's despite." + --W. BLAKE: Songs of Experience + +Fred Vincy wanted to arrive at Stone Court when Mary could not +expect him, and when his uncle was not down-stairs in that case +she might be sitting alone in the wainscoted parlor. He left his +horse in the yard to avoid making a noise on the gravel in front, +and entered the parlor without other notice than the noise of the +door-handle. Mary was in her usual corner, laughing over Mrs. Piozzi's +recollections of Johnson, and looked up with the fun still in her face. +It gradually faded as she saw Fred approach her without speaking, +and stand before her with his elbow on the mantel-piece, looking ill. +She too was silent, only raising her eyes to him inquiringly. + +"Mary," he began, "I am a good-for-nothing blackguard." + +"I should think one of those epithets would do at a time," said Mary, +trying to smile, but feeling alarmed. + +"I know you will never think well of me any more. You will think +me a liar. You will think me dishonest. You will think I didn't +care for you, or your father and mother. You always do make +the worst of me, I know." + +"I cannot deny that I shall think all that of you, Fred, if you give +me good reasons. But please to tell me at once what you have done. +I would rather know the painful truth than imagine it." + +"I owed money--a hundred and sixty pounds. I asked your father to put +his name to a bill. I thought it would not signify to him. I made +sure of paying the money myself, and I have tried as hard as I could. +And now, I have been so unlucky--a horse has turned out badly-- +I can only pay fifty pounds. And I can't ask my father for the money: +he would not give me a farthing. And my uncle gave me a hundred a +little while ago. So what can I do? And now your father has no ready +money to spare, and your mother will have to pay away her ninety-two +pounds that she has saved, and she says your savings must go too. +You see what a--" + +"Oh, poor mother, poor father!" said Mary, her eyes filling +with tears, and a little sob rising which she tried to repress. +She looked straight before her and took no notice of Fred, +all the consequences at home becoming present to her. He too +remained silent for some moments, feeling more miserable than ever. +"I wouldn't have hurt you for the world, Mary," he said at last. +"You can never forgive me." + +"What does it matter whether I forgive you?" said Mary, passionately. +"Would that make it any better for my mother to lose the money +she has been earning by lessons for four years, that she might +send Alfred to Mr. Hanmer's? Should you think all that pleasant +enough if I forgave you?" + +"Say what you like, Mary. I deserve it all." + +"I don't want to say anything," said Mary, more quietly, "and my +anger is of no use." She dried her eyes, threw aside her book, +rose and fetched her sewing. + +Fred followed her with his eyes, hoping that they would meet hers, +and in that way find access for his imploring penitence. But no! +Mary could easily avoid looking upward. + +"I do care about your mother's money going," he said, when she +was seated again and sewing quickly. "I wanted to ask you, Mary-- +don't you think that Mr. Featherstone--if you were to tell him-- +tell him, I mean, about apprenticing Alfred--would advance the money?" + +"My family is not fond of begging, Fred. We would rather work for +our money. Besides, you say that Mr. Featherstone has lately given +you a hundred pounds. He rarely makes presents; he has never made +presents to us. I am sure my father will not ask him for anything; +and even if I chose to beg of him, it would be of no use." + +"I am so miserable, Mary--if you knew how miserable I am, you would +be sorry for me." + +"There are other things to be more sorry for than that. But selfish +people always think their own discomfort of more importance than +anything else in the world. I see enough of that every day." + +"It is hardly fair to call me selfish. If you knew what things +other young men do, you would think me a good way off the worst." + +"I know that people who spend a great deal of money on +themselves without knowing how they shall pay, must be selfish. +They are always thinking of what they can get for themselves, +and not of what other people may lose." + +"Any man may be unfortunate, Mary, and find himself unable to pay +when he meant it. There is not a better man in the world than +your father, and yet he got into trouble." + +"How dare you make any comparison between my father and you, Fred?" +said Mary, in a deep tone of indignation. "He never got into +trouble by thinking of his own idle pleasures, but because he +was always thinking of the work he was doing for other people. +And he has fared hard, and worked hard to make good everybody's loss." + +"And you think that I shall never try to make good anything, Mary. +It is not generous to believe the worst of a man. When you have +got any power over him, I think you might try and use it to make +him better i but that is what you never do. However, I'm going," +Fred ended, languidly. "I shall never speak to you about anything again. +I'm very sorry for all the trouble I've caused--that's all." + +Mary had dropped her work out of her hand and looked up. +There is often something maternal even in a girlish love, and Mary's +hard experience had wrought her nature to an impressibility very +different from that hard slight thing which we call girlishness. +At Fred's last words she felt an instantaneous pang, something like +what a mother feels at the imagined sobs or cries of her naughty +truant child, which may lose itself and get harm. And when, +looking up, her eyes met his dull despairing glance, her pity +for him surmounted her anger and all her other anxieties. + +"Oh, Fred, how ill you look! Sit down a moment. Don't go yet. +Let me tell uncle that you are here. He has been wondering that +he has not seen you for a whole week." Mary spoke hurriedly, +saying the words that came first without knowing very well what +they were, but saying them in a half-soothing half-beseeching tone, +and rising as if to go away to Mr. Featherstone. Of course Fred +felt as if the clouds had parted and a gleam had come: he moved +and stood in her way. + +"Say one word, Mary, and I will do anything. Say you will not think +the worst of me--will not give me up altogether." + +"As if it were any pleasure to me to think ill of you," said Mary, +in a mournful tone. "As if it were not very painful to me to see you +an idle frivolous creature. How can you bear to be so contemptible, +when others are working and striving, and there are so many things +to be done--how can you bear to be fit for nothing in the world +that is useful? And with so much good in your disposition, Fred,-- +you might be worth a great deal." + +"I will try to be anything you like, Mary, if you will say that you +love me." + +"I should be ashamed to say that I loved a man who must always be +hanging on others, and reckoning on what they would do for him. +What will you be when you are forty? Like Mr. Bowyer, I suppose-- +just as idle, living in Mrs. Beck's front parlor--fat and shabby, +hoping somebody will invite you to dinner--spending your morning in +learning a comic song--oh no! learning a tune on the flute." + +Mary's lips had begun to curl with a smile as soon as she had +asked that question about Fred's future (young souls are mobile), +and before she ended, her face had its full illumination of fun. +To him it was like the cessation of an ache that Mary could laugh +at him, and with a passive sort of smile he tried to reach her hand; +but she slipped away quickly towards the door and said, "I shall +tell uncle. You MUST see him for a moment or two." + +Fred secretly felt that his future was guaranteed against the +fulfilment of Mary's sarcastic prophecies, apart from that "anything" +which he was ready to do if she would define it He never dared +in Mary's presence to approach the subject of his expectations from +Mr. Featherstone, and she always ignored them, as if everything +depended on himself. But if ever he actually came into the property, +she must recognize the change in his position. All this passed through +his mind somewhat languidly, before he went up to see his uncle. +He stayed but a little while, excusing himself on the ground that he +had a cold; and Mary did not reappear before he left the house. +But as he rode home, he began to be more conscious of being ill, +than of being melancholy. + +When Caleb Garth arrived at Stone Court soon after dusk, Mary was +not surprised, although he seldom had leisure for paying her a visit, +and was not at all fond of having to talk with Mr. Featherstone. +The old man, on the other hand, felt himself ill at ease with a +brother-in-law whom he could not annoy, who did not mind about +being considered poor, had nothing to ask of him, and understood +all kinds of farming and mining business better than he did. +But Mary had felt sure that her parents would want to see her, +and if her father had not come, she would have obtained leave to go +home for an hour or two the next day. After discussing prices during +tea with Mr. Featherstone Caleb rose to bid him good-by, and said, +"I want to speak to you, Mary." + +She took a candle into another large parlor, where there was no fire, +and setting down the feeble light on the dark mahogany table, +turned round to her father, and putting her arms round his neck kissed +him with childish kisses which he delighted in,--the expression +of his large brows softening as the expression of a great beautiful +dog softens when it is caressed. Mary was his favorite child, +and whatever Susan might say, and right as she was on all other subjects, +Caleb thought it natural that Fred or any one else should think +Mary more lovable than other girls. + +"I've got something to tell you, my dear," said Caleb in his +hesitating way. "No very good news; but then it might be worse." + +"About money, father? I think I know what it is." + +"Ay? how can that be? You see, I've been a bit of a fool again, +and put my name to a bill, and now it comes to paying; and your mother +has got to part with her savings, that's the worst of it, and even they +won't quite make things even. We wanted a hundred and ten pounds: +your mother has ninety-two, and I have none to spare in the bank; +and she thinks that you have some savings." + +"Oh yes; I have more than four-and-twenty pounds. I thought you +would come, father, so I put it in my bag. See! beautiful white +notes and gold." + +Mary took out the folded money from her reticule and put it into +her father's hand. + +"Well, but how--we only want eighteen--here, put the rest back, +child,--but how did you know about it?" said Caleb, who, in his +unconquerable indifference to money, was beginning to be chiefly +concerned about the relation the affair might have to Mary's affections. + +"Fred told me this morning." + +"Ah! Did he come on purpose?" + +"Yes, I think so. He was a good deal distressed." + +"I'm afraid Fred is not to be trusted, Mary," said the father, +with hesitating tenderness. "He means better than he acts, perhaps. +But I should think it a pity for any body's happiness to be wrapped +up in him, and so would your mother." + +"And so should I, father," said Mary, not looking up, but putting +the back of her father's hand against her cheek. + +"I don't want to pry, my dear. But I was afraid there might be +something between you and Fred, and I wanted to caution you. +You see, Mary"--here Caleb's voice became more tender; he had been +pushing his hat about on the table and looking at it, but finally he +turned his eyes on his daughter--"a woman, let her be as good as +she may, has got to put up with the life her husband makes for her. +Your mother has had to put up with a good deal because of me." + +Mary turned the back of her father's hand to her lips and smiled +at him. + +"Well, well, nobody's perfect, but"--here Mr. Garth shook his head +to help out the inadequacy of words--"what I am thinking of is-- +what it must be for a wife when she's never sure of her husband, +when he hasn't got a principle in him to make him more afraid of doing +the wrong thing by others than of getting his own toes pinched. +That's the long and the short of it, Mary. Young folks may get fond +of each other before they know what life is, and they may think +it all holiday if they can only get together; but it soon turns +into working day, my dear. However, you have more sense than most, +and you haven't been kept in cotton-wool: there may be no occasion +for me to say this, but a father trembles for his daughter, and you are +all by yourself here." + +"Don't fear for me, father," said Mary, gravely meeting +her father's eyes; "Fred has always been very good to me; +he is kind-hearted and affectionate, and not false, I think, +with all his self-indulgence. But I will never engage myself +to one who has no manly independence, and who goes on loitering +away his time on the chance that others will provide for him. +You and my mother have taught me too much pride for that." + +"That's right--that's right. Then I am easy," said Mr. Garth, +taking up his {hat or bet. ????} But it's hard to run away with +your earnings, eh child." + +"Father!" said Mary, in her deepest tone of remonstrance. +"Take pocketfuls of love besides to them all at home," was her +last word before he closed the outer door on himself. + +"I suppose your father wanted your earnings," said old Mr. Featherstone, +with his usual power of unpleasant surmise, when Mary returned +to him. "He makes but a tight fit, I reckon. You're of age now; +you ought to be saving for yourself." + +"I consider my father and mother the best part of myself, sir," +said Mary, coldly. + +Mr. Featherstone grunted: he could not deny that an ordinary sort +of girl like her might be expected to be useful, so he thought +of another rejoinder, disagreeable enough to be always apropos. +"If Fred Vincy comes to-morrow, now, don't you keep him chattering: +let him come up to me." + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +"He beats me and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! would it +were otherwise--that I could beat him while he railed at me.--" + --Troilus and Cressida. + +But Fred did not go to Stone Court the next day, for reasons that +were quite peremptory. From those visits to unsanitary Houndsley +streets in search of Diamond, he had brought back not only a bad +bargain in horse-flesh, but the further misfortune of some ailment +which for a day or two had deemed mere depression and headache, +but which got so much worse when he returned from his visit to Stone +Court that, going into the dining-room, he threw himself on the sofa, +and in answer to his mother's anxious question, said, "I feel very ill: +I think you must send for Wrench." + +Wrench came, but did not apprehend anything serious, spoke of a +"slight derangement," and did not speak of coming again on the morrow. +He had a due value for the Vincys' house, but the wariest men are apt +to be dulled by routine, and on worried mornings will sometimes go +through their business with the zest of the daily bell-ringer. +Mr. Wrench was a small, neat, bilious man, with a well-dressed wig: +he had a laborious practice, an irascible temper, a lymphatic wife +and seven children; and he was already rather late before setting out +on a four-miles drive to meet Dr. Minchin on the other side of Tipton, +the decease of Hicks, a rural practitioner, having increased Middlemarch +practice in that direction. Great statesmen err, and why not small +medical men? Mr. Wrench did not neglect sending the usual white parcels, +which this time had black and drastic contents. Their effect was +not alleviating to poor Fred, who, however, unwilling as he said +to believe that he was "in for an illness," rose at his usual easy +hour the next morning and went down-stairs meaning to breakfast, +but succeeded in nothing but in sitting and shivering by the fire. +Mr. Wrench was again sent for, but was gone on his rounds, +and Mrs. Vincy seeing her darling's changed looks and general misery, +began to cry and said she would send for Dr. Sprague. + +"Oh, nonsense, mother! It's nothing," said Fred, putting out his +hot dry hand to her, "I shall soon be all right. I must have taken +cold in that nasty damp ride." + +"Mamma!" said Rosamond, who was seated near the window (the +dining-room windows looked on that highly respectable street called +Lowick Gate), "there is Mr. Lydgate, stopping to speak to some one. +If I were you I would call him in. He has cured Ellen Bulstrode. +They say he cures every one." + +Mrs. Vincy sprang to the window and opened it in an instant, +thinking only of Fred and not of medical etiquette. Lydgate was +only two yards off on the other side of some iron palisading, +and turned round at the sudden sound of the sash, before she called +to him. In two minutes he was in the room, and Rosamond went out, +after waiting just long enough to show a pretty anxiety conflicting +with her sense of what was becoming. + +Lydgate had to hear a narrative in which Mrs. Vincy's mind insisted +with remarkable instinct on every point of minor importance, +especially on what Mr. Wrench had said and had not said about +coming again. That there might be an awkward affair with Wrench, +Lydgate saw at once; but the ease was serious enough to make him +dismiss that consideration: he was convinced that Fred was in the +pink-skinned stage of typhoid fever, and that he had taken just +the wrong medicines. He must go to bed immediately, must have a +regular nurse, and various appliances and precautions must be used, +about which Lydgate was particular. Poor Mrs. Vincy's terror at these +indications of danger found vent in such words as came most easily. +She thought it "very ill usage on the part of Mr. Wrench, who had +attended their house so many years in preference to Mr. Peacock, +though Mr. Peacock was equally a friend. Why Mr. Wrench should +neglect her children more than others, she could not for the life +of her understand. He had not neglected Mrs. Larcher's when they had +the measles, nor indeed would Mrs. Vincy have wished that he should. +And if anything should happen--" + +Here poor Mrs. Vincy's spirit quite broke down, and her Niobe throat +and good-humored face were sadly convulsed. This was in the hall +out of Fred's hearing, but Rosamond had opened the drawing-room door, +and now came forward anxiously. Lydgate apologized for Mr. Wrench, +said that the symptoms yesterday might have been disguising, +and that this form of fever was very equivocal in its beginnings: +he would go immediately to the druggist's and have a prescription +made up in order to lose no time, but he would write to Mr. Wrench +and tell him what had been done. + +"But you must come again--you must go on attending Fred. I can't +have my boy left to anybody who may come or not. I bear nobody +ill-will, thank God, and Mr. Wrench saved me in the pleurisy, +but he'd better have let me die--if--if--" + +"I will meet Mr. Wrench here, then, shall I?" said Lydgate, +really believing that Wrench was not well prepared to deal wisely +with a case of this kind. + +"Pray make that arrangement, Mr. Lydgate," said Rosamond, coming to +her mother's aid, and supporting her arm to lead her away. + +When Mr. Vincy came home he was very angry with Wrench, and did +not care if he never came into his house again. Lydgate should go +on now, whether Wrench liked it or not. It was no joke to have +fever in the house. Everybody must be sent to now, not to come +to dinner on Thursday. And Pritchard needn't get up any wine: +brandy was the best thing against infection. "I shall drink brandy," +added Mr. Vincy, emphatically--as much as to say, this was not +an occasion for firing with blank-cartridges. "He's an uncommonly +unfortunate lad, is Fred. He'd need have--some luck by-and-by to make +up for all this--else I don't know who'd have an eldest son." + +"Don't say so, Vincy," said the mother, with a quivering lip, +"if you don't want him to be taken from me." + +"It will worret you to death, Lucy; THAT I can see," said Mr. Vincy, +more mildly. "However, Wrench shall know what I think of the matter." +(What Mr. Vincy thought confusedly was, that the fever might somehow +have been hindered if Wrench had shown the proper solicitude about his-- +the Mayor's--family.) "I'm the last man to give in to the cry about +new doctors, or new parsons either--whether they're Bulstrode's +men or not. But Wrench shall know what I think, take it as he will." + +Wrench did not take it at all well. Lydgate was as polite as he +could be in his offhand way, but politeness in a man who has +placed you at a disadvantage is only an additional exasperation, +especially if he happens to have been an object of dislike beforehand. +Country practitioners used to be an irritable species, susceptible on +the point of honor; and Mr. Wrench was one of the most irritable +among them. He did not refuse to meet Lydgate in the evening, +but his temper was somewhat tried on the occasion. He had to hear +Mrs. Vincy say-- + +"Oh, Mr. Wrench, what have I ever done that you should use me so?-- +To go away, and never to come again! And my boy might have been +stretched a corpse!" + +Mr. Vincy, who had been keeping up a sharp fire on the enemy Infection, +and was a good deal heated in consequence, started up when he heard +Wrench come in, and went into the hall to let him know what he thought. + +"I'll tell you what, Wrench, this is beyond a joke," said the Mayor, +who of late had had to rebuke offenders with an official air, +and how broadened himself by putting his thumbs in his armholes.-- +"To let fever get unawares into a house like this. There are +some things that ought to be actionable, and are not so-- +that's my opinion." + +But irrational reproaches were easier to bear than the sense of +being instructed, or rather the sense that a younger man, like Lydgate, +inwardly considered him in need of instruction, for "in point of fact," +Mr. Wrench afterwards said, Lydgate paraded flighty, foreign notions, +which would not wear. He swallowed his ire for the moment, +but he afterwards wrote to decline further attendance in the case. +The house might be a good one, but Mr. Wrench was not going to truckle +to anybody on a professional matter. He reflected, with much probability +on his side, that Lydgate would by-and-by be caught tripping too, +and that his ungentlemanly attempts to discredit the sale of drugs +by his professional brethren, would by-and-by recoil on himself. +He threw out biting remarks on Lydgate's tricks, worthy only of a quack, +to get himself a factitious reputation with credulous people. +That cant about cures was never got up by sound practitioners. + +This was a point on which Lydgate smarted as much as Wrench could desire. +To be puffed by ignorance was not only humiliating, but perilous, +and not more enviable than the reputation of the weather-prophet. +He was impatient of the foolish expectations amidst which all work +must be carried on, and likely enough to damage himself as much +as Mr. Wrench could wish, by an unprofessional openness. + +However, Lydgate was installed as medical attendant on the Vincys, +and the event was a subject of general conversation in Middlemarch. +Some said, that the Vincys had behaved scandalously, that Mr. Vincy +had threatened Wrench, and that Mrs. Vincy had accused him of +poisoning her son. Others were of opinion that Mr. Lydgate's passing +by was providential, that he was wonderfully clever in fevers, +and that Bulstrode was in the right to bring him forward. +Many people believed that Lydgate's coming to the town at all was +really due to Bulstrode; and Mrs. Taft, who was always counting +stitches and gathered her information in misleading fragments +caught between the rows of her knitting, had got it into her head +that Mr. Lydgate was a natural son of Bulstrode's, a fact which +seemed to justify her suspicions of evangelical laymen. + +She one day communicated this piece of knowledge to Mrs. Farebrother, +who did not fail to tell her son of it, observing-- + +"I should not be surprised at anything in Bulstrode, but I should +be sorry to think it of Mr. Lydgate." + +"Why, mother," said Mr. Farebrother, after an explosive laugh, +"you know very well that Lydgate is of a good family in the North. +He never heard of Bulstrode before he came here." + +"That is satisfactory so far as Mr. Lydgate is concerned, Camden," +said the old lady, with an air of precision.--"But as to Bulstrode-- +the report may be true of some other son." + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +Let the high Muse chant loves Olympian: +We are but mortals, and must sing of man. + +An eminent philosopher among my friends, who can dignify even your +ugly furniture by lifting it into the serene light of science, +has shown me this pregnant little fact. Your pier-glass or extensive +surface of polished steel made to be rubbed by a housemaid, +will be minutely and multitudinously scratched in all directions; +but place now against it a lighted candle as a centre of illumination, +and lo! the scratches will seem to arrange themselves in a fine +series of concentric circles round that little sun. It is +demonstrable that the scratches are going everywhere impartially +and it is only your candle which produces the flattering illusion +of a concentric arrangement, its light falling with an exclusive +optical selection. These things are a parable. The scratches +are events, and the candle is the egoism of any person now absent-- +of Miss Vincy, for example. Rosamond had a Providence of her own +who had kindly made her more charming than other girls, and who +seemed to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Wrench's mistake +in order to bring her and Lydgate within effective proximity. +It would have been to contravene these arrangements if Rosamond +had consented to go away to Stone Court or elsewhere, as her +parents wished her to do, especially since Mr. Lydgate thought +the precaution needless. Therefore, while Miss Morgan and the +children were sent away to a farmhouse the morning after Fred's +illness had declared itself, Rosamond refused to leave papa and mamma. + +Poor mamma indeed was an object to touch any creature born of woman; +and Mr. Vincy, who doted on his wife, was more alarmed on her +account than on Fred's. But for his insistence she would have +taken no rest: her brightness was all bedimmed; unconscious of +her costume which had always been se fresh and gay, she was like +a sick bird with languid eye and plumage ruffled, her senses +dulled to the sights and sounds that used most to interest her. +Fred's delirium, in which he seemed to be wandering out of her reach, +tore her heart. After her first outburst against-Mr. Wrench +she went about very quietly: her one low cry was to Lydgate. +She would follow him out of the room and put her hand on his arm +moaning out, "Save my boy." Once she pleaded, "He has always been +good to me, Mr. Lydgate: he never had a hard word for his mother,"-- +as if poor Fred's suffering were an accusation against him. +All the deepest fibres of the mother's memory were stirred, and the +young man whose voice took a gentler tone when he spoke to her, +was one with the babe whom she had loved, with a love new to her, +before he was born. + +"I have good hope, Mrs. Vincy," Lydgate would say. "Come down with +me and let us talk about the food." In that way he led her to the +parlor where Rosamond was, and made a change for her, surprising her +into taking some tea or broth which had been prepared for her. +There was a constant understanding between him and Rosamond on +these matters. He almost always saw her before going to the sickroom, +and she appealed to him as to what she could do for mamma. +Her presence of mind and adroitness in carrying out his hints +were admirable, and it is not wonderful that the idea of seeing +Rosamond began to mingle itself with his interest in the case. +Especially when the critical stage was passed, and he began to feel +confident of Fred's recovery. In the more doubtful time, he had +advised calling in Dr. Sprague (who, if he could, would rather have +remained neutral on Wrench's account); but after two consultations, +the conduct of the case was left to Lydgate, and there was every reason +to make him assiduous. Morning and evening he was at Mr. Vincy's, +and gradually the visits became cheerful as Fred became simply feeble, +and lay not only in need of the utmost petting but conscious of it, +so that Mrs. Vincy felt as if, after all, the illness had made +a festival for her tenderness. + +Both father and mother held it an added reason for good spirits, +when old Mr. Featherstone sent messages by Lydgate, saying that +Fred-must make haste and get well, as he, Peter Featherstone, +could not do without him, and missed his visits sadly. The old +man himself was getting bedridden. Mrs. Vincy told these messages +to Fred when he could listen, and he turned towards her his delicate, +pinched face, from which all the thick blond hair had been cut away, +and in which the eyes seemed to have got larger, yearning for some +word about Mary--wondering what she felt about his illness. +No word passed his lips; but "to hear with eyes belongs to love's +rare wit," and the mother in the fulness of her heart not only +divined Fred's longing, but felt ready for any sacrifice in order +to satisfy him. + +"If I can only see my boy strong again," she said, in her loving folly; +"and who knows?--perhaps master of Stone Court! and he can marry +anybody he likes then." + +"Not if they won't have me, mother," said Fred. The illness had +made him childish, and tears came as he spoke. + +"Oh, take a bit of jelly, my dear," said Mrs. Vincy, +secretly incredulous of any such refusal. + +She never left Fred's side when her husband was not in the house, +and thus Rosamond was in the unusual position of being much alone. +Lydgate, naturally, never thought of staying long with her, yet it +seemed that the brief impersonal conversations they had together +were creating that peculiar intimacy which consists in shyness. +They were obliged to look at each other in speaking, and somehow the +looking could not be carried through as the matter of course which it +really was. Lydgate began to feel this sort of consciousness unpleasant +and one day looked down, or anywhere, like an ill-worked puppet. +But this turned out badly: the next day, Rosamond looked down, +and the consequence was that when their eyes met again, both were +more conscious than before. There was no help for this in science, +and as Lydgate did not want to flirt, there seemed to be no help +for it in folly. It was therefore a relief when neighbors no longer +considered the house in quarantine, and when the chances of seeing +Rosamond alone were very much reduced. + +But that intimacy of mutual embarrassment, in which each feels +that the other is feeling something, having once existed, +its effect is not to be done away with. Talk about the weather +and other well-bred topics is apt to seem a hollow device, +and behavior can hardly become easy unless it frankly recognizes +a mutual fascination--which of course need not mean anything deep +or serious. This was the way in which Rosamond and Lydgate slid +gracefully into ease, and made their intercourse lively again. +Visitors came and went as usual, there was once more music in +the drawing-room, and all the extra hospitality of Mr. Vincy's +mayoralty returned. Lydgate, whenever he could, took his seat +by Rosamond's side, and lingered to hear her music, calling himself +her captive--meaning, all the while, not to be her captive. +The preposterousness of the notion that he could at once set up a +satisfactory establishment as a married man was a sufficient guarantee +against danger. This play at being a little in love was agreeable, +and did not interfere with graver pursuits. Flirtation, after all, +was not necessarily a singeing process. Rosamond, for her part, +had never enjoyed the days so much in her life before: she was sure +of being admired by some one worth captivating, and she did not +distinguish flirtation from love, either in herself or in another. +She seemed to be sailing with a fair wind just whither she would go, +and her thoughts were much occupied with a handsome house in +Lowick Gate which she hoped would by-and-by be vacant. She was +quite determined, when she was married, to rid herself adroitly +of all the visitors who were not agreeable to her at her father's; +and she imagined the drawing-room in her favorite house with various +styles of furniture. + +Certainly her thoughts were much occupied with Lydgate himself; +he seemed to her almost perfect: if he had known his notes so that his +enchantment under her music had been less like an emotional elephant's, +and if he had been able to discriminate better the refinements of her +taste in dress, she could hardly have mentioned a deficiency in him. +How different he was from young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! +Those young men had not a notion of French, and could speak on +no subject with striking knowledge, except perhaps the dyeing +and carrying trades, which of course they were ashamed to mention; +they were Middlemarch gentry, elated with their silver-headed whips +and satin stocks, but embarrassed in their manners, and timidly jocose: +even Fred was above them, having at least the accent and manner +of a university man. Whereas Lydgate was always listened to, +bore himself with the careless politeness of conscious superiority, +and seemed to have the right clothes on by a certain natural affinity, +without ever having to think about them. Rosamond was proud when he +entered the room, and when he approached her with a distinguishing smile, +she had a delicious sense that she was the object of enviable homage. +If Lydgate had been aware of all the pride he excited in that +delicate bosom, he might have been just as well pleased as any +other man, even the most densely ignorant of humoral pathology +or fibrous tissue: he held it one of the prettiest attitudes of +the feminine mind to adore a man's pre-eminence without too precise +a knowledge of what it consisted in. But Rosamond was not one +of those helpless girls who betray themselves unawares, and whose +behavior is awkwardly driven by their impulses, instead of being +steered by wary grace and propriety. Do you imagine that her rapid +forecast and rumination concerning house-furniture and society +were ever discernible in her conversation, even with her mamma? +On the contrary, she would have expressed the prettiest surprise +and disapprobation if she had heard that another young lady had been +detected in that immodest prematureness--indeed, would probably +have disbelieved in its possibility. For Rosamond never showed +any unbecoming knowledge, and was always that combination of +correct sentiments, music, dancing, drawing, elegant note-writing, +private album for extracted verse, and perfect blond loveliness, +which made the irresistible woman for the doomed man of that date. +Think no unfair evil of her, pray: she had no wicked plots, +nothing sordid or mercenary; in fact, she never thought of money except +as something necessary which other people would always provide. +She was not in the habit of devising falsehoods, and if her statements +were no direct clew to fact, why, they were not intended in that light-- +they were among her elegant accomplishments, intended to please. +Nature had inspired many arts in finishing Mrs. Lemon's favorite pupil, +who by general consent (Fred's excepted) was a rare compound +of beauty, cleverness, and amiability. + +Lydgate found it more and more agreeable to be with her, and there +was no constraint now, there was a delightful interchange of influence +in their eyes, and what they said had that superfluity of meaning +for them, which is observable with some sense of flatness by a +third person; still they had no interviews or asides from which +a third person need have been excluded. In fact, they flirted; +and Lydgate was secure in the belief that they did nothing else. +If a man could not love and be wise, surely he could flirt +and be wise at the same time? Really, the men in Middlemarch, +except Mr. Farebrother, were great bores, and Lydgate did not care +about commercial politics or cards: what was he to do for relaxation? +He was often invited to the Bulstrodes'; but the girls there were +hardly out of the schoolroom; and Mrs. Bulstrode's NAIVE way +of conciliating piety and worldliness, the nothingness of this +life and the desirability of cut glass, the consciousness at once +of filthy rags and the best damask, was not a sufficient relief from +the weight of her husband's invariable seriousness. The Vincys' +house, with all its faults, was the pleasanter by contrast; besides, +it nourished Rosamond--sweet to look at as a half-opened blush-rose, +and adorned with accomplishments for the refined amusement of man. + +But he made some enemies, other than medical, by his success with +Miss Vincy. One evening he came into the drawing-room rather late, +when several other visitors were there. The card-table had drawn +off the elders, and Mr. Ned Plymdale (one of the good matches +in Middlemarch, though not one of its leading minds) was in +tete-a-tete with Rosamond. He had brought the last "Keepsake," +the gorgeous watered-silk publication which marked modern progress +at that time; and he considered himself very fortunate that he could +be the first to look over it with her, dwelling on the ladies and +gentlemen with shiny copper-plate cheeks and copper-plate smiles, +and pointing to comic verses as capital and sentimental stories +as interesting. Rosamond was gracious, and Mr. Ned was satisfied +that he had the very best thing in art and literature as a medium +for "paying addresses"--the very thing to please a nice girl. +He had also reasons, deep rather than ostensible, for being satisfied +with his own appearance. To superficial observers his chin had too +vanishing an aspect, looking as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. +And it did indeed cause him some difficulty about the fit of his +satin stocks, for which chins were at that time useful. + +"I think the Honorable Mrs. S. is something like you," said Mr. Ned. +He kept the book open at the bewitching portrait, and looked at it +rather languishingly. + +"Her back is very large; she seems to have sat for that," +said Rosamond, not meaning any satire, but thinking how red young +Plymdale's hands were, and wondering why Lydgate did not come. +She went on with her tatting all the while. + +"I did not say she was as beautiful as you are," said Mr. Ned, +venturing to look from the portrait to its rival. + +"I suspect you of being an adroit flatterer," said Rosamond, +feeling sure that she should have to reject this young gentleman +a second time. + +But now Lydgate came in; the book was closed before he reached +Rosamond's corner, and as he took his seat with easy confidence on +the other side of her, young Plymdale's jaw fell like a barometer +towards the cheerless side of change. Rosamond enjoyed not only +Lydgate's presence but its effect: she liked to excite jealousy. + +"What a late comer you are!" she said, as they shook hands. +"Mamma had given you up a little while ago. How do you find Fred?" + +"As usual; going on well, but slowly. I want him to go away-- +to Stone Court, for example. But your mamma seems to have +some objection." + +"Poor fellow!" said Rosamond, prettily. "You will see Fred +so changed," she added, turning to the other suitor; "we have +looked to Mr. Lydgate as our guardian angel during this illness." + +Mr. Ned smiled nervously, while Lydgate, drawing the "Keepsake" +towards him and opening it, gave a short scornful laugh and tossed +up his chill, as if in wonderment at human folly. + +"What are you laughing at so profanely?" said Rosamond, +with bland neutrality. + +"I wonder which would turn out to be the silliest--the engravings +or the writing here," said Lydgate, in his most convinced tone, +while he turned over the pages quickly, seeming to see all through the +book in no time, and showing his large white hands to much advantage, +as Rosamond thought. "Do look at this bridegroom coming out of church: +did you ever see such a `sugared invention'--as the Elizabethans +used to say? Did any haberdasher ever look so smirking? Yet I +will answer for it the story makes him one of the first gentlemen +in the land." + +"You are so severe, I am frightened at you," said Rosamond, +keeping her amusement duly moderate. Poor young Plymdale had lingered +with admiration over this very engraving, and his spirit was stirred. + +"There are a great many celebrated people writing in the `Keepsake,' +at all events," he said, in a tone at once piqued and timid. +"This is the first time I have heard it called silly." + +"I think I shall turn round on you and accuse you of being a Goth," +said Rosamond, looking at Lydgate with a smile. "I suspect you +know nothing about Lady Blessington and L. E. L." Rosamond herself +was not without relish for these writers, but she did not readily +commit herself by admiration, and was alive to the slightest hint +that anything was not, according to Lydgate, in the very highest taste. + +"But Sir Walter Scott--I suppose Mr. Lydgate knows him," +said young Plymdale, a little cheered by this advantage. + +"Oh, I read no literature now," said Lydgate, shutting the book, +and pushing it away. "I read so much when I was a lad, that I +suppose it will last me all my life. I used to know Scott's poems +by heart." + +"I should like to know when you left off," said Rosamond, "because +then I might be sure that I knew something which you did not know." + +"Mr. Lydgate would say that was not worth knowing," said Mr. Ned, +purposely caustic. + +"On the contrary," said Lydgate, showing no smart; but smiling +with exasperating confidence at Rosamond. "It would be worth +knowing by the fact that Miss Vincy could tell it me." + +Young Plymdale soon went to look at the whist-playing, thinking +that Lydgate was one of the most conceited, unpleasant fellows it +had ever been his ill-fortune to meet. + +"How rash you are!" said Rosamond, inwardly delighted. "Do you +see that you have given offence?" + +"What! is it Mr. Plymdale's book? I am sorry. I didn't think +about it." + +"I shall begin to admit what you said of yourself when you first +came here--that you are a bear, and want teaching by the birds." + +"Well, there is a bird who can teach me what she will. Don't I +listen to her willingly?" + +To Rosamond it seemed as if she and Lydgate were as good as engaged. +That they were some time to be engaged had long been an idea in her mind; +and ideas, we know, tend to a more solid kind of existence, the necessary +materials being at hand. It is true, Lydgate had the counter-idea +of remaining unengaged; but this was a mere negative, a shadow east +by other resolves which themselves were capable of shrinking. +Circumstance was almost sure to be on the side of Rosamond's idea, +which had a shaping activity and looked through watchful blue eyes, +whereas Lydgate's lay blind and unconcerned as a jelly-fish which gets +melted without knowing it. + +That evening when he went home, he looked at his phials to see +how a process of maceration was going on, with undisturbed interest; +and he wrote out his daily notes with as much precision as usual. +The reveries from which it was difficult for him to detach himself +were ideal constructions of something else than Rosamond's virtues, +and the primitive tissue was still his fair unknown. Moreover, he was +beginning to feel some zest for the growing though half-suppressed +feud between him and the other medical men, which was likely to become +more manifest, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new +hospital was about to be declared; and there were various inspiriting +signs that his non-acceptance by some of Peacock's patients might be +counterbalanced by the impression he had produced in other quarters. +Only a few days later, when he had happened to overtake Rosamond +on the Lowick road and had got down from his horse to walk by her +side until he had quite protected her from a passing drove, he had +been stopped by a servant on horseback with a message calling him +in to a house of some importance where Peacock had never attended; +and it was the second instance of this kind. The servant was Sir +James Chettam's, and the house was Lowick Manor. + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + 1st Gent. All times are good to seek your wedded home + Bringing a mutual delight. + + 2d Gent. Why, true. + The calendar hath not an evil day + For souls made one by love, and even death + Were sweetness, if it came like rolling waves + While they two clasped each other, and foresaw + No life apart. + +Mr. and Mrs. Casaubon, returning from their wedding journey, +arrived at Lowick Manor in the middle of January. A light snow +was falling as they descended at the door, and in the morning, +when Dorothea passed from her dressing-room avenue the blue-green +boudoir that we know of, she saw the long avenue of limes lifting +their trunks from a white earth, and spreading white branches +against the dun and motionless sky. The distant flat shrank +in uniform whiteness and low-hanging uniformity of cloud. +The very furniture in the room seemed to have shrunk since she +saw it before: the slag in the tapestry looked more like a ghost +in his ghostly blue-green world; the volumes of polite literature +in the bookcase looked morn like immovable imitations of books. +The bright fire of dry oak-boughs burning on the dogs seemed an +incongruous renewal of life and glow--like the figure of Dorothea +herself as she entered carrying the red-leather cases containing +the cameos for Celia. + +She was glowing from her morning toilet as only healthful youth +can glow: there was gem-like brightness on her coiled hair +and in her hazel eyes; there was warm red life in her lips; +her throat had a breathing whiteness above the differing white +of the fur which itself seemed to wind about her neck and cling +down her blue-gray pelisse with a tenderness gathered from her own, +a sentient commingled innocence which kept its loveliness against +the crystalline purity of the outdoor snow. As she laid the cameo- +cases on the table in the bow-window, she unconsciously kept her +hands on them, immediately absorbed in looking out on the still, +white enclosure which made her visible world. + +Mr. Casaubon, who had risen early complaining of palpitation, +was in the library giving audience to his curate Mr. Tucker. +By-and-by Celia would come in her quality of bridesmaid as well +as sister, and through the next weeks there would be wedding visits +received and given; all in continuance of that transitional life +understood to correspond with the excitement of bridal felicity, +and keeping up the sense of busy ineffectiveness, as of a dream +which the dreamer begins to suspect. The duties of her married life, +contemplated as so great beforehand, seemed to be shrinking with the +furniture and the white vapor-walled landscape. The clear heights +where she expected to walk in full communion had become difficult +to see even in her imagination; the delicious repose of the soul on +a complete superior had been shaken into uneasy effort and alarmed +with dim presentiment. When would the days begin of that active +wifely devotion which was to strengthen her husband's life and exalt +her own? Never perhaps, as she had preconceived them; but somehow-- +still somehow. In this solemnly pledged union of her life, +duty would present itself in some new form of inspiration and give +a new meaning to wifely love. + +Meanwhile there was the snow and the low arch of dun vapor-- +there was the stifling oppression of that gentlewoman's world, +where everything was done for her and none asked for her aid-- +where the sense of connection with a manifold pregnant existence +had to be kept up painfully as an inward vision, instead of coming +from without in claims that would have shaped her energies.-- +"What shall I do?" "Whatever you please, my dear: "that had been +her brief history since she had left off learning morning lessons +and practising silly rhythms on the hated piano. Marriage, which was +to bring guidance into worthy and imperative occupation, had not yet +freed her from the gentlewoman's oppressive liberty: it had not even +filled her leisure with the ruminant joy of unchecked tenderness. +Her blooming full-pulsed youth stood there in a moral imprisonment +which made itself one with the chill, colorless, narrowed landscape, +with the shrunken furniture, the never-read books, and the ghostly +stag in a pale fantastic world that seemed to be vanishing from +the daylight. + +In the first minutes when Dorothea looked out she felt nothing +but the dreary oppression; then came a keen remembrance, and turning +away from the window she walked round the room. The ideas and +hopes which were living in her mind when she first saw this room +nearly three months before were present now only as memories: +she judged them as we judge transient and departed things. +All existence seemed to beat with a lower pulse than her own, +and her religious faith was a solitary cry, the struggle out of a +nightmare in which every object was withering and shrinking away +from her. Each remembered thing in the room was disenchanted, +was deadened as an unlit transparency, till her wandering gaze came +to the group of miniatures, and there at last she saw something +which had gathered new breath and meaning: it was the miniature +of Mr. Casaubon's aunt Julia, who had made the unfortunate marriage-- +of Will Ladislaw's grandmother. Dorothea could fancy that it was +alive now--the delicate woman's face which yet had a headstrong look, +a peculiarity difficult to interpret. Was it only her friends +who thought her marriage unfortunate? or did she herself find it +out to be a mistake, and taste the salt bitterness of her tears +in the merciful silence of the night? What breadths of experience +Dorothea seemed to have passed over since she first looked at +this miniature! She felt a new companionship with it, as if it +had an ear for her and could see how she was looking at it. +Here was a woman who had known some difficulty about marriage. +Nay, the colors deepened, the lips and chin seemed to get larger, +the hair and eyes seemed to be sending out light, the face was +masculine and beamed on her with that full gaze which tells her +on whom it falls that she is too interesting for the slightest +movement of her eyelid to pass unnoticed and uninterpreted. +The vivid presentation came like a pleasant glow to Dorothea: +she felt herself smiling, and turning from the miniature sat down and +looked up as if she were again talking to a figure in front of her. +But the smile disappeared as she went on meditating, and at last she +said aloud-- + +"Oh, it was cruel to speak so! How sad--how dreadful!" + +She rose quickly and went out of the room, hurrying along the corridor, +with the irresistible impulse to go and see her husband and inquire +if she could do anything for him. Perhaps Mr. Tucker was gone +and Mr. Casaubon was alone in the library. She felt as if all +her morning's gloom would vanish if she could see her husband +glad because of her presence. + +But when she reached the head of the dark oak there was Celia +coming up, and below there was Mr. Brooke, exchanging welcomes +and congratulations with Mr. Casaubon. + +"Dodo!" said Celia, in her quiet staccato; then kissed her sister, +whose arms encircled her, and said no more. I think they both +cried a little in a furtive manner, while Dorothea ran down-stairs +to greet her uncle. + +"I need not ask how you are, my dear," said Mr. Brooke, after kissing +her forehead. "Rome has agreed with you, I see--happiness, frescos, +the antique--that sort of thing. Well, it's very pleasant to +have you back again, and you understand all about art now, eh? +But Casaubon is a little pale, I tell him--a little pale, you know. +Studying hard in his holidays is carrying it rather too far. +I overdid it at one time"--Mr. Brooke still held Dorothea's hand, +but had turned his face to Mr. Casaubon--"about topography, +ruins, temples--I thought I had a clew, but I saw it would carry +me too far, and nothing might come of it. You may go any length +in that sort of thing, and nothing may come of it, you know." + +Dorothea's eyes also were turned up to her husband's face with some +anxiety at the idea that those who saw him afresh after absence +might be aware of signs which she had not noticed. + +"Nothing to alarm you, my dear," said Mr. Brooke, observing +her expression. "A little English beef and mutton will soon make +a difference. It was all very well to look pale, sitting for the +portrait of Aquinas, you know--we got your letter just in time. +But Aquinas, now--he was a little too subtle, wasn't he? +Does anybody read Aquinas?" + +"He is not indeed an author adapted to superficial minds," +said Mr. Casaubon, meeting these timely questions with dignified patience. + +"You would like coffee in your own room, uncle?" said Dorothea, +coming to the rescue. + +"Yes; and you must go to Celia: she has great news to tell you, +you know. I leave it all to her." + +The blue-green boudoir looked much more cheerful when Celia was +seated there in a pelisse exactly like her sister's, surveying +the cameos with a placid satisfaction, while the conversation +passed on to other topics. + +"Do you think it nice to go to Rome on a wedding journey?" +said Celia, with her ready delicate blush which Dorothea was used +to on the smallest occasions. + +"It would not suit all--not you, dear, +for example," said Dorothea, quietly. +No one would ever know what she thought of a wedding journey to Rome. + +"Mrs. Cadwallader says it is nonsense, people going a long journey +when they are married. She says they get tired to death of +each other, and can't quarrel comfortably, as they would at home. +And Lady Chettam says she went to Bath." Celia's color changed +again and again--seemed + +To come and go with tidings from the heart, +As it a running messenger had been. + +It must mean more than Celia's blushing usually did. + +"Celia! has something happened?" said Dorothea, in a tone full +of sisterly feeling. "Have you really any great news to tell me?" + +"It was because you went away, Dodo. Then there was nobody but me +for Sir James to talk to," said Celia, with a certain roguishness +in her eyes. + +"I understand. It is as I used to hope and believe," said Dorothea, +taking her sister's face between her hands, and looking at her +half anxiously. Celia's marriage seemed more serious than it used +to do. + +"It was only three days ago," said Celia. "And Lady Chettam +is very kind." + +"And you are very happy?" + +"Yes. We are not going to be married yet. Because every thing +is to be got ready. And I don't want to be married so very soon, +because I think it is nice to be engaged. And we shall be married +all our lives after." + +"I do believe you could not marry better, Kitty. Sir James is a good, +honorable man," said Dorothea, warmly. + +"He has gone on with the cottages, Dodo. He will tell you about +them when he comes. Shall you be glad to see him?" + +"Of course I shall. How can you ask me?" + +"Only I was afraid you would be getting so learned," said Celia, +regarding Mr. Casaubon's learning as a kind of damp which might +in due time saturate a neighboring body. + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +"I found that no genius in another could please me. My unfortunate +paradoxes had entirely dried up that source of comfort."--GOLDSMITH. + +One morning, some weeks after her arrival at Lowick, Dorothea-- +but why always Dorothea? Was her point of view the only possible +one with regard to this marriage? protest against all our interest, +all our effort at understanding being given to the young skins that +look blooming in spite of trouble; for these too will get faded, +and will know the older and more eating griefs which we are helping +to neglect. In spite of the blinking eyes and white moles objectionable +to Celia, and the want of muscular curve which was morally painful +to Sir James, Mr. Casaubon had an intense consciousness within him, +and was spiritually a-hungered like the rest of us. He had done +nothing exceptional in marrying--nothing but what society sanctions, +and considers an occasion for wreaths and bouquets. It had occurred +to him that he must not any longer defer his intention of matrimony, +and he had reflected that in taking a wife, a man of good position +should expect and carefully choose a blooming young lady--the younger +the better, because more educable and submissive--of a rank +equal to his own, of religious principles, virtuous disposition, +and good understanding. On such a young lady he would make handsome +settlements, and he would neglect no arrangement for her happiness: +in return, he should receive family pleasures and leave behind him +that copy of himself which seemed so urgently required of a man-- +to the sonneteers of the sixteenth century. Times had altered +since then, and no sonneteer had insisted on Mr. Casaubon's leaving +a copy of himself; moreover, he had not yet succeeded in issuing +copies of his mythological key; but he had always intended to acquit +himself by marriage, and the sense that he was fast leaving the +years behind him, that the world was getting dimmer and that he +felt lonely, was a reason to him for losing no more time in overtaking +domestic delights before they too were left behind by the years. + +And when he had seen Dorothea he believed that he had found even +more than he demanded: she might really be such a helpmate to him +as would enable him to dispense with a hired secretary, an aid +which Mr. Casaubon had never yet employed and had a suspicious +dread of. (Mr. Casaubon was nervously conscious that he was +expected to manifest a powerful mind.) Providence, in its kindness, +had supplied him with the wife he needed. A wife, a modest +young lady, with the purely appreciative, unambitious abilities +of her sex, is sure to think her husband's mind powerful. +Whether Providence had taken equal care of Miss Brooke in presenting +her with Mr. Casaubon was an idea which could hardly occur to him. +Society never made the preposterous demand that a man should think +as much about his own qualifications for making a charming girl +happy as he thinks of hers for making himself happy. As if a man +could choose not only his wife hut his wife's husband! Or as if he +were bound to provide charms for his posterity in his own person!-- +When Dorothea accepted him with effusion, that was only natural; +and Mr. Casaubon believed that his happiness was going to begin. + +He had not had much foretaste of happiness in his previous life. +To know intense joy without a strong bodily frame, one must have an +enthusiastic soul. Mr. Casaubon had never had a strong bodily frame, +and his soul was sensitive without being enthusiastic: it was too +languid to thrill out of self-consciousness into passionate delight; +it went on fluttering in the swampy ground where it was hatched, +thinking of its wings and never flying. His experience was of +that pitiable kind which shrinks from pity, and fears most of all +that it should be known: it was that proud narrow sensitiveness +which has not mass enough to spare for transformation into sympathy, +and quivers thread-like in small currents of self-preoccupation +or at best of an egoistic scrupulosity. And Mr. Casaubon +had many scruples: he was capable of a severe self-restraint; +he was resolute in being a man of honor according to the code; +he would be unimpeachable by any recognized opinion. In conduct +these ends had been attained; but the difficulty of making his Key +to all Mythologies unimpeachable weighed like lead upon his mind; +and the pamphlets--or "Parerga" as he called them--by which he tested +his public and deposited small monumental records of his march, +were far from having been seen in all their significance. +He suspected the Archdeacon of not having read them; he was +in painful doubt as to what was really thought of them by the +leading minds of Brasenose, and bitterly convinced that his old +acquaintance Carp had been the writer of that depreciatory recension +which was kept locked in a small drawer of Mr. Casaubon's desk, +and also in a dark closet of his verbal memory. These were heavy +impressions to struggle against, and brought that melancholy +embitterment which is the consequence of all excessive claim: +even his religious faith wavered with his wavering trust in his +own authorship, and the consolations of the Christian hope in +immortality seemed to lean on the immortality of the still unwritten +Key to all Mythologies. For my part I am very sorry for him. +It is an uneasy lot at best, to be what we call highly taught and +yet not to enjoy: to be present at this great spectacle of life +and never to be liberated from a small hungry shivering self-- +never to be fully possessed by the glory we behold, never to have +our consciousness rapturously transformed into the vividness +of a thought, the ardor of a passion, the energy of an action, +but always to be scholarly and uninspired, ambitious and timid, +scrupulous and dim-sighted. Becoming a dean or even a bishop would +make little difference, I fear, to Mr. Casaubon's uneasiness. +Doubtless some ancient Greek has observed that behind the big mask +and the speaking-trumpet, there must always be our poor little +eyes peeping as usual and our timorous lips more or less under +anxious control. + +To this mental estate mapped out a quarter of a century before, +to sensibilities thus fenced in, Mr. Casaubon had thought of annexing +happiness with a lovely young bride; but even before marriage, +as we have seen, he found himself under a new depression in +the consciousness that the new bliss was not blissful to him. +Inclination yearned back to its old, easier custom. And the deeper +he went in domesticity the more did the sense of acquitting himself +and acting with propriety predominate over any other satisfaction. +Marriage, like religion and erudition, nay, like authorship itself, +was fated to become an outward requirement, and Edward Casaubon +was bent on fulfilling unimpeachably all requirements. Even drawing +Dorothea into use in his study, according to his own intention +before marriage, was an effort which he was always tempted to defer, +and but for her pleading insistence it might never have begun. +But she had succeeded in making it a matter of course that she should +take her place at an early hour in the library and have work either +of reading aloud or copying assigned her. The work had been easier +to define because Mr. Casaubon had adopted an immediate intention: +there was to be a new Parergon, a small monograph on some +lately traced indications concerning the Egyptian mysteries +whereby certain assertions of Warburton's could be corrected. +References were extensive even here, but not altogether shoreless; +and sentences were actually to be written in the shape wherein they +would be scanned by Brasenose and a less formidable posterity. +These minor monumental productions were always exciting to Mr. Casaubon; +digestion was made difficult by the interference of citations, +or by the rivalry of dialectical phrases ringing against each other +in his brain. And from the first there was to be a Latin dedication +about which everything was uncertain except that it was not to be +addressed to Carp: it was a poisonous regret to Mr. Casaubon that he +had once addressed a dedication to Carp in which he had numbered +that member of the animal kingdom among the viros nullo aevo +perituros, a mistake which would infallibly lay the dedicator open +to ridicule in the next age, and might even be chuckled over by Pike +and Tench in the present. + +Thus Mr. Casaubon was in one of his busiest epochs, and as I +began to say a little while ago, Dorothea joined him early in the +library where he had breakfasted alone. Celia at this time was on +a second visit to Lowick, probably the last before her marriage, +and was in the drawing-room expecting Sir James. + +Dorothea had learned to read the signs of her husband's mood, and she +saw that the morning had become more foggy there during the last hour. +She was going silently to her desk when he said, in that distant +tone which implied that he was discharging a disagreeable duty-- + +"Dorothea, here is a letter for you, which was enclosed in one +addressed to me." + +It was a letter of two pages, and she immediately looked at the signature. + +"Mr. Ladislaw! What can he have to say to me?" she exclaimed, +in a tone of pleased surprise. "But," she added, looking at +Mr. Casaubon, "I can imagine what he has written to you about." + +"You can, if you please, read the letter," said Mr. Casaubon, +severely pointing to it with his pen, and not looking at her. +"But I may as well say beforehand, that I must decline the proposal it +contains to pay a visit here. I trust I may be excused for desiring +an interval of complete freedom from such distractions as have been +hitherto inevitable, and especially from guests whose desultory +vivacity makes their presence a fatigue." + +There had been no clashing of temper between Dorothea and her +husband since that little explosion in Rome, which had left such +strong traces in her mind that it had been easier ever since +to quell emotion than to incur the consequence of venting it. +But this ill-tempered anticipation that she could desire visits +which might be disagreeable to her husband, this gratuitous defence +of himself against selfish complaint on her part, was too sharp +a sting to be meditated on until after it had been resented. +Dorothea had thought that she could have been patient with John Milton, +but she had never imagined him behaving in this way; and for a moment +Mr. Casaubon seemed to be stupidly undiscerning and odiously unjust. +Pity, that "new-born babe" which was by-and-by to rule many a +storm within her, did not "stride the blast" on this occasion. +With her first words, uttered in a tone that shook him, she startled +Mr. Casaubon into looking at her, and meeting the flash of her eyes. + +"Why do you attribute to me a wish for anything that would annoy you? +You speak to me as if I were something you had to contend against. +Wait at least till I appear to consult my own pleasure apart +from yours." + +"Dorothea, you are hasty," answered Mr. Casaubon, nervously. + +Decidedly, this woman was too young to be on the formidable level +of wifehood--unless she had been pale and feature less and taken +everything for granted. + +"I think it was you who were first hasty in your false suppositions +about my feeling," said Dorothea, in the same tone. The fire was +not dissipated yet, and she thought it was ignoble in her husband +not to apologize to her. + +"We will, if you please, say no more on this subject, Dorothea. +I have neither leisure nor energy for this kind of debate." + +Here Mr. Casaubon dipped his pen and made as if he would return to +his writing, though his hand trembled so much that the words seemed +to be written in an unknown character. There are answers which, +in turning away wrath, only send it to the other end of the room, +and to have a discussion coolly waived when you feel that justice +is all on your own side is even more exasperating in marriage than +in philosophy. + +Dorothea left Ladislaw's two letters unread on her husband's +writing-table and went to her own place, the scorn and indignation +within her rejecting the reading of these letters, just as we +hurl away any trash towards which we seem to have been suspected +of mean cupidity. She did not in the least divine the subtle +sources of her husband's bad temper about these letters: +she only knew that they had caused him to offend her. She began +to work at once, and her hand did not tremble; on the contrary, +in writing out the quotations which had been given to her the +day before, she felt that she was forming her letters beautifully, +and it seemed to her that she saw the construction of the Latin she +was copying, and which she was beginning to understand, more clearly +than usual. In her indignation there was a sense of superiority, +but it went out for the present in firmness of stroke, and did +not compress itself into an inward articulate voice pronouncing +the once "affable archangel" a poor creature. + +There had been this apparent quiet for half an hour, and Dorothea +had not looked away from her own table, when she heard the loud bang +of a book on the floor, and turning quickly saw Mr. Casaubon on the +library steps clinging forward as if he were in some bodily distress. +She started up and bounded towards him in an instant: he was evidently +in great straits for breath. Jumping on a stool she got close +to his elbow and said with her whole soul melted into tender alarm-- + +"Can you lean on me, dear?" + +He was still for two or three minutes, which seemed endless to her, +unable to speak or move, gasping for breath. When at last he +descended the three steps and fell backward in the large chair +which Dorothea had drawn close to the foot of the ladder, +he no longer gasped but seemed helpless and about to faint. +Dorothea rang the bell violently, and presently Mr. Casaubon was +helped to the couch: he did not faint, and was gradually reviving, +when Sir James Chettam came in, having been met in the hall with +the news that Mr. Casaubon had "had a fit in the library." + +"Good God! this is just what might have been expected," was his +immediate thought. If his prophetic soul had been urged to particularize, +it seemed to him that "fits" would have been the definite expression +alighted upon. He asked his informant, the butler, whether the +doctor had been sent for. The butler never knew his master want +the doctor before; but would it not be right to send for a physician? + +When Sir James entered the library, however, Mr. Casaubon could make +some signs of his usual politeness, and Dorothea, who in the reaction +from her first terror had been kneeling and sobbing by his side now +rose and herself proposed that some one should ride off for a medical man. + +"I recommend you to send for Lydgate," said Sir James. "My mother +has called him in, and she has found him uncommonly clever. +She has had a poor opinion of the physicians since my father's death." + +Dorothea appealed to her husband, and he made a silent sign of approval. +So Mr. Lydgate was sent for and he came wonderfully soon, for the +messenger, who was Sir James Chettam's man and knew Mr. Lydgate, met him +leading his horse along the Lowick road and giving his arm to Miss Vincy. + +Celia, in the drawing-room, had known nothing of the trouble till +Sir James told her of it. After Dorothea's account, he no longer +considered the illness a fit, but still something "of that nature." + +"Poor dear Dodo--how dreadful!" said Celia, feeling as much grieved +as her own perfect happiness would allow. Her little hands were clasped, +and enclosed by Sir James's as a bud is enfolded by a liberal calyx. +"It is very shocking that Mr. Casaubon should be ill; but I never +did like him. And I think he is not half fond enough of Dorothea; +and he ought to be, for I am sure no one else would have had him-- +do you think they would?" + +"I always thought it a horrible sacrifice of your sister," +said Sir James. + +"Yes. But poor Dodo never did do what other people do, and I think +she never will." + +"She is a noble creature," said the loyal-hearted Sir James. +He had just had a fresh impression of this kind, as he had seen +Dorothea stretching her tender arm under her husband's neck and +looking at him with unspeakable sorrow. He did not know how much +penitence there was in the sorrow. + +"Yes," said Celia, thinking it was very well for Sir James to say so, +but HE would not have been comfortable with Dodo. "Shall I go +to her? Could I help her, do you think?" + +"I think it would be well for you just to go and see her before +Lydgate comes," said Sir James, magnanimously. "Only don't stay long." + +While Celia was gone he walked up and down remembering what he had +originally felt about Dorothea's engagement, and feeling a revival +of his disgust at Mr. Brooke's indifference. If Cadwallader-- +if every one else had regarded the affair as he, Sir James, had done, +the marriage might have been hindered. It was wicked to let a +young girl blindly decide her fate in that way, without any effort +to save her. Sir James had long ceased to have any regrets on his +own account: his heart was satisfied with his engagement to Celia. +But he had a chivalrous nature (was not the disinterested service +of woman among the ideal glories of old chivalry?): his disregarded +love had not turned to bitterness; its death had made sweet odors-- +floating memories that clung with a consecrating effect to Dorothea. +He could remain her brotherly friend, interpreting her actions with +generous trustfulness. + +CHAPTER XXX. + + "Qui veut delasser hors de propos, lasse."--PASCAL. + +Mr. Casaubon had no second attack of equal severity with the first, +and in a few days began to recover his usual condition. +But Lydgate seemed to think the case worth a great deal of attention. +He not only used his stethoscope (which had not become a matter +of course in practice at that time), but sat quietly by his patient +and watched him. To Mr. Casaubon's questions about himself, +he replied that the source of the illness was the common error +of intellectual men--a too eager and monotonous application: +the remedy was, to be satisfied with moderate work, and to seek +variety of relaxation. Mr. Brooke, who sat by on one occasion, +suggested that Mr. Casaubon should go fishing, as Cadwallader did, +and have a turning-room, make toys, table-legs, and that kind +of thing. + +"In short, you recommend me to anticipate the arrival of my +second childhood," said poor Mr. Casaubon, with some bitterness. +"These things," he added, looking at Lydgate, "would be to me such +relaxation as tow-picking is to prisoners in a house of correction." + +"I confess," said Lydgate, smiling, "amusement is rather +an unsatisfactory prescription. It is something like telling +people to keep up their spirits. Perhaps I had better say, +that you must submit to be mildly bored rather than to go on working." + +"Yes, yes," said Mr. Brooke. "Get Dorothea to play back. gammon with +you in the evenings. And shuttlecock, now--I don't know a finer game +than shuttlecock for the daytime. I remember it all the fashion. +To be sure, your eyes might not stand that, Casaubon. But you +must unbend, you know. Why, you might take to some light study: +conchology, now: it always think that must be a light study. +Or get Dorothea to read you light things, Smollett--`Roderick Random,' +`Humphrey Clinker:' they are a little broad, but she may read +anything now she's married, you know. I remember they made me +laugh uncommonly--there's a droll bit about a postilion's breeches. +We have no such humor now. I have gone through all these things, +but they might be rather new to you." + +"As new as eating thistles," would have been an answer to represent +Mr. Casaubon's feelings. But he only bowed resignedly, with due +respect to his wife's uncle, and observed that doubtless the works +he mentioned had "served as a resource to a certain order of minds." + +"You see," said the able magistrate to Lydgate, when they were +outside the door, "Casaubon has been a little narrow: it leaves him +rather at a loss when you forbid him his particular work, which I +believe is something very deep indeed--in the line of research, +you know. I would never give way to that; I was always versatile. +But a clergyman is tied a little tight. If they would make him +a bishop, now!--he did a very good pamphlet for Peel. He would +have more movement then, more show; he might get a little flesh. +But I recommend you to talk to Mrs. Casaubon. She is clever enough +for anything, is my niece. Tell her, her husband wants liveliness, +diversion: put her on amusing tactics." + +Without Mr. Brooke's advice, Lydgate had determined on speaking +to Dorothea. She had not been present while her uncle was throwing +out his pleasant suggestions as to the mode in which life at Lowick +might be enlivened, but she was usually by her husband's side, and the +unaffected signs of intense anxiety in her face and voice about whatever +touched his mind or health, made a drama which Lydgate was inclined +to watch. He said to himself that he was only doing right in telling +her the truth about her husband's probable future, but he certainly +thought also that it would be interesting to talk confidentially +with her. A medical man likes to make psychological observations, +and sometimes in the pursuit of such studies is too easily tempted +into momentous prophecy which life and death easily set at nought. +Lydgate had often been satirical on this gratuitous prediction, +and he meant now to be guarded. + +He asked for Mrs. Casaubon, but being told that she was out walking, +he was going away, when Dorothea and Celia appeared, both glowing +from their struggle with the March wind. When Lydgate begged to speak +with her alone, Dorothea opened the library door which happened +to be the nearest, thinking of nothing at the moment but what he +might have to say about Mr. Casaubon. It was the first time +she had entered this room since her husband had been taken ill, +and the servant had chosen not to open the shutters. But there was +light enough to read by from the narrow upper panes of the windows. + +"You will not mind this sombre light," said Dorothea, standing in +the middle of the room. "Since you forbade books, the library has +been out of the question. But Mr. Casaubon will soon be here again, +I hope. Is he not making progress?" + +"Yes, much more rapid progress than I at first expected. +Indeed, he is already nearly in his usual state of health." + +"You do not fear that the illness will return?" said Dorothea, +whose quick ear had detected some significance in Lydgate's tone. + +"Such cases are peculiarly difficult to pronounce upon," said Lydgate. +"The only point on which I can be confident is that it will be +desirable to be very watchful on Mr. Casaubon's account, lest he +should in any way strain his nervous power." + +"I beseech you to speak quite plainly," said Dorothea, in an +imploring tone. "I cannot bear to think that there might be +something which I did not know, and which, if I had known it, +would have made me act differently." The words came out like a cry: +it was evident that they were the voice of some mental experience +which lay not very far off. + +"Sit down," she added, placing herself on the nearest chair, +and throwing off her bonnet and gloves, with an instinctive discarding +of formality where a great question of destiny was concerned. + +"What you say now justifies my own view," said Lydgate. "I think it +is one's function as a medical man to hinder regrets of that sort +as far as possible. But I beg you to observe that Mr. Casaubon's +case is precisely of the kind in which the issue is most difficult +to pronounce upon. He may possibly live for fifteen years or more, +without much worse health than he has had hitherto." + +Dorothea had turned very pale, and when Lydgate paused she said +in a low voice, "You mean if we are very careful." + +"Yes--careful against mental agitation of all kinds, and against +excessive application." + +"He would be miserable, if he had to give up his work," said Dorothea, +with a quick prevision of that wretchedness. + +"I am aware of that. The only course is to try by all means, +direct and indirect, to moderate and vary his occupations. +With a happy concurrence of circumstances, there is, as I said, +no immediate danger from that affection of the heart, which I believe +to have been the cause of his late attack. On the other hand, +it is possible that the disease may develop itself more rapidly: +it is one of those eases in which death is sometimes sudden. +Nothing should be neglected which might be affected by such +an issue." + +There was silence for a few moments, while Dorothea sat as if she +had been turned to marble, though the life within her was so intense +that her mind had never before swept in brief time over an equal +range of scenes and motives. + +"Help me, pray," she said, at last, in the same low voice as before. +"Tell me what I can do." + +"What do you think of foreign travel? You have been lately in Rome, +I think." + +The memories which made this resource utterly hopeless were a new +current that shook Dorothea out of her pallid immobility. + +"Oh, that would not do--that would be worse than anything," she said +with a more childlike despondency, while the tears rolled down. +"Nothing will be of any use that he does not enjoy." + +"I wish that I could have spared you this pain," said Lydgate, +deeply touched, yet wondering about her marriage. Women just like +Dorothea had not entered into his traditions. + +"It was right of you to tell me. I thank you for telling me +the truth." + +"I wish you to understand that I shall not say anything +to enlighten Mr. Casaubon himself. I think it desirable +for him to know nothing more than that he must not overwork +him self, and must observe certain rules. Anxiety +of any kind would be precisely the most unfavorable condition for him." + +Lydgate rose, and Dorothea mechanically rose at the same time? +unclasping her cloak and throwing it off as if it stifled her. +He was bowing and quitting her, when an impulse which if she had +been alone would have turned into a prayer, made her say with a sob +in her voice-- + +"Oh, you are a wise man, are you not? You know all about life +and death. Advise me. Think what I can do. He has been laboring +all his life and looking forward. He minds about nothing else.-- +And I mind about nothing else--" + +For years after Lydgate remembered the impression produced in him +by this involuntary appeal--this cry from soul to soul, without other +consciousness than their moving with kindred natures in the same +embroiled medium, the same troublous fitfully illuminated life. +But what could he say now except that he should see Mr. Casaubon +again to-morrow? + +When he was gone, Dorothea's tears gushed forth, and relieved +her stifling oppression. Then she dried her eyes, reminded that +her distress must not be betrayed to her husband; and looked +round the room thinking that she must order the servant to attend +to it as usual, since Mr. Casaubon might now at any moment wish +to enter. On his writing-table there were letters which had lain +untouched since the morning when he was taken ill, and among them, +as Dorothea. well remembered, there were young Ladislaw's letters, +the one addressed to her still unopened. The associations of +these letters had been made the more painful by that sudden attack +of illness which she felt that the agitation caused by her anger +might have helped to bring on: it would be time enough to read +them when they were again thrust upon her, and she had had no +inclination to fetch them from the library. But now it occurred +to her that they should be put out of her husband's sight: +whatever might have been the sources of his annoyance about them, +he must, if possible, not be annoyed again; and she ran her eyes +first over the letter addressed to him to assure herself whether or +not it would be necessary to write in order to hinder the offensive visit. + +Will wrote from Rome, and began by saying that his obligations to +Mr. Casaubon were too deep for all thanks not to seem impertinent. +It was plain that if he were not grateful, he must be the +poorest-spirited rascal who had ever found a generous friend. +To expand in wordy thanks would be like saying, "I am honest." +But Will had come to perceive that his defects--defects which +Mr. Casaubon had himself often pointed to--needed for their correction +that more strenuous position which his relative's generosity +had hitherto prevented from being inevitable. He trusted that he +should make the best return, if return were possible, by showing +the effectiveness of the education for which he was indebted, +and by ceasing in future to need any diversion towards himself of funds +on which others might have a better claim. He was coming to England, +to try his fortune, as many other young men were obliged to do whose +only capital was in their brains. His friend Naumann had desired him +to take charge of the "Dispute"--the picture painted for Mr. Casaubon, +with whose permission, and Mrs. Casaubon's, Will would convey it to +Lowick in person. A letter addressed to the Poste Restante in Paris +within the fortnight would hinder him, if necessary, from arriving +at an inconvenient moment. He enclosed a letter to Mrs. Casaubon +in which he continued a discussion about art, begun with her in Rome. + +Opening her own letter Dorothea saw that it was a lively continuation +of his remonstrance with her fanatical sympathy and her want of +sturdy neutral delight in things as they were--an outpouring of his +young vivacity which it was impossible to read just now. She had +immediately to consider what was to be done about the other letter: +there was still time perhaps to prevent Will from coming to Lowick. +Dorothea ended by giving the letter to her uncle, who was still +in the house, and begging him to let Will know that Mr. Casaubon +had been ill, and that his health would not allow the reception +of any visitors. + +No one more ready than Mr. Brooke to write a letter: his only +difficulty was to write a short one, and his ideas in this case +expanded over the three large pages and the inward foldings. +He had simply said to Dorothea-- + +"To be sure, I will write, my dear. He's a very clever young fellow-- +this young Ladislaw--I dare say will be a rising young man. +It's a good letter--marks his sense of things, you know. +However, I will tell him about Casaubon." + +But the end of Mr. Brooke's pen was a thinking organ, evolving sentences, +especially of a benevolent kind, before the rest of his mind could +well overtake them. It expressed regrets and proposed remedies, +which, when Mr. Brooke read them, seemed felicitously worded-- +surprisingly the right thing, and determined a sequel which he +had never before thought of. In this case, his pen found it such +a pity young Ladislaw should not have come into the neighborhood. +just at that time, in order that Mr. Brooke might make his acquaintance +more fully, and that they might go over the long-neglected Italian +drawings together--it also felt such an interest in a young man +who was starting in life with a stock of ideas--that by the end of +the second page it had persuaded Mr. Brooke to invite young Ladislaw, +since he could not be received at Lowick, to come to Tipton Grange. +Why not? They could find a great many things to do together, +and this was a period of peculiar growth--the political horizon +was expanding, and--in short, Mr. Brooke's pen went off into a little +speech which it had lately reported for that imperfectly edited organ +the "Middlemarch Pioneer." While Mr. Brooke was sealing this letter, +he felt elated with an influx of dim projects:--a young man capable +of putting ideas into form, the "Pioneer" purchased to clear +the pathway for a new candidate, documents utilized--who knew what +might come of it all? Since Celia was going to marry immediately, +it would be very pleasant to have a young fellow at table with him, +at least for a time. + +But he went away without telling Dorothea what he had put into +the letter, for she was engaged with her husband, and--in fact, +these things were of no importance to her. + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + How will you know the pitch of that great bell + Too large for you to stir? Let but a flute + Play 'neath the fine-mixed metal listen close + Till the right note flows forth, a silvery rill. + Then shall the huge bell tremble--then the mass + With myriad waves concurrent shall respond + In low soft unison. + +Lydgate that evening spoke to Miss Vincy of Mrs. Casaubon, +and laid some emphasis on the strong feeling she appeared to have +for that formal studious man thirty years older than herself. + +"Of course she is devoted to her husband," said Rosamond, +implying a notion of necessary sequence which the scientific +man regarded as the prettiest possible for a woman; but she +was thinking at the same time that it was not so very melancholy +to be mistress of Lowick Manor with a husband likely to die soon. +"Do you think her very handsome?" + +"She certainly is handsome, but I have not thought about it," +said Lydgate. + +"I suppose it would be unprofessional," said Rosamond, dimpling. +"But how your practice is spreading! You were called in before +to the Chettams, I think; and now, the Casaubons." + +"Yes," said Lydgate, in a tone of compulsory admission. "But I +don't really like attending such people so well as the poor. +The cases are more monotonous, and one has to go through more fuss +and listen more deferentially to nonsense." + +"Not more than in Middlemarch," said Rosamond. "And at least you go +through wide corridors and have the scent of rose-leaves everywhere." + +"That is true, Mademoiselle de Montmorenci," said Lydgate, +just bending his head to the table and lifting with his fourth finger +her delicate handkerchief which lay at the mouth of her reticule, +as if to enjoy its scent, while he looked at her with a smile. + +But this agreeable holiday freedom with which Lydgate hovered +about the flower of Middlemarch, could not continue indefinitely. +It was not more possible to find social isolation in that town +than elsewhere, and two people persistently flirting could +by no means escape from "the various entanglements, weights, +blows, clashings, motions, by which things severally go on." +Whatever Miss Vincy did must be remarked, and she was perhaps the more +conspicuous to admirers and critics because just now Mrs. Vincy, +after some struggle, had gone with Fred to stay a little while at +Stone Court, there being no other way of at once gratifying old +Featherstone and keeping watch against Mary Garth, who appeared a less +tolerable daughter-in-law in proportion as Fred's illness disappeared. + +Aunt Bulstrode, for example, came a little oftener into Lowick +Gate to see Rosamond, now she was alone. For Mrs. Bulstrode had +a true sisterly feeling for her brother; always thinking that he +might have married better, but wishing well to the children. +Now Mrs. Bulstrode had a long-standing intimacy with Mrs. Plymdale. +They had nearly the same preferences in silks, patterns for underclothing, +china-ware, and clergymen; they confided their little troubles +of health and household management to each other, and various little +points of superiority on Mrs. Bulstrode's side, namely, more decided +seriousness, more admiration for mind, and a house outside the town, +sometimes served to give color to their conversation without dividing +them--well-meaning women both, knowing very little of their own motives. + +Mrs. Bulstrode, paying a morning visit to Mrs. Plymdale, happened to +say that she could not stay longer, because she was going to see +poor Rosamond. + +"Why do you say `poor Rosamond'?" said Mrs. Plymdale, a round-eyed +sharp little woman, like a tamed falcon. + +"She is so pretty, and has been brought up in such thoughtlessness. +The mother, you know, had always that levity about her, which makes +me anxious for the children." + +"Well, Harriet, if I am to speak my mind," said Mrs. Plymdale, +with emphasis, "I must say, anybody would suppose you and +Mr. Bulstrode would be delighted with what has happened, +for you have done everything to put Mr. Lydgate forward." + +"Selina, what do you mean?" said Mrs. Bulstrode, in genuine surprise. + +"Not but what I am truly thankful for Ned's sake," said Mrs. Plymdale. +"He could certainly better afford to keep such a wife than +some people can; but I should wish him to look elsewhere. +Still a mother has anxieties, and some young men would take to +a bad life in consequence. Besides, if I was obliged to speak, +I should say I was not fond of strangers coming into a town." + +"I don't know, Selina," said Mrs. Bulstrode, with a little emphasis +in her turn. "Mr. Bulstrode was a stranger here at one time. +Abraham and Moses were strangers in the land, and we are told to +entertain strangers. And especially," she added, after a slight pause, +"when they are unexceptionable." + +"I was not speaking in a religious sense, Harriet. I spoke +as a mother." + +"Selina, I am sure you have never heard me say anything against +a niece of mine marrying your son." + +"Oh, it is pride in Miss Vincy--I am sure it is nothing else," +said Mrs. Plymdale, who had never before given all her confidence +to "Harriet" on this subject. "No young man in Middlemarch +was good enough for her: I have heard her mother say as much. +That is not a Christian spirit, I think. But now, from all I hear, +she has found a man AS proud as herself." + +"You don't mean that there is anything between Rosamond and Mr. Lydgate?" +said Mrs. Bulstrode, rather mortified at finding out her own ignorance + +"Is it possible you don't know, Harriet?" + +"Oh, I go about so little; and I am not fond of gossip; I really +never hear any. You see so many people that I don't see. +Your circle is rather different from ours." + +"Well, but your own niece and Mr. Bulstrode's great favorite-- +and yours too, I am sure, Harriet! I thought, at one time, +you meant him for Kate, when she is a little older." + +"I don't believe there can be anything serious at present," +said Mrs. Bulstrode. "My brother would certainly have told me." + +"Well, people have different ways, but I understand that nobody +can see Miss Vincy and Mr. Lydgate together without taking them +to be engaged. However, it is not my business. Shall I put up +the pattern of mittens?" + +After this Mrs. Bulstrode drove to her niece with a mind newly weighted. +She was herself handsomely dressed, but she noticed with a little +more regret than usual that Rosamond, who was just come in and +met her in walking-dress, was almost as expensively equipped. +Mrs. Bulstrode was a feminine smaller edition of her brother, +and had none of her husband's low-toned pallor. She had a good +honest glance and used no circumlocution. + +"You are alone, I see, my dear," she said, as they entered the +drawing-room together, looking round gravely. Rosamond felt sure +that her aunt had something particular to say, and they sat down near +each other. Nevertheless, the quilling inside Rosamond's bonnet +was so charming that it was impossible not to desire the same kind +of thing for Kate, and Mrs. Bulstrode's eyes, which were rather fine, +rolled round that ample quilled circuit, while she spoke. + +"I have just heard something about you that has surprised me +very much, Rosamond." + +"What is that, aunt?" Rosamond's eyes also were roaming over her +aunt's large embroidered collar. + +"I can hardly believe it--that you should be engaged without my +knowing it--without your father's telling me." Here Mrs. Bulstrode's +eyes finally rested on Rosamond's, who blushed deeply, and said-- + +"I am not engaged, aunt." + +"How is it that every one says so, then--that it is the town's talk?" + +"The town's talk is of very little consequence, I think," +said Rosamond, inwardly gratified. + +"Oh, my dear, be more thoughtful; don't despise your neighbors so. +Remember you are turned twenty-two now, and you will have no fortune: +your father, I am sure, will not be able to spare you anything. +Mr. Lydgate is very intellectual and clever; I know there is an +attraction in that. I like talking to such men myself; and your +uncle finds him very useful. But the profession is a poor one here. +To be sure, this life is not everything; but it is seldom a medical +man has true religious views--there is too much pride of intellect. +And you are not fit to marry a poor man. + +"Mr. Lydgate is not a poor man, aunt. He has very high connections." + +"He told me himself he was poor." + +"That is because he is used to people who have a high style + +"My dear Rosamond, YOU must not think of living in high style." + +Rosamond looked down and played with her reticule. She was not +a fiery young lady and had no sharp answers, but she meant to live +as she pleased. + +"Then it is really true?" said Mrs. Bulstrode, looking very earnestly +at her niece. "You are thinking of Mr. Lydgate--there is some +understanding between you, though your father doesn't know. Be open, +my dear Rosamond: Mr. Lydgate has really made you an offer?" + +Poor Rosamond's feelings were very unpleasant. She had been quite +easy as to Lydgate's feeling and intention, but now when her aunt +put this question she did not like being unable to say Yes. +Her pride was hurt, but her habitual control of manner helped her. + +"Pray excuse me, aunt. I would rather not speak on the subject." + +"You would not give your heart to a man without a decided prospect, +I trust, my dear. And think of the two excellent offers I know +of that you have refused!--and one still within your reach, if you +will not throw it away. I knew a very great beauty who married +badly at last, by doing so. Mr. Ned Plymdale is a nice young man-- +some might think good-looking; and an only son; and a large business +of that kind is better than a profession. Not that marrying +is everything I would have you seek first the kingdom of God. +But a girl should keep her heart within her own power." + +"I should never give it to Mr. Ned Plymdale, if it were. I have already +refused him. If I loved, I should love at once and without change," +said Rosamond, with a great sense of being a romantic heroine, +and playing the part prettily. + +"I see how it is, my dear," said Mrs. Bulstrode, in a melancholy voice, +rising to go. "You have allowed your affections to be engaged +without return." + +"No, indeed, aunt," said Rosamond, with emphasis. + +"Then you are quite confident that Mr. Lydgate has a serious +attachment to you?" + +Rosamond's cheeks by this time were persistently burning, and she +felt much mortification. She chose to be silent, and her aunt went +away all the more convinced. + +Mr. Bulstrode in things worldly and indifferent was disposed to do +what his wife bade him, and she now, without telling her reasons, +desired him on the next opportunity to find out in conversation +with Mr. Lydgate whether he had any intention of marrying soon. +The result was a decided negative. Mr. Bulstrode, on being +cross-questioned, showed that Lydgate had spoken as no man +would who had any attachment that could issue in matrimony. +Mrs. Bulstrode now felt that she had a serious duty before her, +and she soon managed to arrange a tete-a-tete with Lydgate, +in which she passed from inquiries about Fred Vincy's health, +and expressions of her sincere anxiety for her brother's large family, +to general remarks on the dangers which lay before young people +with regard to their settlement in life. Young men were often wild +and disappointing, making little return for the money spent on them, +and a girl was exposed to many circumstances which might interfere +with her prospects. + +"Especially when she has great attractions, and her parents see +much company," said Mrs. Bulstrode "Gentlemen pay her attention, +and engross her all to themselves, for the mere pleasure of the moment, +and that drives off others. I think it is a heavy responsibility, +Mr. Lydgate, to interfere with the prospects of any girl." +Here Mrs. Bulstrode fixed her eyes on him, with an unmistakable +purpose of warning, if not of rebuke. + +"Clearly," said Lydgate, looking at her--perhaps even staring +a little in return. "On the other hand, a man must be a great +coxcomb to go about with a notion that he must not pay attention +to a young lady lest she should fall in love with him, or lest +others should think she must." + +"Oh, Mr. Lydgate, you know well what your advantages are. +You know that our young men here cannot cope with you. Where you +frequent a house it may militate very much against a girl's making +a desirable settlement in life, and prevent her from accepting +offers even if they are made." + +Lydgate was less flattered by his advantage over the Middlemarch Orlandos +than he was annoyed by the perception of Mrs. Bulstrode's meaning. +She felt that she had spoken as impressively as it was necessary to do, +and that in using the superior word "militate" she had thrown a noble +drapery over a mass of particulars which were still evident enough. + +Lydgate was fuming a little, pushed his hair back with one hand, +felt curiously in his waistcoat-pocket with the other, and then stooped +to beckon the tiny black spaniel, which had the insight to decline +his hollow caresses. It would not have been decent to go away, +because he had been dining with other guests, and had just taken tea. +But Mrs. Bulstrode, having no doubt that she had been understood, +turned the conversation. + +Solomon's Proverbs, I think, have omitted to say, that as the sore +palate findeth grit, so an uneasy consciousness heareth innuendoes. +The next day Mr. Farebrother, parting from Lydgate in the street, +supposed that they should meet at Vincy's in the evening. +Lydgate answered curtly, no--he had work to do--he must give up going +out in the evening. + +"What! you are going to get lashed to the mast, eh, and are stopping +your ears?" said the Vicar. "Well, if you don't mean to be won +by the sirens, you are right to take precautions in time." + +A few days before, Lydgate would have taken no notice of these words +as anything more than the Vicar's usual way of putting things. +They seemed now to convey an innuendo which confirmed the impression +that he had been making a fool of himself and behaving so as to +be misunderstood: not, he believed, by Rosamond herself; she, he +felt sure, took everything as lightly as he intended it. She had +an exquisite tact and insight in relation to all points of manners; +but the people she lived among were blunderers and busybodies. +However, the mistake should go no farther. He resolved--and kept +his resolution--that he would not go to Mr. Vincy's except on business. + +Rosamond became very unhappy. The uneasiness first stirred +by her aunt's questions grew and grew till at the end of ten +days that she had not seen Lydgate, it grew into terror at the +blank that might possibly come--into foreboding of that ready, +fatal sponge which so cheaply wipes out the hopes of mortals. +The world would have a new dreariness for her, as a wilderness that +a magician's spells had turned for a little while into a garden. +She felt that she was beginning to know the pang of disappointed love, +and that no other man could be the occasion of such delightful +aerial building as she had been enjoying for the last six months. +Poor Rosamond lost her appetite and felt as forlorn as Ariadne-- +as a charming stage Ariadne left behind with all her boxes full of +costumes and no hope of a coach. + +There are many wonderful mixtures in the world which are all +alike called love, and claim the privileges of a sublime rage +which is an apology for everything (in literature and the drama). +Happily Rosamond did not think of committing any desperate act: +she plaited her fair hair as beautifully as usual, and kept herself +proudly calm. Her most cheerful supposition was that her aunt +Bulstrode had interfered in some way to hinder Lydgate's visits: +everything was better than a spontaneous indifference in him. +Any one who imagines ten days too short a time--not for falling +into leanness, lightness, or other measurable effects of passion, but-- +for the whole spiritual circuit of alarmed conjecture and disappointment, +is ignorant of what can go on in the elegant leisure of a young +lady's mind. + +On the eleventh day, however, Lydgate when leaving Stone Court +was requested by Mrs. Vincy to let her husband know that there +was a marked change in Mr. Featherstone's health, and that she +wished him to come to Stone Court on that day. Now Lydgate +might have called at the warehouse, or might have written a +message on a leaf of his pocket-book and left it at the door. +Yet these simple devices apparently did not occur to him, +from which we may conclude that he had no strong objection to calling +at the house at an hour when Mr. Vincy was not at home, and leaving +the message with Miss Vincy. A man may, from various motives, +decline to give his company, but perhaps not even a sage would +be gratified that nobody missed him. It would be a graceful, +easy way of piecing on the new habits to the old, to have a few +playful words with Rosamond about his resistance to dissipation, +and his firm resolve to take long fasts even from sweet sounds. +It must be confessed, also, that momentary speculations as to all the +possible grounds for Mrs. Bulstrode's hints had managed to get woven +like slight clinging hairs into the more substantial web of his thoughts. + +Miss Vincy was alone, and blushed so deeply when Lydgate came in that he +felt a corresponding embarrassment, and instead of any playfulness, +he began at once to speak of his reason for calling, and to beg her, +almost formally, to deliver the message to her father. Rosamond, +who at the first moment felt as if her happiness were returning, +was keenly hurt by Lydgate's manner; her blush had departed, and she +assented coldly, without adding an unnecessary word, some trivial +chain-work which she had in her hands enabling her to avoid looking +at Lydgate higher than his chin. In all failures, the beginning +is certainly the half of the whole. After sitting two long moments +while he moved his whip and could say nothing, Lydgate rose to go, +and Rosamond, made nervous by her struggle between mortification +and the wish not to betray it, dropped her chain as if startled, +and rose too, mechanically. Lydgate instantaneously stooped to pick +up the chain. When he rose he was very near to a lovely little +face set on a fair long neck which he had been used to see turning +about under the most perfect management of self-contented grace. +But as he raised his eyes now he saw a certain helpless quivering +which touched him quite newly, and made him look at Rosamond with a +questioning flash. At this moment she was as natural as she had ever +been when she was five years old: she felt that her tears had risen, +and it was no use to try to do anything else than let them stay +like water on a blue flower or let them fall over her cheeks, +even as they would. + +That moment of naturalness was the crystallizing feather-touch: +it shook flirtation into love. Remember that the ambitious man +who was looking at those Forget-me-nots under the water was very +warm-hearted and rash. He did not know where the chain went; +an idea had thrilled through the recesses within him which had +a miraculous effect in raising the power of passionate love lying +buried there in no sealed sepulchre, but under the lightest, +easily pierced mould. His words were quite abrupt and awkward; +but the tone made them sound like an ardent, appealing avowal. + +"What is the matter? you are distressed. Tell me, pray." + +Rosamond had never been spoken to in such tones before. I am not sure +that she knew what the words were: but she looked at Lydgate and the +tears fell over her cheeks. There could have been no more complete +answer than that silence, and Lydgate, forgetting everything else, +completely mastered by the outrush of tenderness at the sudden +belief that this sweet young creature depended on him for her joy, +actually put his arms round her, folding her gently and protectingly-- +he was used to being gentle with the weak and suffering--and kissed +each of the two large tears. This was a strange way of arriving +at an understanding, but it was a short way. Rosamond was +not angry, but she moved backward a little in timid happiness, +and Lydgate could now sit near her and speak less incompletely. +Rosamond had to make her little confession, and he poured out words +of gratitude and tenderness with impulsive lavishment. In half +an hour he left the house an engaged man, whose soul was not his own, +but the woman's to whom he had bound himself. + +He came again in the evening to speak with Mr. Vincy, who, just returned +from Stone Court, was feeling sure that it would not be long before he +heard of Mr. Featherstone's demise. The felicitous word "demise," +which had seasonably occurred to him, had raised his spirits even +above their usual evening pitch. The right word is always a power, +and communicates its definiteness to our action. Considered as +a demise, old Featherstone's death assumed a merely legal aspect, +so that Mr. Vincy could tap his snuff-box over it and be jovial, +without even an intermittent affectation of solemnity; and Mr. Vincy +hated both solemnity and affectation. Who was ever awe struck +about a testator, or sang a hymn on the title to real property? +Mr. Vincy was inclined to take a jovial view of all things that evening: +he even observed to Lydgate that Fred had got the family constitution +after all, and would soon be as fine a fellow as ever again; +and when his approbation of Rosamond's engagement was asked for, +he gave it with astonishing facility, passing at once to general +remarks on the desirableness of matrimony for young men and maidens, +and apparently deducing from the whole the appropriateness of a little +more punch. + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + "They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk." + --SHAKESPEARE: Tempest. + +The triumphant confidence of the Mayor founded on Mr. Featherstone's +insistent demand that Fred and his mother should not leave him, +was a feeble emotion compared with all that was agitating the breasts +of the old man's blood-relations, who naturally manifested more +their sense of the family tie and were more visibly numerous now +that he had become bedridden. Naturally: for when "poor Peter" +had occupied his arm-chair in the wainscoted parlor, no assiduous +beetles for whom the cook prepares boiling water could have been +less welcome on a hearth which they had reasons for preferring, +than those persons whose Featherstone blood was ill-nourished, not +from penuriousness on their part, but from poverty. Brother Solomon +and Sister Jane were rich, and the family candor and total abstinence +from false politeness with which they were always received +seemed to them no argument that their brother in the solemn act +of making his will would overlook the superior claims of wealth. +Themselves at least he had never been unnatural enough to banish from +his house, and it seemed hardly eccentric that he should hare kept +away Brother Jonah, Sister Martha, and the rest, who had no shadow +of such claims. They knew Peter's maxim, that money was a good egg, +and should be laid in a warm nest. + +But Brother Jonah, Sister Martha, and all the needy exiles, held a +different point of view. Probabilities are as various as the faces +to be seen at will in fretwork or paper-hangings: every form is there, +from Jupiter to Judy, if you only look with creative inclination. +To the poorer and least favored it seemed likely that since Peter +had done nothing for them in his life, he would remember them +at the last. Jonah argued that men liked to make a surprise of +their wills, while Martha said that nobody need be surprised if he +left the best part of his money to those who least expected it. +Also it was not to be thought but that an own brother "lying there" +with dropsy in his legs must come to feel that blood was thicker +than water, and if he didn't alter his will, he might have money +by him. At any rate some blood-relations should be on the premises +and on the watch against those who were hardly relations at all. +Such things had been known as forged wills and disputed wills, +which seemed to have the golden-hazy advantage of somehow enabling +non-legatees to live out of them. Again, those who were no +blood-relations might be caught making away with things--and poor +Peter "lying there" helpless! Somebody should be on the watch. +But in this conclusion they were at one with Solomon and Jane; +also, some nephews, nieces, and cousins, arguing with still greater +subtilty as to what might be done by a man able to "will away" +his property and give himself large treats of oddity, felt in a handsome +sort of way that there was a family interest to be attended to, +and thought of Stone Court as a place which it would be nothing +but right for them to visit. Sister Martha, otherwise Mrs. Cranch, +living with some wheeziness in the Chalky Flats, could not undertake +the journey; but her son, as being poor Peter's own nephew, +could represent her advantageously, and watch lest his uncle Jonah +should make an unfair use of the improbable things which seemed +likely to happen. In fact there was a general sense running in +the Featherstone blood that everybody must watch everybody else, +and that it would be well for everybody else to reflect that the +Almighty was watching him. + +Thus Stone Court continually saw one or other blood-relation +alighting or departing, and Mary Garth had the unpleasant task +of carrying their messages to Mr. Featherstone, who would see +none of them, and sent her down with the still more unpleasant +task of telling them so. As manager of the household she felt +bound to ask them in good provincial fashion to stay and eat; +but she chose to consult Mrs. Vincy on the point of extra +down-stairs consumption now that Mr. Featherstone was laid up. + +"Oh, my dear, you must do things handsomely where there's last +illness and a property. God knows, I don't grudge them every ham +in the house--only, save the best for the funeral. Have some stuffed +veal always, and a fine cheese in cut. You must expect to keep +open house in these last illnesses," said liberal Mrs. Vincy, +once more of cheerful note and bright plumage. + +But some of the visitors alighted and did not depart after the handsome +treating to veal and ham. Brother Jonah, for example (there are +such unpleasant people in most families; perhaps even in the highest +aristocracy there are Brobdingnag specimens, gigantically in debt +and bloated at greater expense)--Brother Jonah, I say, having come +down in the world, was mainly supported by a calling which he was +modest enough not to boast of, though it was much better than swindling +either on exchange or turf, but which did not require his presence +at Brassing so long as he had a good corner to sit in and a supply +of food. He chose the kitchen-corner, partly because he liked +it best, and partly because he did not want to sit with Solomon, +concerning whom he had a strong brotherly opinion. Seated in a famous +arm-chair and in his best suit, constantly within sight of good cheer, +he had a comfortable consciousness of being on the premises, +mingled with fleeting suggestions of Sunday and the bar at the Green Man; +and he informed Mary Garth that he should not go out of reach of his +brother Peter while that poor fellow was above ground. The troublesome +ones in a family are usually either the wits or the idiots. +Jonah was the wit among the Featherstones, and joked with the maid- +servants when they came about the hearth, but seemed to consider +Miss Garth a suspicious character, and followed her with cold eyes. + +Mary would have borne this one pair of eyes with comparative ease, +but unfortunately there was young Cranch, who, having come all +the way from the Chalky Flats to represent his mother and watch +his uncle Jonah, also felt it his duty to stay and to sit chiefly +in the kitchen to give his uncle company. Young Cranch was not +exactly the balancing point between the wit and the idiot,-- +verging slightly towards the latter type, and squinting so as to +leave everything in doubt about his sentiments except that they +were not of a forcible character. When Mary Garth entered the +kitchen and Mr. Jonah Featherstone began to follow her with his cold +detective eyes, young Cranch turning his head in the same direction +seemed to insist on it that she should remark how he was squinting, +as if he did it with design, like the gypsies when Borrow read +the New Testament to them. This was rather too much for poor Mary; +sometimes it made her bilious, sometimes it upset her gravity. +One day that she had an opportunity she could not resist describing +the kitchen scene to Fred, who would not be hindered from +immediately going to see it, affecting simply to pass through. +But no sooner did he face the four eyes than he had to rush through +the nearest door which happened to lead to the dairy, and there +under the high roof and among the pans he gave way to laughter +which made a hollow resonance perfectly audible in the kitchen. +He fled by another doorway, but Mr. Jonah, who had not before seen +Fred's white complexion, long legs, and pinched delicacy of face, +prepared many sarcasms in which these points of appearance were +wittily combined with the lowest moral attributes. + +"Why, Tom, YOU don't wear such gentlemanly trousers-- +you haven't got half such fine long legs," said Jonah to his nephew, +winking at the same time, to imply that there was something more in +these statements than their undeniableness. Tom looked at his legs, +but left it uncertain whether he preferred his moral advantages +to a more vicious length of limb and reprehensible gentility of trouser. + +In the large wainscoted parlor too there were constantly pairs +of eyes on the watch, and own relatives eager to be "sitters-up." +Many came, lunched, and departed, but Brother Solomon and the lady +who had been Jane Featherstone for twenty-five years before she +was Mrs. Waule found it good to be there every day for hoars, +without other calculable occupation than that of observing the +cunning Mary Garth (who was so deep that she could be found out +in nothing) and giving occasional dry wrinkly indications of crying-- +as if capable of torrents in a wetter season--at the thought +that they were not allowed to go into Mr. Featherstone's room. +For the old man's dislike of his own family seemed to get stronger +as he got less able to amuse himself by saying biting things to them. +Too languid to sting, he had the more venom refluent in his blood. + +Not fully believing the message sent through Mary Garth, they had +presented themselves together within the door of the bedroom, +both in black--Mrs. Waule having a white handkerchief partially unfolded +in her hand--and both with faces in a sort of half-mourning purple; +while Mrs. Vincy with her pink cheeks and pink ribbons flying +was actually administering a cordial to their own brother, +and the light-complexioned Fred, his short hair curling as might +be expected in a gambler's, was lolling at his ease in a large chair. + +Old Featherstone no sooner caught sight of these funereal figures +appearing in spite of his orders than rage came to strengthen +him more successfully than the cordial. He was propped up on +a bed-rest, and always had his gold-headed stick lying by him. +He seized it now and swept it backwards and forwards in as large +an area as he could, apparently to ban these ugly spectres, +crying in a hoarse sort of screech-- + +"Back, back, Mrs. Waule! Back, Solomon!" + +"Oh, Brother. Peter," Mrs. Waule began--but Solomon put his hand +before her repressingly. He was a large-cheeked man, nearly seventy, +with small furtive eyes, and was not only of much blander temper but +thought himself much deeper than his brother Peter; indeed not likely +to be deceived in any of his fellow-men, inasmuch as they could not +well be more greedy and deceitful than he suspected them of being. +Even the invisible powers, he thought, were likely to be soothed +by a bland parenthesis here and there--coming from a man of property, +who might have been as impious as others. + +"Brother Peter," he said, in a wheedling yet gravely official tone, +"It's nothing but right I should speak to you about the Three Crofts +and the Manganese. The Almighty knows what I've got on my mind--" + +"Then he knows more than I want to know," said Peter, laying down +his stick with a show of truce which had a threat in it too, +for he reversed the stick so as to make the gold handle a club +in case of closer fighting, and looked hard at Solomon's bald head. + +"There's things you might repent of, Brother, for want of speaking +to me," said Solomon, not advancing, however. "I could sit up +with you to-night, and Jane with me, willingly, and you might take +your own time to speak, or let me speak." + +"Yes, I shall take my own time--you needn't offer me yours," +said Peter. + +"But you can't take your own time to die in, Brother," began Mrs. Waule, +with her usual woolly tone. "And when you lie speechless you may +be tired of having strangers about you, and you may think of me +and my children"--but here her voice broke under the touching +thought which she was attributing to her speechless brother; +the mention of ourselves being naturally affecting. + +"No, I shan't," said old Featherstone, contradictiously. +"I shan't think of any of you. I've made my will, I tell you, +I've made my will." Here he turned his head towards Mrs. Vincy, +and swallowed some more of his cordial. + +"Some people would be ashamed to fill up a place belonging by rights to +others," said Mrs. Waule, turning her narrow eyes in the same direction. + +"Oh, sister," said Solomon, with ironical softness, "you and me +are not fine, and handsome, and clever enough: we must be humble +and let smart people push themselves before us." + +Fred's spirit could not bear this: rising and looking +at Mr. Featherstone, he said, "Shall my mother +and I leave the room, sir, that you may be alone with your friends?" + +"Sit down, I tell you," said old Featherstone, snappishly. +"Stop where you are. Good-by, Solomon," he added, trying to wield +his stick again, but failing now that he had reversed the handle. +"Good-by, Mrs. Waule. Don't you come again." + +"I shall be down-stairs, Brother, whether or no," said Solomon. +"I shall do my duty, and it remains to be seen what the Almighty +will allow." + +"Yes, in property going out of families," said Mrs. Waule, +in continuation,--"and where there's steady young men to carry on. +But I pity them who are not such, and I pity their mothers. +Good-by, Brother Peter." + +"Remember, I'm the eldest after you, Brother, and prospered from +the first, just as you did, and have got land already by the name +of Featherstone," said Solomon, relying much on that reflection, +as one which might be suggested in the watches of the night. +"But I bid you good-by for the present." + +Their exit was hastened by their seeing old Mr. Featherstone pull his +wig on each side and shut his eyes with his mouth-widening grimace, +as if he were determined to be deaf and blind. + +None the less they came to Stone Court daily and sat below at the post +of duty, sometimes carrying on a slow dialogue in an undertone in which +the observation and response were so far apart, that any one hearing +them might have imagined himself listening to speaking automata, +in some doubt whether the ingenious mechanism would really work, +or wind itself up for a long time in order to stick and be silent. +Solomon and Jane would have been sorry to be quick: what that led +to might be seen on the other side of the wall in the person +of Brother Jonah. + +But their watch in the wainscoted parlor was sometimes varied +by the presence of other guests from far or near. Now that Peter +Featherstone was up-stairs, his property could be discussed with +all that local enlightenment to be found on the spot: some rural +and Middlemarch neighbors expressed much agreement with the family +and sympathy with their interest against the Vincys, and feminine +visitors were even moved to tears, in conversation with Mrs. Waule, +when they recalled the fact that they themselves had been disappointed +in times past by codicils and marriages for spite on the part +of ungrateful elderly gentlemen, who, it might have been supposed, +had been spared for something better. Such conversation paused suddenly, +like an organ when the bellows are let drop, if Mary Garth came into +the room; and all eyes were turned on her as a possible legatee, +or one who might get access to iron chests. + +But the younger men who were relatives or connections of the family, +were disposed to admire her in this problematic light, as a girl +who showed much conduct, and who among all the chances that were +flying might turn out to be at least a moderate prize. Hence she +had her share of compliments and polite attentions. + +Especially from Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, a distinguished bachelor +and auctioneer of those parts, much concerned in the sale of land +and cattle: a public character, indeed, whose name was seen on widely +distributed placards, and who might reasonably be sorry for those who +did not know of him. He was second cousin to Peter Featherstone, +and had been treated by him with more amenity than any other relative, +being useful in matters of business; and in that programme of his +funeral which the old man had himself dictated, he had been named +as a Bearer. There was no odious cupidity in Mr. Borthrop Trumbull-- +nothing more than a sincere sense of his own merit, which, he was aware, +in case of rivalry might tell against competitors; so that if Peter +Featherstone, who so far as he, Trumbull, was concerned, had behaved +like as good a soul as ever breathed, should have done anything handsome +by him, all he could say was, that he had never fished and fawned, +but had advised him to the best of his experience, which now extended +over twenty years from the time of his apprenticeship at fifteen, +and was likely to yield a knowledge of no surreptitious kind. +His admiration was far from being confined to himself, but was +accustomed professionally as well as privately to delight in estimating +things at a high rate. He was an amateur of superior phrases, +and never used poor language without immediately correcting himself-- +which was fortunate, as he was rather loud, and given to predominate, +standing or walking about frequently, pulling down his waistcoat +with the air of a man who is very much of his own opinion, +trimming himself rapidly with his fore-finger, and marking each new +series in these movements by a busy play with his large seals. +There was occasionally a little fierceness in his demeanor, +but it was directed chiefly against false opinion, of which there +is so much to correct in the world that a man of some reading +and experience necessarily has his patience tried. He felt that +the Featherstone family generally was of limited understanding, +but being a man of the world and a public character, took everything +as a matter of course, and even went to converse with Mr. Jonah +and young Cranch in the kitchen, not doubting that he had impressed +the latter greatly by his leading questions concerning the +Chalky Flats. If anybody had observed that Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, +being an auctioneer, was bound to know the nature of everything, +he would have smiled and trimmed himself silently with the sense +that he came pretty near that. On the whole, in an auctioneering way, +he was an honorable man, not ashamed of his business, and feeling +that "the celebrated Peel, now Sir Robert," if introduced to him, +would not fail to recognize his importance. + +"I don't mind if I have a slice of that ham, and a glass of that ale, +Miss Garth, if you will allow me," he said, coming into the parlor +at half-past eleven, after having had the exceptional privilege +of seeing old Featherstone, and standing with his back to the fire +between Mrs. Waule and Solomon. + +"It's not necessary for you to go out;--let me ring the bell." + +"Thank you," said Mary, "I have an errand." + +"Well, Mr. Trumbull, you're highly favored," said Mrs. Waule. + +"What! seeing the old man?" said the auctioneer, playing with his seals +dispassionately. "Ah, you see he has relied on me considerably." +Here he pressed his lips together, and frowned meditatively. + +"Might anybody ask what their brother has been saying?" said Solomon, +in a soft tone of humility, in which he had a sense of luxurious cunning, +he being a rich man and not in need of it. + +"Oh yes, anybody may ask," said Mr. Trumbull, with loud and +good-humored though cutting sarcasm. "Anybody may interrogate. +Any one may give their remarks an interrogative turn," he continued, +his sonorousness rising with his style. "This is constantly done +by good speakers, even when they anticipate no answer. It is what we +call a figure of speech--speech at a high figure, as one may say." +The eloquent auctioneer smiled at his own ingenuity. + +"I shouldn't be sorry to hear he'd remembered you, Mr. Trumbull," +said Solomon. "I never was against the deserving. It's the +undeserving I'm against." + +"Ah, there it is, you see, there it is," said Mr. Trumbull, +significantly. "It can't be denied that undeserving people have +been legatees, and even residuary legatees. It is so, with testamentary +dispositions." Again he pursed up his lips and frowned a little. + +"Do you mean to say for certain, Mr. Trumbull, that my brother has +left his land away from our family?" said Mrs. Waule, on whom, +as an unhopeful woman, those long words had a depressing effect. + +"A man might as well turn his land into charity land at once as +leave it to some people," observed Solomon, his sister's question +having drawn no answer. + +"What, Blue-Coat land?" said Mrs. Waule, again. "Oh, Mr. Trumbull, +you never can mean to say that. It would be flying in the face +of the Almighty that's prospered him." + +While Mrs. Waule was speaking, Mr. Borthrop Trumbull walked +away from the fireplace towards the window, patrolling with +his fore-finger round the inside of his stock, then along his +whiskers and the curves of his hair. He now walked to Miss +Garth's work-table, opened a book which lay there and read +the title aloud with pompous emphasis as if he were offering it for sale: + +"`Anne of Geierstein' (pronounced Jeersteen) or the `Maiden +of the Mist, by the author of Waverley.'" Then turning the page, +he began sonorously--"The course of four centuries has well-nigh +elapsed since the series of events which are related in the +following chapters took place on the Continent." He pronounced +the last truly admirable word with the accent on the last syllable, +not as unaware of vulgar usage, but feeling that this novel delivery +enhanced the sonorous beauty which his reading had given to the whole. + +And now the servant came in with the tray, so that the moments +for answering Mrs. Waule's question had gone by safely, while she +and Solomon, watching Mr. Trumbull's movements, were thinking that +high learning interfered sadly with serious affairs. Mr. Borthrop +Trumbull really knew nothing about old Featherstone's will; +but he could hardly have been brought to declare any ignorance +unless he had been arrested for misprision of treason. + +"I shall take a mere mouthful of ham and a glass of ale," +he said, reassuringly. "As a man with public business, I take a snack +when I can. I will back this ham," he added, after swallowing some +morsels with alarming haste, "against any ham in the three kingdoms. +In my opinion it is better than the hams at Freshitt Hall-- +and I think I am a tolerable judge." + +"Some don't like so much sugar in their hams," said Mrs. Waule. +"But my poor brother would always have sugar." + +"If any person demands better, he is at liberty to do so; +but, God bless me, what an aroma! I should be glad to buy in +that quality, I know. There is some gratification to a gentleman"-- +here Mr. Trumbull's voice conveyed an emotional remonstrance-- +"in having this kind of ham set on his table." + +He pushed aside his plate, poured out his glass of ale and drew +his chair a little forward, profiting by the occasion to look +at the inner side of his legs, which he stroked approvingly-- +Mr. Trumbull having all those less frivolous airs and gestures +which distinguish the predominant races of the north. + +"You have an interesting work there, I see, Miss Garth," he observed, +when Mary re-entered. "It is by the author of `Waverley': that +is Sir Walter Scott. I have bought one of his works myself-- +a very nice thing, a very superior publication, entitled `Ivanhoe.' +You will not get any writer to beat him in a hurry, I think-- +he will not, in my opinion, be speedily surpassed. I have just been +reading a portion at the commencement of `Anne of Jeersteen.' +It commences well." (Things never began with Mr. Borthrop Trumbull: +they al ways commenced, both in private life and on his handbills.) +"You are a reader, I see. Do you subscribe to our Middlemarch library?" + +"No," said Mary. "Mr. Fred Vincy brought this book." + +"I am a great bookman myself," returned Mr. Trumbull. +"I have no less than two hundred volumes in calf, and I +flatter myself they are well selected. Also pictures +by Murillo, Rubens, Teniers, Titian, Vandyck, and others. +I shall be happy to lend you any work you like to mention, Miss Garth." + +"I am much obliged," said Mary, hastening away again, "but I have +little time for reading." + +"I should say my brother has done something for HER in his will," +said Mr. Solomon, in a very low undertone, when she had shut the door +behind her, pointing with his head towards the absent Mary. + +"His first wife was a poor match for him, though," said Mrs. Waule. +"She brought him nothing: and this young woman is only her niece,-- +and very proud. And my brother has always paid her wage." + +"A sensible girl though, in my opinion," said Mr. Trumbull, finishing his +ale and starting up with an emphatic adjustment of his waistcoat. +"I have observed her when she has been mixing medicine in drops. +She minds what she is doing, sir. That is a great point in a woman, +and a great point for our friend up-stairs, poor dear old soul. +A man whose life is of any value should think of his wife as a nurse: +that is what I should do, if I married; and I believe I have lived +single long enough not to make a mistake in that line. Some men +must marry to elevate themselves a little, but when I am in need +of that, I hope some one will tell me so--I hope some individual +will apprise me of the fact. I wish you good morning, Mrs. Waule. +Good morning, Mr. Solomon. I trust we shall meet under less +melancholy auspices." + +When Mr. Trumbull had departed with a fine bow, Solomon, +leaning forward, observed to his sister, "You may depend, +Jane, my brother has left that girl a lumping sum." + +"Anybody would think so, from the way Mr. Trumbull talks," +said Jane. Then, after a pause, "He talks as if my daughters +wasn't to be trusted to give drops." + +"Auctioneers talk wild," said Solomon. "Not but what Trumbull has +made money." + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + "Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; + And let us all to meditation." + --2 Henry VI. + +That night after twelve o'clock Mary Garth relieved the watch in +Mr. Featherstone's room, and sat there alone through the small hours. +She often chose this task, in which she found some pleasure, +notwithstanding the old man's testiness whenever he demanded +her attentions. There were intervals in which she could sit +perfectly still, enjoying the outer stillness and the subdued light. +The red fire with its gently audible movement seemed like a solemn +existence calmly independent of the petty passions, the imbecile desires, +the straining after worthless uncertainties, which were daily moving +her contempt. Mary was fond of her own thoughts, and could amuse +herself well sitting in twilight with her hands in her lap; for, +having early had strong reason to believe that things were not likely +to be arranged for her peculiar satisfaction, she wasted no time +in astonishment and annoyance at that fact. And she had already +come to take life very much as a comedy in which she had a proud, +nay, a generous resolution not to act the mean or treacherous part. +Mary might have become cynical if she had not had parents whom +she honored, and a well of affectionate gratitude within her, which +was all the fuller because she had learned to make no unreasonable claims. + +She sat to-night revolving, as she was wont, the scenes of the day, +her lips often curling with amusement at the oddities to which her fancy +added fresh drollery: people were so ridiculous with their illusions, +carrying their fool's caps unawares, thinking their own lies +opaque while everybody else's were transparent, making themselves +exceptions to everything, as if when all the world looked yellow +under a lamp they alone were rosy. Yet there were some illusions +under Mary's eyes which were not quite comic to her. She was +secretly convinced, though she had no other grounds than her close +observation of old Featherstone's nature, that in spite of his +fondness for having the Vincys about him, they were as likely to be +disappointed as any of the relations whom he kept at a distance. +She had a good deal of disdain for Mrs. Vincy's evident alarm lest +she and Fred should be alone together, but it did not hinder her +from thinking anxiously of the way in which Fred would be affected, +if it should turn out that his uncle had left him as poor as ever. +She could make a butt of Fred when he was present, but she did +not enjoy his follies when he was absent. + +Yet she liked her thoughts: a vigorous young mind not overbalanced +by passion, finds a good in making acquaintance with life, and watches +its own powers with interest. Mary had plenty of merriment within. + +Her thought was not veined by any solemnity or pathos about +the old man on the bed: such sentiments are easier to affect +than to feel about an aged creature whose life is not visibly +anything but a remnant of vices. She had always seen the most +disagreeable side of Mr. Featherstone. he was not proud of her, +and she was only useful to him. To be anxious about a soul that is +always snapping at you must be left to the saints of the earth; +and Mary was not one of them. She had never returned him a +harsh word, and had waited on him faithfully: that was her utmost. +Old Featherstone himself was not in the least anxious about his soul, +and had declined to see Mr. Tucker on the subject. + +To-night he had not snapped, and for the first hour or two he lay +remarkably still, until at last Mary heard him rattling his bunch of +keys against the tin box which he always kept in the bed beside him. +About three o'clock he said, with remarkable distinctness, +"Missy, come here!" + +Mary obeyed, and found that he had already drawn the tin box +from under the clothes, though he usually asked to have this done +for him; and he had selected the key. He now unlocked the box, +and, drawing from it another key, looked straight at her with eyes +that seemed to have recovered all their sharpness and said, +"How many of 'em are in the house?" + +"You mean of your own relations, sir," said Mary, well used +to the old man's way of speech. He nodded slightly and she went on. + +"Mr. Jonah Featherstone and young Cranch are sleeping here." + +"Oh ay, they stick, do they? and the rest--they come every day, +I'll warrant--Solomon and Jane, and all the young uns? +They come peeping, and counting and casting up?" + +"Not all of them every day. Mr. Solomon and Mrs. Waule are here +every day, and the others come often." + +The old man listened with a grimace while she spoke, and then said, +relaxing his face, "The more fools they. You hearken, missy. +It's three o'clock in the morning, and I've got all my faculties +as well as ever I had in my life. I know all my property, +and where the money's put out, and everything. And I've made +everything ready to change my mind, and do as I like at the last. +Do you hear, missy? I've got my faculties." + +"Well, sir?" said Mary, quietly. + +He now lowered his tone with an air of deeper cunning. "I've made +two wills, and I'm going to burn one. Now you do as I tell you. +This is the key of my iron chest, in the closet there. You push well +at the side of the brass plate at the top, till it goes like a bolt: +then you can put the key in the front lock and turn it. See and +do that; and take out the topmost paper--Last Will and Testament-- +big printed." + +"No, sir," said Mary, in a firm voice, "I cannot do that." + +"Not do it? I tell you, you must," said the old man, his voice +beginning to shake under the shock of this resistance. + +"I cannot touch your iron chest or your will. I must refuse to do +anything that might lay me open to suspicion." + +"I tell you, I'm in my right mind. Shan't I do as I like at the last? +I made two wills on purpose. Take the key, I say." + +"No, sir, I will not," said Mary, more resolutely still. +Her repulsion was getting stronger. + +"I tell you, there's no time to lose." + +"I cannot help that, sir. I will not let the close of your life +soil the beginning of mine. I will not touch your iron chest +or your will." She moved to a little distance from the bedside. + +The old man paused with a blank stare for a little while, holding the +one key erect on the ring; then with an agitated jerk he began +to work with his bony left hand at emptying the tin box before him. + +"Missy," he began to say, hurriedly, "look here! take the money-- +the notes and gold--look here--take it--you shall have it all-- +do as I tell you." + +He made an effort to stretch out the key towards her as far +as possible, and Mary again retreated. + +"I will not touch your key or your money, sir. Pray don't ask me +to do it again. If you do, I must go and call your brother." + +He let his hand fall, and for the first time in her life Mary +saw old Peter Featherstone begin to cry childishly. She said, +in as gentle a tone as she could command, "Pray put up your money, +sir;" and then went away to her seat by the fire, hoping this +would help to convince him that it was useless to say more. +Presently he rallied and said eagerly-- + +"Look here, then. Call the young chap. Call Fred Vincy." + +Mary's heart began to beat more quickly. Various ideas rushed +through her mind as to what the burning of a second will might imply. +She had to make a difficult decision in a hurry. + +"I will call him, if you will let me call Mr. Jonah and others +with him." + +"Nobody else, I say. The young chap. I shall do as I like." + +"Wait till broad daylight, sir, when every one is stirring. +Or let me call Simmons now, to go and fetch the lawyer? He can be +here in less than two hours." + +"Lawyer? What do I want with the lawyer? Nobody shall know--I say, +nobody shall know. I shall do as I like." + +"Let me call some one else, sir," said Mary, persuasively. She did +not like her position--alone with the old man, who seemed to show +a strange flaring of nervous energy which enabled him to speak again +and again without falling into his usual cough; yet she desired +not to push unnecessarily the contradiction which agitated him. +"Let me, pray, call some one else." + +"You let me alone, I say. Look here, missy. Take the money. +You'll never have the chance again. It's pretty nigh two hundred-- +there's more in the box, and nobody knows how much there was. +Take it and do as I tell you." + +Mary, standing by the fire, saw its red light falling on the old man, +propped up on his pillows and bed-rest, with his bony hand holding +out the key, and the money lying on the quilt before him. She never +forgot that vision of a man wanting to do as he liked at the last. +But the way in which he had put the offer of the money urged her to +speak with harder resolution than ever. + +"It is of no use, sir. I will not do it. Put up your money. +I will not touch your money. I will do anything else I can to +comfort you; but I will not touch your keys or your money." + +"Anything else anything else!" said old Featherstone, with hoarse +rage, which, as if in a nightmare, tried to be loud, and yet was +only just audible. "I want nothing else. You come here--you come here." + +Mary approached him cautiously, knowing him too well. She saw him +dropping his keys and trying to grasp his stick, while he looked +at her like an aged hyena, the muscles of his face getting distorted +with the effort of his hand. She paused at a safe distance. + +"Let me give you some cordial," she said, quietly, "and try to +compose yourself. You will perhaps go to sleep. And to-morrow +by daylight you can do as you like." + +He lifted the stick, in spite of her being beyond his reach, +and threw it with a hard effort which was but impotence. +It fell, slipping over the foot of the bed. Mary let it lie, +and retreated to her chair by the fire. By-and-by she would +go to him with the cordial. Fatigue would make him passive. +It was getting towards the chillest moment of the morning, +the fire had got low, and she could see through the chink between +the moreen window-curtains the light whitened by the blind. +Having put some wood on the fire and thrown a shawl over her, +she sat down, hoping that Mr. Featherstone might now fall asleep. +If she went near him the irritation might be kept up. He had said +nothing after throwing the stick, but she had seen him taking +his keys again and laying his right hand on the money. He did +not put it up, however, and she thought that he was dropping off +to sleep. + +But Mary herself began to be more agitated by the remembrance +of what she had gone through, than she had been by the reality-- +questioning those acts of hers which had come imperatively and +excluded all question in the critical moment. + +Presently the dry wood sent out a flame which illuminated every crevice, +and Mary saw that the old man was lying quietly with his head turned +a little on one side. She went towards him with inaudible steps, +and thought that his face looked strangely motionless; but the next +moment the movement of the flame communicating itself to all objects +made her uncertain. The violent beating of her heart rendered +her perceptions so doubtful that even when she touched him and +listened for his breathing, she could not trust her conclusions. +She went to the window and gently propped aside the curtain and blind, +so that the still light of the sky fell on the bed. + +The next moment she ran to the bell and rang it energetically. +In a very little while there was no longer any doubt that Peter +Featherstone was dead, with his right hand clasping the keys, +and his left hand lying on the heap of notes and gold. + +BOOK IV. + +THREE LOVE PROBLEMS. + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + 1st Gent. Such men as this are feathers, chips, and straws. + Carry no weight, no force. + 2d Gent. But levity + Is causal too, and makes the sum of weight. + For power finds its place in lack of power; + Advance is cession, and the driven ship + May run aground because the helmsman's thought + Lacked force to balance opposites." + +It was on a morning of May that Peter Featherstone was buried. +In the prosaic neighborhood of Middlemarch, May was not always warm +and sunny, and on this particular morning a chill wind was blowing +the blossoms from the surrounding gardens on to the green mounds +of Lowick churchyard. Swiftly moving clouds only now and then +allowed a gleam to light up any object, whether ugly or beautiful, +that happened to stand within its golden shower. In the churchyard +the objects were remarkably various, for there was a little country +crowd waiting to see the funeral. The news had spread that it +was to be a "big burying;" the old gentleman had left written +directions about everything and meant to have a funeral "beyond +his betters." This was true; for old Featherstone had not been +a Harpagon whose passions had all been devoured by the ever-lean +and ever-hungry passion of saving, and who would drive a bargain +with his undertaker beforehand. He loved money, but he also +loved to spend it in gratifying his peculiar tastes, and perhaps +he loved it best of all as a means of making others feel his +power more or less uncomfortably. If any one will here contend +that there must have been traits of goodness in old Featherstone, +I will not presume to deny this; but I must observe that goodness +is of a modest nature, easily discouraged, and when much privacy, +elbowed in early life by unabashed vices, is apt to retire into +extreme privacy, so that it is more easily believed in by those who +construct a selfish old gentleman theoretically, than by those who +form the narrower judgments based on his personal acquaintance. +In any case, he had been bent on having a handsome funeral, and on +having persons "bid" to it who would rather have stayed at home. +He had even desired that female relatives should follow him to +the grave, and poor sister Martha had taken a difficult journey +for this purpose from the Chalky Flats. She and Jane would have +been altogether cheered (in a tearful manner) by this sign that +a brother who disliked seeing them while he was living had been +prospectively fond of their presence when he should have become +a testator, if the sign had not been made equivocal by being extended +to Mrs. Vincy, whose expense in handsome crape seemed to imply +the most presumptuous hopes, aggravated by a bloom of complexion +which told pretty plainly that she was not a blood-relation, +but of that generally objectionable class called wife's kin. + +We are all of us imaginative in some form or other, for images +are the brood of desire; and poor old Featherstone, who laughed +much at the way in which others cajoled themselves, did not escape +the fellowship of illusion. In writing the programme for his burial +he certainly did not make clear to himself that his pleasure in the +little drama of which it formed a part was confined to anticipation. +In chuckling over the vexations he could inflict by the rigid clutch +of his dead hand, he inevitably mingled his consciousness with that +livid stagnant presence, and so far as he was preoccupied with a +future life, it was with one of gratification inside his coffin. +Thus old Featherstone was imaginative, after his fashion. + +However, the three mourning-coaches were filled according to the +written orders of the deceased. There were pall-bearers on horseback, +with the richest scarfs and hatbands, and even the under-bearers +had trappings of woe which were of a good well-priced quality. +The black procession, when dismounted, looked the larger for +the smallness of the churchyard; the heavy human faces and the +black draperies shivering in the wind seemed to tell of a world +strangely incongruous with the lightly dropping blossoms and +the gleams of sunshine on the daisies. The clergyman who met +the procession was Mr. Cadwallader--also according to the request +of Peter Featherstone, prompted as usual by peculiar reasons. +Having a contempt for curates, whom he always called understrappers, +he was resolved to be buried by a beneficed clergyman. Mr. Casaubon +was out of the question, not merely because he declined duty +of this sort, but because Featherstone had an especial dislike +to him as the rector of his own parish, who had a lien on the land +in the shape of tithe, also as the deliverer of morning sermons, +which the old man, being in his pew and not at all sleepy, +had been obliged to sit through with an inward snarl. He had an +objection to a parson stuck up above his head preaching to him. +But his relations with Mr. Cadwallader had been of a different kind: +the trout-stream which ran through Mr. Casaubon's land took its course +through Featherstone's also, so that Mr. Cadwallader was a parson +who had had to ask a favor instead of preaching. Moreover, he was +one of the high gentry living four miles away from Lowick, and was +thus exalted to an equal sky with the sheriff of the county and other +dignities vaguely regarded as necessary to the system of things. +There would be a satisfaction in being buried by Mr. Cadwallader, +whose very name offered a fine opportunity for pronouncing wrongly +if you liked. + +This distinction conferred on the Rector of Tipton and Freshitt was +the reason why Mrs. Cadwallader made one of the group that watched +old Featherstone's funeral from an upper window of the manor. +She was not fond of visiting that house, but she liked, as she said, +to see collections of strange animals such as there would be at +this funeral; and she had persuaded Sir James and the young Lady +Chettam to drive the Rector and herself to Lowick in order that the +visit might be altogether pleasant. + +"I will go anywhere with you, Mrs. Cadwallader," Celia had said; +"but I don't like funerals." + +"Oh, my dear, when you have a clergyman in your family you must +accommodate your tastes: I did that very early. When I married +Humphrey I made up my mind to like sermons, and I set out by liking +the end very much. That soon spread to the middle and the beginning, +because I couldn't have the end without them." + +"No, to be sure not," said the Dowager Lady Chettam, +with stately emphasis. + +The upper window from which the funeral could be well seen was in the +room occupied by Mr. Casaubon when he had been forbidden to work; +but he had resumed nearly his habitual style of life now in spite +of warnings and prescriptions, and after politely welcoming +Mrs. Cadwallader had slipped again into the library to chew a cud +of erudite mistake about Cush and Mizraim. + +But for her visitors Dorothea too might have been shut up in the library, +and would not have witnessed this scene of old Featherstone's +funeral, which, aloof as it seemed to be from the tenor of her life, +always afterwards came back to her at the touch of certain sensitive +points in memory, just as the vision of St. Peter's at Rome +was inwoven with moods of despondency. Scenes which make vital +changes in our neighbors' lot are but the background of our own, +yet, like a particular aspect of the fields and trees, they become +associated for us with the epochs of our own history, and make a part +of that unity which lies in the selection of our keenest consciousness. + +The dream-like association of something alien and ill-understood +with the deepest secrets of her experience seemed to mirror that sense +of loneliness which was due to the very ardor of Dorothea's nature. +The country gentry of old time lived in a rarefied social air: +dotted apart on their stations up the mountain they looked down +with imperfect discrimination on the belts of thicker life below. +And Dorothea was not at ease in the perspective and chilliness of +that height. + +"I shall not look any more," said Celia, after the train had entered +the church, placing herself a little behind her husband's elbow +so that she could slyly touch his coat with her cheek. "I dare say +Dodo likes it: she is fond of melancholy things and ugly people." + +"I am fond of knowing something about the people I live among," +said Dorothea, who had been watching everything with the +interest of a monk on his holiday tour. "It seems to me +we know nothing of our neighbors, unless they are cottagers. +One is constantly wondering what sort of lives other people lead, +and how they take things. I am quite obliged to Mrs. Cadwallader +for coming and calling me out of the library." + +"Quite right to feel obliged to me," said Mrs. Cadwallader. +"Your rich Lowick farmers are as curious as any buffaloes or bisons, +and I dare say you don't half see them at church. They are quite +different from your uncle's tenants or Sir James's--monsters-- +farmers without landlords--one can't tell how to class them." + +"Most of these followers are not Lowick people," said Sir James; +"I suppose they are legatees from a distance, or from Middlemarch. +Lovegood tells me the old fellow has left a good deal of money as well +as land." + +"Think of that now! when so many younger sons can't dine at +their own expense," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Ah," turning round +at the sound of the opening door, "here is Mr. Brooke. I felt +that we were incomplete before, and here is the explanation. +You are come to see this odd funeral, of course?" + +"No, I came to look after Casaubon--to see how he goes on, +you know. And to bring a little news--a little news, my dear," +said Mr. Brooke, nodding at Dorothea as she came towards him. +"I looked into the library, and I saw Casaubon over his books. +I told him it wouldn't do: I said, `This will never do, you know: +think of your wife, Casaubon.' And he promised me to come up. I didn't +tell him my news: I said, he must come up." + +"Ah, now they are coming out of church," Mrs. Cadwallader exclaimed. +"Dear me, what a wonderfully mixed set! Mr. Lydgate as doctor, +I suppose. But that is really a good looking woman, and the fair +young man must be her son. Who are they, Sir James, do you know?" + +"I see Vincy, the Mayor of Middlemarch; they are probably his wife +and son," said Sir James, looking interrogatively at Mr. Brooke, +who nodded and said-- + +"Yes, a very decent family--a very good fellow is Vincy; a credit +to the manufacturing interest. You have seen him at my house, +you know." + +"Ah, yes: one of your secret committee," said Mrs. Cadwallader, +provokingly. + +"A coursing fellow, though," said Sir James, with a fox-hunter's disgust. + +"And one of those who suck the life out of the wretched handloom +weavers in Tipton and Freshitt. That is how his family look so fair +and sleek," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Those dark, purple-faced people +are an excellent foil. Dear me, they are like a set of jugs! +Do look at Humphrey: one might fancy him an ugly archangel towering +above them in his white surplice." + +"It's a solemn thing, though, a funeral," said Mr. Brooke, "if you +take it in that light, you know." + +"But I am not taking it in that light. I can't wear my solemnity +too often, else it will go to rags. It was time the old man died, +and none of these people are sorry." + +"How piteous!" said Dorothea. "This funeral seems to me the most +dismal thing I ever saw. It is a blot on the morning I cannot +bear to think that any one should die and leave no love behind." + +She was going to say more, but she saw her husband enter and seat +himself a little in the background. The difference his presence +made to her was not always a happy one: she felt that he often +inwardly objected to her speech. + +"Positively," exclaimed Mrs. Cadwallader, "there is a new face +come out from behind that broad man queerer than any of them: +a little round head with bulging eyes--a sort of frog-face--do look. +He must be of another blood, I think." + +"Let me see!" said Celia, with awakened curiosity, standing behind Mrs. +Cadwallader and leaning forward over her head. "Oh, what an odd face!" +Then with a quick change to another sort of surprised expression, she +added, "Why, Dodo, you never told me that Mr. Ladislaw was come again!" + +Dorothea felt a shock of alarm: every one noticed her sudden paleness +as she looked up immediately at her uncle, while Mr. Casaubon +looked at her. + +"He came with me, you know; he is my guest--puts up with me at +the Grange," said Mr. Brooke, in his easiest tone, nodding at Dorothea, +as if the announcement were just what she might have expected. +"And we have brought the picture at the top of the carriage. +I knew you would be pleased with the surprise, Casaubon. There you +are to the very life--as Aquinas, you know. Quite the right sort +of thing. And you will hear young Ladislaw talk about it. +He talks uncommonly well--points out this, that, and the other-- +knows art and everything of that kind--companionable, you know--is up +with you in any track--what I've been wanting a long while." + +Mr. Casaubon bowed with cold politeness, mastering his irritation, +but only so far as to be silent. He remembered Will's letter +quite as well as Dorothea did; he had noticed that it was not +among the letters which had been reserved for him on his recovery, +and secretly concluding that Dorothea had sent word to Will not +to come to Lowick, he had shrunk with proud sensitiveness from ever +recurring to the subject. He now inferred that she had asked +her uncle to invite Will to the Grange; and she felt it impossible +at that moment to enter into any explanation. + +Mrs. Cadwallader's eyes, diverted from the churchyard, saw a good +deal of dumb show which was not so intelligible to her as she could +have desired, and could not repress the question, "Who is Mr. Ladislaw?" + +"A young relative of Mr. Casaubon's," said Sir James, promptly. +His good-nature often made him quick and clear-seeing +in personal matters, and he had divined from Dorothea's +glance at her husband that there was some alarm in her mind. + +"A very nice young fellow--Casaubon has done everything for him," +explained Mr. Brooke. "He repays your expense in him, Casaubon," +he went on, nodding encouragingly. "I hope he will stay with me +a long while and we shall make something of my documents. I have +plenty of ideas and facts, you know, and I can see he is just the man +to put them into shape--remembers what the right quotations are, +omne tulit punctum, and that sort of thing--gives subjects a kind +of turn. I invited him some time ago when you were ill, Casaubon; +Dorothea said you couldn't have anybody in the house, you know, +and she asked me to write." + +Poor Dorothea felt that every word of her uncle's was about as +pleasant as a grain of sand in the eye to Mr. Casaubon. It would +be altogether unfitting now to explain that she had not wished her +uncle to invite Will Ladislaw. She could not in the least make clear +to herself the reasons for her husband's dislike to his presence-- +a dislike painfully impressed on her by the scene in the library; +but she felt the unbecomingness of saying anything that might convey +a notion of it to others. Mr. Casaubon, indeed, had not thoroughly +represented those mixed reasons to himself; irritated feeling +with him, as with all of us, seeking rather for justification +than for self-knowledge. But he wished to repress outward signs, +and only Dorothea could discern the changes in her husband's face +before he observed with more of dignified bending and sing-song +than usual-- + +"You are exceedingly hospitable, my dear sir; and I owe you +acknowledgments for exercising your hospitality towards a relative +of mine." + +The funeral was ended now, and the churchyard was being cleared. + +"Now you can see him, Mrs. Cadwallader," said Celia. "He is just like +a miniature of Mr. Casaubon's aunt that hangs in Dorothea's boudoir-- +quite nice-looking." + +"A very pretty sprig," said Mrs. Cadwallader, dryly. "What +is your nephew to be, Mr. Casaubon?" + +"Pardon me, he is not my nephew. He is my cousin." + +"Well, you know," interposed Mr. Brooke, "he is trying his wings. +He is just the sort of young fellow to rise. I should be glad +to give him an opportunity. He would make a good secretary, now, +like Hobbes, Milton, Swift--that sort of man." + +"I understand," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "One who can write speeches." + +"I'll fetch him in now, eh, Casaubon?" said Mr. Brooke. +"He wouldn't come in till I had announced him, you know. And we'll +go down and look at the picture. There you are to the life: +a deep subtle sort of thinker with his fore-finger on the page, +while Saint Bonaventure or somebody else, rather fat and florid, +is looking up at the Trinity. Everything is symbolical, you know-- +the higher style of art: I like that up to a certain point, +but not too far--it's rather straining to keep up with, you know. +But you are at home in that, Casaubon. And your painter's flesh +is good--solidity, transparency, everything of that sort. +I went into that a great deal at one time. However, I'll go and +fetch Ladislaw." + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + "Non, je ne comprends pas de plus charmant plaisir + Que de voir d'heritiers une troupe affligee + Le maintien interdit, et la mine allongee, + Lire un long testament ou pales, etonnes + On leur laisse un bonsoir avec un pied de nez. + Pour voir au naturel leur tristesse profonde + Je reviendrais, je crois, expres de l'autre monde." + --REGNARD: Le Legataire Universel. + +When the animals entered the Ark in pairs, one may imagine that allied +species made much private remark on each other, and were tempted +to think that so many forms feeding on the same store of fodder +were eminently superfluous, as tending to diminish the rations. +(I fear the part played by the vultures on that occasion would be too +painful for art to represent, those birds being disadvantageously +naked about the gullet, and apparently without rites and ceremonies.) + +The same sort of temptation befell the Christian Carnivora who formed +Peter Featherstone's funeral procession; most of them having their minds +bent on a limited store which each would have liked to get the most of. +The long-recognized blood-relations and connections by marriage +made already a goodly number, which, multiplied by possibilities, +presented a fine range for jealous conjecture and pathetic hopefulness. +Jealousy of the Vincys had created a fellowship in hostility among +all persons of the Featherstone blood, so that in the absence of any +decided indication that one of themselves was to have more than +the rest, the dread lest that long-legged Fred Vincy should have +the land was necessarily dominant, though it left abundant feeling +and leisure for vaguer jealousies, such as were entertained towards +Mary Garth. Solomon found time to reflect that Jonah was undeserving, +and Jonah to abuse Solomon as greedy; Jane, the elder sister, +held that Martha's children ought not to expect so much as the +young Waules; and Martha, more lax on the subject of primogeniture, +was sorry to think that Jane was so "having." These nearest of kin +were naturally impressed with the unreasonableness of expectations +in cousins and second cousins, and used their arithmetic in reckoning +the large sums that small legacies might mount to, if there were +too many of them. Two cousins were present to hear the will, +and a second cousin besides Mr. Trumbull. This second cousin was +a Middlemarch mercer of polite manners and superfluous aspirates. +The two cousins were elderly men from Brassing, one of them +conscious of claims on the score of inconvenient expense sustained +by him in presents of oysters and other eatables to his rich +cousin Peter; the other entirely saturnine, leaning his hands +and chin on a stick, and conscious of claims based on no narrow +performance but on merit generally: both blameless citizens +of Brassing, who wished that Jonah Featherstone did not live there. +The wit of a family is usually best received among strangers. + +"Why, Trumbull himself is pretty sure of five hundred--THAT +you may depend,--I shouldn't wonder if my brother promised him," +said Solomon, musing aloud with his sisters, the evening before +the funeral. + +"Dear, dear!" said poor sister Martha, whose imagination of hundreds +had been habitually narrowed to the amount of her unpaid rent. + +But in the morning all the ordinary currents of conjecture were +disturbed by the presence of a strange mourner who had plashed +among them as if from the moon. This was the stranger described +by Mrs. Cadwallader as frog-faced: a man perhaps about two or three +and thirty, whose prominent eyes, thin-lipped, downward-curved mouth, +and hair sleekly brushed away from a forehead that sank suddenly +above the ridge of the eyebrows, certainly gave his face a batrachian +unchangeableness of expression. Here, clearly, was a new legatee; +else why was he bidden as a mourner? Here were new possibilities, +raising a new uncertainty, which almost checked remark in the +mourning-coaches. We are all humiliated by the sudden discovery +of a fact which has existed very comfortably and perhaps been staring +at us in private while we have been making up our world entirely +without it. No one had seen this questionable stranger before +except Mary Garth, and she knew nothing more of him than that he +had twice been to Stone Court when Mr. Featherstone was down-stairs, +and had sat alone with him for several hours. She had found an +opportunity of mentioning this to her father, and perhaps Caleb's +were the only eyes, except the lawyer's, which examined the stranger +with more of inquiry than of disgust or suspicion. Caleb Garth, +having little expectation and less cupidity, was interested in the +verification of his own guesses, and the calmness with which he +half smilingly rubbed his chin and shot intelligent glances much +as if he were valuing a tree, made a fine contrast with the alarm +or scorn visible in other faces when the unknown mourner, whose name +was understood to be Rigg, entered the wainscoted parlor and took +his seat near the door to make part of the audience when the will +should be read. Just then Mr. Solomon and Mr. Jonah were gone +up-stairs with the lawyer to search for the will; and Mrs. Waule, +seeing two vacant seats between herself and Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, +had the spirit to move next to that great authority, who was handling +his watch-seals and trimming his outlines with a determination not to +show anything so compromising to a man of ability as wonder or surprise. + +"I suppose you know everything about what my poor brother's done, +Mr. Trumbull," said Mrs. Waule, in the lowest of her woolly tones, +while she turned her crape-shadowed bonnet towards Mr. Trumbull's ear. + +"My good lady, whatever was told me was told in confidence," +said the auctioneer, putting his hand up to screen that secret. + +"Them who've made sure of their good-luck may be disappointed yet," +Mrs. Waule continued, finding some relief in this communication. + +"Hopes are often delusive," said Mr. Trumbull, still in confidence. + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Waule, looking across at the Vincys, and then +moving back to the side of her sister Martha. + +"It's wonderful how close poor Peter was," she said, in the same +undertones. "We none of us know what he might have had on his mind. +I only hope and trust he wasn't a worse liver than we think of, Martha." + +Poor Mrs. Cranch was bulky, and, breathing asthmatically, +had the additional motive for making her remarks unexceptionable +and giving them a general bearing, that even her whispers were loud +and liable to sudden bursts like those of a deranged barrel-organ. + +"I never WAS covetious, Jane," she replied; "but I have six +children and have buried three, and I didn't marry into money. +The eldest, that sits there, is but nineteen--so I leave you to guess. +And stock always short, and land most awkward. But if ever I've +begged and prayed; it's been to God above; though where there's +one brother a bachelor and the other childless after twice marrying-- +anybody might think!" + +Meanwhile, Mr. Vincy had glanced at the passive face of Mr. Rigg, +and had taken out his snuff-box and tapped it, but had put it again +unopened as an indulgence which, however clarifying to the judgment, +was unsuited to the occasion. "I shouldn't wonder if Featherstone +had better feelings than any of us gave him credit for," he observed, +in the ear of his wife. "This funeral shows a thought about everybody: +it looks well when a man wants to be followed by his friends, +and if they are humble, not to be ashamed of them. I should be +all the better pleased if he'd left lots of small legacies. +They may be uncommonly useful to fellows in a small way." + +"Everything is as handsome as could be, crape and silk and everything," +said Mrs. Vincy, contentedly. + +But I am sorry to say that Fred was under some difficulty in repressing +a laugh, which would have been more unsuitable than his father's +snuff-box. Fred had overheard Mr. Jonah suggesting something about a +"love-child," and with this thought in his mind, the stranger's face, +which happened to be opposite him, affected him too ludicrously. +Mary Garth, discerning his distress in the twitchings of his mouth, +and his recourse to a cough, came cleverly to his rescue by asking +him to change seats with her, so that he got into a shadowy corner. +Fred was feeling as good-naturedly as possible towards everybody, +including Rigg; and having some relenting towards all these people +who were less lucky than he was aware of being himself, he would +not for the world have behaved amiss; still, it was particularly easy +to laugh. + +But the entrance of the lawyer and the two brothers drew every +one's attention. The lawyer was Mr. Standish, and he had come +to Stone Court this morning believing that he knew thoroughly well +who would be pleased and who disappointed before the day was over. +The will he expected to read was the last of three which he +had drawn up for Mr. Featherstone. Mr. Standish was not a man +who varied his manners: he behaved with the same deep-voiced, +off-hand civility to everybody, as if he saw no difference in them, +and talked chiefly of the hay-crop, which would be "very fine, +by God!" of the last bulletins concerning the King, and of the Duke +of Clarence, who was a sailor every inch of him, and just the man +to rule over an island like Britain. + +Old Featherstone had often reflected as he sat looking at the fire +that Standish would be surprised some day: it is true that if he +had done as he liked at the last, and burnt the will drawn up +by another lawyer, he would not have secured that minor end; +still he had had his pleasure in ruminating on it. And certainly +Mr. Standish was surprised, but not at all sorry; on the contrary, +he rather enjoyed the zest of a little curiosity in his own mind, +which the discovery of a second will added to the prospective amazement +on the part of the Featherstone family. + +As to the sentiments of Solomon and Jonah, they were held in +utter suspense: it seemed to them that the old will would have +a certain validity, and that there might be such an interlacement +of poor Peter's former and latter intentions as to create endless +"lawing" before anybody came by their own--an inconvenience which +would have at least the advantage of going all round. Hence the +brothers showed a thoroughly neutral gravity as they re-entered +with Mr. Standish; but Solomon took out his white handkerchief again +with a sense that in any case there would be affecting passages, +and crying at funerals, however dry, was customarily served up in lawn. + +Perhaps the person who felt the most throbbing excitement at this +moment was Mary Garth, in the consciousness that it was she +who had virtually determined the production of this second will, +which might have momentous effects on the lot of some persons present. +No soul except herself knew what had passed on that final night. + +"The will I hold in my hand," said Mr. Standish, who, seated at +the table in the middle of the room, took his time about everything, +including the coughs with which he showed a disposition to clear +his voice, "was drawn up by myself and executed by our deceased +friend on the 9th of August, 1825. But I find that there is +a subsequent instrument hitherto unknown to me, bearing date the +20th of July, 1826, hardly a year later than the previous one. +And there is farther, I see"--Mr. Standish was cautiously travelling +over the document with his spectacles--"a codicil to this latter will, +bearing date March 1, 1828." + +"Dear, dear!" said sister Martha, not meaning to be audible, +but driven to some articulation under this pressure of dates. + +"I shall begin by reading the earlier will," continued Mr. Standish, +"since such, as appears by his not having destroyed the document, +was the intention of deceased." + +The preamble was felt to be rather long, and several besides +Solomon shook their heads pathetically, looking on the ground: +all eyes avoided meeting other eyes, and were chiefly fixed either +on the spots in the table-cloth or on Mr. Standish's bald head; +excepting Mary Garth's. When all the rest were trying to look +nowhere in particular, it was safe for her to look at them. +And at the sound of the first "give and bequeath" she could see all +complexions changing subtly, as if some faint vibration were passing +through them, save that of Mr. Rigg. He sat in unaltered calm, and, +in fact, the company, preoccupied with more important problems, +and with the complication of listening to bequests which might or +might not be revoked, had ceased to think of him. Fred blushed, +and Mr. Vincy found it impossible to do without his snuff-box in +his hand, though he kept it closed. + +The small bequests came first, and even the recollection that there +was another will and that poor Peter might have thought better of it, +could not quell the rising disgust and indignation. One likes +to be done well by in every tense, past, present, and future. +And here was Peter capable five years ago of leaving only two hundred +apiece to his own brothers and sisters, and only a hundred apiece +to his own nephews and nieces: the Garths were not mentioned, +but Mrs. Vincy and Rosamond were each to have a hundred. +Mr. Trumbull was to have the gold-headed cane and fifty pounds; +the other second cousins and the cousins present were each to have +the like handsome sum, which, as the saturnine cousin observed, +was a sort of legacy that left a man nowhere; and there was much +more of such offensive dribbling in favor of persons not present-- +problematical, and, it was to be feared, low connections. +Altogether, reckoning hastily, here were about three thousand +disposed of. Where then had Peter meant the rest of the money to go-- +and where the land? and what was revoked and what not revoked-- +and was the revocation for better or for worse? All emotion +must be conditional, and might turn out to be the wrong thing. +The men were strong enough to bear up and keep quiet under this +confused suspense; some letting their lower lip fall, others pursing +it up, according to the habit of their muscles. But Jane and Martha +sank under the rush of questions, and began to cry; poor Mrs. Cranch +being half moved with the consolation of getting any hundreds at all +without working for them, and half aware that her share was scanty; +whereas Mrs. Waule's mind was entirely flooded with the sense +of being an own sister and getting little, while somebody else +was to have much. The general expectation now was that the "much" +would fall to Fred Vincy, but the Vincys themselves were surprised +when ten thousand pounds in specified investments were declared to be +bequeathed to him:--was the land coming too? Fred bit his lips: +it was difficult to help smiling, and Mrs. Vincy felt herself +the happiest of women--possible revocation shrinking out of sight +in this dazzling vision. + +There was still a residue of personal property as well as the land, +but the whole was left to one person, and that person was-- +O possibilities! O expectations founded on the favor of "close" +old gentlemen! O endless vocatives that would still leave +expression slipping helpless from the measurement of mortal folly!-- +that residuary legatee was Joshua Rigg, who was also sole executor, +and who was to take thenceforth the name of Featherstone. + +There was a rustling which seemed like a shudder running round +the room. Every one stared afresh at Mr. Rigg, who apparently +experienced no surprise. + +"A most singular testamentary disposition!" exclaimed Mr. Trumbull, +preferring for once that he should be considered ignorant in the past. +"But there is a second will--there is a further document. We have +not yet heard the final wishes of the deceased." + +Mary Garth was feeling that what they had yet to hear were not the +final wishes. The second will revoked everything except the legacies +to the low persons before mentioned (some alterations in these being +the occasion of the codicil), and the bequest of all the land +lying in Lowick parish with all the stock and household furniture, +to Joshua Rigg. The residue of the property was to be devoted to +the erection and endowment of almshouses for old men, to be called +Featherstone's Alms-Houses, and to be built on a piece of land +near Middlemarch already bought for the purpose by the testator, +he wishing--so the document declared--to please God Almighty. +Nobody present had a farthing; but Mr. Trumbull had the gold-headed cane. +It took some time for the company to recover the power of expression. +Mary dared not look at Fred. + +Mr. Vincy was the first to speak--after using his snuff- +box energetically--and he spoke with loud indignation. +"The most unaccountable will I ever heard! I should say +he was not in his right mind when he made it. I should +say this last will was void," added Mr. Vincy, feeling +that this expression put the thing in the true light. "Eh Standish?" + +"Our deceased friend always knew what he was about, I think," +said Mr. Standish. "Everything is quite regular. Here is a letter +from Clemmens of Brassing tied with the will. He drew it up. +A very respectable solicitor." + +"I never noticed any alienation of mind--any aberration of intellect +in the late Mr. Featherstone," said Borthrop Trumbull, "but I call this +will eccentric. I was always willingly of service to the old soul; +and he intimated pretty plainly a sense of obligation which would show +itself in his will. The gold-headed cane is farcical considered as +an acknowledgment to me; but happily I am above mercenary considerations." + +"There's nothing very surprising in the matter that I can see," +said Caleb Garth. "Anybody might have had more reason for wondering +if the will had been what you might expect from an open-minded +straightforward man. For my part, I wish there was no such thing +as a will." + +"That's a strange sentiment to come from a Christian man, by God!" +said the lawyer. "I should like to know how you will back +that up, Garth!" + +"Oh," said Caleb, leaning forward, adjusting his finger-tips +with nicety and looking meditatively on the ground. It always +seemed to him that words were the hardest part of "business." + +But here Mr. Jonah Featherstone made himself heard. "Well, +he always was a fine hypocrite, was my brother Peter. But this +will cuts out everything. If I'd known, a wagon and six horses +shouldn't have drawn me from Brassing. I'll put a white hat +and drab coat on to-morrow." + +"Dear, dear," wept Mrs. Cranch, "and we've been at the expense +of travelling, and that poor lad sitting idle here so long! +It's the first time I ever heard my brother Peter was so wishful +to please God Almighty; but if I was to be struck helpless I must +say it's hard--I can think no other." + +"It'll do him no good where he's gone, that's my belief," +said Solomon, with a bitterness which was remarkably genuine, +though his tone could not help being sly. "Peter was a bad liver, +and almshouses won't cover it, when he's had the impudence to show +it at the last." + +"And all the while had got his own lawful family--brothers and sisters +and nephews and nieces--and has sat in church with 'em whenever +he thought well to come," said Mrs. Waule. "And might have left +his property so respectable, to them that's never been used to +extravagance or unsteadiness in no manner of way--and not so poor +but what they could have saved every penny and made more of it. +And me--the trouble I've been at, times and times, to come here +and be sisterly--and him with things on his mind all the while that +might make anybody's flesh creep. But if the Almighty's allowed it, +he means to punish him for it. Brother Solomon, I shall be going, +if you'll drive me." + +"I've no desire to put my foot on the premises again," said Solomon. +"I've got land of my own and property of my own to will away." + +"It's a poor tale how luck goes in the world," said Jonah. +"It never answers to have a bit of spirit in you. You'd better be +a dog in the manger. But those above ground might learn a lesson. +One fool's will is enough in a family." + +"There's more ways than one of being a fool," said Solomon. +"I shan't leave my money to be poured down the sink, and I shan't +leave it to foundlings from Africay. I like Feather, stones that +were brewed such, and not turned Featherstones with sticking +the name on 'em." + +Solomon addressed these remarks in a loud aside to Mrs. Waule +as he rose to accompany her. Brother Jonah felt himself capable +of much more stinging wit than this, but he reflected that there +was no use in offending the new proprietor of Stone Court, until you +were certain that he was quite without intentions of hospitality +towards witty men whose name he was about to bear. + +Mr. Joshua Rigg, in fact, appeared to trouble himself little +about any innuendoes, but showed a notable change of manner, +walking coolly up to Mr. Standish and putting business questions +with much coolness. He had a high chirping voice and a vile accent. +Fred, whom he no longer moved to laughter, thought him the lowest +monster he had ever seen. But Fred was feeling rather sick. +The Middlemarch mercer waited for an opportunity of engaging +Mr. Rigg in conversation: there was no knowing how many pairs +of legs the new proprietor might require hose for, and profits +were more to be relied on than legacies. Also, the mercer, +as a second cousin, was dispassionate enough to feel curiosity. + +Mr. Vincy, after his one outburst, had remained proudly silent, +though too much preoccupied with unpleasant feelings to think +of moving, till he observed that his wife had gone to Fred's +side and was crying silently while she held her darling's hand. +He rose immediately, and turning his back on the company while he +said to her in an undertone,--"Don't give way, Lucy; don't make +a fool of yourself, my dear, before these people," he added in his +usual loud voice--"Go and order the phaeton, Fred; I have no time +to waste." + +Mary Garth had before this been getting ready to go home with her father. +She met Fred in the hall, and now for the first time had the courage +to look at him He had that withered sort of paleness which will +sometimes come on young faces, and his hand was very cold when she +shook it. Mary too was agitated; she was conscious that fatally, +without will of her own, she had perhaps made a great difference +to Fred's lot. + +"Good-by," she said, with affectionate sadness. "Be brave, Fred. +I do believe you are better without the money. What was the good +of it to Mr. Featherstone?" + +"That's all very fine," said Fred, pettishly. "What is a fellow +to do? I must go into the Church now." (He knew that this would +vex Mary: very well; then she must tell him what else he could do.) +"And I thought I should be able to pay your father at once and make +everything right. And you have not even a hundred pounds left you. +What shall you do now, Mary?" + +"Take another situation, of course, as soon as I can get one. +My father has enough to do to keep the rest, without me. Good-by." + +In a very short time Stone Court was cleared of well-brewed Featherstones +and other long-accustomed visitors. Another stranger had been +brought to settle in the neighborhood of Middlemarch, but in the case +of Mr. Rigg Featherstone there was more discontent with immediate +visible consequences than speculation as to the effect which his +presence might have in the future. No soul was prophetic enough to +have any foreboding as to what might appear on the trial of Joshua Rigg. + +And here I am naturally led to reflect on the means of elevating +a low subject. Historical parallels are remarkably efficient in +this way. The chief objection to them is, that the diligent narrator +may lack space, or (what is often the same thing) may not be able +to think of them with any degree of particularity, though he may have +a philosophical confidence that if known they would be illustrative. +It seems an easier and shorter way to dignity, to observe that-- +since there never was a true story which could not be told in parables, +where you might put a monkey for a margrave, and vice versa-- +whatever has been or is to be narrated by me about low people, +may be ennobled by being considered a parable; so that if any bad +habits and ugly consequences are brought into view, the reader may have +the relief of regarding them as not more than figuratively ungenteel, +and may feel himself virtually in company with persons of some style. +Thus while I tell the truth about loobies, my reader's imagination +need not be entirely excluded from an occupation with lords; +and the petty sums which any bankrupt of high standing would be +sorry to retire upon, may be lifted to the level of high commercial +transactions by the inexpensive addition of proportional ciphers. + +As to any provincial history in which the agents are all of high +moral rank, that must be of a date long posterior to the first +Reform Bill, and Peter Featherstone, you perceive, was dead +and buried some months before Lord Grey came into office. + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + "'Tis strange to see the humors of these men, + These great aspiring spirits, that should be wise: + . . . . . . . . + For being the nature of great spirits to love + To be where they may be most eminent; + They, rating of themselves so farre above + Us in conceit, with whom they do frequent, + Imagine how we wonder and esteeme + All that they do or say; which makes them strive + To make our admiration more extreme, + Which they suppose they cannot, 'less they give + Notice of their extreme and highest thoughts. + --DANIEL: Tragedy of Philotas. + +Mr. Vincy went home from the reading of the will with his point +of view considerably changed in relation to many subjects. He was an +open-minded man, but given to indirect modes of expressing himself: +when he was disappointed in a market for his silk braids, he swore +at the groom; when his brother-in-law Bulstrode had vexed him, +he made cutting remarks on Methodism; and it was now apparent that +he regarded Fred's idleness with a sudden increase of severity, +by his throwing an embroidered cap out of the smoking-room on to +the hall-floor. + +"Well, sir," he observed, when that young gentleman was moving off +to bed, "I hope you've made up your mind now to go up next term +and pass your examination. I've taken my resolution, so I advise +you to lose no time in taking yours." + +Fred made no answer: he was too utterly depressed. Twenty-four hours +ago he had thought that instead of needing to know what he should do, +he should by this time know that he needed to do nothing: that he +should hunt in pink, have a first-rate hunter, ride to cover on a +fine hack, and be generally respected for doing so; moreover, that he +should be able at once to pay Mr. Garth, and that Mary could no longer +have any reason for not marrying him. And all this was to have come +without study or other inconvenience, purely by the favor of providence +in the shape of an old gentleman's caprice. But now, at the end +of the twenty-four hours, all those firm expectations were upset. +It was "rather hard lines" that while he was smarting under this +disappointment he should be treated as if he could have helped it. +But he went away silently and his mother pleaded for him. + +"Don't be hard on the poor boy, Vincy. He'll turn out well yet, +though that wicked man has deceived him. I feel as sure as I +sit here, Fred will turn out well--else why was he brought back +from the brink of the grave? And I call it a robbery: it was +like giving him the land, to promise it; and what is promising, +if making everybody believe is not promising? And you see he did +leave him ten thousand pounds, and then took it away again." + +"Took it away again!" said Mr. Vincy, pettishly. "I tell you +the lad's an unlucky lad, Lucy. And you've always spoiled him." + +"Well, Vincy, he was my first, and you made a fine fuss with him +when he came. You were as proud as proud," said Mrs. Vincy, +easily recovering her cheerful smile. + +"Who knows what babies will turn to? I was fool enough, I dare say," +said the husband--more mildly, however. + +"But who has handsomer, better children than ours? Fred is far +beyond other people's sons: you may hear it in his speech, that he +has kept college company. And Rosamond--where is there a girl +like her? She might stand beside any lady in the land, and only +look the better for it. You see--Mr. Lydgate has kept the highest +company and been everywhere, and he fell in love with her at once. +Not but what I could have wished Rosamond had not engaged herself. +She might have met somebody on a visit who would have been a far +better match; I mean at her schoolfellow Miss Willoughby's. There are +relations in that family quite as high as Mr. Lydgate's." + +"Damn relations!" said Mr. Vincy; "I've had enough of them. +I don't want a son-in-law who has got nothing but his relations +to recommend him." + +"Why, my dear," said Mrs. Vincy, "you seemed as pleased as could +be about it. It's true, I wasn't at home; but Rosamond told me you +hadn't a word to say against the engagement. And she has begun +to buy in the best linen and cambric for her underclothing." + +"Not by my will," said Mr. Vincy. "I shall have enough to do this year, +with an idle scamp of a son, without paying for wedding-clothes. +The times are as tight as can be; everybody is being ruined; +and I don't believe Lydgate has got a farthing. I shan't give +my consent to their marrying. Let 'em wait, as their elders +have done before 'em." + +"Rosamond will take it hard, Vincy, and you know you never could +bear to cross her." + +"Yes, I could. The sooner the engagement's off, the better. +I don't believe he'll ever make an income, the way he goes on. +He makes enemies; that's all I hear of his making." + +"But he stands very high with Mr. Bulstrode, my dear. The marriage +would please HIM, I should think." + +"Please the deuce!" said Mr. Vincy. "Bulstrode won't pay for +their keep. And if Lydgate thinks I'm going to give money for them +to set up housekeeping, he's mistaken, that's all. I expect I shall +have to put down my horses soon. You'd better tell Rosy what I say." + +This was a not infrequent procedure with Mr. Vincy--to be rash +in jovial assent, and on becoming subsequently conscious that he had +been rash, to employ others in making the offensive retractation. +However, Mrs. Vincy, who never willingly opposed her husband, +lost no time the next morning in letting Rosamond know what he +had said. Rosamond, examining some muslin-work, listened in silence, +and at the end gave a certain turn of her graceful neck, of which +only long experience could teach you that it meant perfect obstinacy. + +"What do you say, my dear?" said her mother, with affectionate deference. + +"Papa does not mean anything of the kind," said Rosamond, quite calmly. +"He has always said that he wished me to marry the man I loved. +And I shall marry Mr. Lydgate. It is seven weeks now since papa gave +his consent. And I hope we shall have Mrs. Bretton's house." + +"Well, my dear, I shall leave you to manage your papa. You always +do manage everybody. But if we ever do go and get damask, +Sadler's is the place--far better than Hopkins's. Mrs. Bretton's +is very large, though: I should love you to have such a house; +but it will take a great deal of furniture--carpeting and everything, +besides plate and glass. And you hear, your papa says he will give +no money. Do you think Mr. Lydgate expects it?" + +"You cannot imagine that I should ask him, mamma. Of course he +understands his own affairs." + +"But he may have been looking for money, my dear, and we all thought +of your having a pretty legacy as well as Fred;--and now everything +is so dreadful--there's no pleasure in thinking of anything, +with that poor boy disappointed as he is." + +"That has nothing to do with my marriage, mamma. Fred must leave off +being idle. I am going up-stairs to take this work to Miss Morgan: +she does the open hemming very well. Mary Garth might do some work +for me now, I should think. Her sewing is exquisite; it is the nicest +thing I know about Mary. I should so like to have all my cambric +frilling double-hemmed. And it takes a long time." + +Mrs. Vincy's belief that Rosamond could manage her papa was +well founded. Apart from his dinners and his coursing, Mr. Vincy, +blustering as he was, had as little of his own way as if he had +been a prime minister: the force of circumstances was easily +too much for him, as it is for most pleasure-loving florid men; +and the circumstance called Rosamond was particularly forcible +by means of that mild persistence which, as we know, enables a white +soft living substance to make its way in spite of opposing rock. +Papa was not a rock: he had no other fixity than that fixity of +alternating impulses sometimes called habit, and this was altogether +unfavorable to his taking the only decisive line of conduct in relation +to his daughter's engagement--namely, to inquire thoroughly into +Lydgate's circumstances, declare his own inability to furnish money, +and forbid alike either a speedy marriage or an engagement which must +be too lengthy. That seems very simple and easy in the statement; +but a disagreeable resolve formed in the chill hours of the morning +had as many conditions against it as the early frost, and rarely +persisted under the warming influences of the day. The indirect +though emphatic expression of opinion to which Mr. Vincy was prone +suffered much restraint in this case: Lydgate was a proud man +towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and throwing his hat +on the floor was out of the question. Mr. Vincy was a little in awe +of him, a little vain that he wanted to marry Rosamond, a little +indisposed to raise a question of money in which his own position +was not advantageous, a little afraid of being worsted in dialogue +with a man better educated and more highly bred than himself, +and a little afraid of doing what his daughter would not like. +The part Mr. Vincy preferred playing was that of the generous host +whom nobody criticises. In the earlier half of the day there was +business to hinder any formal communication of an adverse resolve; +in the later there was dinner, wine, whist, and general satisfaction. +And in the mean while the hours were each leaving their little +deposit and gradually forming the final reason for inaction, namely, +that action was too late. The accepted lover spent most of his +evenings in Lowick Gate, and a love-making not at all dependent +on money-advances from fathers-in-law, or prospective income from +a profession, went on flourishingly under Mr. Vincy's own eyes. +Young love-making--that gossamer web! Even the points it +clings to--the things whence its subtle interlacings are swung-- +are scarcely perceptible: momentary touches of fingertips, +meetings of rays from blue and dark orbs, unfinished phrases, +lightest changes of cheek and lip, faintest tremors. The web itself +is made of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one +life towards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust. +And Lydgate fell to spinning that web from his inward self with +wonderful rapidity, in spite of experience supposed to be finished +off with the drama of Laure--in spite too of medicine and biology; +for the inspection of macerated muscle or of eyes presented in a dish +(like Santa Lucia's), and other incidents of scientific inquiry, +are observed to be less incompatible with poetic love than a native +dulness or a lively addiction to the lowest prose. As for Rosamond, +she was in the water-lily's expanding wonderment at its own fuller life, +and she too was spinning industriously at the mutual web. All this +went on in the corner of the drawing-room where the piano stood, +and subtle as it was, the light made it a sort of rainbow visible +to many observers besides Mr. Farebrother. The certainty that Miss +Vincy and Mr. Lydgate were engaged became general in Middlemarch +without the aid of formal announcement. + +Aunt Bulstrode was again stirred to anxiety; but this time she +addressed herself to her brother, going to the warehouse expressly +to avoid Mrs. Vincy's volatility. His replies were not satisfactory. + +"Walter, you never mean to tell me that you have allowed all +this to go on without inquiry into Mr. Lydgate's prospects?" +said Mrs. Bulstrode, opening her eyes with wider gravity at her brother, +who was in his peevish warehouse humor. "Think of this girl +brought up in luxury--in too worldly a way, I am sorry to say-- +what will she do on a small income?" + +"Oh, confound it, Harriet I what can I do when men come into +the town without any asking of mine? Did you shut your house up +against Lydgate? Bulstrode has pushed him forward more than anybody. +I never made any fuss about the young fellow. You should go +and talk to your husband about it, not me." + +"Well, really, Walter, how can Mr. Bulstrode be to blame? +I am sure he did not wish for the engagement." + +"Oh, if Bulstrode had not taken him by the hand, I should never +have invited him." + +"But you called him in to attend on Fred, and I am sure that was +a mercy," said Mrs. Bulstrode, losing her clew in the intricacies +of the subject. + +"I don't know about mercy," said Mr. Vincy, testily. "I know I +am worried 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 always show that friendly spirit towards your family that might +have been expected of him." Mr. Vincy was very little like a Jesuit, +but no accomplished Jesuit could have turned a question more adroitly. +Harriet had to defend her husband instead of blaming her brother, +and the conversation ended at a point as far from the beginning as +some recent sparring between the brothers-in-law at a vestry meeting. + +Mrs. Bulstrode did not repeat her brother's complaints to her husband, +but in the evening she spoke to him of Lydgate and Rosamond. +He did not share her warm interest, however; and only spoke with +resignation of the risks attendant on the beginning of medical +practice and the desirability of prudence. + +"I am sure we are bound to pray for that thoughtless girl-- +brought up as she has been," said Mrs. Bulstrode, wishing to rouse +her husband's feelings. + +"Truly, my dear," said Mr. Bulstrode, assentingly. "Those who are +not of this world can do little else to arrest the errors of the +obstinately worldly. That is what we must accustom ourselves to +recognize with regard to your brother's family. I could have wished +that Mr. Lydgate had not entered into such a union; but my relations +with him are limited to that use of his gifts for God's purposes +which is taught us by the divine government under each dispensation." + +Mrs. Bulstrode said no more, attributing some dissatisfaction which she +felt to her own want of spirituality. She believed that her husband +was one of those men whose memoirs should be written when they died. + +As to Lydgate himself, having been accepted, he was prepared to +accept all the consequences which he believed himself to foresee +with perfect clearness. Of course he must be married in a year-- +perhaps even in half a year. This was not what he had intended; +but other schemes would not be hindered: they would simply +adjust themselves anew. Marriage, of course, must be prepared +for in the usual way. A house must be taken instead of the rooms +he at present occupied; and Lydgate, having heard Rosamond speak +with admiration of old Mrs. Bretton's house (situated in Lowick +Gate), took notice when it fell vacant after the old lady's death, +and immediately entered into treaty for it. + +He did this in an episodic way, very much as he gave orders to his +tailor for every requisite of perfect dress, without any notion +of being extravagant. On the contrary, he would have despised any +ostentation of expense; his profession had familiarized him with all +grades of poverty, and he cared much for those who suffered hardships. +He would have behaved perfectly at a table where the sauce was served +in a jug with the handle off, and he would have remembered nothing +about a grand dinner except that a man was there who talked well. +But it had never occurred to him that he should live in any other +than what he would have called an ordinary way, with green glasses +for hock, and excellent waiting at table. In warming himself at +French social theories he had brought away no smell of scorching. +We may handle even extreme opinions with impunity while our furniture, +our dinner-giving, and preference for armorial bearings in our +own ease, link us indissolubly with the established order. +And Lydgate's tendency was not towards extreme opinions: he would +have liked no barefooted doctrines, being particular about his boots: +he was no radical in relation to anything but medical reform +and the prosecution of discovery. In the rest of practical life +he walked by hereditary habit; half from that personal pride +and unreflecting egoism which I have already called commonness, +and half from that naivete which belonged to preoccupation +with favorite ideas. + +Any inward debate Lydgate had as to the consequences of this +engagement which had stolen upon him, turned on the paucity of time +rather than of money. Certainly, being in love and being expected +continually by some one who always turned out to be prettier +than memory could represent her to be, did interfere with the +diligent use of spare hours which might serve some "plodding +fellow of a German" to make the great, imminent discovery. +This was really an argument for not deferring the marriage too long, +as he implied to Mr. Farebrother, one day that the Vicar came +to his room with some pond-products which he wanted to examine +under a better microscope than his own, and, finding Lydgate's +tableful of apparatus and specimens in confusion, said sarcastically-- + +"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 +begin after." + +"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. +I feel sure that marriage must be the best thing for a man who wants +to work steadily. He has everything at home then--no teasing with +personal speculations--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 with nothing but my pipe and pond-animalcules. Now, are you ready?" + +Lydgate did not mention to the Vicar another reason he had +for wishing to shorten the period of courtship. It was rather +irritating to him, even with the wine of love in his veins, to be +obliged to mingle so often with the family party at the Vincys', +and to enter so much into Middlemarch gossip, protracted good cheer, +whist-playing, and general futility. He had to be deferential +when Mr. Vincy decided questions with trenchant ignorance, +especially as to those liquors which were the best inward pickle, +preserving you from the effects of bad air. Mrs. Vincy's openness +and simplicity were quite unstreaked with suspicion as to the subtle +offence she might give to the taste of her intended son-in-law; +and altogether Lydgate had to confess to himself that he was +descending a little in relation to Rosamond's family. But that +exquisite creature herself suffered in the same sort of way:-- +it was at least one delightful thought that in marrying her, +he could give her a much-needed transplantation. + +"Dear!" he said to her one evening, in his gentlest tone, as he +sat down 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 the room, was opened to the summer scents of the garden at the +back of the house. Her father and mother were gone to a party, +and the rest were all out with the butterflies. + +"Dear! your eyelids are red." + +"Are they?" said Rosamond. "I wonder why." It was not in her +nature to pour forth wishes or grievances. They only came forth +gracefully on solicitation. + +"As if you could hide it from me!"? said Lydgate, laying his hand tenderly +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-day things:--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 this +morning there was a fresh quarrel because Fred threatens to throw +his whole education away, and do something quite beneath him. +And besides--" + +Rosamond hesitated, and her cheeks were gathering a slight flush. +Lydgate had never seen her in trouble since the morning of +their engagement, and he had never felt so passionately towards +her as at this moment. 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 he should certainly speak to you and say it must be given up." + +"Will you give it up?" said Lydgate, with quick energy--almost angrily. + +"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 +of purpose in the right place was adorable. He went on:-- + +"It is too late now for your father to say that our engagement +must be given up. You are of age, and I claim you as mine. +If anything is done to make 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 you +are invited to step from the labor and discord of the street into +a paradise where everything is given to you and nothing claimed) +seemed to be an affair of a few weeks' waiting, more or less. + +"Why should we defer it?" he said, with ardent insistence. +"I have taken 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 humorous incongruity. +"This is the first time I ever heard of wedding-clothes being +bought after marriage." + +"But you don't mean to say you would insist on my waiting months +for the sake of clothes?" said Lydgate, half thinking that Rosamond +was tormenting him prettily, and half fearing that she really shrank +from speedy marriage. "Remember, we are looking forward to a better +sort of happiness even than this--being continually together, +independent of others, and ordering our lives as we will. +Come, dear, tell me how soon you can be altogether mine." + +There was a serious pleading in Lydgate's tone, as if he felt that +she would be injuring him by any fantastic delays. Rosamond became +serious too, and slightly meditative; in fact, she was going through +many intricacies of lace-edging and hosiery and petticoat-tucking, +in order to give 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 +her neck 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 +of her evening dresses for the visit to Sir Godwin Lydgate's, which +she had long been secretly hoping for as a delightful employment +of at least one quarter of the honeymoon, even if she deferred +her introduction to the uncle who was a doctor of divinity (also +a pleasing though sober kind of rank, when sustained by blood). She +looked at her lover with some wondering remonstrance as she spoke, +and he readily understood that she might wish to lengthen the sweet +time of double solitude. + +"Whatever you wish, my darling, when the day is fixed. But let +us take a decided course, and put an end to any discomfort you +may be suffering. 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." +She blushed and looked at him as the garden flowers look at us when we +walk forth happily among them in the transcendent evening light: +is there not a soul beyond utterance, half nymph, half child, +in those delicate 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, +and they sat quite still for many minutes which flowed by them +like a small gurgling brook with the kisses of the sun upon it. +Rosamond thought that no one could be more in love than she was; +and Lydgate thought that after all his wild mistakes and absurd credulity, +he had found perfect womanhood--felt as If already breathed upon +by exquisite wedded affection such as would be bestowed by an +accomplished creature who venerated his high musings and momentous +labors and would never interfere with them; who would create order +in the home and accounts with still magic, yet keep her fingers ready +to touch the lute and transform life into romance at any moment; +who was instructed to the true womanly limit and not a hair's- +breadth beyond--docile, therefore, and ready to carry out behests +which came from that limit. It was plainer now than ever that his +notion of remaining much longer a bachelor had been a mistake: +marriage would not be an obstruction but a furtherance. +And happening the next day to accompany a patient to Brassing, +he saw a dinner-service there which struck him as so exactly the right +thing that he bought it at once. It saved time to do these things +just when you thought of them, and Lydgate hated ugly crockery. +The dinner-service in question was expensive, but that might be in +the nature of dinner-services. Furnishing was necessarily expensive; +but then it had to be done only once. + +"It must be lovely," said Mrs. Vincy, when Lydgate mentioned his +purchase with some descriptive touches. "Just what Rosy ought +to have. I trust 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. +But at that period there was no sort of reasoning which was not more +or less sanctioned by men of science.) + +Of course it was unnecessary to defer the mention of anything +to mamma, who did not readily take views that were not cheerful, +and being a happy wife herself, had hardly any feeling but pride +in her daughter's marriage. But Rosamond had good reasons for +suggesting to Lydgate that papa should be appealed to in writing. +She prepared for the arrival of the letter by walking with her papa +to the warehouse the next morning, and telling him on the way that +Mr. Lydgate wished to be married 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 +plainly before this. What have you had such an education for, +if you are to go and 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 +buy next year's swallows. It'll all slip through his fingers." + +"On the contrary, papa, he will increase the practice. See how he +has been called in by the Chettams and Casaubons." + +"I hope he knows I shan't give anything--with this disappointment +about Fred, and Parliament going to be dissolved, and machine-breaking +everywhere, 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 be hanged if I don't think it looks like it! Anyhow, it's not +a time for me to be drawing money out of my business, and I should +wish Lydgate to know that." + +"I am sure he expects nothing, papa. And he has such very +high connections: he is sure to rise in one way or another. +He is engaged in making scientific discoveries." + +Mr. Vincy was silent. + +"I cannot give up my only prospect of happiness, papa Mr. Lydgate +is a gentleman. I could never love any one who was not a +perfect gentleman. You would not like me to go into a consumption, +as Arabella Hawley 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 shall never give each other up; and you know that you have always +objected to long 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 car answer him,"-- +and Rosamond was certain that she had gained her point. + +Mr. Vincy's answer consisted chiefly in a demand that Lydgate +should insure his life--a demand immediately conceded. This was +a delightfully reassuring idea supposing that Lydgate died, +but in the mean time not a self-supporting idea. However, it +seemed to make everything comfortable about Rosamond's marriage; +and the necessary purchases went on with much spirit. Not without +prudential considerations, however. A bride (who is going to visit +at a baronet's) must have a few first-rate pocket-handkerchiefs; +but beyond the absolutely necessary half-dozen, Rosamond contented +herself without the very highest style of embroidery and Valenciennes. +Lydgate also, finding that his sum of eight hundred pounds had been +considerably reduced since he had come to Middlemarch, restrained his +inclination for some plate of an old pattern which was shown to him +when he went into Kibble's establishment at Brassing to buy forks +and spoons. He was too proud to act as if he presupposed that +Mr. Vincy would advance money to provide furniture-; and though, +since it would not be necessary to pay for everything at once, +some bills would be left standing over, he did not waste time in +conjecturing how much his father-in-law would give in the form of dowry, +to make payment easy. He was not going to do anything extravagant, +but the requisite things must be bought, and it would be bad economy +to buy them of a poor quality. All these matters were by the bye. +Lydgate foresaw that science and his profession were the objects +he should alone pursue enthusiastically; but he could not imagine +himself pursuing them in such a home as Wrench had--the doors +all open, the oil-cloth worn, the children in soiled pinafores, +and lunch lingering in the form of bones, black-handled knives, +and willow-pattern. But Wrench had a wretched lymphatic wife +who made a mummy of herself indoors in a large shawl; and he must +have altogether begun with an ill-chosen domestic apparatus. + +Rosamond, however, was on her side much occupied with conjectures, +though her quick imitative perception warned her against betraying +them too crudely. + +"I shall like so much to know your family," she said one day, +when the wedding journey was being discussed. "We might perhaps +take a direction that would allow us to see them as we returned. +Which of your uncles 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 a boy, +were you not? I should so like to see the old spot and everything +you were used to. Does he know you are going to be married?" + +"No," said Lydgate, carelessly, turning in his chair and rubbing +his hair up. + +"Do send him word of it, you naughty undutiful nephew. He will +perhaps ask you to take me to Quallingham; and then you could show +me about the grounds, and I could imagine you there when you were +a boy. Remember, you see me in my home, just as it has been since I +was a child. It is not fair that I should be so ignorant of yours. +But perhaps you would be a little ashamed of me. I forgot that." + +Lydgate smiled at her tenderly, and really accepted the suggestion +that the proud pleasure of showing so charming a bride was worth +some trouble. And now he came to think of it, he would like to see +the old spots with Rosamond. + +"I will write to him, then. But my cousins are bores." + +It seemed magnificent to Rosamond to be able to speak so slightingly +of a baronet's family, and she felt much contentment in the prospect +of being 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 or two +can be nothing to a baronet." + +"Mamma!" said Rosamond, blushing deeply; and Lydgate pitied her so +much that he remained silent and went to the other end of the room +to examine a print curiously, as if he had been absent-minded. Mamma +had a little filial lecture afterwards, and was docile as usual. +But Rosamond reflected that if any of those high-bred cousins +who were bores, should be induced to visit Middlemarch, they would +see many things in her own family which might shock them. Hence it +seemed desirable that Lydgate should by-and-by get some first-rate +position elsewhere than in Middlemarch; and this could hardly be +difficult in the case of a man who had a titled uncle and could +make discoveries. Lydgate, you perceive, had talked fervidly to Rosamond +of his hopes as to the highest uses of his life, and had found it +delightful to be listened to by a creature who would bring him the +sweet furtherance of satisfying affection--beauty--repose--such help +as our thoughts get from the summer sky and the flower-fringed meadows. + +Lydgate relied much on the psychological difference between +what for the sake of variety I will call goose and gander: +especially on the innate submissiveness of the goose as beautifully +corresponding to the strength 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 general +election or the end of the world that was coming on, now that George +the Fourth was dead, Parliament dissolved, Wellington and Peel +generally depreciated and the new King apologetic, was a feeble +type of the uncertainties in provincial opinion at that time. +With the glow-worm lights of country places, how could men see +which were their own thoughts in the confusion of a Tory Ministry +passing Liberal measures, of Tory nobles and electors being anxious +to return Liberals rather than friends of the recreant Ministers, +and of outcries for remedies which seemed to have a mysteriously remote +bearing on private interest, and were made suspicious by the advocacy +of disagreeable neighbors? Buyers of the Middlemarch newspapers +found themselves in an anomalous position: during the agitation +on the Catholic Question many had given up the "Pioneer"--which had +a motto from Charles James Fox and was in the 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 illsatisfied with the "Trumpet," which--since its +blasts against Rome, and in the general flaccidity of the public +mind (nobody knowing who would support whom)--had become feeble +in its blowing. + +It was a time, according to a noticeable article in the "Pioneer," +when the crying needs of the country might well counteract a reluctance +to public action on the part of men whose minds had from long +experience acquired breadth as well as concentration, decision of +judgment as well as tolerance, dispassionateness as well as energy-- +in fact, all those qualities which in the melancholy experience +of mankind have been the least disposed to share lodgings. + +Mr. Hackbutt, whose fluent speech was at that time floating more widely +than usual, and leaving much uncertainty as to its ultimate channel, +was heard to say in Mr. Hawley's office that the article in question +"emanated" from Brooke of Tipton, and that Brooke had secretly +bought the "Pioneer" some months ago. + +"That means mischief, eh?" said Mr. Hawley. "He's got the freak of +being a popular man now, after dangling about like a stray tortoise. +So much the worse for him. I've had my eye on him for some time. +He shall be prettily pumped upon. He's a damned bad landlord. +What business has 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 +writing himself. It would be worth our paying for." + +"I understand he has got a very brilliant young fellow to edit it, +who can write the highest style of leading article, quite equal +to anything in the London papers. And he means to take very high +ground on Reform." + +"Let Brooke reform his rent-roll. He's a cursed old screw, +and the buildings all over his estate are going to rack. +I sup pose this young fellow is some loose fish from London." + +"His name is Ladislaw. He is said to be of foreign extraction." + +"I know the sort," said Mr. Hawley; "some emissary. He'll begin with +flourishing about the Rights of Man and end with murdering a wench. +That's the style." + +"You must concede that there are abuses, Hawley," said Mr. Hackbutt, +foreseeing some political disagreement with his family lawyer. +"I myself should never favor immoderate views--in fact I take my +stand with Huskisson--but I cannot blind myself to the consideration +that the non-representation of large towns--" + +"Large towns be damned!" said Mr. Hawley, impatient of exposition. +"I know a little too much about Middlemarch elections. Let 'em +quash every pocket borough to-morrow, and bring in every mushroom +town in the kingdom--they'll only increase the expense of getting +into Parliament. I go upon facts." + +Mr. Hawley's disgust at the notion of the "Pioneer" being edited +by an emissary, and of Brooke becoming actively political-- +as if a tortoise of desultory pursuits should protrude its small +head ambitiously and become rampant--was hardly equal to the +annoyance felt by some members of Mr. Brooke's own family. +The result had oozed forth gradually, like the discovery that your +neighbor has set up an unpleasant kind of manufacture which will be +permanently under your nostrils without legal remedy. The "Pioneer" +had been secretly bought even before Will Ladislaw's arrival, +the expected opportunity having offered itself in the readiness +of the proprietor to part with a valuable property which did not pay; +and in the interval since Mr. Brooke had written his invitation, +those germinal ideas of making his mind tell upon the world at +large which had been present in him from his younger years, but had +hitherto lain in some obstruction, had been sprouting under cover. + +The development was much furthered by a delight in his guest which +proved greater even than he had anticipated. For it seemed that Will +was not only at home in all those artistic and literary subjects +which Mr. Brooke had gone into at one time, but that he was strikingly +ready at seizing the points of the political situation, and dealing +with them in that large spirit which, aided by adequate memory, +lends itself to quotation and general effectiveness of treatment. + +"He seems to me a kind of Shelley, you know," Mr. Brooke took +an opportunity of saying, for the gratification of Mr. Casaubon. +"I don't mean as to anything objectionable--laxities or atheism, +or anything of that kind, you know--Ladislaw's sentiments in every +way I am sure are good--indeed, we were talking a great deal +together last night. But he has the same sort of enthusiasm +for liberty, freedom, emancipation--a fine thing under guidance-- +under guidance, you know. I think I shall be able to put him on +the right tack; and I am the more pleased because he is a relation +of yours, Casaubon." + +If the right tack implied anything more precise than the rest +of Mr. Brooke's speech, Mr. Casaubon silently hoped that it +referred to some occupation at a great distance from Lowick. +He had disliked Will while he helped him, but he had begun to dislike +him still more now that Will had declined his help. That is the +way with us when we have any uneasy jealousy in our disposition: +if our talents are chiefly of the burrowing kind, our honey-sipping +cousin (whom we have grave reasons for objecting to) is likely +to have a secret contempt for us, and any one who admires him +passes an oblique criticism on ourselves. Having the scruples of +rectitude in our souls, we are above the meanness of injuring him-- +rather we meet all his claims on us by active benefits; and the drawing +of cheeks for him, being a superiority which he must recognize, +gives our bitterness a milder infusion. Now Mr. Casaubon had been +deprived of that superiority (as anything more than a remembrance) +in a sudden, capricious manner. His antipathy to Will did +not spring from the common jealousy of a winter-worn husband: +it was something deeper, bred by his lifelong claims and discontents; +but Dorothea, now that she was present--Dorothea, as a young +wife who herself had shown an offensive capability of criticism, +necessarily gave concentration to the uneasiness which had before +been vague. + +Will Ladislaw on his side felt that his dislike was flourishing +at the expense of his gratitude, and spent much inward discourse in +justifying the dislike. Casaubon hated him--he knew that very well; +on his first entrance he could discern a bitterness in the mouth +and a venom in the glance which would almost justify declaring war +in spite of past benefits. He was much obliged to Casaubon in the past, +but really the act of marrying this wife was a set-off against +the obligation It was a question whether gratitude which refers +to what is done for one's self ought not to give way to indignation +at what is done against another. And Casaubon had done a wrong +to Dorothea in marrying her. A man was bound to know himself better +than that, and if he chose to grow gray crunching bones in a cavern, +he had no business to be luring a girl into his companionship. +"It is the most horrible of virgin-sacrifices," said Will; and he +painted to himself what were Dorothea's inward sorrows as if he had +been writing a choric wail. But he would never lose sight of her: +he would watch over her--if he gave up everything else in life +he would watch over her, and she should know that she had one +slave in the world, Will had--to use Sir Thomas Browne's phrase-- +a "passionate prodigality" of statement both to himself and others. +The simple truth was that nothing then invited him so strongly as the +presence of Dorothea. + +Invitations of the formal kind had been wanting, however, for Will +had never been asked to go to Lowick. Mr. Brooke, indeed, confident of +doing everything agreeable which Casaubon, poor fellow, was too much +absorbed to think of, had arranged to bring Ladislaw to Lowick +several times (not neglecting meanwhile to introduce him elsewhere +on every opportunity as "a young relative of Casaubon's"). And +though Will had not seen Dorothea alone, their interviews had been +enough to restore her former sense of young companionship with one +who was cleverer than herself, yet seemed ready to be swayed by her. +Poor Dorothea before her marriage had never found much room +in other minds for what she cared most to say; and she had not, +as we know, enjoyed her husband's superior instruction so much +as she had expected. If she spoke with any keenness of interest +to Mr. Casaubon, he heard her with an air of patience as if she +had given a quotation from the Delectus familiar to him from his +tender years, and sometimes mentioned curtly what ancient sects +or personages had held similar ideas, as if there were too much +of that sort in stock already; at other times he would inform +her that she was mistaken, and reassert what her remark had questioned. + +But Will Ladislaw always seemed to see more in what she said than she +herself saw. Dorothea had little vanity, but she had the ardent +woman's need to rule beneficently by making the joy of another soul. +Hence the mere chance of seeing Will occasionally was like a lunette +opened in the wall of her prison, giving her a glimpse of the sunny air; +and this pleasure began to nullify her original alarm at what her husband +might think about the introduction of Will as her uncle's guest. +On this subject Mr. Casaubon had remained dumb. + +But Will wanted to talk with Dorothea alone, and was impatient +of slow circumstance. However slight the terrestrial intercourse +between Dante and Beatrice or Petrarch and Laura, time changes +the proportion of things, and in later days it is preferable to have +fewer sonnets and more conversation. Necessity excused stratagem, +but stratagem was limited by the dread of offending Dorothea. +He found out at last that he wanted to take a particular sketch +at Lowick; and one morning when Mr. Brooke had to drive along +the Lowick road on his way to the county town, Will asked to be set +down with his sketch-book and camp-stool at Lowick, and without +announcing himself at the Manor settled himself to sketch in a +position where he must see Dorothea if she came out to walk-- +and he knew that she usually walked an hour in the morning. + +But the stratagem was defeated by the weather. Clouds gathered with +treacherous quickness, the rain came down, and Will was obliged to take +shelter in the house. He intended, on the strength of relationship, +to go into the drawing-room and wait there without being announced; +and seeing his old acquaintance the butler in the hall, he said, +"Don't mention that I am here, Pratt; I will wait till luncheon; +I know Mr. Casaubon does not like to be disturbed when he is in +the library." + +"Master is out, sir; there's only Mrs. Casaubon in the library. +I'd better tell her you're here, sir," said Pratt, a red-cheeked +man given to lively converse with Tantripp, and often agreeing with +her that it must be dull for Madam. + +"Oh, very well; this confounded rain has hindered me from sketching," +said Will, feeling so happy that he affected indifference with +delightful ease. + +In another minute he was in the library, and Dorothea was meeting +him with her sweet unconstrained smile. + +"Mr. Casaubon has gone to the Archdeacon's," she said, at once. +"I don't know whether he will be at home again long before dinner. +He was uncertain how long he should be. Did you want to say anything +particular to him?" + +"No; I came to sketch, but the rain drove me in. Else I would +not have disturbed you yet. I supposed that Mr. Casaubon was here, +and I know he dislikes interruption at this hour." + +"I am indebted to the rain, then. I am so glad to see you." +Dorothea uttered these common words with the simple sincerity of an +unhappy child, visited at school. + +"I really came for the chance of seeing you alone," said Will, +mysteriously forced to be just as simple as she was. He could +not stay to ask himself, why not? "I wanted to talk about things, +as we did in Rome. It always makes a difference when other people +are present." + +"Yes," said Dorothea, in her clear full tone of assent. "Sit down." +She seated herself on a dark ottoman with the brown books behind her, +looking in her plain dress of some thin woollen-white material, +without a single ornament on her besides her wedding-ring, +as if she were under a vow to be different from all other women; +and Will sat down opposite her at two yards' distance, the light +falling on his bright curls and delicate but rather petulant profile, +with its defiant curves of lip and chin. Each looked at the other +as if they had been two flowers which had opened then and there. +Dorothea for the moment forgot her husband's mysterious irritation +against Will: it seemed fresh water at her thirsty lips to speak +without fear to the one person whom she had found receptive; for in +looking backward through sadness she exaggerated a past solace. + +"I have often thought that I should like to talk to you again," +she said, immediately. "It seems strange to me how many things I +said to you." + +"I remember them all," said Will, with the unspeakable content +in his soul of feeling that he was in the presence of a creature +worthy to be perfectly loved. I think his own feelings at that +moment were perfect, for we mortals have our divine moments, +when love is satisfied in the completeness the beloved object. + +"I have tried to learn a great deal since we were in Rome," +said Dorothea. "I can read Latin a little, and I am beginning to +understand just a little Greek. I can help Mr. Casaubon better now. +I can find out references for him and save his eyes in many ways. +But it is very difficult to be learned; it seems as if people were +worn out on the way to great thoughts, and can never enjoy them +because they are too tired." + +"If a man has a capacity for great thoughts, he is likely to overtake +them before he is decrepit," said Will, with irrepressible quickness. +But through certain sensibilities Dorothea was as quick as he, +and seeing her face change, he added, immediately, "But it is quite +true that the best minds have been sometimes overstrained in working +out their ideas." + +"You correct me," said Dorothea. "I expressed myself ill. +I should have said that those who have great thoughts get too much +worn in working them out. I used to feel about that, even when I +was a little girl; and it always seemed to me that the use I should +like to make of my life would be to help some one who did great works, +so that his burthen might be lighter." + +Dorothea was led on to this bit of autobiography without any +sense of making a revelation. But she had never before said +anything to Will which threw so strong a light on her marriage. +He did not shrug his shoulders; and for want of that muscular +outlet he thought the more irritably of beautiful lips kissing +holy skulls and other emptinesses ecclesiastically enshrined. +Also he had to take care that his speech should not betray that thought. + +"But you may easily carry the help too far," he said, "and get +over-wrought yourself. Are you not too much shut up? You already +look paler. It would be better for Mr. Casaubon to have a secretary; +he could easily get a man who would do half his work for him. +It would save him more effectually, and you need only help him in +lighter ways." + +"How can you think of that?" said Dorothea, in a tone of +earnest remonstrance. "I should have no happiness if I did not +help him in his work. What could I do? There is no good to be +done in Lowick. The only thing I desire is to help him more. +And he objects to a secretary: please not to mention that again." + +"Certainly not, now I know your feeling. But I have heard both +Mr. Brooke and Sir James Chettam express the same wish." + +"Yes?" said Dorothea, "but they don't understand--they want me +to be a great deal on horseback, and have the garden altered and +new conservatories, to fill up my days. I thought you could understand +that one's mind has other wants," she added, rather impatiently-- +"besides, Mr. Casaubon cannot bear to hear of a secretary." + +"My mistake is excusable," said Will. "In old days I used to hear +Mr. Casaubon speak as if he looked forward to having a secretary. +Indeed he held out the prospect of that office to me. But I turned +out to be--not good enough for it." + +Dorothea was trying to extract out of this an excuse for her +husband's evident repulsion, as she said, with a playful smile, +"You were not a steady worker enough." + +"No," said Will, shaking his head backward somewhat after the manner +of a-spirited horse. And then, the old irritable demon prompting him +to give another good pinch at the moth-wings of poor Mr. Casaubon's +glory, he went on, "And I have seen since that Mr. Casaubon does +not like any one to overlook his work. and know thoroughly what he +is doing. He is too doubtful--too uncertain of himself. I may +not be good for much, but he dislikes me because I disagree with him." + +Will was not without his intentions to be always generous, +but our tongues are little triggers which have usually been pulled +before general intentions can be brought to bear. And it was too +intolerable that Casaubon's dislike of him should not be fairly +accounted for to Dorothea. Yet when he had spoken he was rather +uneasy as to the effect on her. + +But Dorothea was strangely quiet--not immediately indignant, +as she had been on a like occasion in Rome. And the cause lay deep. +She was no longer struggling against the perception of facts, +but adjusting herself to their clearest perception; and now when she +looked steadily at her husband's failure, still more at his possible +consciousness of failure, she seemed to be looking along the one +tract where duty became tenderness. Will's want of reticence +might have been met with more severity, if he had not already been +recommended to her mercy by her husband's dislike, which must seem +hard to her till she saw better reason for it. + +She did not answer at once, but after looking down ruminatingly +she said, with some earnestness, "Mr. Casaubon must have overcome +his dislike of you so far as his actions were concerned: +and that is admirable." + +"Yes; he has shown a sense of justice in family matters. +It was an abominable thing that my grandmother should have been +disinherited because she made what they called a mesalliance, +though there was nothing to be said against her husband except +that he was a Polish refugee who gave lessons for his bread." + +"I wish I knew all about her!" said Dorothea. "I wonder how she +bore the change from wealth to poverty: I wonder whether she +was happy with her husband! Do you know much about them?" + +"No; only that my grandfather was a patriot--a bright fellow-- +could speak many languages--musical--got his bread by teaching +all sorts of things. They both died rather early. And I never +knew much of my father, beyond what my mother told me; but he +inherited the musical talents. I remember his slow walk and his +long thin hands; and one day remains with me when he was lying ill, +and I was very hungry, and had only a little bit of bread." + +"Ah, what a different life from mine!" said Dorothea, +with keen interest, clasping her hands on her lap. "I have +always had too much of everything. But tell me how it was-- +Mr. Casaubon could not have known about you then." + +"No; but my father had made himself known to Mr. Casaubon, +and that was my last hungry day. My father died soon after, +and my mother and I were well taken care of. Mr. Casaubon always +expressly recognized it as his duty to take care of us because of +the harsh injustice which had been shown to his mother's sister. +But now I am telling you what is not new to you." + +In his inmost soul Will was conscious of wishing to tell Dorothea +what was rather new even in his own construction of things-- +namely, that Mr. Casaubon had never done more than pay a debt +towards him. Will was much too good a fellow to be easy under +the sense of being ungrateful. And when gratitude has become +a matter of reasoning there are many ways of escaping from its bonds. + +"No," answered Dorothea; "Mr. Casaubon has always avoided dwelling +on his own honorable actions." She did not feel that her husband's +conduct was depreciated; but this notion of what justice had required +in his relations with Will Ladislaw took strong hold on her mind. +After a moment's pause, she added, "He had never told me that he +supported your mother. Is she still living?" + +"No; she died by an accident--a fall--four years ago. It is curious +that my mother, too, ran away from her family, but not for the sake +of her husband. She never would tell me anything about her family, +except that she forsook them to get her own living--went on the stage, +in fact. She was a dark-eyed creature, with crisp ringlets, +and never seemed to be getting old. You see I come of rebellious +blood on both sides," Will ended, smiling brightly at Dorothea, +while she was still looking with serious intentness before her, +like a child seeing a drama for the first time. + +But her face, too, broke into a smile as she said, "That is +your apology, I suppose, for having yourself been rather rebellious; +I mean, to Mr. Casaubon's wishes. You must remember that you have +not done what he thought best for you. And if he dislikes you-- +you were speaking of dislike a little while ago--but I should +rather say, if he has shown any painful feelings towards you, +you must consider how sensitive he has become from the wearing effect +of study. Perhaps," she continued, getting into a pleading tone, +"my uncle has not told you how serious Mr. Casaubon's illness was. +It would be very petty of us who are well and can bear things, +to think much of small offences from those who carry a weight +of trial." + +"You teach me better," said Will. "I will never grumble on that +subject again." There was a gentleness in his tone which came from +the unutterable contentment of perceiving--what Dorothea was hardly +conscious of--that she was travelling into the remoteness of pure +pity and loyalty towards her husband. Will was ready to adore +her pity and loyalty, if she would associate himself with her in +manifesting them. "I have really sometimes been a perverse fellow," +he went on, "but I will never again, if I can help it, do or say +what you would disapprove." + +"That is very good of you," said Dorothea, with another open smile. +"I shall have a little kingdom then, where I shall give laws. +But you will soon go away, out of my rule, I imagine. You will soon +be tired of staying at the Grange." + +"That is a point I wanted to mention to you--one of the reasons why I +wished to speak to you alone. Mr. Brooke proposes that I should stay +in this neighborhood. He has bought one of the Middlemarch newspapers, +and he wishes me to conduct that, and also to help him in other ways." + +"Would not that be a sacrifice of higher prospects for you?" +said Dorothea. + +"Perhaps; but I have always been blamed for thinking of prospects, +and not settling to anything. And here is something offered to me. +If you would not like me to accept it, I will give it up. +Otherwise I would rather stay in this part of the country than go away. +I belong to nobody anywhere else." + +"I should like you to stay very much," said Dorothea, at once, +as simply and readily as she had spoken at Rome. There was not +the shadow of a reason in her mind at the moment why she should +not say so. + +"Then I WILL stay," said Ladislaw, shaking his head backward, +rising and going towards the window, as if to see whether the rain +had ceased. + +But the next moment, Dorothea, according to a habit which was +getting continually stronger, began to reflect that her husband felt +differently from herself, and she colored deeply under the double +embarrassment of having expressed what might be in opposition to her +husband's feeling, and of having to suggest this opposition to Will. +If is face was not turned towards her, and this made it easier to say-- + +"But my opinion is of little consequence on such a subject. +I think you should be guided by Mr. Casaubon. I spoke without +thinking of anything else than my own feeling, which has +nothing to do with the real question. But it now occurs to me-- +perhaps Mr. Casaubon might see that the proposal was not wise. +Can you not wait now and mention it to him?" + +"I can't wait to-day," said Will, inwardly seared by the possibility +that Mr. Casaubon would enter. "The rain is quite over now. I told +Mr. Brooke not to call for me: I would rather walk the five miles. +I shall strike across Halsell Common, and see the gleams on the +wet grass. I like that." + +He approached her to shake hands quite hurriedly, longing but not +daring to say, "Don't mention the subject to Mr. Casaubon." +No, he dared not, could not say it. To ask her to be less simple +and direct would be like breathing on the crystal that you want to +see the light through. And there was always the other great dread-- +of himself becoming dimmed and forever ray-shorn in her eyes. + +"I wish you could have stayed," said Dorothea, with a touch +of mournfulness, as she rose and put out her hand. She also had +her thought which she did not like to express:--Will certainly +ought to lose no time in consulting Mr. Casaubon's wishes, +but for her to urge this might seem an undue dictation. + +So they only said "Good-by," and Will quitted the house, +striking across the fields so as not to run any risk of encountering +Mr. Casaubon's carriage, which, however, did not appear at the gate +until four o'clock. That was an unpropitious hour for coming home: +it was too early to gain the moral support under ennui of dressing +his person for dinner, and too late to undress his mind of the day's +frivolous ceremony and affairs, so as to be prepared for a good +plunge into the serious business of study. On such occasions he +usually threw into an easy-chair in the library, and allowed Dorothea +to read the London papers to him, closing his eyes the while. +To-day, however, he declined that relief, observing that he had +already had too many public details urged upon him; but he spoke +more cheerfully than usual, when Dorothea asked about his fatigue, +and added with that air of formal effort which never forsook +him even when he spoke without his waistcoat and cravat-- + +"I have had the gratification of meeting my former acquaintance, +Dr. Spanning, to-day, and of being praised by one who is himself +a worthy recipient of praise. He spoke very handsomely of my late +tractate on the Egyptian Mysteries,--using, in fact, terms which it +would not become me to repeat." In uttering the last clause, +Mr. Casaubon leaned over the elbow of his chair, and swayed his +head up and down, apparently as a muscular outlet instead of that +recapitulation which would not have been becoming. + +"I am very glad you have had that pleasure," said Dorothea, +delighted to see her husband less weary than usual at this hour. +"Before you came I had been regretting that you happened to be +out to-day." + +"Why so, my dear?" said Mr. Casaubon, throwing himself backward again. + +"Because Mr. Ladislaw has been here; and he has mentioned a proposal +of my uncle's which I should like to know your opinion of." +Her husband she felt was really concerned in this question. +Even with her ignorance of the world she had a vague impression +that the position offered to Will was out of keeping with his family +connections, and certainly Mr. Casaubon had a claim to be consulted. +He did not speak, but merely bowed. + +"Dear uncle, you know, has many projects. It appears that he +has bought one of the Middlemarch newspapers, and he has asked +Mr. Ladislaw to stay in this neighborhood and conduct the paper +for him, besides helping him in other ways." + +Dorothea looked at her husband while she spoke, but he had at +first blinked and finally closed his eyes, as if to save them; +while his lips became more tense. "What is your opinion?" she added, +rather timidly, after a slight pause. + +"Did Mr. Ladislaw come on purpose to ask my opinion?" said Mr. Casaubon, +opening his eyes narrowly with a knife-edged look at Dorothea. +She was really uncomfortable on the point he inquired about, but she +only became a little more serious, and her eyes did not swerve. + +"No," she answered immediately, "he did not say that he came to ask +your opinion. But when he mentioned the proposal, he of course +expected me to tell you of it." + +Mr. Casaubon was silent. + +"I feared that you might feel some objection. But certainly +a young man with so much talent might be very useful to my uncle-- +might help him to do good in a better way. And Mr. Ladislaw wishes +to have some fixed occupation. He has been blamed, he says, +for not seeking something of that kind, and he would like to stay +in this neighborhood because no one cares for him elsewhere." + +Dorothea felt that this was a consideration to soften her husband. +However, he did not speak, and she presently recurred to Dr. Spanning +and the Archdeacon's breakfast. But there was no longer sunshine +on these subjects. + +The next morning, without Dorothea's knowledge, Mr. Casaubon +despatched the following letter, beginning "Dear Mr. Ladislaw" +(he had always before addressed him as "Will"):-- + +"Mrs. Casaubon informs me that a proposal has been made to you, +and (according to an inference by no means stretched) has on your +part been in some degree entertained, which involves your residence +in this neighborhood in a capacity which I am justified in saying +touches my own position in such a way as renders it not only natural +and warrantable IN me when that effect is viewed under the +influence of legitimate feeling, but incumbent on me when the same +effect is considered in the light of my responsibilities, to state +at once that your acceptance of the proposal above indicated would +be highly offensive to me. That I have some claim to the exercise +of a veto here, would not, I believe, be denied by any reasonable +person cognizant of the relations between us: relations which, +though thrown into the past by your recent procedure, are not +thereby annulled in their character of determining antecedents. +I will not here make reflections on any person's judgment. +It is enough for me to point out to yourself that there are certain +social fitnesses and proprieties which should hinder a somewhat +near relative of mine from becoming any wise conspicuous in this +vicinity in a status not only much beneath my own, but associated +at best with the sciolism of literary or political adventurers. +At any rate, the contrary issue must exclude you from further +reception at my house. + Yours faithfully, + "EDWARD CASAUBON." + +Meanwhile Dorothea's mind was innocently at work towards the further +embitterment of her husband; dwelling, with a sympathy that grew to +agitation, on what Will had told her about his parents and grandparents. +Any private hours in her day were usually spent in her blue-green +boudoir, and she had come to be very fond of its pallid quaintness. +Nothing had been outwardly altered there; but while the summer had +gradually advanced over the western fields beyond the avenue of elms, +the bare room had gathered within it those memories of an inward life +which fill the air as with a cloud of good or had angels, the invisible +yet active forms of our spiritual triumphs or our spiritual falls. +She had been so used to struggle for and to find resolve in looking +along the avenue towards the arch of western light that the vision +itself had gained a communicating power. Even the pale stag seemed +to have reminding glances and to mean mutely, "Yes, we know." +And the group of delicately touched miniatures had made an audience +as of beings no longer disturbed about their own earthly lot, +but still humanly interested. Especially the mysterious "Aunt Julia" +about whom Dorothea had never found it easy to question her husband. + +And now, since her conversation with Will, many fresh images +had gathered round that Aunt Julia who was Will's grandmother; +the presence of that delicate miniature, so like a living face +that she knew, helping to concentrate her feelings. What a wrong, +to cut off the girl from the family protection and inheritance only +because she had chosen a man who was poor! Dorothea, early troubling +her elders with questions about the facts around her, had wrought +herself into some independent clearness as to the historical, +political reasons why eldest sons had superior rights, and why land +should be entailed: those reasons, impressing her with a certain awe, +might be weightier than she knew, but here was a question of ties +which left them uninfringed. Here was a daughter whose child-- +even according to the ordinary aping of aristocratic institutions +by people who are no more aristocratic than retired grocers, +and who have no more land to "keep together" than a lawn and a paddock-- +would have a prior claim. Was inheritance a question of liking +or of responsibility? All the energy of Dorothea's nature went on +the side of responsibility--the fulfilment of claims founded on our +own deeds, such as marriage and parentage. + +It was true, she said to herself, that Mr. Casaubon had a debt +to the Ladislaws--that he had to pay back what the Ladislaws had +been wronged of. And now she began to think of her husband's will, +which had been made at the time of their marriage, leaving the bulk +of his property to her, with proviso in case of her having children. +That ought to be altered; and no time ought to be lost. This very +question which had just arisen about Will Ladislaw's occupation, +was the occasion for placing things on a new, right footing. +Her husband, she felt sure, according to all his previous conduct, +would be ready to take the just view, if she proposed it--she, in whose +interest an unfair concentration of the property had been urged. +His sense of right had surmounted and would continue to surmount +anything that might be called antipathy. She suspected that her +uncle's scheme was disapproved by Mr. Casaubon, and this made it seem +all the more opportune that a fresh understanding should be begun, +so that instead of Will's starting penniless and accepting the first +function that offered itself, he should find himself in possession +of a rightful income which should be paid by her husband during +his life, and, by an immediate alteration of the will, should +be secured at his death. The vision of all this as what ought +to be done seemed to Dorothea like a sudden letting in of daylight, +waking her from her previous stupidity and incurious self-absorbed +ignorance about her husband's relation to others. Will Ladislaw +had refused Mr. Casaubon's future aid on a ground that no longer +appeared right to her; and Mr. Casaubon had never himself seen +fully what was the claim upon him. "But he will!" said Dorothea. +"The great strength of his character lies here. And what are we +doing with our money? We make no use of half of our income. My own +money buys me nothing but an uneasy conscience." + +There was a peculiar fascination for Dorothea in this division of +property intended for herself, and always regarded by her as excessive. +She was blind, you see, to many things obvious to others-- +likely to tread in the wrong places, as Celia had warned her; +yet her blindness to whatever did not lie in her own pure purpose +carried her safely by the side of precipices where vision would +have been perilous with fear. + +The thoughts which had gathered vividness in the solitude of her +boudoir occupied her incessantly through the day on which Mr. Casaubon +had sent his letter to Will. Everything seemed hindrance to her till +she could find an opportunity of opening her heart to her husband. +To his preoccupied mind all subjects were to be approached gently, +and she had never since his illness lost from her consciousness +the dread of agitating him. Bat when young ardor is set brooding +over the conception of a prompt deed, the deed itself seems +to start forth with independent life, mastering ideal obstacles. +The day passed in a sombre fashion, not unusual, though Mr. Casaubon +was perhaps unusually silent; but there were hours of the night which +might be counted on as opportunities of conversation; for Dorothea, +when aware of her husband's sleeplessness, had established a habit +of rising, lighting a candle, and reading him to sleep again. And this +night she was from the beginning sleepless, excited by resolves. +He slept as usual for a few hours, but she had risen softly and had +sat in the darkness for nearly an hour before he said-- + +"Dorothea, since you are up, will you light a candle?" + +"Do you feel ill, dear?" was her first question, as she obeyed him. + +"No, not at all; but I shall be obliged, since you are up, if you +will read me a few pages of Lowth." + +"May I talk to you a little instead?" said Dorothea. + +"Certainly." + +"I have been thinking about money all day--that I have always +had too much, and especially the prospect of too much." + +"These, my dear Dorothea, are providential arrangements." + +"But if one has too much in consequence of others being wronged, +it seems to me that the divine voice which tells us to set that wrong +right must be obeyed." + +"What, my love, is the bearing of your remark?" + +"That you have been too liberal in arrangements for me--I mean, +with regard to property; and that makes me unhappy." + +"How so? I have none but comparatively distant connections." + +"I have been led to think about your aunt Julia, and how she was left +in poverty only because she married a poor man, an act which was +not disgraceful, since he was not unworthy. It was on that ground, +I know, that you educated Mr. Ladislaw and provided for his mother." + +Dorothea waited a few moments for some answer that would help her onward. +None came, and her next words seemed the more forcible to her, +falling clear upon the dark silence. + +"But surely we should regard his claim as a much greater one, even to +the half of that property which I know that you have destined for me. +And I think he ought at once to be provided for on that understanding. +It is not right that he should be in the dependence of poverty +while we are rich. And if there is any objection to the proposal +he mentioned, the giving him his true place and his true share +would set aside any motive for his accepting it." + +"Mr. Ladislaw has probably been speaking to you on this subject?" +said Mr. Casaubon, with a certain biting quickness not habitual +to him. + +"Indeed, no!" said Dorothea, earnestly. "How can you imagine it, +since he has so lately declined everything from you? I fear you +think too hardly of him, dear. He only told me a little about his +parents and grandparents, and almost all in answer to my questions. +You are so good, so just--you have done everything you thought +to be right. But it seems to me clear that more than that is right; +and I must speak about it, since I am the person who would get what is +called benefit by that `more' not being done." + +There was a perceptible pause before Mr. Casaubon replied, +not quickly as before, but with a still more biting emphasis. + +"Dorothea, my love, this is not the first occasion, but it were well +that it should be the last, on which you have assumed a judgment +on subjects beyond your scope. Into the question how far conduct, +especially in the matter of alliances, constitutes a forfeiture +of family claims, I do not now enter. Suffice it, that you +are not here qualified to discriminate. What I now wish you to +understand is, that I accept no revision, still less dictation within +that range of affairs which I have deliberated upon as distinctly +and properly mine. It is not for you to interfere between me +and Mr. Ladislaw, and still less to encourage communications +from him to you which constitute a criticism on my procedure." + +Poor Dorothea, shrouded in the darkness, was in a tumult of +conflicting emotions. Alarm at the possible effect on himself of her +husband's strongly manifested anger, would have checked any expression +of her own resentment, even if she had been quite free from doubt +and compunction under the consciousness that there might be some +justice in his last insinuation. Hearing him breathe quickly after +he had spoken, she sat listening, frightened, wretched--with a dumb +inward cry for help to bear this nightmare of a life in which every +energy was arrested by dread. But nothing else happened, except +that they both remained a long while sleepless, without speaking again. + +The next day, Mr. Casaubon received the following answer from +Will Ladislaw:-- + +"DEAR MR. CASAUBON,--I have given all due consideration to your letter +of yesterday, but I am unable to take precisely your view of our +mutual position. With the fullest acknowledgment of your generous +conduct to me in the past, I must still maintain that an obligation +of this kind cannot fairly fetter me as you appear to expect that +it should. Granted that a benefactor's wishes may constitute a claim; +there must always be a reservation as to the quality of those wishes. +They may possibly clash with more imperative considerations. +Or a benefactor's veto might impose such a negation on a man's life +that the consequent blank might be more cruel than the benefaction +was generous. I am merely using strong illustrations. In the present +case I am unable to take your view of the bearing which my acceptance +of occupation--not enriching certainly, but not dishonorable-- +will have on your own position which seems to me too substantial +to be affected in that shadowy manner. And though I do not believe +that any change in our relations will occur (certainly none has +yet occurred) which can nullify the obligations imposed on me +by the past, pardon me for not seeing that those obligations should +restrain me from using the ordinary freedom of living where I choose, +and maintaining myself by any lawful occupation I may choose. +Regretting that there exists this difference between us as to a relation +in which the conferring of benefits has been entirely on your side-- + I remain, yours with persistent obligation, + WILL LADISLAW." + +Poor Mr. Casaubon felt (and must not we, being impartial, feel with him +a little?) that no man had juster cause for disgust and suspicion +than he. Young Ladislaw, he was sure, meant to defy and annoy him, +meant to win Dorothea's confidence and sow her mind with disrespect, +and perhaps aversion, towards her husband. Some motive beneath +the surface had been needed to account for Will's sudden change +of in rejecting Mr. Casaubon's aid and quitting his travels; +and this defiant determination to fix himself in the neighborhood +by taking up something so much at variance with his former choice +as Mr. Brooke's Middlemarch projects, revealed clearly enough that +the undeclared motive had relation to Dorothea. Not for one moment +did Mr. Casaubon suspect Dorothea of any doubleness: he had no +suspicions of her, but he had (what was little less uncomfortable) +the positive knowledge that her tendency to form opinions about +her husband's conduct was accompanied with a disposition to regard +Will Ladislaw favorably and be influenced by what he said. +His own proud reticence had prevented him from ever being undeceived +in the supposition that Dorothea had originally asked her uncle +to invite Will to his house. + +And now, on receiving Will's letter, Mr. Casaubon had to consider +his duty. He would never have been easy to call his action anything +else than duty; but in this case, contending motives thrust him +back into negations. + +Should he apply directly to Mr. Brooke, and demand of that troublesome +gentleman to revoke his proposal? Or should he consult Sir James Chettam, +and get him to concur in remonstrance against a step which touched +the whole family? In either case Mr. Casaubon was aware that failure +was just as probable as success. It was impossible for him to mention +Dorothea's name in the matter, and without some alarming urgency +Mr. Brooke was as likely as not, after meeting all representations +with apparent assent, to wind up by saying, "Never fear, Casaubon! +Depend upon it, young Ladislaw will do you credit. Depend upon it, +I have put my finger on the right thing." And Mr. Casaubon shrank +nervously from communicating on the subject with Sir James Chettam, +between whom and himself there had never been any cordiality, +and who would immediately think of Dorothea without any mention of her. + +Poor Mr. Casaubon was distrustful of everybody's feeling towards him, +especially as a husband. To let any one suppose that he was jealous +would be to admit their (suspected) view of his disadvantages: +to let them know that he did not find marriage particularly blissful +would imply his conversion to their (probably) earlier disapproval. +It would be as bad as letting Carp, and Brasenose generally, +know how backward he was in organizing the matter for his +"Key to all Mythologies." All through his life Mr. Casaubon had been +trying not to admit even to himself the inward sores of self-doubt +and jealousy. And on the most delicate of all personal subjects, +the habit of proud suspicious reticence told doubly. + +Thus Mr. Casaubon remained proudly, bitterly silent. But he +had forbidden Will to come to Lowick Manor, and he was mentally +preparing other measures of frustration. + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +"C'est beaucoup que le jugement des hommes sur les actions humaines; +tot ou tard il devient efficace."--GUIZOT. + +Sir James Chettam could not look with any satisfaction on Mr. Brooke's +new courses; but it was easier to object than to hinder. +Sir James accounted for his having come in alone one day to lunch +with the Cadwalladers by saying-- + +"I can't talk to you as I want, before Celia: it might hurt her. +Indeed, it would not be right." + +"I know what you mean--the `Pioneer' at the Grange!" darted in +Mrs. Cadwallader, almost before the last word was off her friend's +tongue. "It is frightful--this taking to buying whistles and blowing +them in everybody's hearing. Lying in bed all day and playing +at dominoes, like poor Lord Plessy, would be more private and bearable." + +"I see they are beginning to attack our friend Brooke in the `Trumpet,'" +said the Rector, lounging back and smiling easily, as he would +have done if he had been attacked himself. "There are tremendous +sarcasms against a landlord not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, +who receives his own rents, and makes no returns." + +"I do wish Brooke would leave that off," said Sir James, with his +little frown of annoyance. + +"Is he really going to be put in nomination, though?" +said Mr. Cadwallader. "I saw Farebrother yesterday-- +he's Whiggish himself, hoists Brougham and Useful Knowledge; +that's the worst I know of him;--and he says that Brooke is +getting up a pretty strong party. Bulstrode, the banker, is his +foremost man. But he thinks Brooke would come off badly at a nomination." + +"Exactly," said Sir James, with earnestness. "I have been inquiring +into the thing, for I've never known anything about Middlemarch +politics before--the county being my business. What Brooke trusts to, +is that they are going to turn out Oliver because he is a Peelite. +But Hawley tells me that if they send up a Whig at all it is sure to +be Bagster, one of those candidates who come from heaven knows where, +but dead against Ministers, and an experienced Parliamentary man. +Hawley's rather rough: he forgot that he was speaking to me. +He said if Brooke wanted a pelting, he could get it cheaper than +by going to the hustings." + +"I warned you all of it," said Mrs. Cadwallader, waving her +hands outward. "I said to Humphrey long ago, Mr. Brooke is going +to make a splash in the mud. And now he has done it." + +"Well, he might have taken it into his head to marry," said the Rector. +"That would have been a graver mess than a little flirtation +with politics." + +"He may do that afterwards," said Mrs. Cadwallader--"when he has +come out on the other side of the mud with an ague." + +"What I care for most is his own dignity," said Sir James. +"Of course I care the more because of the family. But he's getting +on in life now, and I don't like to think of his exposing himself. +They will be raking up everything against him." + +"I suppose it's no use trying any persuasion," said the Rector. +"There's such an odd mixture of obstinacy and changeableness in Brooke. +Have you tried him on the subject?" + +"Well, no," said Sir James; "I feel a delicacy in appearing to dictate. +But I have been talking to this young Ladislaw that Brooke is +making a factotum of. Ladislaw seems clever enough for anything. +I thought it as well to hear what he had to say; and he is against +Brooke's standing this time. I think he'll turn him round: +I think the nomination may be staved off." + +"I know," said Mrs. Cadwallader, nodding. "The independent member +hasn't got his speeches well enough by heart." + +"But this Ladislaw--there again is a vexatious business," +said Sir James. "We have had him two or three times to dine at +the Hall (you have met him, by the bye) as Brooke's guest and a +relation of Casaubon's, thinking he was only on a flying visit. +And now I find he's in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch as the editor +of the `Pioneer.' There are stories going about him as a quill-driving +alien, a foreign emissary, and what not." + +"Casaubon won't like that," said the Rector. + +"There IS some foreign blood in Ladislaw," returned Sir James. +"I hope he won't go into extreme opinions and carry Brooke on." + +"Oh, he's a dangerous young sprig, that Mr. Ladislaw," +said Mrs. Cadwallader, "with his opera songs and his ready tongue. +A sort of Byronic hero--an amorous conspirator, it strikes me. +And Thomas Aquinas is not fond of him. I could see that, the day +the picture was brought." + +"I don't like to begin on the subject with Casaubon," said Sir James. +"He has more right to interfere than I. But it's a disagreeable +affair all round. What a character for anybody with decent +connections to show himself in!--one of those newspaper fellows! +You have only to look at Keck, who manages the `Trumpet.' +I saw him the other day with Hawley. His writing is sound enough, +I believe, but he's such a low fellow, that I wished he had been on +the wrong side." + +"What can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers?" +said the Rector. "I don't suppose you could get a high style of man +anywhere to be writing up interests he doesn't really care about, +and for pay that hardly keeps him in at elbows." + +"Exactly: that makes it so annoying that Brooke should have put +a man who has a sort of connection with the family in a position +of that kind. For my part, I think Ladislaw is rather a fool +for accepting." + +"It is Aquinas's fault," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Why didn't he use +his interest to get Ladislaw made an attache or sent to India? +That is how families get rid of troublesome sprigs." + +"There is no knowing to what lengths the mischief may go," +said Sir James, anxiously. "But if Casaubon says nothing, what can +I do?" + +"Oh my dear Sir James," said the Rector, "don't let us make too +much of all this. It is likely enough to end in mere smoke. +After a month or two Brooke and this Master Ladislaw will get +tired of each other; Ladislaw will take wing; Brooke will sell +the `Pioneer,' and everything will settle down again as usual." + +"There is one good chance--that he will not like to feel his money +oozing away," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "If I knew the items of election +expenses I could scare him. It's no use plying him with wide words +like Expenditure: I wouldn't talk of phlebotomy, I would empty +a pot of leeches upon him. What we good stingy people don't like, +is having our sixpences sucked away from us." + +"And he will not like having things raked up against him," +said Sir James. "There is the management of his estate. they have +begun upon that already. And it really is painful for me to see. +It is a nuisance under one's very nose. I do think one is bound +to do the best for one's land and tenants, especially in these +hard times." + +"Perhaps the `Trumpet' may rouse him to make a change, and some good +may come of it all," said the Rector. "I know I should be glad. +I should hear less grumbling when my tithe is paid. I don't know +what I should do if there were not a modus in Tipton." + +"I want him to have a proper man to look after things--I want him +to take on Garth again," said Sir James. "He got rid of Garth +twelve years ago, and everything has been going wrong since. +I think of getting Garth to manage for me--he has made such a capital +plan for my buildings; and Lovegood is hardly up to the mark. +But Garth would not undertake the Tipton estate again unless Brooke +left it entirely to him." + +"In the right of it too," said the Rector. "Garth is an +independent fellow: an original, simple-minded fellow. One day, +when he was doing some valuation for me, he told me point-blank +that clergymen seldom understood anything about business, and did +mischief when they meddled; but he said it as quietly and respectfully +as if he had been talking to me about sailors. He would make +a different parish of Tipton, if Brooke would let him manage. +I wish, by the help of the `Trumpet,' you could bring that round." + +"If Dorothea had kept near her uncle, there would have been +some chance," said Sir James. "She might have got some power +over him in time, and she was always uneasy about the estate. +She had wonderfully good notions about such things. But now +Casaubon takes her up entirely. Celia complains a good deal. +We can hardly get her to dine with us, since he had that fit." +Sir James ended with a look of pitying disgust, and Mrs. Cadwallader +shrugged her shoulders as much as to say that SHE was not likely +to see anything new in that direction. + +"Poor Casaubon!" the Rector said. "That was a nasty attack. +I thought he looked shattered the other day at the Archdeacon's." + +"In point of fact," resumed Sir James, not choosing to dwell on +"fits," "Brooke doesn't mean badly by his tenants or any one else, +but he has got that way of paring and clipping at expenses." + +"Come, that's a blessing," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "That helps him +to find himself in a morning. He may not know his own opinions, +but he does know his own pocket." + +"I don't believe a man is in pocket by stinginess on his land," +said Sir James. + +"Oh, stinginess may be abused like other virtues: it will not do +to keep one's own pigs lean," said Mrs. Cadwallader, who had risen +to look out of the window. "But talk of an independent politician +and he will appear." + +"What! Brooke?" said her husband. + +"Yes. Now, you ply him with the `Trumpet,' Humphrey; and I will +put the leeches on him. What will you do, Sir James?" + +"The fact is, I don't like to begin about it with Brooke, in our +mutual position; the whole thing is so unpleasant. I do wish people +would behave like gentlemen," said the good baronet, feeling that +this was a simple and comprehensive programme for social well-being. + +"Here you all are, eh?" said Mr. Brooke, shuffling round and +shaking hands. "I was going up to the Hall by-and-by, Chettam. +But it's pleasant to find everybody, you know. Well, what do +you think of things?--going on a little fast! It was true enough, +what Lafitte said--`Since yesterday, a century has passed away:'-- +they're in the next century, you know, on the other side of the water. +Going on faster than we are." + +"Why, yes," said the Rector, taking up the newspaper. "Here is +the `Trumpet' accusing you of lagging behind--did you see?" + +"Eh? no," said Mr. Brooke, dropping his gloves into his hat +and hastily adjusting his eye-glass. But Mr. Cadwallader kept +the paper in his hand, saying, with a smile in his eyes-- + +"Look here! all this is about a landlord not a hundred +miles from Middlemarch, who receives his own rents. +They say he is the most retrogressive man in the county. +I think you must have taught them that word in the `Pioneer.'" + +"Oh, that is Keek--an illiterate fellow, you know. Retrogressive, now! +Come, that's capital. He thinks it means destructive: they want +to make me out a destructive, you know," said Mr. Brooke, with +that cheerfulness which is usually sustained by an adversary's ignorance. + +"I think he knows the meaning of the word. Here is a sharp stroke +or two. If we had to describe a man who is retrogressive in the +most evil sense of the word--we should say, he is one who would +dub himself a reformer of our constitution, while every interest +for which he is immediately responsible is going to decay: +a philanthropist who cannot bear one rogue to be hanged, but does +not mind five honest tenants being half-starved: a man who shrieks +at corruption, and keeps his farms at rack-rent: who roars himself +red at rotten boroughs, and does not mind if every field on his farms +has a rotten gate: a man very open-hearted to Leeds and Manchester, +no doubt; he would give any number of representatives who will pay +for their seats out of their own pockets: what he objects to giving, +is a little return on rent-days to help a tenant to buy stock, +or an outlay on repairs to keep the weather out at a tenant's barn-door +or make his house look a little less like an Irish cottier's. But +we all know the wag's definition of a philanthropist: a man whose +charity increases directly as the square of the distance. And so on. +All the rest is to show what sort of legislator a philanthropist +is likely to make," ended the Rector, throwing down the paper, +and clasping his hands at the back of his head, while he looked at +Mr. Brooke with an air of amused neutrality. + +"Come, that's rather good, you know," said Mr. Brooke, taking up +the paper and trying to bear the attack as easily as his neighbor did, +but coloring and smiling rather nervously; "that about roaring himself +red at rotten boroughs--I never made a speech about rotten boroughs +in my life. And as to roaring myself red and that kind of thing-- +these men never understand what is good satire. Satire, you know, +should be true up to a certain point. I recollect they said that in +`The Edinburgh' somewhere--it must be true up to a certain point." + +"Well, that is really a hit about the gates," said Sir James, +anxious to tread carefully. "Dagley complained to me the other day +that he hadn't got a decent gate on his farm. Garth has invented +a new pattern of gate--I wish you would try it. One ought to use +some of one's timber in that way." + +"You go in for fancy farming, you know, Chettam," said Mr. Brooke, +appearing to glance over the columns of the "Trumpet." +"That's your hobby, and you don't mind the expense." + +"I thought the most expensive hobby in the world was standing +for Parliament," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "They said the last +unsuccessful candidate at Middlemarch--Giles, wasn't his name?-- +spent ten thousand pounds and failed because he did not bribe enough. +What a bitter reflection for a man!" + +"Somebody was saying," said the Rector, laughingly, "that East +Retford was nothing to Middlemarch, for bribery." + +"Nothing of the kind," said Mr. Brooke. "The Tories bribe, +you know: Hawley and his set bribe with treating, hot codlings, +and that sort of thing; and they bring the voters drunk to the poll. +But they are not going to have it their own way in future-- +not in future, you know. Middlemarch is a little backward, I admit-- +the freemen are a little backward. But we shall educate them-- +we shall bring them on, you know. The best people there are on +our side." + +"Hawley says you have men on your side who will do you harm," +remarked Sir James. "He says Bulstrode the banker will do you harm." + +"And that if you got pelted," interposed Mrs. Cadwallader, "half the +rotten eggs would mean hatred of your committee-man. Good heavens! +Think what it must be to be pelted for wrong opinions. And I seem +to remember a story of a man they pretended to chair and let him +fall into a dust-heap on purpose!" + +"Pelting is nothing to their finding holes in one's coat," +said the Rector. "I confess that's what I should be afraid of, +if we parsons had to stand at the hustings for preferment. +I should be afraid of their reckoning up all my fishing days. +Upon my word, I think the truth is the hardest missile one can be +pelted with." + +"The fact is," said Sir James, "if a man goes into public life he +must be prepared for the consequences. He must make himself proof +against calumny." + +"My dear Chettam, that is all very fine, you know," said Mr. Brooke. +"But how will you make yourself proof against calumny? You should +read history--look at ostracism, persecution, martyrdom, and that +kind of thing. They always happen to the best men, you know. +But what is that in Horace?--'fiat justitia, ruat . . . +something or other." + +"Exactly," said Sir James, with a little more heat than usual. +"What I mean by being proof against calumny is being able to point +to the fact as a contradiction." + +"And it is not martyrdom to pay bills that one has run into one's self," +said Mrs. Cadwallader. + +But it was Sir James's evident annoyance that most stirred Mr. Brooke. +"Well, you know, Chettam," he said, rising, taking up his hat +and leaning on his stick, "you and I have a different system. +You are all for outlay with your farms. I don't want to make out that +my system is good under all circumstances--under all circumstances, +you know." + +"There ought to be a new valuation made from time to time," +said Sir James. "Returns are very well occasionally, but I +like a fair valuation. What do you say, Cadwallader?" + +"I agree with you. If I were Brooke, I would choke the `Trumpet' +at once by getting Garth to make a new valuation of the farms, +and giving him carte blanche about gates and repairs: +that's my view of the political situation," said the Rector, +broadening himself by sticking his thumbs in his armholes, +and laughing towards Mr. Brooke. + +"That's a showy sort of thing to do, you know," said Mr. Brooke. +"But I should like you to tell me of another landlord who has +distressed his tenants for arrears as little as I have. I let +the old tenants stay on. I'm uncommonly easy, let me tell you, +uncommonly easy. I have my own ideas, and I take my stand on them, +you know. A man who does that is always charged with eccentricity, +inconsistency, and that kind of thing. When I change my line of action, +I shall follow my own ideas." + +After that, Mr. Brooke remembered that there was a packet which he +had omitted to send off from the Grange, and he bade everybody +hurriedly good-by. + +"I didn't want to take a liberty with Brooke," said Sir James; +"I see he is nettled. But as to what he says about old tenants, +in point of fact no new tenant would take the farms on the +present terms." + +"I have a notion that he will be brought round in time," +said the Rector. "But you were pulling one way, Elinor, and we +were pulling another. You wanted to frighten him away from expense, +and we want to frighten him into it. Better let him try to be +popular and see that his character as a landlord stands in his way. +I don't think it signifies two straws about the `Pioneer,' +or Ladislaw, or Brooke's speechifying to the Middlemarchers. +But it does signify about the parishioners in Tipton being comfortable." + +"Excuse me, it is you two who are on the wrong tack," +said Mrs. Cadwallader. "You should have proved to him that he loses +money by bad management, and then we should all have pulled together. +If you put him a-horseback on politics, I warn you of the consequences. +It was all very well to ride on sticks at home and call them ideas." + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + + "If, as I have, you also doe, + Vertue attired in woman see, + And dare love that, and say so too, + And forget the He and She; + + And if this love, though placed so, + From prophane men you hide, + Which will no faith on this bestow, + Or, if they doe, deride: + + Then you have done a braver thing + Than all the Worthies did, + And a braver thence will spring, + Which is, to keep that hid." + --DR. DONNE. + +Sir James Chettam's mind was not fruitful ill devices, but his growing +anxiety to "act on Brooke," once brought close to his constant +belief in Dorothea's capacity for influence, became formative, +and issued in a little plan; namely, to plead Celia's indisposition +as a reason for fetching Dorothea by herself to the Hall, and to +leave her at the Grange with the carriage on the way, after making +her fully aware of the situation concerning the management of the estate. + +In this way it happened that one day near four o'clock, when +Mr. Brooke and Ladislaw were seated in the library, the door +opened and Mrs. Casaubon was announced. + +Will, the moment before, had been low in the depths of boredom, and, +obliged to help Mr. Brooke in arranging "documents" about hanging +sheep-stealers, was exemplifying the power our minds have of riding +several horses at once by inwardly arranging measures towards getting +a lodging for himself in Middlemarch and cutting short his constant +residence at the Grange; while there flitted through all these steadier +images a tickling vision of a sheep-stealing epic written with +Homeric particularity. When Mrs. Casaubon was announced he started +up as from an electric shock, and felt a tingling at his finger-ends. +Any one observing him would have seen a change in his complexion, +in the adjustment of his facial muscles, in the vividness of his glance, +which might have made them imagine that every molecule in his +body had passed the message of a magic touch. And so it had. +For effective magic is transcendent nature; and who shall measure +the subtlety of those touches which convey the quality of soul +as well as body, and make a man's passion for one woman differ from +his passion for another as joy in the morning light over valley and +river and white mountain-top differs from joy among Chinese lanterns +and glass panels? Will, too, was made of very impressible stuff. +The bow of a violin drawn near him cleverly, would at one stroke +change the aspect of the world for him, and his point of view shifted-- +as easily as his mood. Dorothea's entrance was the freshness of morning. + +"Well, my dear, this is pleasant, now," said Mr. Brooke, meeting and +kissing her. "You have left Casaubon with his books, I suppose. +That's right. We must not have you getting too learned for a woman, +you know." + +"There is no fear of that, uncle," said Dorothea, turning to Will +and shaking hands with open cheerfulness, while she made no other form +of greeting, but went on answering her uncle. "I am very slow. +When I want to be busy with books, I am often playing truant among +my thoughts. I find it is not so easy to be learned as to plan cottages." + +She seated herself beside her uncle opposite to Will, and was evidently +preoccupied with something that made her almost unmindful of him. +He was ridiculously disappointed, as if he had imagined that her +coming had anything to do with him. + +"Why, yes, my dear, it was quite your hobby to draw plans. +But it was good to break that off a little. Hobbies are apt +to ran away with us, you know; it doesn't do to be run away with. +We must keep the reins. I have never let myself be run away with; +I always pulled up. That is what I tell Ladislaw. He and I +are alike, you know: he likes to go into everything. We are +working at capital punishment. We shall do a great deal together, +Ladislaw and I." + +"Yes," said Dorothea, with characteristic directness, "Sir James has +been telling me that he is in hope of seeing a great change made soon +in your management of the estate--that you are thinking of having +the farms valued, and repairs made, and the cottages improved, +so that Tipton may look quite another place. Oh, how happy!"-- +she went on, clasping her hands, with a return to that more childlike +impetuous manner, which had been subdued since her marriage. +"If I were at home still, I should take to riding again, that I might +go about with you and see all that! And you are going to engage +Mr. Garth, who praised my cottages, Sir James says." + +"Chettam is a little hasty, my dear," said Mr. Brooke, coloring slightly; +"a little hasty, you know. I never said I should do anything +of the kind. I never said I should NOT do it, you know." + +"He only feels confident that you will do it," said Dorothea, +in a voice as clear and unhesitating as that of a young chorister +chanting a credo, "because you mean to enter Parliament as a member +who cares for the improvement of the people, and one of the first +things to be made better is the state of the land and the laborers. +Think of Kit Downes, uncle, who lives with his wife and seven children +in a house with one sitting room and one bedroom hardly larger than +this table!--and those poor Dagleys, in their tumble-down farmhouse, +where they live in the back kitchen and leave the other rooms to +the rats! That is one reason why I did not like the pictures here, +dear uncle--which you think me stupid about. I used to come from the +village with all that dirt and coarse ugliness like a pain within me, +and the simpering pictures in the drawing-room seemed to me like a +wicked attempt to find delight in what is false, while we don't +mind how hard the truth is for the neighbors outside our walls. +I think we have no right to come forward and urge wider changes +for good, until we have tried to alter the evils which lie under +our own hands." + +Dorothea had gathered emotion as she went on, and had forgotten +everything except the relief of pouring forth her feelings, unchecked: +an experience once habitual with her, but hardly ever present since +her marriage, which had been a perpetual struggle of energy with fear. +For the moment, Will's admiration was accompanied with a chilling +sense of remoteness. A man is seldom ashamed of feeling that he +cannot love a woman so well when he sees a certain greatness in her: +nature having intended greatness for men. But nature has sometimes +made sad oversights in carrying out her intention; as in the case +of good Mr. Brooke, whose masculine consciousness was at this moment +in rather a stammering condition under the eloquence of his niece. +He could not immediately find any other mode of expressing himself +than that of rising, fixing his eye-glass, and fingering the papers +before him. At last he said-- + +"There is something in what you say, my dear, something in +what you say--but not everything--eh, Ladislaw? You and I +don't like our pictures and statues being found fault with. +Young ladies are a little ardent, you know--a little one-sided, +my dear. Fine art, poetry, that kind of thing, elevates a nation-- +emollit mores--you understand a little Latin now. But--eh? what?" + +These interrogatives were addressed to the footman who had +come in to say that the keeper had found one of Dagley's +boys with a leveret in his hand just killed. + +"I'll come, I'll come. I shall let him off easily, you know," +said Mr. Brooke aside to Dorothea, shuffling away very cheerfully. + +"I hope you feel how right this change is that I--that Sir James +wishes for," said Dorothea to Will, as soon as her uncle was gone. + +"I do, now I have heard you speak about it. I shall not forget what +you have said. But can you think of something else at this moment? +I may not have another opportunity of speaking to you about what +has occurred," said Will, rising with a movement of impatience, +and holding the back of his chair with both hands. + +"Pray tell me what it is," said Dorothea, anxiously, also rising +and going to the open window, where Monk was looking in, +panting and wagging his tail. She leaned her back against the +window-frame, and laid her hand on the dog's head; for though, +as we know, she was not fond of pets that must be held in the hands +or trodden on, she was always attentive to the feelings of dogs, +and very polite if she had to decline their advances. + +Will followed her only with his eyes and said, "I presume you know +that Mr. Casaubon has forbidden me to go to his house." + +"No, I did not," said Dorothea, after a moment's pause. She was +evidently much moved. "I am very, very sorry," she added, mournfully. +She was thinking of what Will had no knowledge of--the conversation +between her and her husband in the darkness; and she was anew smitten +with hopelessness that she could influence Mr. Casaubon's action. +But the marked expression of her sorrow convinced Will that it +was not all given to him personally, and that Dorothea had not been +visited by the idea that Mr. Casaubon's dislike and jealousy of him +turned upon herself. He felt an odd mixture of delight and vexation: +of delight that he could dwell and be cherished in her thought as in +a pure home, without suspicion and without stint--of vexation because +he was of too little account with her, was not formidable enough, +was treated with an unhesitating benevolence which did not flatter him. +But his dread of any change in Dorothea was stronger than his discontent, +and he began to speak again in a tone of mere explanation. + +"Mr. Casaubon's reason is, his displeasure at my taking a position +here which he considers unsuited to my rank as his cousin. +I have told him that I cannot give way on this point. It is a little +too hard on me to expect that my course in life is to be hampered +by prejudices which I think ridiculous. Obligation may be stretched +till it is no better than a brand of slavery stamped on us when we +were too young to know its meaning. I would not have accepted +the position if I had not meant to make it useful and honorable. +I am not bound to regard family dignity in any other light." + +Dorothea felt wretched. She thought her husband altogether +in the wrong, on more grounds than Will had mentioned. + +"It is better for us not to speak on the subject," she said, +with a tremulousness not common in her voice, "since you and +Mr. Casaubon disagree. You intend to remain?" She was looking +out on the lawn, with melancholy meditation. + +"Yes; but I shall hardly ever see you now," said Will, in a tone +of almost boyish complaint. + +"No," said Dorothea, turning her eyes full upon him, "hardly ever. +But I shall hear of you. I shall know what you are doing for +my uncle." + +"I shall know hardly anything about you," said Will. "No one +will tell me anything." + +"Oh, my life is very simple," said Dorothea, her lips curling +with an exquisite smile, which irradiated her melancholy. +"I am always at Lowick." + +"That is a dreadful imprisonment," said Will, impetuously. + +"No, don't think that," said Dorothea. "I have no longings." + +He did not speak, but she replied to some change in his expression. +"I mean, for myself. Except that I should like not to have so much +more than my share without doing anything for others. But I have +a belief of my own, and it comforts me." + +"What is that?" said Will, rather jealous of the belief. + +"That by desiring what is perfectly good, even when we don't +quite know what it is and cannot do what we would, we are part +of the divine power against evil--widening the skirts of light +and making the struggle with darkness narrower." + +"That is a beautiful mysticism--it is a--" + +"Please not to call it by any name," said Dorothea, putting out +her hands entreatingly. "You will say it is Persian, or something +else geographical. It is my life. I have found it out, and cannot +part with it. I have always been finding out my religion since I +was a little girl. I used to pray so much--now I hardly ever pray. +I try not to have desires merely for myself, because they may not +be good for others, and I have too much already. I only told you, +that you might know quite well how my days go at Lowick." + +"God bless you for telling me!" said Will, ardently, and rather +wondering at himself. They were looking at each other like two +fond children who were talking confidentially of birds. + +"What is YOUR religion?" said Dorothea. "I mean--not what you +know about religion, but the belief that helps you most?" + +"To love what is good and beautiful when I see it," said Will. +"But I am a rebel: I don't feel bound, as you do, to submit to what I +don't like." + +"But if you like what is good, that comes to the same thing," +said Dorothea, smiling. + +"Now you are subtle," said Will. + +"Yes; Mr. Casaubon often says I am too subtle. I don't feel as if I +were subtle," said Dorothea, playfully. "But how long my uncle is! +I must go and look for him. I must really go on to the Hall. +Celia is expecting me." + +Will offered to tell Mr. Brooke, who presently came and said +that he would step into the carriage and go with Dorothea as far +as Dagley's, to speak about the small delinquent who had been caught +with the Ieveret. Dorothea renewed the subject of the estate +as they drove along, but Mr. Brooke, not being taken unawares, +got the talk under his own control. + +"Chettam, now," he replied; "he finds fault with me, my dear; +but I should not preserve my game if it were not for Chettam, +and he can't say that that expense is for the sake of the tenants, +you know. It's a little against my feeling:--poaching, now, if you +come to look into it--I have often thought of getting up the subject. +Not long ago, Flavell, the Methodist preacher, was brought up for +knocking down a hare that came across his path when he and his wife +were walking out together. He was pretty quick, and knocked it on +the neck." + +"That was very brutal, I think," said Dorothea + +"Well, now, it seemed rather black to me, I confess, in a +Methodist preacher, you know. And Johnson said, `You may judge +what a hypoCRITE he is.' And upon my word, I thought +Flavell looked very little like `the highest style of man'-- +as somebody calls the Christian--Young, the poet Young, I think-- +you know Young? Well, now, Flavell in his shabby black gaiters, +pleading that he thought the Lord had sent him and his wife a good dinner, +and he had a right to knock it down, though not a mighty hunter +before the Lord, as Nimrod was--I assure you it was rather comic: +Fielding would have made something of it--or Scott, now--Scott might +have worked it up. But really, when I came to think of it, +I couldn't help liking that the fellow should have a bit of hare +to say grace over. It's all a matter of prejudice--prejudice with +the law on its side, you know--about the stick and the gaiters, +and so on. However, it doesn't do to reason about things; and law +is law. But I got Johnson to be quiet, and I hushed the matter up. +I doubt whether Chettam would not have been more severe, and yet +he comes down on me as if I were the hardest man in the county. +But here we are at Dagley's." + +Mr. Brooke got down at a farmyard-gate, and Dorothea drove on. +It is wonderful how much uglier things will look when we only suspect +that we are blamed for them. Even our own persons in the glass +are apt to change their aspect for us after we have heard some frank +remark on their less admirable points; and on the other hand it +is astonishing how pleasantly conscience takes our encroachments +on those who never complain or have nobody to complain for them. +Dagley's homestead never before looked so dismal to Mr. Brooke as it +did today, with his mind thus sore about the fault-finding of the +"Trumpet," echoed by Sir James. + +It is true that an observer, under that softening influence of +the fine arts which makes other people's hardships picturesque, +might have been delighted with this homestead called Freeman's End: +the old house had dormer-windows in the dark red roof, two of +the chimneys were choked with ivy, the large porch was blocked +up with bundles of sticks, and half the windows were closed +with gray worm-eaten shutters about which the jasmine-boughs grew +in wild luxuriance; the mouldering garden wall with hollyhocks +peeping over it was a perfect study of highly mingled subdued color, +and there was an aged goat (kept doubtless on interesting +superstitious grounds) lying against the open back-kitchen door. +The mossy thatch of the cow-shed, the broken gray barn-doors, +the pauper laborers in ragged breeches who had nearly finished +unloading a wagon of corn into the barn ready for early thrashing; +the scanty dairy of cows being tethered for milking and leaving +one half of the shed in brown emptiness; the very pigs and white +ducks seeming to wander about the uneven neglected yard as if in +low spirits from feeding on a too meagre quality of rinsings,-- +all these objects under the quiet light of a sky marbled with high +clouds would have made a sort of picture which we have all paused +over as a "charming bit," touching other sensibilities than those +which are stirred by the depression of the agricultural interest, +with the sad lack of farming capital, as seen constantly in the +newspapers of that time. But these troublesome associations were +just now strongly present to Mr. Brooke, and spoiled the scene +for him. Mr. Dagley himself made a figure in the landscape, +carrying a pitchfork and wearing his milking-hat--a very old beaver +flattened in front. His coat and breeches were the best he had, +and he would not have been wearing them on this weekday occasion +if he had not been to market and returned later than usual, +having given himself the rare treat of dining at the public table +of the Blue Bull. How he came to fall into this extravagance +would perhaps be matter of wonderment to himself on the morrow; +but before dinner something in the state of the country, a slight +pause in the harvest before the Far Dips were cut, the stories about +the new King and the numerous handbills on the walls, had seemed +to warrant a little recklessness. It was a maxim about Middlemarch, +and regarded as self-evident, that good meat should have good drink, +which last Dagley interpreted as plenty of table ale well followed +up by rum-and-water. These liquors have so far truth in them +that they were not false enough to make poor Dagley seem merry: +they only made his discontent less tongue-tied than usual. +He had also taken too much in the shape of muddy political talk, +a stimulant dangerously disturbing to his farming conservatism, +which consisted in holding that whatever is, is bad, and any change +is likely to be worse. He was flushed, and his eyes had a decidedly +quarrelsome stare as he stood still grasping his pitchfork, +while the landlord approached with his easy shuffling walk, +one hand in his trouser-pocket and the other swinging round a thin +walking-stick. + +"Dagley, my good fellow," began Mr. Brooke, conscious that he +was going to be very friendly about the boy. + +"Oh, ay, I'm a good feller, am I? Thank ye, sir, thank ye," +said Dagley, with a loud snarling irony which made Fag the sheep-dog +stir from his seat and prick his ears; but seeing Monk enter +the yard after some outside loitering, Fag seated himself again +in an attitude of observation. "I'm glad to hear I'm a good feller." + +Mr. Brooke reflected that it was market-day, and that his worthy +tenant had probably been dining, but saw no reason why he should +not go on, since he could take the precaution of repeating what he +had to say to Mrs. Dagley. + +"Your little lad Jacob has been caught killing a leveret, Dagley: +I have told Johnson to lock him up in the empty stable an hour +or two, just to frighten him, you know. But he will be brought +home by-and-by, before night: and you'll just look after him, +will you, and give him a reprimand, you know?" + +"No, I woon't: I'll be dee'd if I'll leather my boy to please +you or anybody else, not if you was twenty landlords istid o' +one, and that a bad un." + +Dagley's words were loud enough to summon his wife to the +back-kitchen door--the only entrance ever used, and one always +open except in bad weather--and Mr. Brooke, saying soothingly, +"Well, well, I'll speak to your wife--I didn't mean beating, you know," +turned to walk to the house. But Dagley, only the more inclined +to "have his say" with a gentleman who walked away from him, +followed at once, with Fag slouching at his heels and sullenly +evading some small and probably charitable advances on the part of Monk. + +"How do you do, Mrs. Dagley?" said Mr. Brooke, making some haste. +"I came to tell you about your boy: I don't want you to give +him the stick, you know." He was careful to speak quite plainly +this time. + +Overworked Mrs. Dagley--a thin, worn woman, from whose life +pleasure had so entirely vanished that she had not even any Sunday +clothes which could give her satisfaction in preparing for church-- +had already had a misunderstanding with her husband since he +had come home, and was in low spirits, expecting the worst. +But her husband was beforehand in answering. + +"No, nor he woon't hev the stick, whether you want it or no," +pursued Dagley, throwing out his voice, as if he wanted it to hit hard. +"You've got no call to come an' talk about sticks o' these primises, +as you woon't give a stick tow'rt mending. Go to Middlemarch to ax +for YOUR charrickter." + +"You'd far better hold your tongue, Dagley," said the wife, +"and not kick your own trough over. When a man as is father +of a family has been an' spent money at market and made himself +the worse for liquor, he's done enough mischief for one day. +But I should like to know what my boy's done, sir." + +"Niver do you mind what he's done," said Dagley, more fiercely, +"it's my business to speak, an' not yourn. An' I wull speak, too. +I'll hev my say--supper or no. An' what I say is, as I've lived upo' +your ground from my father and grandfather afore me, an' hev dropped +our money into't, an' me an' my children might lie an' rot on +the ground for top-dressin' as we can't find the money to buy, +if the King wasn't to put a stop." + +"My good fellow, you're drunk, you know," said Mr. Brooke, +confidentially but not judiciously. "Another day, another day," +he added, turning as if to go. + +But Dagley immediately fronted him, and Fag at his heels growled low, +as his master's voice grew louder and more insulting, while Monk +also drew close in silent dignified watch. The laborers on the wagon +were pausing to listen, and it seemed wiser to be quite passive +than to attempt a ridiculous flight pursued by a bawling man. + +"I'm no more drunk nor you are, nor so much," said Dagley. +"I can carry my liquor, an' I know what I meean. An' I meean +as the King 'ull put a stop to 't, for them say it as knows it, +as there's to be a Rinform, and them landlords as never done +the right thing by their tenants 'ull be treated i' that way as +they'll hev to scuttle off. An' there's them i' Middlemarch knows +what the Rinform is--an' as knows who'll hev to scuttle. Says they, +`I know who YOUR landlord is.' An' says I, `I hope you're +the better for knowin' him, I arn't.' Says they, `He's a close-fisted un.' +`Ay ay,' says I. `He's a man for the Rinform,' says they. +That's what they says. An' I made out what the Rinform were-- +an' it were to send you an' your likes a-scuttlin' +an' wi' pretty strong-smellin' things too. An' you may do as you +like now, for I'm none afeard on you. An' you'd better let +my boy aloan, an' look to yoursen, afore the Rinform has got upo' +your back. That's what I'n got to say," concluded Mr. Dagley, +striking his fork into the ground with a firmness which proved +inconvenient as he tried to draw it up again. + +At this last action Monk began to bark loudly, and it was a moment +for Mr. Brooke to escape. He walked out of the yard as quickly +as he could, in some amazement at the novelty of his situation. +He had never been insulted on his own land before, and had been inclined +to regard himself as a general favorite (we are all apt to do so, +when we think of our own amiability more than of what other people +are likely to want of us). When he had quarrelled with Caleb Garth +twelve years before he had thought that the tenants would be pleased +at the landlord's taking everything into his own hands. + +Some who follow the narrative of his experience may wonder at the +midnight darkness of Mr. Dagley; but nothing was easier in those +times than for an hereditary farmer of his grade to be ignorant, +in spite somehow of having a rector in the twin parish who was a +gentleman to the backbone, a curate nearer at hand who preached more +learnedly than the rector, a landlord who had gone into everything, +especially fine art and social improvement, and all the lights +of Middlemarch only three miles off. As to the facility with +which mortals escape knowledge, try an average acquaintance in +the intellectual blaze of London, and consider what that eligible +person for a dinner-party would have been if he had learned scant +skill in "summing" from the parish-clerk of Tipton, and read +a chapter in the Bible with immense difficulty, because such names +as Isaiah or Apollos remained unmanageable after twice spelling. +Poor Dagley read a few verses sometimes on a Sunday evening, +and the world was at least not darker to him than it had been before. +Some things he knew thoroughly, namely, the slovenly habits of farming, +and the awkwardness of weather, stock and crops, at Freeman's End-- +so called apparently by way of sarcasm, to imply that a man was free +to quit it if he chose, but that there was no earthly "beyond" +open to him. + +CHAPTER XL. + + Wise in his daily work was he: + To fruits of diligence, + And not to faiths or polity, + He plied his utmost sense. + These perfect in their little parts, + Whose work is all their prize-- + Without them how could laws, or arts, + Or towered cities rise? + +In watching effects, if only of an electric battery, it is often +necessary to change our place and examine a particular mixture +or group at some distance from the point where the movement we +are interested in was set up. The group I am moving towards is +at Caleb Garth's breakfast-table in the large parlor where the +maps and desk were: father, mother, and five of the children. +Mary was just now at home waiting for a situation, while Christy, +the boy next to her, was getting cheap learning and cheap fare +in Scotland, having to his father's disappointment taken to books +instead of that sacred calling "business." + +The letters had come--nine costly letters, for which the postman had +been paid three and twopence, and Mr. Garth was forgetting his tea +and toast while he read his letters and laid them open one above +the other, sometimes swaying his head slowly, sometimes screwing up +his mouth in inward debate, but not forgetting to cut off a large +red seal unbroken, which Letty snatched up like an eager terrier. + +The talk among the rest went on unrestrainedly, for nothing disturbed +Caleb's absorption except shaking the table when he was writing. + +Two letters of the nine had been for Mary. After reading them, +she had passed them to her mother, and sat playing with her +tea-spoon absently, till with a sudden recollection she returned +to her sewing, which she had kept on her lap during breakfast. + +"Oh, don't sew, Mary!" said Ben, pulling her arm down. "Make me +a peacock with this bread-crumb." He had been kneading a small mass +for the purpose. + +"No, no, Mischief!" said Mary, good-humoredly, while she pricked +his hand lightly with her needle. "Try and mould it yourself: +you have seen me do it often enough. I must get this sewing done. +It is for Rosamond Vincy: she is to be married next week, and she +can't be married without this handkerchief." Mary ended merrily, +amused with the last notion. + +"Why can't she, Mary?" said Letty, seriously interested in this mystery, +and pushing her head so close to her sister that Mary now turned +the threatening needle towards Letty's nose. + +"Because this is one of a dozen, and without it there would +only be eleven," said Mary, with a grave air of explanation, +so that Letty sank back with a sense of knowledge. + +"Have you made up your mind, my dear?" said Mrs. Garth, laying the +letters down. + +"I shall go to the school at York," said Mary. "I am less unfit +to teach in a school than in a family. I like to teach classes best. +And, you see, I must teach: there is nothing else to be done." + +"Teaching seems to me the most delightful work in the world," +said Mrs. Garth, with a touch of rebuke in her tone. "I could +understand your objection to it if you had not knowledge enough, +Mary, or if you disliked children." + +"I suppose we never quite understand why another dislikes +what we like, mother," said Mary, rather curtly. "I am +not fond of a schoolroom: I like the outside world better. +It is a very inconvenient fault of mine." + +"It must be very stupid to be always in a girls' school," said Alfred. +"Such a set of nincompoops, like Mrs. Ballard's pupils walking two +and two." + +"And they have no games worth playing at," said Jim. "They can +neither throw nor leap. I don't wonder at Mary's not liking it." + +"What is that Mary doesn't like, eh?" said the father, looking over +his spectacles and pausing before he opened his next letter. + +"Being among a lot of nincompoop girls," said Alfred. + +"Is it the situation you had heard of, Mary?" said Caleb, gently, +looking at his daughter. + +"Yes, father: the school at York. I have determined to take it. +It is quite the best. Thirty-five pounds a-year, and extra pay for +teaching the smallest strummers at the piano." + +"Poor child! I wish she could stay at home with us, Susan," said Caleb, +looking plaintively at his wife. + +"Mary would not be happy without doing her duty," said Mrs. Garth, +magisterially, conscious of having done her own. + +"It wouldn't make me happy to do such a nasty duty as that," +said Alfred--at which Mary and her father laughed silently, +but Mrs. Garth said, gravely-- + +"Do find a fitter word than nasty, my dear Alfred, for everything +that you think disagreeable. And suppose that Mary could help you +to go to Mr. Hanmer's with the money she gets?" + +"That seems to me a great shame. But she's an old brick," said Alfred, +rising from his chair, and pulling Mary's head backward to kiss her. + +Mary colored and laughed, but could not conceal that the tears +were coming. Caleb, looking on over his spectacles, with the +angles of his eyebrows falling, had an expression of mingled +delight and sorrow as he returned to the opening of his letter; +and even Mrs. Garth, her lips curling with a calm contentment, +allowed that inappropriate language to pass without correction, +although Ben immediately took it up, and sang, "She's an old brick, +old brick, old brick!" to a cantering measure, which he beat out +with his fist on Mary's arm. + +But Mrs. Garth's eyes were now drawn towards her husband, +who was already deep in the letter he was reading. His face +had an expression of grave surprise, which alarmed her a little, +but he did not like to be questioned while he was reading, and she +remained anxiously watching till she saw him suddenly shaken by a +little joyous laugh as he turned back to the beginning of the letter, +and looking at her above his spectacles, said, in a low tone, +"What do you think, Susan?" + +She went and stood behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder, +while they read the letter together. It was from Sir James Chettam, +offering to Mr. Garth the management of the family estates at Freshitt +and elsewhere, and adding that Sir James had been requested by +Mr. Brooke of Tipton to ascertain whether Mr. Garth would be disposed +at the same time to resume the agency of the Tipton property. +The Baronet added in very obliging words that he himself was +particularly desirous of seeing the Freshitt and Tipton estates under +the same management, and he hoped to be able to show that the double +agency might be held on terms agreeable to Mr. Garth, whom he would +be glad to see at the Hall at twelve o'clock on the following day. + +"He writes handsomely, doesn't he, Susan?" said Caleb, turning his +eyes upward to his wife, who raised her hand from his shoulder +to his ear, while she rested her chin on his head. "Brooke didn't +like to ask me himself, I can see," he continued, laughing silently. + +"Here is an honor to your father, children," said Mrs. Garth, +looking round at the five pair of eyes, all fixed on the parents. +"He is asked to take a post again by those who dismissed him long ago. +That shows that he did his work well, so that they feel the want +of him." + +"Like Cincinnatus--hooray!" said Ben, riding on his chair, +with a pleasant confidence that discipline was relaxed. + +"Will they come to fetch him, mother?" said Letty, thinking of +the Mayor and Corporation in their robes. + +Mrs. Garth patted Letty's head and smiled, but seeing that her +husband was gathering up his letters and likely soon to be out +of reach in that sanctuary "business," she pressed his shoulder +and said emphatically-- + +"Now, mind you ask fair pay, Caleb." + +"Oh yes," said Caleb, in a deep voice of assent, as if it would be +unreasonable to suppose anything else of him. "It'll come to between +four and five hundred, the two together." Then with a little start +of remembrance he said, "Mary, write and give up that school. +Stay and help your mother. I'm as pleased as Punch, now I've +thought of that." + +No manner could have been less like that of Punch triumphant +than Caleb's, but his talents did not lie in finding phrases, +though he was very particular about his letter-writing, and regarded +his wife as a treasury of correct language. + +There was almost an uproar among the children now, and Mary held +up the cambric embroidery towards her mother entreatingly, that it +might be put out of reach while the boys dragged her into a dance. +Mrs. Garth, in placid joy, began to put the cups and plates together, +while Caleb pushing his chair from the table, as if he were going +to move to the desk, still sat holding his letters in his hand +and looking on the ground meditatively, stretching out the fingers +of his left hand, according to a mute language of his own. At last +he said-- + +"It's a thousand pities Christy didn't take to business, Susan. +I shall want help by-and-by. And Alfred must go off to the engineering-- +I've made up my mind to that." He fell into meditation and +finger-rhetoric again for a little while, and then continued: +"I shall make Brooke have new agreements with the tenants, and I shall +draw up a rotation of crops. And I'll lay a wager we can get fine +bricks out of the clay at Bott's corner. I must look into that: +it would cheapen the repairs. It's a fine bit of work, Susan! +A man without a family would be glad to do it for nothing." + +"Mind you don't, though," said his wife, lifting up her finger. + +"No, no; but it's a fine thing to come to a man when he's seen +into the nature of business: to have the chance of getting a bit +of the country into good fettle, as they say, and putting men into +the right way with their farming, and getting a bit of good contriving +and solid building done--that those who are living and those who come +after will be the better for. I'd sooner have it than a fortune. +I hold it the most honorable work that is." Here Caleb laid down +his letters, thrust his fingers between the buttons of his waistcoat, +and sat upright, but presently proceeded with some awe in his voice +and moving his head slowly aside--"It's a great gift of God, Susan." + +"That it is, Caleb," said his wife, with answering fervor. +"And it will be a blessing to your children to have had a father +who did such work: a father whose good work remains though his name +may be forgotten." She could not say any more to him then about +the pay. + +In the evening, when Caleb, rather tired with his day's work, +was seated in silence with his pocket-book open on his knee, +while Mrs. Garth and Mary were at their sewing, and Letty in a corner +was whispering a dialogue with her doll, Mr. Farebrother came up +the orchard walk, dividing the bright August lights and shadows +with the tufted grass and the apple-tree boughs. We know that he +was fond of his parishioners the Garths, and had thought Mary worth +mentioning to Lydgate. He used to the full the clergyman's privilege +of disregarding the Middlemarch discrimination of ranks, and always +told his mother that Mrs. Garth was more of a lady than any matron +in the town. Still, you see, he spent his evenings at the Vincys', +where the matron, though less of a lady, presided over a well-lit +drawing-room and whist. In those days human intercourse was not +determined solely by respect. But the Vicar did heartily respect +the Garths, and a visit from him was no surprise to that family. +Nevertheless he accounted for it even while he was shaking hands, +by saying, "I come as an envoy, Mrs. Garth: I have something +to say to you and Garth on behalf of Fred Vincy. The fact is, +poor fellow," he continued, as he seated himself and looked round +with his bright glance at the three who were listening to him, +"he has taken me into his confidence." + +Mary's heart beat rather quickly: she wondered how far Fred's +confidence had gone. + +"We haven't seen the lad for months," said Caleb. "I couldn't +think what was become of him." + +"He has been away on a visit," said the Vicar, "because home was +a little too hot for him, and Lydgate told his mother that the poor +fellow must not begin to study yet. But yesterday he came and poured +himself out to me. I am very glad he did, because I have seen him +grow up from a youngster of fourteen, and I am so much at home +in the house that the children are like nephews and nieces to me. +But it is a difficult case to advise upon. However, he has +asked me to come and tell you that he is going away, and that he +is so miserable about his debt to you, and his inability to pay, +that he can't bear to come himself even to bid you good by." + +"Tell him it doesn't signify a farthing," said Caleb, waving his hand. +"We've had the pinch and have got over it. And now I'm going to be +as rich as a Jew." + +"Which means," said Mrs. Garth, smiling at the Vicar, "that we +are going to have enough to bring up the boys well and to keep +Mary at home." + +"What is the treasure-trove?" said Mr. Farebrother. + +"I'm going to be agent for two estates, Freshitt and Tipton; +and perhaps for a pretty little bit of land in Lowick besides: +it's all the same family connection, and employment spreads like water +if it's once set going. It makes me very happy, Mr. Farebrother"-- +here Caleb threw back his head a little, and spread his arms on the elbows +of his chair--"that I've got an opportunity again with the letting +of the land, and carrying out a notion or two with improvements. +It's a most uncommonly cramping thing, as I've often told Susan, +to sit on horseback and look over the hedges at the wrong thing, +and not be able to put your hand to it to make it right. What people +do who go into politics I can't think: it drives me almost mad +to see mismanagement over only a few hundred acres." + +It was seldom that Caleb volunteered so long a speech, but his +happiness had the effect of mountain air: his eyes were bright, +and the words came without effort. + +"I congratulate you heartily, Garth," said the Vicar. "This is +the best sort of news I could have had to carry to Fred Vincy, +for he dwelt a good deal on the injury he had done you in causing +you to part with money--robbing you of it, he said--which you wanted +for other purposes. I wish Fred were not such an idle dog; he has +some very good points, and his father is a little hard upon him." + +"Where is he going?" said Mrs. Garth, rather coldly. + +"He means to try again for his degree, and he is going up to study +before term. I have advised him to do that. I don't urge him to +enter the Church--on the contrary. But if he will go and work so as +to pass, that will be some guarantee that he has energy and a will; +and he is quite at sea; he doesn't know what else to do. So far he +will please his father, and I have promised in the mean time to try +and reconcile Vincy to his son's adopting some other line of life. +Fred says frankly he is not fit for a clergyman, and I would do +anything I could to hinder a man from the fatal step of choosing +the wrong profession. He quoted to me what you said, Miss Garth-- +do you remember it?" (Mr. Farebrother used to say "Mary" instead +of "Miss Garth," but it was part of his delicacy to treat her +with the more deference because, according to Mrs. Vincy's phrase, +she worked for her bread.) + +Mary felt uncomfortable, but, determined to take the matter lightly, +answered at once, "I have said so many impertinent things to Fred-- +we are such old playfellows." + +"You said, according to him, that he would be one of those +ridiculous clergymen who help to make the whole clergy ridiculous. +Really, that was so cutting that I felt a little cut myself." + +Caleb laughed. "She gets her tongue from you, Susan," he said, +with some enjoyment. + +"Not its flippancy, father," said Mary, quickly, fearing that her +mother would be displeased. "It is rather too bad of Fred to repeat +my flippant speeches to Mr. Farebrother." + +"It was certainly a hasty speech, my dear," said Mrs. Garth, +with whom speaking evil of dignities was a high misdemeanor. +"We should not value our Vicar the less because there was a ridiculous +curate in the next parish." + +"There's something in what she says, though," said Caleb, not disposed +to have Mary's sharpness undervalued. "A bad workman of any sort +makes his fellows mistrusted. Things hang together," he added, +looking on the floor and moving his feet uneasily with a sense +that words were scantier than thoughts. + +"Clearly," said the Vicar, amused. "By being contemptible we set +men's minds, to the tune of contempt. I certainly agree with Miss +Garth's view of the matter, whether I am condemned by it or not. +But as to Fred Vincy, it is only fair he should be excused a little: +old Featherstone's delusive behavior did help to spoil him. +There was something quite diabolical in not leaving him a farthing +after all. But Fred has the good taste not to dwell on that. +And what he cares most about is having offended you, Mrs. Garth; +he supposes you will never think well of him again." + +"I have been disappointed in Fred," said Mrs. Garth, with decision. +"But I shall be ready to think well of him again when he gives me +good reason to do so." + +At this point Mary went out of the room, taking Letty with her. + +"Oh, we must forgive young people when they're sorry," said Caleb, +watching Mary close the door. "And as you say, Mr. Farebrother, +there was the very devil in that old man." + +Now Mary's gone out, I must tell you a thing--it's only known +to Susan and me, and you'll not tell it again. The old scoundrel +wanted Mary to burn one of the wills the very night he died, +when she was sitting up with him by herself, and he offered her +a sum of money that he had in the box by him if she would do it. +But Mary, you understand, could do no such thing--would not be handling +his iron chest, and so on. Now, you see, the will he wanted burnt +was this last, so that if Mary had done what he wanted, Fred Vincy +would have had ten thousand pounds. The old man did turn to him +at the last. That touches poor Mary close; she couldn't help it-- +she was in the right to do what she did, but she feels, as she says, +much as if she had knocked down somebody's property and broken it +against her will, when she was rightfully defending herself. I feel +with her, somehow, and if I could make any amends to the poor lad, +instead of bearing him a grudge for the harm he did us, I should +be glad to do it. Now, what is your opinion, sir? Susan doesn't +agree with me. She says--tell what you say, Susan." + +"Mary could not have acted otherwise, even if she had known what would +be the effect on Fred," said Mrs. Garth, pausing from her work, +and looking at Mr. Farebrother. + +"And she was quite ignorant of it. It seems to me, a loss which falls +on another because we have done right is not to lie upon our conscience." + +The Vicar did not answer immediately, and Caleb said, "It's the feeling. +The child feels in that way, and I feel with her. You don't mean +your horse to tread on a dog when you're backing out of the way; +but it goes through you, when it's done." + +"I am sure Mrs. Garth would agree with you there," said Mr. Farebrother, +who for some reason seemed more inclined to ruminate than to speak. +"One could hardly say that the feeling you mention about Fred +is wrong--or rather, mistaken--though no man ought to make a claim +on such feeling." + +"Well, well," said Caleb, "it's a secret. You will not tell Fred." + +"Certainly not. But I shall carry the other good news--that you +can afford the loss he caused you." + +Mr. Farebrother left the house soon after, and seeing Mary in the +orchard with Letty, went to say good-by to her. They made a pretty +picture in the western light which brought out the brightness of the +apples on the old scant-leaved boughs--Mary in her lavender gingham +and black ribbons holding a basket, while Letty in her well-worn +nankin picked up the fallen apples. If you want to know more +particularly how Mary looked, ten to one you will see a face like hers +in the crowded street to-morrow, if you are there on the watch: +she will not be among those daughters of Zion who are haughty, +and walk with stretched-out necks and wanton eyes, mincing as they go: +let all those pass, and fix your eyes on some small plump brownish +person of firm but quiet carriage, who looks about her, but does +not suppose that anybody is looking at her. If she has a broad +face and square brow, well-marked eyebrows and curly dark hair, +a certain expression of amusement in her glance which her mouth keeps +the secret of, and for the rest features entirely insignificant-- +take that ordinary but not disagreeable person for a portrait +of Mary Garth. If you made her smile, she would show you perfect +little teeth; if you made her angry, she would not raise her voice, +but would probably say one of the bitterest things you have ever tasted +the flavor of; if you did her a kindness, she would never forget it. +Mary admired the keen-faced handsome little Vicar in his well-brushed +threadbare clothes more than any man she had had the opportunity +of knowing. She had never heard him say a foolish thing, though she +knew that he did unwise ones; and perhaps foolish sayings were more +objectionable to her than any of Mr. Farebrother's unwise doings. +At least, it was remarkable that the actual imperfections of the +Vicar's clerical character never seemed to call forth the same +scorn and dislike which she showed beforehand for the predicted +imperfections of the clerical character sustained by Fred Vincy. +These irregularities of judgment, I imagine, are found even in riper +minds than Mary Garth's: our impartiality is kept for abstract +merit and demerit, which none of us ever saw. Will any one guess +towards which of those widely different men Mary had the peculiar +woman's tenderness?--the one she was most inclined to be severe on, +or the contrary? + +"Have you any message for your old playfellow, Miss Garth?" +said the Vicar, as he took a fragrant apple from the basket which she +held towards him, and put it in his pocket. "Something to soften +down that harsh judgment? I am going straight to see him." + +"No," said Mary, shaking her head, and smiling. "If I were to say +that he would not be ridiculous as a clergyman, I must say that he +would be something worse than ridiculous. But I am very glad +to hear that he is going away to work." + +"On the other hand, I am very glad to hear that YOU are not +going away to work. My mother, I am sure, will be all the happier +if you will come to see her at the vicarage: you know she is fond +of having young people to talk to, and she has a great deal to tell +about old times. You will really be doing a kindness." + +"I should like it very much, if I may," said Mary. "Everything +seems too happy for me all at once. I thought it would always +be part of my life to long for home, and losing that grievance +makes me feel rather empty: I suppose it served instead of sense +to fill up my mind?" + +"May I go with you, Mary?" whispered Letty--a most inconvenient child, +who listened to everything. But she was made exultant by having +her chin pinched and her cheek kissed by Mr. Farebrother-- +an incident which she narrated to her mother and father. + +As the Vicar walked to Lowick, any one watching him closely might +have seen him twice shrug his shoulders. I think that the rare +Englishmen who have this gesture are never of the heavy type-- +for fear of any lumbering instance to the contrary, I will say, +hardly ever; they have usually a fine temperament and much tolerance +towards the smaller errors of men (themselves inclusive). The Vicar +was holding an inward dialogue in which he told himself that there +was probably something more between Fred and Mary Garth than the +regard of old playfellows, and replied with a question whether +that bit of womanhood were not a great deal too choice for that +crude young gentleman. The rejoinder to this was the first shrug. +Then he laughed at himself for being likely to have felt jealous, +as if he had been a man able to marry, which, added he, it is +as clear as any balance-sheet that I am not. Whereupon followed +the second shrug. + +What could two men, so different from each other, see in this +"brown patch," as Mary called herself? It was certainly not her +plainness that attracted them (and let all plain young ladies be +warned against the dangerous encouragement given them by Society +to confide in their want of beauty). A human being in this aged +nation of ours is a very wonderful whole, the slow creation of long +interchanging influences: and charm is a result of two such wholes, +the one loving and the one loved. + +When Mr. and Mrs. Garth were sitting alone, Caleb said, "Susan, guess +what I'm thinking of." + +"The rotation of crops," said Mrs. Garth, smiling at him, +above her knitting, "or else the back-doors of the Tipton cottages." + +"No," said Caleb, gravely; "I am thinking that I could do a great +turn for Fred Vincy. Christy's gone, Alfred will be gone soon, +and it will be five years before Jim is ready to take to business. +I shall want help, and Fred might come in and learn the nature +of things and act under me, and it might be the making of him into +a useful man, if he gives up being a parson. What do you think?" + +"I think, there is hardly anything honest that his family would +object to more," said Mrs. Garth, decidedly. + +"What care I about their objecting?" said Caleb, with a sturdiness +which he was apt to show when he had an opinion. "The lad is of age +and must get his bread. He has sense enough and quickness enough; +he likes being on the land, and it's my belief that he could learn +business well if he gave his mind to it." + +"But would he? His father and mother wanted him to be a fine +gentleman, and I think he has the same sort of feeling himself. +They all think us beneath them. And if the proposal came from you, +I am sure Mrs. Vincy would say that we wanted Fred for Mary." + +"Life is a poor tale, if it is to be settled by nonsense of that sort," +said Caleb, with disgust. + +"Yes, but there is a certain pride which is proper, Caleb." + +"I call it improper pride to let fools' notions hinder you from doing +a good action. There's no sort of work," said Caleb, with fervor, +putting out his hand and moving it up and down to mark his emphasis, +"that could ever be done well, if you minded what fools say. +You must have it inside you that your plan is right, and that plan you +must follow." + +"I will not oppose any plan you have set your mind on, Caleb," +said Mrs. Garth, who was a firm woman, but knew that there +were some points on which her mild husband was yet firmer. +"Still, it seems to be fixed that Fred is to go back to college: +will it not be better to wait and see what he will choose to do +after that? It is not easy to keep people against their will. +And you are not yet quite sure enough of your own position, +or what you will want." + +"Well, it may be better to wait a bit. But as to my getting +plenty of work for two, I'm pretty sure of that. I've always had +my hands full with scattered things, and there's always something +fresh turning up. Why, only yesterday--bless me, I don't think I +told you!--it was rather odd that two men should have been at me +on different sides to do the same bit of valuing. And who do you +think they were?" said Caleb, taking a pinch of snuff and holding +it up between his fingers, as if it were a part of his exposition. +He was fond of a pinch when it occurred to him, but he usually +forgot that this indulgence was at his command. + +His wife held down her knitting and looked attentive. + +"Why, that Rigg, or Rigg Featherstone, was one. But Bulstrode +was before him, so I'm going to do it for Bulstrode. Whether it's +mortgage or purchase they're going for, I can't tell yet." + +"Can that man be going to sell the land just left him--which he +has taken the name for?" said Mrs. Garth. + +"Deuce knows," said Caleb, who never referred the knowledge +of discreditable doings to any higher power than the deuce. +"But Bulstrode has long been wanting to get a handsome bit of land +under his fingers--that I know. And it's a difficult matter to get, +in this part of the country." + +Caleb scattered his snuff carefully instead of taking it, +and then added, "The ins and outs of things are curious. +Here is the land they've been all along expecting for Fred, +which it seems the old man never meant to leave him a foot of, +but left it to this side-slip of a son that he kept in the dark, +and thought of his sticking there and vexing everybody as well as he +could have vexed 'em himself if he could have kept alive. I say, +it would be curious if it got into Bulstrode's hands after all. +The old man hated him, and never would bank with him." + +"What reason could the miserable creature have for hating a man +whom he had nothing to do with?" said Mrs. Garth. + +"Pooh! where's the use of asking for such fellows' reasons? The soul +of man," said Caleb, with the deep tone and grave shake of the head +which always came when he used this phrase--"The soul of man, +when it gets fairly rotten, will bear you all sorts of poisonous +toad-stools, and no eye can see whence came the seed thereof." + +It was one of Caleb's quaintnesses, that in his difficulty of finding +speech for his thought, he caught, as it were, snatches of diction +which he associated with various points of view or states of mind; +and whenever he had a feeling of awe, he was haunted by a sense +of Biblical phraseology, though he could hardly have given +a strict quotation. + +CHAPTER XLI. + + "By swaggering could I never thrive, + For the rain it raineth every day. + --Twelfth Night + +The transactions referred to by Caleb Garth as having gone forward +between Mr. Bulstrode and Mr. Joshua Rigg Featherstone concerning +the land attached to Stone Court, had occasioned the interchange +of a letter or two between these personages. + +Who shall tell what may be the effect of writing? If it happens +to have been cut in stone, though it lie face down-most for ages +on a forsaken beach, or "rest quietly under the drums and tramplings +of many conquests," it may end by letting us into the secret of +usurpations and other scandals gossiped about long empires ago:-- +this world being apparently a huge whispering-gallery. Such conditions +are often minutely represented in our petty lifetimes. As the stone +which has been kicked by generations of clowns may come by curious +little links of effect under the eyes of a scholar, through whose +labors it may at last fix the date of invasions and unlock religions, +so a bit of ink and paper which has long been an innocent wrapping +or stop-gap may at last be laid open under the one pair of eyes which +have knowledge enough to turn it into the opening of a catastrophe. +To Uriel watching the progress of planetary history from the sun, +the one result would be just as much of a coincidence as the other. + +Having made this rather lofty comparison I am less uneasy in calling +attention to the existence of low people by whose interference, +however little we may like it, the course of the world is very +much determined. It would be well, certainly, if we could help +to reduce their number, and something might perhaps be done by not +lightly giving occasion to their existence. Socially speaking, +Joshua Rigg would have been generally pronounced a superfluity. +But those who like Peter Featherstone never had a copy of +themselves demanded, are the very last to wait for such a request +either in prose or verse. The copy in this case bore more of +outside resemblance to the mother, in whose sex frog-features, +accompanied with fresh-colored cheeks and a well-rounded figure, +are compatible with much charm for a certain order of admirers. +The result is sometimes a frog-faced male, desirable, surely, +to no order of intelligent beings. Especially when he is suddenly +brought into evidence to frustrate other people's expectations-- +the very lowest aspect in which a social superfluity can present himself. + +But Mr. Rigg Featherstone's low characteristics were all of the sober, +water-drinking kind. From the earliest to the latest hour of the day +he was always as sleek, neat, and cool as the frog he resembled, +and old Peter had secretly chuckled over an offshoot almost more +calculating, and far more imperturbable, than himself. I will add +that his finger-nails were scrupulously attended to, and that he +meant to marry a well-educated young lady (as yet unspecified) +whose person was good, and whose connections, in a solid middle-class +way, were undeniable. Thus his nails and modesty were comparable +to those of most gentlemen; though his ambition had been educated +only by the opportunities of a clerk and accountant in the smaller +commercial houses of a seaport. He thought the rural Featherstones +very simple absurd people, and they in their turn regarded his +"bringing up" in a seaport town as an exaggeration of the monstrosity +that their brother Peter, and still more Peter's property, should +have had such belongings. + +The garden and gravel approach, as seen from the two windows of the +wainscoted parlor at Stone Court, were never in better trim than now, +when Mr. Rigg Featherstone stood, with his hands behind him, +looking out on these grounds as their master. But it seemed doubtful +whether he looked out for the sake of contemplation or of turning his +back to a person who stood in the middle of the room, with his legs +considerably apart and his hands in his trouser-pockets: a person +in all respects a contrast to the sleek and cool Rigg. He was a man +obviously on the way towards sixty, very florid and hairy, with much +gray in his bushy whiskers and thick curly hair, a stoutish body +which showed to disadvantage the somewhat worn joinings of his clothes, +and the air of a swaggerer, who would aim at being noticeable even at +a show of fireworks, regarding his own remarks on any other person's +performance as likely to be more interesting than the performance itself. + +His name was John Raffles, and he sometimes wrote jocosely W.A.G. +after his signature, observing when he did so, that he was once +taught by Leonard Lamb of Finsbury who wrote B.A. after his name, +and that he, Raffles, originated the witticism of calling that +celebrated principal Ba-Lamb. Such were the appearance and mental +flavor of Mr. Raffles, both of which seemed to have a stale odor +of travellers' rooms in the commercial hotels of that period. + +"Come, now, Josh," he was saying, in a full rumbling tone, "look at it +in this light: here is your poor mother going into the vale of years, +and you could afford something handsome now to make her comfortable." + +"Not while you live. Nothing would make her comfortable while +you live," returned Rigg, in his cool high voice. "What I give her, +you'll take." + +"You bear me a grudge, Josh, that I know. But come, now--as between +man and man--without humbug--a little capital might enable me to make +a first-rate thing of the shop. The tobacco trade is growing. +I should cut my own nose off in not doing the best I could at it. +I should stick to it like a flea to a fleece for my own sake. +I should always be on the spot. And nothing would make your +poor mother so happy. I've pretty well done with my wild oats-- +turned fifty-five. I want to settle down in my chimney-corner. And +if I once buckled to the tobacco trade, I could bring an amount +of brains and experience to bear on it that would not be found +elsewhere in a hurry. I don't want to be bothering you one time +after another, but to get things once for all into the right channel. +Consider that, Josh--as between man and man--and with your poor mother +to be made easy for her life. I was always fond of the old woman, +by Jove!" + +"Have you done?" said Mr. Rigg, quietly, without looking away +from the window. + +"Yes, I've done," said Raffles, taking hold of his hat which stood +before him on the table, and giving it a sort of oratorical push. + +"Then just listen to me. The more you say anything, the less I shall +believe it. The more you want me to do a thing, the more reason I +shall have for never doing it. Do you think I mean to forget your +kicking me when I was a lad, and eating all the best victual away +from me and my mother? Do you think I forget your always coming +home to sell and pocket everything, and going off again leaving us +in the lurch? I should be glad to see you whipped at the cart-tail. +My mother was a fool to you: she'd no right to give me a father-in-law, +and she's been punished for it. She shall have her weekly allowance +paid and no more: and that shall be stopped if you dare to come +on to these premises again, or to come into this country after +me again. The next time you show yourself inside the gates here, +you shall be driven off with the dogs and the wagoner's whip." + +As Rigg pronounced the last words he turned round and looked +at Raffles with his prominent frozen eyes. The contrast +was as striking as it could have been eighteen years before, +when Rigg was a most unengaging kickable boy, and Raffles was +the rather thick-set Adonis of bar-rooms and back-parlors. But +the advantage now was on the side of Rigg, and auditors of this +conversation might probably have expected that Raffles would retire +with the air of a defeated dog. Not at all. He made a grimace +which was habitual with him whenever he was "out" in a game; +then subsided into a laugh, and drew a brandy-flask from his pocket. + +"Come, Josh," he said, in a cajoling tone, "give us a spoonful of brandy, +and a sovereign to pay the way back, and I'll go. Honor bright! +I'll go like a bullet, BY Jove!" + +"Mind," said Rigg, drawing out a bunch of keys, "if I ever see you again, +I shan't speak to you. I don't own you any more than if I saw a crow; +and if you want to own me you'll get nothing by it but a character +for being what you are--a spiteful, brassy, bullying rogue." + +"That's a pity, now, Josh," said Raffles, affecting to scratch +his head and wrinkle his brows upward as if he were nonplussed. +"I'm very fond of you; BY Jove, I am! There's nothing I like +better than plaguing you--you're so like your mother, and I must +do without it. But the brandy and the sovereign's a bargain." + +He jerked forward the flask and Rigg went to a fine old oaken +bureau with his keys. But Raffles had reminded himself by his +movement with the flask that it had become dangerously loose +from its leather covering, and catching sight of a folded paper +which had fallen within the fender, he took it up and shoved +it under the leather so as to make the glass firm. + +By that time Rigg came forward with a brandy-bottle, filled +the flask, and handed Raffles a sovereign, neither looking at him +nor speaking to him. After locking up the bureau again, he walked +to the window and gazed out as impassibly as he had done at the +beginning of the interview, while Raffles took a small allowance +from the flask, screwed it up, and deposited it in his side-pocket, +with provoking slowness, making a grimace at his stepson's back. + +"Farewell, Josh--and if forever!" said Raffles, turning back his +head as he opened the door. + +Rigg saw him leave the grounds and enter the lane. The gray day +had turned to a light drizzling rain, which freshened the hedgerows +and the grassy borders of the by-roads, and hastened the laborers +who were loading the last shocks of corn. Raffles, walking with +the uneasy gait of a town loiterer obliged to do a bit of country +journeying on foot, looked as incongruous amid this moist rural quiet +and industry as if he had been a baboon escaped from a menagerie. +But there were none to stare at him except the long-weaned calves, +and none to show dislike of his appearance except the little +water-rats which rustled away at his approach. + +He was fortunate enough when he got on to the highroad to be overtaken +by the stage-coach, which carried him to Brassing; and there he took +the new-made railway, observing to his fellow-passengers that he +considered it pretty well seasoned now it had done for Huskisson. +Mr. Raffles on most occasions kept up the sense of having been +educated at an academy, and being able, if he chose, to pass +well everywhere; indeed, there was not one of his fellow-men whom +he did not feel himself in a position to ridicule and torment, +confident of the entertainment which he thus gave to all the rest +of the company. + +He played this part now with as much spirit as if his journey had been +entirely successful, resorting at frequent intervals to his flask. +The paper with which he had wedged it was a letter signed +Nicholas Bulstrode, but Raffles was not likely to disturb it +from its present useful position. + +CHAPTER XLII. + + "How much, methinks, I could despise this man + Were I not bound in charity against it! + --SHAKESPEARE: Henry VIII. + +One of the professional calls made by Lydgate soon after his return +from his wedding-journey was to Lowick Manor, in consequence +of a letter which had requested him to fix a time for his visit. + +Mr. Casaubon had never put any question concerning the nature +of his illness to Lydgate, nor had he even to Dorothea betrayed +any anxiety as to how far it might be likely to cut short his +labors or his life. On this point, as on all others, he shrank +from pity; and if the suspicion of being pitied for anything +in his lot surmised or known in spite of himself was embittering, +the idea of calling forth a show of compassion by frankly admitting +an alarm or a sorrow was necessarily intolerable to him. +Every proud mind knows something of this experience, and perhaps +it is only to be overcome by a sense of fellowship deep enough +to make all efforts at isolation seem mean and petty instead of exalting. + +But Mr. Casaubon was now brooding over something through which the +question of his health and life haunted his silence with a more +harassing importunity even than through the autumnal unripeness +of his authorship. It is true that this last might be called his +central ambition; but there are some kinds of authorship in which +by far the largest result is the uneasy susceptibility accumulated +in the consciousness of the author one knows of the river by a +few streaks amid a long-gathered deposit of uncomfortable mud. +That was the way with Mr. Casaubon's hard intellectual labors. +Their most characteristic result was not the "Key to all Mythologies," +but a morbid consciousness that others did not give him the place +which he had not demonstrably merited--a perpetual suspicious +conjecture that the views entertained of him were not to his advantage-- +a melancholy absence of passion in his efforts at achievement, and a +passionate resistance to the confession that he had achieved nothing. + +Thus his intellectual ambition which seemed to others to have +absorbed and dried him, was really no security against wounds, +least of all against those which came from Dorothea. And he had +begun now to frame possibilities for the future which were somehow +more embittering to him than anything his mind had dwelt on before. + +Against certain facts he was helpless: against Will Ladislaw's +existence his defiant stay in the neighborhood of Lowick, and his +flippant state of mind with regard to the possessors of authentic, +well-stamped erudition: against Dorothea's nature, always taking on +some new shape of ardent activity, and even in submission and silence +covering fervid reasons which it was an irritation to think of: +against certain notions and likings which had taken possession of +her mind in relation to subjects that he could not possibly discuss +with her. "There was no denying that Dorothea was as virtuous +and lovely a young lady as he could have obtained for a wife; +but a young lady turned out to be something more troublesome than he +had conceived. She nursed him, she read to him, she anticipated +his wants, and was solicitous about his feelings; but there had +entered into the husband's mind the certainty that she judged him, +and that her wifely devotedness was like a penitential expiation +of unbelieving thoughts--was accompanied with a power of comparison +by which himself and his doings were seen too luminously as a part +of things in general. His discontent passed vapor-like through all +her gentle loving manifestations, and clung to that inappreciative +world which she had only brought nearer to him. + +Poor Mr. Casaubon! This suffering was the harder to bear because it +seemed like a betrayal: the young creature who had worshipped +him with perfect trust had quickly turned into the critical wife; +and early instances of criticism and resentment had made an impression +which no tenderness and submission afterwards could remove. +To his suspicious interpretation Dorothea's silence now was +a suppressed rebellion; a remark from her which he had not in +any way anticipated was an assertion of conscious superiority; +her gentle answers had an irritating cautiousness in them; +and when she acquiesced it was a self-approved effort of forbearance. +The tenacity with which he strove to hide this inward drama made it +the more vivid for him; as we hear with the more keenness what we +wish others not to hear. + +Instead of wondering at this result of misery in Mr. Casaubon, +I think it quite ordinary. Will not a tiny speck very close to our +vision blot out the glory of the world, and leave only a margin +by which we see the blot? I know no speck so troublesome as self. +And who, if Mr. Casaubon had chosen to expound his discontents-- +his suspicions that he was not any longer adored without criticism-- +could have denied that they were founded on good reasons? +On the contrary, there was a strong reason to be added, which he +had not himself taken explicitly into account--namely, that he was +not unmixedly adorable. He suspected this, however, as he suspected +other things, without confessing it, and like the rest of us, +felt how soothing it would have been to have a co pan ion who would +never find it out. + +This sore susceptibility in relation to Dorothea was thoroughly +prepared before Will Ladislaw had returned to Lowick, and what had +occurred since then had brought Mr. Casaubon's power of suspicious +construction into exasperated activity. To all the facts which he knew, +he added imaginary facts both present and future which become more +real to him than those because they called up a stronger dislike, +a more predominating bitterness. Suspicion and jealousy of Will +Ladislaw's intentions, suspicion and jealousy of Dorothea's impressions, +were constantly at their weaving work. It would be quite unjust +to him to suppose that he could have entered into any coarse +misinterpretation of Dorothea: his own habits of mind and conduct, +quite as much as the open elevation of her nature, saved him +from any such mistake. What he was jealous of was her opinion, +the sway that might be given to her ardent mind in its judgments, +and the future possibilities to which these might lead her. +As to Will, though until his last defiant letter he had nothing definite +which he would choose formally to allege against him, he felt himself +warranted in believing that he was capable of any design which could +fascinate a rebellious temper and an undisciplined impulsiveness. +He was quite sure that Dorothea was the cause of Will's return +from Rome, and his determination to settle in the neighborhood; +and he was penetrating enough to imagine that Dorothea had innocently +encouraged this course. It was as clear as possible that she was +ready to be attached to Will and to be pliant to his suggestions: +they had never had a tete-a-tete without her bringing away from +it some new troublesome impression, and the last interview that +Mr. Casaubon was aware of (Dorothea, on returning from Freshitt Hall, +had for the first time been silent about having seen Will) had led +to a scene which roused an angrier feeling against them both than +he had ever known before. Dorothea's outpouring of her notions +about money, in the darkness of the night, had done nothing but bring +a mixture of more odious foreboding into her husband's mind. + +And there was the shock lately given to his health always sadly +present with him. He was certainly much revived; he had recovered +all his usual power of work: the illness might have been mere fatigue, +and there might still be twenty years of achievement before him, +which would justify the thirty years of preparation. That prospect +was made the sweeter by a flavor of vengeance against the hasty +sneers of Carp & Company; for even when Mr. Casaubon was carrying +his taper among the tombs of the past, those modern figures came +athwart the dim light, and interrupted his diligent exploration. +To convince Carp of his mistake, so that he would have to eat his +own words with a good deal of indigestion, would be an agreeable +accident of triumphant authorship, which the prospect of living to +future ages on earth and to all eternity in heaven could not exclude +from contemplation. Since, thus, the prevision of his own unending +bliss could not nullify the bitter savors of irritated jealousy +and vindictiveness, it is the less surprising that the probability +of a transient earthly bliss for other persons, when he himself +should have entered into glory, had not a potently sweetening effect. +If the truth should be that some undermining disease was at work +within him, there might be large opportunity for some people to be +the happier when he was gone; and if one of those people should be +Will Ladislaw, Mr. Casaubon objected so strongly that it seemed +as if the annoyance would make part of his disembodied existence. + +This is a very bare and therefore a very incomplete way of putting +the case. The human soul moves in many channels, and Mr. Casaubon, +we know, had a sense of rectitude and an honorable pride in satisfying +the requirements of honor, which compelled him to find other +reasons for his conduct than those of jealousy and vindictiveness. +The way in which Mr. Casaubon put the case was this:--"In marrying +Dorothea Brooke I had to care for her well-being in case of my death. +But well-being is not to be secured by ample, independent possession +of property; on the contrary, occasions might arise in which such +possession might expose her to the more danger. She is ready prey +to any man who knows how to play adroitly either on her affectionate +ardor or her Quixotic enthusiasm; and a man stands by with that +very intention in his mind--a man with no other principle than +transient caprice, and who has a personal animosity towards me-- +I am sure of it--an animosity which is fed by the consciousness +of his ingratitude, and which he has constantly vented in ridicule +of which I am as well assured as if I had heard it. Even if I +live I shall not be without uneasiness as to what he may attempt +through indirect influence. This man has gained Dorothea's ear: +he has fascinated her attention; he has evidently tried to impress +her mind with the notion that he has claims beyond anything I have done +for him. If I die--and he is waiting here on the watch for that-- +he will persuade her to marry him. That would be calamity for +her and success for him. SHE would not think it calamity: +he would make her believe anything; she has a tendency to +immoderate attachment which she inwardly reproaches me for not +responding to, and already her mind is occupied with his fortunes. +He thinks of an easy conquest and of entering into my nest. +That I will hinder! Such a marriage would be fatal to Dorothea. +Has he ever persisted in anything except from contradiction? +In knowledge he has always tried to be showy at small cost. +In religion he could be, as long as it suited him, the facile echo of +Dorothea's vagaries. When was sciolism ever dissociated from laxity? +I utterly distrust his morals, and it is my duty to hinder to the +utmost the fulfilment of his designs." + +The arrangements made by Mr. Casaubon on his marriage left strong +measures open to him, but in ruminating on them his mind inevitably +dwelt so much on the probabilities of his own life that the longing +to get the nearest possible calculation had at last overcome his +proud reticence, and had determined him to ask Lydgate's opinion +as to the nature of his illness. + +He had mentioned to Dorothea that Lydgate was coming by appointment +at half-past three, and in answer to her anxious question, whether he +had felt ill, replied,--"No, I merely wish to have his opinion +concerning some habitual symptoms. You need not see him, my dear. +I shall give orders that he may be sent to me in the Yew-tree Walk, +where I shall be taking my usual exercise." + +When Lydgate entered the Yew-tree Walk he saw Mr. Casaubon slowly +receding with his hands behind him according to his habit, +and his head bent forward. It was a lovely afternoon; the leaves +from the lofty limes were falling silently across the sombre +evergreens, while the lights and shadows slept side by side: +there was no sound but the cawing of the rooks, which to the +accustomed ear is a lullaby, or that last solemn lullaby, a dirge. +Lydgate, conscious of an energetic frame in its prime, felt some +compassion when the figure which he was likely soon to overtake +turned round, and in advancing towards him showed more markedly +than ever the signs of premature age--the student's bent shoulders, +the emaciated limbs, and the melancholy lines of the mouth. +"Poor fellow," he thought, "some men with his years are like lions; +one can tell nothing of their age except that they are full grown." + +"Mr. Lydgate," said Mr. Casaubon, with his invariably po lite air, +"I am exceedingly obliged to you for your punctuality. We will, +if you please, carry on our conversation in walking to and fro." + +"I hope your wish to see me is not due to the return +of unpleasant symptoms," said Lydgate, filling up a pause. + +"Not immediately--no. In order to account for that wish I must mention-- +what it were otherwise needless to refer to--that my life, +on all collateral accounts insignificant, derives a possible +importance from the incompleteness of labors which have extended +through all its best years. In short, I have long had on hand +a work which I would fain leave behind me in such a state, at least, +that it might be committed to the press by--others. Were I assured +that this is the utmost I can reasonably expect, that assurance +would be a useful circumscription of my attempts, and a guide +in both the positive and negative determination of my course." + +Here Mr. Casaubon paused, removed one hand from his back and thrust +it between the buttons of his single-breasted coat. To a mind +largely instructed in the human destiny hardly anything could be +more interesting than the inward conflict implied in his formal +measured address, delivered with the usual sing-song and motion +of the head. Nay, are there many situations more sublimely tragic +than the struggle of the soul with the demand to renounce a work +which has been all the significance of its life--a significance +which is to vanish as the waters which come and go where no man has +need of them? But there was nothing to strike others as sublime +about Mr. Casaubon, and Lydgate, who had some contempt at hand for +futile scholarship, felt a little amusement mingling with his pity. +He was at present too ill acquainted with disaster to enter into +the pathos of a lot where everything is below the level of tragedy +except the passionate egoism of the sufferer. + +"You refer to the possible hindrances from want of health?" he said, +wishing to help forward Mr. Casaubon's purpose, which seemed to be +clogged by some hesitation. + +"I do. You have not implied to me that the symptoms which-- +I am bound to testify--you watched with scrupulous care, +were those of a fatal disease. But were it so, Mr. Lydgate, +I should desire to know the truth without reservation, and I +appeal to you for an exact statement of your conclusions: +I request it as a friendly service. If you can tell me that my +life is not threatened by anything else than ordinary casualties, +I shall rejoice, on grounds which I have already indicated. +If not, knowledge of the truth is even more important to me." + +"Then I can no longer hesitate as to my course," said Lydgate; +"but the first thing I must impress on you is that my conclusions +are doubly uncertain--uncertain not only because of my fallibility, +but because diseases of the heart are eminently difficult to found +predictions on. In any ease, one can hardly increase appreciably +the tremendous uncertainty of life." + +Mr. Casaubon winced perceptibly, but bowed. + +"I believe that you are suffering from what is called fatty +degeneration of the heart, a disease which was first divined +and explored by Laennec, the man who gave us the stethoscope, +not so very many years ago. A good deal of experience--a more +lengthened observation--is wanting on the subject. But after +what you have said, it is my duty to tell you that death from this +disease is often sudden. At the same time, no such result can +be predicted. Your condition may be consistent with a tolerably +comfortable life for another fifteen years, or even more. I could +add no information to this beyond anatomical or medical details, +which would leave expectation at precisely the same point." +Lydgate's instinct was fine enough to tell him that plain speech, +quite free from ostentatious caution, would be felt by Mr. Casaubon +as a tribute of respect. + +"I thank you, Mr. Lydgate," said Mr. Casaubon, after a moment's pause. +"One thing more I have still to ask: did you communicate what you +have now told me to Mrs. Casaubon?" + +"Partly--I mean, as to the possible issues." Lydgate was going +to explain why he had told Dorothea, but Mr. Casaubon, with an +unmistakable desire to end the conversation, waved his hand slightly, +and said again, "I thank you," proceeding to remark on the rare +beauty of the day. + +Lydgate, certain that his patient wished to be alone, soon left him; +and the black figure with hands behind and head bent forward +continued to pace the walk where the dark yew-trees gave him +a mute companionship in melancholy, and the little shadows of bird +or leaf that fleeted across the isles of sunlight, stole along +in silence as in the presence of a sorrow. Here was a man who now +for the first time found himself looking into the eyes of death-- +who was passing through one of those rare moments of experience +when we feel the truth of a commonplace, which is as different from +what we call knowing it, as the vision of waters upon the earth is +different from the delirious vision of the water which cannot be had +to cool the burning tongue. When the commonplace "We must all die" +transforms itself suddenly into the acute consciousness "I must die-- +and soon," then death grapples us, and his fingers are cruel; +afterwards, he may come to fold us in his arms as our mother did, +and our last moment of dim earthly discerning may be like the first. +To Mr. Casaubon now, it was as if he suddenly found himself on +the dark river-brink and heard the plash of the oncoming oar, +not discerning the forms, but expecting the summons. In such an +hour the mind does not change its lifelong bias, but carries it +onward in imagination to the other side of death, gazing backward-- +perhaps with the divine calm of beneficence, perhaps with the petty +anxieties of self-assertion. What was Mr. Casaubon's bias his acts +will give us a clew to. He held himself to be, with some private +scholarly reservations, a believing Christian, as to estimates of +the present and hopes of the future. But what we strive to gratify, +though we may call it a distant hope, is an immediate desire: +the future estate for which men drudge up city alleys exists already +in their imagination and love. And Mr. Casaubon's immediate desire +was not for divine communion and light divested of earthly conditions; +his passionate longings, poor man, clung low and mist-like in very +shady places. + +Dorothea had been aware when Lydgate had ridden away, and she had +stepped into the garden, with the impulse to go at once to her husband. +But she hesitated, fearing to offend him by obtruding herself; +for her ardor, continually repulsed, served, with her intense memory, +to heighten her dread, as thwarted energy subsides into a shudder; +and she wandered slowly round the nearer clumps of trees until +she saw him advancing. Then she went towards him, and might have +represented a heaven-sent angel coming with a promise that the +short hours remaining should yet be filled with that faithful +love which clings the closer to a comprehended grief. His glance +in reply to hers was so chill that she felt her timidity increased; +yet she turned and passed her hand through his arm. + +Mr. Casaubon kept his hands behind him and allowed her pliant arm +to cling with difficulty against his rigid arm. + +There was something horrible to Dorothea in the sensation which this +unresponsive hardness inflicted on her. That is a strong word, +but not too strong: it is in these acts called trivialities that +the seeds of joy are forever wasted, until men and women look round +with haggard faces at the devastation their own waste has made, +and say, the earth bears no harvest of sweetness--calling their +denial knowledge. You may ask why, in the name of manliness, +Mr. Casaubon should have behaved in that way. Consider that his +was a mind which shrank from pity: have you ever watched in such +a mind the effect of a suspicion that what is pressing it as a grief +may be really a source of contentment, either actual or future, +to the being who already offends by pitying? Besides, he knew +little of Dorothea's sensations, and had not reflected that on +such an occasion as the present they were comparable in strength +to his own sensibilities about Carp's criticisms. + +Dorothea did not withdraw her arm, but she could not venture to speak. +Mr. Casaubon did not say, "I wish to be alone," but he directed his +steps in silence towards the house, and as they entered by the glass +door on this eastern side, Dorothea withdrew her arm and lingered +on the matting, that she might leave her husband quite free. +He entered the library and shut himself in, alone with his sorrow. + +She went up to her boudoir. The open bow-window let in the serene +glory of the afternoon lying in the avenue, where the lime-trees +east long shadows. But Dorothea knew nothing of the scene. +She threw herself on a chair, not heeding that she was in the +dazzling sun-rays: if there were discomfort in that, how could +she tell that it was not part of her inward misery? + +She was in the reaction of a rebellious anger stronger than any she +had felt since her marriage. Instead of tears there came words:-- + +"What have I done--what am I--that he should treat me so? +He never knows what is in my mind--he never cares. What is the use +of anything I do? He wishes he had never married me." + +She began to hear herself, and was checked into stillness. Like one +who has lost his way and is weary, she sat and saw as in one glance +all the paths of her young hope which she should never find again. +And just as clearly in the miserable light she saw her own and her +husband's solitude--how they walked apart so that she was obliged +to survey him. If he had drawn her towards him, she would never have +surveyed him--never have said, "Is he worth living for?" but would +have felt him simply a part of her own life. Now she said bitterly, +"It is his fault, not mine." In the jar of her whole being, +Pity was overthrown. Was it her fault that she had believed in him-- +had believed in his worthiness?--And what, exactly, was he?-- +She was able enough to estimate him--she who waited on his glances +with trembling, and shut her best soul in prison, paying it only +hidden visits, that she might be petty enough to please him. +In such a crisis as this, some women begin to hate. + +The sun was low when Dorothea was thinking that she would not go +down again, but would send a message to her husband saying that she +was not well and preferred remaining up-stairs. She had never +deliberately allowed her resentment to govern her in this way before, +but she believed now that she could not see him again without +telling him the truth about her feeling, and she must wait till +she could do it without interruption. He might wonder and be hurt +at her message. It was good that he should wonder and be hurt. +Her anger said, as anger is apt to say, that God was with her-- +that all heaven, though it were crowded with spirits watching them, +must be on her side. She had determined to ring her bell, when there +came a rap at the door. + +Mr. Casaubon had sent to say that he would have his dinner +in the library. He wished to be quite alone this evening, +being much occupied. + +"I shall not dine, then, Tantripp." + +"Oh, madam, let me bring you a little something?" + +"No; I am not well. Get everything ready in my dressing room, +but pray do not disturb me again." + +Dorothea sat almost motionless in her meditative struggle, +while the evening slowly deepened into night. But the struggle +changed continually, as that of a man who begins with a movement +towards striking and ends with conquering his desire to strike. +The energy that would animate a crime is not more than is wanted +to inspire a resolved, submission, when the noble habit of the soul +reasserts itself. That thought with which Dorothea had gone +out to meet her husband--her conviction that he had been asking +about the possible arrest of all his work, and that the answer +must have wrung his heart, could not be long without rising beside +the image of him, like a shadowy monitor looking at her anger +with sad remonstrance. It cost her a litany of pictured sorrows +and of silent cries that she might be the mercy for those sorrows-- +but the resolved submission did come; and when the house was still, +and she knew that it was near the time when Mr. Casaubon habitually +went to rest, she opened her door gently and stood outside in the +darkness waiting for his coming up-stairs with a light in his hand. +If he did not come soon she thought that she would go down and even risk +incurring another pang. She would never again expect anything else. +But she did hear the library door open, and slowly the light advanced +up the staircase without noise from the footsteps on the carpet. +When her husband stood opposite to her, she saw that his face was +more haggard. He started slightly on seeing her, and she looked up +at him beseechingly, without speaking. + +"Dorothea!" he said, with a gentle surprise in his tone. "Were you +waiting for me?" + +"Yes, I did not like to disturb you." + +"Come, my dear, come. You are young, and need not to extend your +life by watching." + +When the kind quiet melancholy of that speech fell on Dorothea's ears, +she felt something like the thankfulness that might well up +in us if we had narrowly escaped hurting a lamed creature. +She put her hand into her husband's, and they went along the broad +corridor together. + +BOOK V. + +THE DEAD HAND. + +CHAPTER XLIII. + + This figure hath high price: 't was wrought with love + Ages ago in finest ivory; + Nought modish in it, pure and noble lines + Of generous womanhood that fits all time + That too is costly ware; majolica + Of deft design, to please a lordly eye: + The smile, you see, is perfect--wonderful + As mere Faience! a table ornament + To suit the richest mounting." + +Dorothea seldom left home without her husband, but she did occasionally +drive into Middlemarch alone, on little errands of shopping or charity +such as occur to every lady of any wealth when she lives within three +miles of a town. Two days after that scene in the Yew-tree Walk, +she determined to use such an opportunity in order if possible to +see Lydgate, and learn from him whether her husband had really felt +any depressing change of symptoms which he was concealing from her, +and whether he had insisted on knowing the utmost about himself. +She felt almost guilty in asking for knowledge about him from another, +but the dread of being without it--the dread of that ignorance +which would make her unjust or hard--overcame every scruple. +That there had been some crisis in her husband's mind she was certain: +he had the very next day begun a new method of arranging his notes, +and had associated her quite newly in carrying out his plan. +Poor Dorothea needed to lay up stores of patience. + +It was about four o'clock when she drove to Lydgate's house in +Lowick Gate, wishing, in her immediate doubt of finding him at home, +that she had written beforehand. And he was not at home. + +"Is Mrs. Lydgate at home?" said Dorothea, who had never, that she +knew of, seen Rosamond, but now remembered the fact of the marriage. +Yes, Mrs. Lydgate was at home. + +"I will go in and speak to her, if she will allow me. Will you +ask her if she can see me--see Mrs. Casaubon, for a few minutes?" + +When the servant had gone to deliver that message, Dorothea could +hear sounds of music through an open window--a few notes +from a man's voice and then a piano bursting into roulades. +But the roulades broke off suddenly, and then the servant came +back saying that Mrs. Lydgate would be happy to see Mrs. Casaubon. + +When the drawing-room door opened and Dorothea entered, there was +a sort of contrast not infrequent in country life when the habits +of the different ranks were less blent than now. Let those who know, +tell us exactly what stuff it was that Dorothea wore in those days +of mild autumn--that thin white woollen stuff soft to the touch +and soft to the eye. It always seemed to have been lately washed, +and to smell of the sweet hedges--was always in the shape of a +pelisse with sleeves hanging all out of the fashion. Yet if she +had entered before a still audience as Imogene or Cato's daughter, +the dress might have seemed right enough: the grace and dignity were +in her limbs and neck; and about her simply parted hair and candid +eyes the large round poke which was then in the fate of women, +seemed no more odd as a head-dress than the gold trencher we call +a halo. By the present audience of two persons, no dramatic heroine +could have been expected with more interest than Mrs. Casaubon. +To Rosamond she was one of those county divinities not mixing with +Middlemarch mortality, whose slightest marks of manner or appearance +were worthy of her study; moreover, Rosamond was not without satisfaction +that Mrs. Casaubon should have an opportunity of studying HER. +What is the use of being exquisite if you are not seen by the best +judges? and since Rosamond had received the highest compliments +at Sir Godwin Lydgate's, she felt quite confident of the impression +she must make on people of good birth. Dorothea put out her hand +with her usual simple kindness, and looked admiringly at Lydgate's +lovely bride--aware that there was a gentleman standing at a distance, +but seeing him merely as a coated figure at a wide angle. +The gentleman was too much occupied with the presence of the one woman +to reflect on the contrast between the two--a contrast that would +certainly have been striking to a calm observer. They were both tall, +and their eyes were on a level; but imagine Rosamond's infantine +blondness and wondrous crown of hair-plaits, with her pale-blue +dress of a fit and fashion so perfect that no dressmaker could look +at it without emotion, a large embroidered collar which it was +to be hoped all beholders would know the price of, her small hands +duly set off with rings, and that controlled self-consciousness +of manner which is the expensive substitute for simplicity. + +"Thank you very much for allowing me to interrupt you," +said Dorothea, immediately. "I am anxious to see Mr. Lydgate, +if possible, before I go home, and I hoped that you might possibly +tell me where I could find him, or even allow me to wait for him, +if you expect him soon." + +"He is at the New Hospital," said Rosamond; "I am not sure how soon +he will come home. But I can send for him," + +"Will you let me go and fetch him?" said Will Ladislaw, coming forward. +He had already taken up his hat before Dorothea entered. +She colored with surprise, but put out her hand with a smile +of unmistakable pleasure, saying-- + +"I did not know it was you: I had no thought of seeing you here." + +"May I go to the Hospital and tell Mr. Lydgate that you wish +to see him?" said Will. + +"It would be quicker to send the carriage for him," said Dorothea, +"if you will be kind enough to give the message to the coachman." + +Will was moving to the door when Dorothea, whose mind had flashed +in an instant over many connected memories, turned quickly and said, +"I will go myself, thank you. I wish to lose no time before getting +home again. I will drive to the Hospital and see Mr. Lydgate there. +Pray excuse me, Mrs. Lydgate. I am very much obliged to you." + +Her mind was evidently arrested by some sudden thought, and she +left the room hardly conscious of what was immediately around her-- +hardly conscious that Will opened the door for her and offered her his +arm to lead her to the carriage. She took the arm but said nothing. +Will was feeling rather vexed and miserable, and found nothing +to say on his side. He handed her into the carriage in silence, +they said good-by, and Dorothea drove away. + +In the five minutes' drive to the Hospital she had time for some +reflections that were quite new to her. Her decision to go, and her +preoccupation in leaving the room, had come from the sudden sense +that there would be a sort of deception in her voluntarily allowing +any further intercourse between herself and Will which she was unable +to mention to her husband, and already her errand in seeking Lydgate +was a matter of concealment. That was all that had been explicitly +in her mind; but she had been urged also by a vague discomfort. +Now that she was alone in her drive, she heard the notes of the man's +voice and the accompanying piano, which she had not noted much +at the time, returning on her inward sense; and she found herself +thinking with some wonder that Will Ladislaw was passing his time +with Mrs. Lydgate in her husband's absence. And then she could +not help remembering that he had passed some time with her under +like circumstances, so why should there be any unfitness in the fact? +But Will was Mr. Casaubon's relative, and one towards whom she was +bound to show kindness. Still there had been signs which perhaps +she ought to have understood as implying that Mr. Casaubon did +not like his cousin's visits during his own absence. "Perhaps I +have been mistaken in many things," said poor Dorothea to herself, +while the tears came rolling and she had to dry them quickly. +She felt confusedly unhappy, and the image of Will which had been +so clear to her before was mysteriously spoiled. But the carriage +stopped at the gate of the Hospital. She was soon walking round +the grass plots with Lydgate, and her feelings recovered the strong +bent which had made her seek for this interview. + +Will Ladislaw, meanwhile, was mortified, and knew the reason +of it clearly enough. His chances of meeting Dorothea were rare; +and here for the first time there had come a chance which had set +him at a disadvantage. It was not only, as it had been hitherto, +that she was not supremely occupied with him, but that she had seen +him under circumstances in which he might appear not to be supremely +occupied with her. He felt thrust to a new distance from her, +amongst the circles of Middlemarchers who made no part of her life. +But that was not his fault: of course, since he had taken his lodgings +in the town, he had been making as many acquaintances as he could, +his position requiring that he should know everybody and everything. +Lydgate was really better worth knowing than any one else in +the neighborhood, and he happened to have a wife who was musical +and altogether worth calling upon. Here was the whole history +of the situation in which Diana had descended too unexpectedly on +her worshipper. It was mortifying. Will was conscious that he should +not have been at Middlemarch but for Dorothea; and yet his position +there was threatening to divide him from her with those barriers +of habitual sentiment which are more fatal to the persistence +of mutual interest than all the distance between Rome and Britain. +Prejudices about rank and status were easy enough to defy in the +form of a tyrannical letter from Mr. Casaubon; but prejudices, +like odorous bodies, have a double existence both solid and subtle-- +solid as the pyramids, subtle as the twentieth echo of an echo, +or as the memory of hyacinths which once scented the darkness. +And Will was of a temperament to feel keenly the presence +of subtleties: a man of clumsier perceptions would not have felt, +as he did, that for the first time some sense of unfitness +in perfect freedom with him had sprung up in Dorothea's mind, +and that their silence, as he conducted her to the carriage, +had had a chill in it. Perhaps Casaubon, in his hatred and jealousy, +had been insisting to Dorothea that Will had slid below her socially. +Confound Casaubon! + +Will re-entered the drawing-room, took up his hat, and looking +irritated as he advanced towards Mrs. Lydgate, who had seated +herself at her work-table, said-- + +"It is always fatal to have music or poetry interrupted. May I +come another day and just finish about the rendering of `Lungi dal +caro bene'?" + +"I shall be happy to be taught," said Rosamond. "But I am sure +you admit that the interruption was a very beautiful one. I quite +envy your acquaintance with Mrs. Casaubon. Is she very clever? +She looks as if she were." + +"Really, I never thought about it," said Will, sulkily. + +"That is just the answer Tertius gave me, when I first asked him +if she were handsome. What is it that you gentlemen are thinking +of when you are with Mrs. Casaubon?" + +"Herself," said Will, not indisposed to provoke the charming +Mrs. Lydgate. "When one sees a perfect woman, one never thinks +of her attributes--one is conscious of her presence." + +"I shall be jealous when Tertius goes to Lowick," said Rosamond, +dimpling, and speaking with aery lightness. "He will come back +and think nothing of me." + +"That does not seem to have been the effect on Lydgate hitherto. +Mrs. Casaubon is too unlike other women for them to be compared +with her." + +"You are a devout worshipper, I perceive. You often see her, +I suppose." + +"No," said Will, almost pettishly. "Worship is usually a matter +of theory rather than of practice. But I am practising it to excess +just at this moment--I must really tear myself away. + +"Pray come again some evening: Mr. Lydgate will like to hear +the music, and I cannot enjoy it so well without him." + +When her husband was at home again, Rosamond said, standing in +front of him and holding his coat-collar with both her hands, +"Mr. Ladislaw was here singing with me when Mrs. Casaubon came in. +He seemed vexed. Do you think he disliked her seeing him at our house? +Surely your position is more than equal to his--whatever may be his +relation to the Casaubons." + +"No, no; it must be something else if he were really vexed, +Ladislaw is a sort of gypsy; he thinks nothing of leather and prunella." + +"Music apart, he is not always very agreeable. Do you like him?" + +"Yes: I think he is a good fellow: rather miscellaneous and +bric-a-brac, but likable." + +"Do you know, I think he adores Mrs. Casaubon." + +"Poor devil!" said Lydgate, smiling and pinching his wife's ears. + +Rosamond felt herself beginning to know a great deal of the world, +especially in discovering what when she was in her unmarried girlhood +had been inconceivable to her except as a dim tragedy in by-gone costumes-- +that women, even after marriage, might make conquests and enslave men. +At that time young ladies in the country, even when educated at +Mrs. Lemon's, read little French literature later than Racine, +and public prints had not cast their present magnificent illumination +over the scandals of life. Still, vanity, with a woman's whole +mind and day to work in, can construct abundantly on slight hints, +especially on such a hint as the possibility of indefinite conquests. +How delightful to make captives from the throne of marriage with a +husband as crown-prince by your side--himself in fact a subject-- +while the captives look up forever hopeless, losing their rest probably, +and if their appetite too, so much the better! But Rosamond's romance +turned at present chiefly on her crown-prince, and it was enough +to enjoy his assured subjection. When he said, "Poor devil I" +she asked, with playful curiosity-- + +"Why so?" + +"Why, what can a man do when he takes to adoring one of you mermaids? +He only neglects his work and runs up bills." + +"I am sure you do not neglect your work. You are always at the Hospital, +or seeing poor patients, or thinking about some doctor's quarrel; +and then at home you always want to pore over your microscope +and phials. Confess you like those things better than me." + +"Haven't you ambition enough to wish that your husband should +be something better than a Middlemarch doctor?" said Lydgate, +letting his hands fall on to his wife's shoulders, and looking +at her with affectionate gravity. "I shall make you learn +my favorite bit from an old poet-- + + `Why should our pride make such a stir to be + And be forgot? What good is like to this, + To do worthy the writing, and to write + Worthy the reading and the worlds delight?' + +What I want, Rosy, is to do worthy the writing,--and to write out +myself what I have done. A man must work, to do that, my pet." + +"Of course, I wish you to make discoveries: no one could more wish +you to attain a high position in some better place than Middlemarch. +You cannot say that I have ever tried to hinder you from working. +But we cannot live like hermits. You are not discontented +with me, Tertius?" + +"No, dear, no. I am too entirely contented." + +"But what did Mrs. Casaubon want to say to you?" + +"Merely to ask about her husband's health. But I think she is +going to be splendid to our New Hospital: I think she will give +us two hundred a-year." + +CHAPTER XLIV. + + I would not creep along the coast but steer + Out in mid-sea, by guidance of the stars. + +When Dorothea, walking round the laurel-planted plots of the New +Hospital with Lydgate, had learned from him that there were no signs +of change in Mr. Casaubon's bodily condition beyond the mental +sign of anxiety to know the truth about his illness, she was +silent for a few moments, wondering whether she had said or done +anything to rouse this new anxiety. Lydgate, not willing to let +slip an opportunity of furthering a favorite purpose, ventured to say-- + +"I don't know whether your or Mr.--Casaubon's attention has been drawn +to the needs of our New Hospital. Circumstances have made it seem +rather egotistic in me to urge the subject; but that is not my fault: +it is because there is a fight being made against it by the other +medical men. I think you are generally interested in such things, +for I remember that when I first had the pleasure of seeing you +at Tipton Grange before your marriage, you were asking me some +questions about the way in which the health of the poor was affected +by their miserable housing." + +"Yes, indeed," said Dorothea, brightening. "I shall be quite +grateful to you if you will tell me how I can help to make things +a little better. Everything of that sort has slipped away from me +since I have been married. I mean," she said, after a moment's +hesitation, "that the people in our village are tolerably comfortable, +and my mind has been too much taken up for me to inquire further. +But here--in such a place as Middlemarch--there must be a great +deal to be done." + +"There is everything to be done," said Lydgate, with abrupt energy. +"And this Hospital is a capital piece of work, due entirely to +Mr. Bulstrode's exertions, and in a great degree to his money. +But one man can't do everything in a scheme of this sort. Of course +he looked forward to help. And now there's a mean, petty feud +set up against the thing in the town, by certain persons who want +to make it a failure." + +"What can be their reasons?" said Dorothea, with naive surprise. + +"Chiefly Mr. Bulstrode's unpopularity, to begin with. Half the +town would almost take trouble for the sake of thwarting him. +In this stupid world most people never consider that a thing is good +to be done unless it is done by their own set. I had no connection +with Bulstrode before I came here. I look at him quite impartially, +and I see that he has some notions--that he has set things on foot-- +which I can turn to good public purpose. If a fair number of the better +educated men went to work with the belief that their observations +might contribute to the reform of medical doctrine and practice, +we should soon see a change for the better. That's my point of view. +I hold that by refusing to work with Mr. Bulstrode I should be +turning my back on an opportunity of making my profession more +generally serviceable." + +"I quite agree with you," said Dorothea, at once fascinated by +the situation sketched in Lydgate's words. "But what is there +against Mr. Bulstrode? I know that my uncle is friendly with him." + +"People don't like his religious tone," said Lydgate, breaking off there. + +"That is all the stronger reason for despising such an opposition," +said Dorothea, looking at the affairs of Middlemarch by the light +of the great persecutions. + +"To put the matter quite fairly, they have other objections to him:-- +he is masterful and rather unsociable, and he is concerned with trade, +which has complaints of its own that I know nothing about. +But what has that to do with the question whether it would not be +a fine thing to establish here a more valuable hospital than any +they have in the county? The immediate motive to the opposition, +however, is the fact that Bulstrode has put the medical direction +into my hands. Of course I am glad of that. It gives me an +opportunity of doing some good work,--and I am aware that I have +to justify his choice of me. But the consequence is, that the +whole profession in Middlemarch have set themselves tooth and nail +against the Hospital, and not only refuse to cooperate themselves, +but try to blacken the whole affair and hinder subscriptions." + +"How very petty!" exclaimed Dorothea, indignantly. + +"I suppose one must expect to fight one's way: there is hardly +anything to be done without it. And the ignorance of people about +here is stupendous. I don't lay claim to anything else than having +used some opportunities which have not come within everybody's reach; +but there is no stifling the offence of being young, and a new-comer, +and happening to know something more than the old inhabitants. +Still, if I believe that I can set going a better method of treatment-- +if I believe that I can pursue certain observations and inquiries +which may be a lasting benefit to medical practice, I should be +a base truckler if I allowed any consideration of personal comfort +to hinder me. And the course is all the clearer from there being +no salary in question to put my persistence in an equivocal light." + +"I am glad you have told me this, Mr. Lydgate," said Dorothea, cordially. +"I feel sure I can help a little. I have some money, and don't know +what to do with it--that is often an uncomfortable thought to me. +I am sure I can spare two hundred a-year for a grand purpose like this. +How happy you must be, to know things that you feel sure will do +great good! I wish I could awake with that knowledge every morning. +There seems to be so much trouble taken that one can hardly see +the good of!" + +There was a melancholy cadence in Dorothea's voice as she spoke +these last words. But she presently added, more cheerfully, +"Pray come to Lowick and tell us more of this. I will mention +the subject to Mr. Casaubon. I must hasten home now." + +She did mention it that evening, and said that she should like to +subscribe two hundred a-year--she had seven hundred a-year as the +equivalent of her own fortune, settled on her at her marriage. +Mr. Casaubon made no objection beyond a passing remark that the +sum might be disproportionate in relation to other good objects, +but when Dorothea in her ignorance resisted that suggestion, +he acquiesced. He did not care himself about spending money, +and was not reluctant to give it. If he ever felt keenly any question +of money it was through the medium of another passion than the love +of material property. + +Dorothea told him that she had seen Lydgate, and recited the gist +of her conversation with him about the Hospital. Mr. Casaubon did +not question her further, but he felt sure that she had wished to know +what had passed between Lydgate and himself "She knows that I know," +said the ever-restless voice within; but that increase of tacit +knowledge only thrust further off any confidence between them. +He distrusted her affection; and what loneliness is more lonely +than distrust? + +CHAPTER XLV. + +It is the humor of many heads to extol the days of their forefathers, +and declaim against the wickedness of times present. Which +notwithstanding they cannot handsomely do, without the borrowed help +and satire of times past; condemning the vices of their own times, +by the expressions of vices in times which they commend, which cannot +but argue the community of vice in both. Horace, therefore, Juvenal, +and Persius, were no prophets, although their lines did seem to indigitate +and point at our times.--SIR THOMAS BROWNE: Pseudodoxia Epidemica. + +That opposition to the New Fever Hospital which Lydgate had sketched +to Dorothea was, like other oppositions, to be viewed in many +different lights. He regarded it as a mixture of jealousy and +dunderheaded prejudice. Mr. Bulstrode saw in it not only medical +jealousy but a determination to thwart himself, prompted mainly +by a hatred of that vital religion of which he had striven to be +an effectual lay representative--a hatred which certainly found +pretexts apart from religion such as were only too easy to find +in the entanglements of human action. These might be called the +ministerial views. But oppositions have the illimitable range of +objections at command, which need never stop short at the boundary +of knowledge, but can draw forever on the vasts of ignorance. +What the opposition in Middlemarch said about the New Hospital +and its administration had certainly a great deal of echo in it, +for heaven has taken care that everybody shall not be an originator; +but there were differences which represented every social shade +between the polished moderation of Dr. Minchin and the trenchant +assertion of Mrs. Dollop, the landlady of the Tankard in Slaughter Lane. + +Mrs. Dollop became more and more convinced by her own asseveration, +that Dr. Lydgate meant to let the people die in the Hospital, +if not to poison them, for the sake of cutting them up without +saying by your leave or with your leave; for it was a known "fac" +that he had wanted to cut up Mrs. Goby, as respectable a woman +as any in Parley Street, who had money in trust before her marriage-- +a poor tale for a doctor, who if he was good for anything should know +what was the matter with you before you died, and not want to pry +into your inside after you were gone. If that was not reason, +Mrs. Dollop wished to know what was; but there was a prevalent feeling +in her audience that her opinion was a bulwark, and that if it were +overthrown there would be no limits to the cutting-up of bodies, +as had been well seen in Burke and Hare with their pitch-plaisters-- +such a hanging business as that was not wanted in Middlemarch! + +And let it not be supposed that opinion at the Tankard in Slaughter +Lane was unimportant to the medical profession: that old authentic +public-house--the original Tankard, known by the name of Dollop's-- +was the resort of a great Benefit Club, which had some months before put +to the vote whether its long-standing medical man, "Doctor Gambit," +should not be cashiered in favor of "this Doctor Lydgate," who was +capable of performing the most astonishing cures, and rescuing people +altogether given up by other practitioners. But the balance had been +turned against Lydgate by two members, who for some private reasons +held that this power of resuscitating persons as good as dead was an +equivocal recommendation, and might interfere with providential favors. +In the course of the year, however, there had been a change +in the public sentiment, of which the unanimity at Dollop's was an index + +A good deal more than a year ago, before anything was known of +Lydgate's skill, the judgments on it had naturally been divided, +depending on a sense of likelihood, situated perhaps in the pit +of the stomach or in the pineal gland, and differing in its verdicts, +but not the less valuable as a guide in the total deficit of evidence. +Patients who had chronic diseases or whose lives had long been +worn threadbare, like old Featherstone's, had been at once inclined +to try him; also, many who did not like paying their doctor's bills, +thought agreeably of opening an account with a new doctor and +sending for him without stint if the children's temper wanted +a dose, occasions when the old practitioners were often crusty; +and all persons thus inclined to employ Lydgate held it likely +that he was clever. Some considered that he might do more than +others "where there was liver;"--at least there would be no harm +in getting a few bottles of "stuff" from him, since if these proved +useless it would still be possible to return to the Purifying Pills, +which kept you alive if they did not remove the yellowness. +But these were people of minor importance. Good Middlemarch families +were of course not going to change their doctor without reason shown; +and everybody who had employed Mr. Peacock did not feel obliged +to accept a new man merely in the character of his successor, +objecting that he was "not likely to be equal to Peacock." + +But Lydgate had not been long in the town before there were +particulars enough reported of him to breed much more specific +expectations and to intensify differences into partisanship; +some of the particulars being of that impressive order of which the +significance is entirely hidden, like a statistical amount without +a standard of comparison, but with a note of exclamation at the end. +The cubic feet of oxygen yearly swallowed by a full-grown man-- +what a shudder they might have created in some Middlemarch circles! +"Oxygen! nobody knows what that may be--is it any wonder the cholera +has got to Dantzic? And yet there are people who say quarantine is +no good!" + +One of the facts quickly rumored was that Lydgate did not dispense drugs. +This was offensive both to the physicians whose exclusive distinction +seemed infringed on, and to the surgeon-apothecaries with whom he +ranged himself; and only a little while before, they might have counted +on having the law on their side against a man who without calling +himself a London-made M.D. dared to ask for pay except as a charge +on drugs. But Lydgate had not been experienced enough to foresee +that his new course would be even more offensive to the laity; +and to Mr. Mawmsey, an important grocer in the Top Market, who, +though not one of his patients, questioned him in an affable manner +on the subject, he was injudicious enough to give a hasty popular +explanation of his reasons, pointing out to Mr. Mawmsey that it +must lower the character of practitioners, and be a constant injury +to the public, if their only mode of getting paid for their work +was by their making out long bills for draughts, boluses, and mixtures. + +"It is in that way that hard-working medical men may come to be almost +as mischievous as quacks," said Lydgate, rather thoughtlessly. +"To get their own bread they must overdose the king's lieges; +and that's a bad sort of treason, Mr. Mawmsey--undermines the +constitution in a fatal way." + +Mr. Mawmsey was not only an overseer (it was about a question of +outdoor pay that he was having an interview with Lydgate), he was +also asthmatic and had an increasing family: thus, from a medical +point of view, as well as from his own, he was an important man; +indeed, an exceptional grocer, whose hair was arranged in a +flame-like pyramid, and whose retail deference was of the cordial, +encouraging kind--jocosely complimentary, and with a certain +considerate abstinence from letting out the full force of his mind. +It was Mr. Mawmsey's friendly jocoseness in questioning him which +had set the tone of Lydgate's reply. But let the wise be warned +against too great readiness at explanation: it multiplies the +sources of mistake, lengthening the sum for reckoners sure to go wrong. + +Lydgate smiled as he ended his speech, putting his foot into +the stirrup, and Mr. Mawmsey laughed more than he would have +done if he had known who the king's lieges were, giving his +"Good morning, sir, good-morning, sir," with the air of one who saw +everything clearly enough. But in truth his views were perturbed. +For years he had been paying bills with strictly made items, +so that for every half-crown and eighteen-pence he was certain +something measurable had been delivered. He had done this with +satisfaction, including it among his responsibilities as a husband +and father, and regarding a longer bill than usual as a dignity +worth mentioning. Moreover, in addition to the massive benefit +of the drugs to "self and family," he had enjoyed the pleasure +of forming an acute judgment as to their immediate effects, so as +to give an intelligent statement for the guidance of Mr. Gambit-- +a practitioner just a little lower in status than Wrench or Toller, +and especially esteemed as an accoucheur, of whose ability Mr. Mawmsey +had the poorest opinion on all other points, but in doctoring, +he was wont to say in an undertone, he placed Gambit above any of them. + +Here were deeper reasons than the superficial talk of a new man, +which appeared still flimsier in the drawing-room over the shop, +when they were recited to Mrs. Mawmsey, a woman accustomed to be +made much of as a fertile mother,--generally under attendance more +or less frequent from Mr. Gambit, and occasionally having attacks +which required Dr. Minchin. + +"Does this Mr. Lydgate mean to say there is no use in taking medicine?" +said Mrs. Mawmsey, who was slightly given to drawling. "I should +like him to tell me how I could bear up at Fair time, if I didn't +take strengthening medicine for a month beforehand. Think of what I +have to provide for calling customers, my dear!"--here Mrs. Mawmsey +turned to an intimate female friend who sat by--"a large veal pie-- +a stuffed fillet--a round of beef--ham, tongue, et cetera, +et cetera! But what keeps me up best is the pink mixture, +not the brown. I wonder, Mr. Mawmsey, with your experience, +you could have patience to listen. I should have told him at once +that I knew a little better than that." + +"No, no, no," said Mr. Mawmsey; "I was not going to tell him +my opinion. Hear everything and judge for yourself is my motto. +But he didn't know who he was talking to. I was not to be turned +on HIS finger. People often pretend to tell me things, when they +might as well say, `Mawmsey, you're a fool.' But I smile at it: +I humor everybody's weak place. If physic had done harm to self +and family, I should have found it out by this time." + +The next day Mr. Gambit was told that Lydgate went about saying +physic was of no use. + +"Indeed!" said he, lifting his eyebrows with cautious surprise. +(He was a stout husky man with a large ring on his fourth finger.) +"How will he cure his patients, then?" + +"That is what I say," returned Mrs. Mawmsey, who habitually gave +weight to her speech by loading her pronouns. "Does HE suppose +that people will pay him only to come and sit with them and go +away again?" + +Mrs. Mawmsey had had a great deal of sitting from Mr. Gambit, +including very full accounts of his own habits of body and other affairs; +but of course he knew there was no innuendo in her remark, since his +spare time and personal narrative had never been charged for. +So he replied, humorously-- + +"Well, Lydgate is a good-looking young fellow, you know." + +"Not one that I would employ," said Mrs. Mawmsey. "OTHERS +may do as they please." + +Hence Mr. Gambit could go away from the chief grocer's without +fear of rivalry, but not without a sense that Lydgate was one +of those hypocrites who try to discredit others by advertising +their own honesty, and that it might be worth some people's while +to show him up. Mr. Gambit, however, had a satisfactory practice, +much pervaded by the smells of retail trading which suggested +the reduction of cash payments to a balance. And he did not +think it worth his while to show Lydgate up until he knew how. +He had not indeed great resources of education, and had had to work +his own way against a good deal of professional contempt; but he made +none the worse accoucheur for calling the breathing apparatus "longs." + +Other medical men felt themselves more capable. Mr. Toller shared the +highest practice in the town and belonged to an old Middlemarch family: +there were Tollers in the law and everything else above the line +of retail trade. Unlike our irascible friend Wrench, he had the +easiest way in the world of taking things which might be supposed +to annoy him, being a well-bred, quietly facetious man, who kept +a good house, was very fond of a little sporting when he could get it, +very friendly with Mr. Hawley, and hostile to Mr. Bulstrode. +It may seem odd that with such pleasant habits he should hare been +given to the heroic treatment, bleeding and blistering and starving +his patients, with a dispassionate disregard to his personal example; +but the incongruity favored the opinion of his ability among +his patients, who commonly observed that Mr. Toller had lazy manners, +but his treatment was as active as you could desire: no man, +said they, carried more seriousness into his profession: he was +a little slow in coming, but when he came, he DID something. +He was a great favorite in his own circle, and whatever he implied +to any one's disadvantage told doubly from his careless ironical tone. + +He naturally got tired of smiling and saying, "Ah!" when he was told +that Mr. Peacock's successor did not mean to dispense medicines; +and Mr. Hackbutt one day mentioning it over the wine at a dinner-party, +Mr. Toller said, laughingly, "Dibbitts will get rid of his +stale drugs, then. I'm fond of little Dibbitts--I'm glad he's in luck." + +"I see your meaning, Toller," said Mr. Hackbutt, "and I am entirely +of your opinion. I shall take an opportunity of expressing myself +to that effect. A medical man should be responsible for the +quality of the drugs consumed by his patients. That is the rationale +of the system of charging which has hitherto obtained; +and nothing is more offensive than this ostentation of reform, +where there is no real amelioration." + +"Ostentation, Hackbutt?" said Mr. Toller, ironically. "I don't +see that. A man can't very well be ostentatious of what nobody +believes in. There's no reform in the matter: the question is, +whether the profit on the drugs is paid to the medical man by the +druggist or by the patient, and whether there shall be extra pay +under the name of attendance." + +"Ah, to be sure; one of your damned new versions of old humbug," +said Mr. Hawley, passing the decanter to Mr. Wrench. + +Mr. Wrench, generally abstemious, often drank wine rather freely +at a party, getting the more irritable in consequence. + +"As to humbug, Hawley," he said, "that's a word easy to fling about. +But what I contend against is the way medical men are fouling their +own nest, and setting up a cry about the country as if a general +practitioner who dispenses drugs couldn't be a gentleman. I throw +back the imputation with scorn. I say, the most ungentlemanly trick +a man can be guilty of is to come among the members of his profession +with innovations which are a libel on their time-honored procedure. +That is my opinion, and I am ready to maintain it against any one who +contradicts me." Mr. Wrench's voice had become exceedingly sharp. + +"I can't oblige you there, Wrench," said Mr. Hawley, thrusting his +hands into his trouser-pockets. + +"My dear fellow," said Mr. Toller, striking in pacifically! and +looking at Mr. Wrench, "the physicians have their toes trodden +on more than we have. If you come to dignity it is a question +for Minchin and Sprague." + +"Does medical jurisprudence provide nothing against these infringements?" +said Mr. Hackbutt, with a disinterested desire to offer his lights. +"How does the law stand, eh, Hawley?" + +"Nothing to be done there," said Mr. Hawley. "I looked into +it for Sprague. You'd only break your nose against a damned +judge's decision." + +"Pooh! no need of law," said Mr. Toller. "So far as practice is +concerned the attempt is an absurdity. No patient will like it-- +certainly not Peacock's, who have been used to depletion. +Pass the wine." + +Mr. Toller's prediction was partly verified. If Mr. and Mrs. Mawmsey, +who had no idea of employing Lydgate, were made uneasy by his supposed +declaration against drugs, it was inevitable that those who called +him in should watch a little anxiously to see whether he did "use +all the means he might use" in the case. Even good Mr. Powderell, +who in his constant charity of interpretation was inclined to +esteem Lydgate the more for what seemed a conscientious pursuit +of a better plan, had his mind disturbed with doubts during his +wife's attack of erysipelas, and could not abstain from mentioning +to Lydgate that Mr. Peacock on a similar occasion had administered +a series of boluses which were not otherwise definable than by their +remarkable effect in bringing Mrs. Powderell round before Michaelmas +from an illness which had begun in a remarkably hot August. +At last, indeed, in the conflict between his desire not to hurt +Lydgate and his anxiety that no "means" should be lacking, +he induced his wife privately to take Widgeon's Purifying Bills, +an esteemed Middlemarch medicine, which arrested every disease +at the fountain by setting to work at once upon the blood. +This co-operative measure was not to be mentioned to Lydgate, +and Mr. Powderell himself had no certain reliance on it, +only hoping that it might be attended with a blessing. + +But in this doubtful stage of Lydgate's introduction he was helped +by what we mortals rashly call good fortune. I suppose no doctor ever +came newly to a place without making cures that surprised somebody-- +cures which may be called fortune's testimonials, and deserve as +much credit as the ten or printed kind. Various patients got well +while Lydgate was attending them, some even of dangerous illnesses; +and it was remarked that the new doctor with his new ways had at +least the merit of bringing people back from the brink of death. +The trash talked on such occasions was the more vexatious to Lydgate, +because it gave precisely the sort of prestige which an incompetent +and unscrupulous man would desire, and was sure to be imputed to him +by the simmering dislike of the other medical men as an encouragement +on his own part of ignorant puffing. But even his proud outspokenness +was checked by the discernment that it was as useless to fight +against the interpretations of ignorance as to whip the fog; +and "good fortune" insisted on using those interpretations. + +Mrs. Larcher having just become charitably concerned about alarming +symptoms in her charwoman, when Dr. Minchin called, asked him to see +her then and there, and to give her a certificate for the Infirmary; +whereupon after examination he wrote a statement of the case as one +of tumor, and recommended the bearer Nancy Nash as an out-patient. Nancy, +calling at home on her way to the Infirmary, allowed the stay maker +and his wife, in whose attic she lodged, to read Dr. Minchin's paper, +and by this means became a subject of compassionate conversation +in the neighboring shops of Churchyard Lane as being afflicted with +a tumor at first declared to be as large and hard as a duck's egg, +but later in the day to be about the size of "your fist." +Most hearers agreed that it would have to be cut out, but one had +known of oil and another of "squitchineal" as adequate to soften +and reduce any lump in the body when taken enough of into the inside-- +the oil by gradually "soopling," the squitchineal by eating away. + +Meanwhile when Nancy presented herself at the Infirmary, it happened +to be one of Lydgate's days there. After questioning and examining her, +Lydgate said to the house-surgeon in an undertone, "It's not tumor: +it's cramp." He ordered her a blister and some steel mixture, +and told her to go home and rest, giving her at the same time a note +to Mrs. Larcher, who, she said, was her best employer, to testify +that she was in need of good food. + +But by-and-by Nancy, in her attic, became portentously worse, +the supposed tumor having indeed given way to the blister, but only +wandered to another region with angrier pain. The staymaker's wife +went to fetch Lydgate, and he continued for a fortnight to attend Nancy +in her own home, until under his treatment she got quite well and went +to work again. But the case continued to be described as one of tumor +in Churchyard Lane and other streets--nay, by Mrs. Larcher also; +for when Lydgate's remarkable cure was mentioned to Dr. Minchin, +he naturally did not like to say, "The case was not one of tumor, +and I was mistaken in describing it as such," but answered, +"Indeed! ah! I saw it was a surgical case, not of a fatal kind." +He had been inwardly annoyed, however, when he had asked at the +Infirmary about the woman he had recommended two days before, +to hear from the house-surgeon, a youngster who was not sorry +to vex Minchin with impunity, exactly what had occurred: +he privately pronounced that it was indecent in a general practitioner +to contradict a physician's diagnosis in that open manner, +and afterwards agreed with Wrench that Lydgate was disagreeably +inattentive to etiquette. Lydgate did not make the affair a ground +for valuing himself or (very particularly) despising Minchin, +such rectification of misjudgments often happening among men +of equal qualifications. But report took up this amazing case +of tumor, not clearly distinguished from cancer, and considered +the more awful for being of the wandering sort; till much prejudice +against Lydgate's method as to drugs was overcome by the proof +of his marvellous skill in the speedy restoration of Nancy Nash +after she had been rolling and rolling in agonies from the presence +of a tumor both hard and obstinate, but nevertheless compelled to yield. + +How could Lydgate help himself? It is offensive to tell a lady +when she is expressing her amazement at your skill, that she is +altogether mistaken and rather foolish in her amazement. And to have +entered into the nature of diseases would only have added to his +breaches of medical propriety. Thus he had to wince under a promise +of success given by that ignorant praise which misses every valid quality. + +In the case of a more conspicuous patient, Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, +Lydgate was conscious of having shown himself something better than +an every-day doctor, though here too it was an equivocal advantage +that he won. The eloquent auctioneer was seized with pneumonia, +and having been a patient of Mr. Peacock's, sent for Lydgate, +whom he had expressed his intention to patronize. Mr Trumbull was +a robust man, a good subject for trying the expectant theory upon-- +watching the course of an interesting disease when left as much +as possible to itself, so that the stages might be noted for future +guidance; and from the air with which he described his sensations +Lydgate surmised that he would like to be taken into his medical +man's confidence, and be represented as a partner in his own cure. +The auctioneer heard, without much surprise, that his was a +constitution which (always with due watching) might be left to itself, +so as to offer a beautiful example of a disease with all its phases +seen in clear delineation, and that he probably had the rare strength +of mind voluntarily to become the test of a rational procedure, +and thus make the disorder of his pulmonary functions a general +benefit to society. + +Mr. Trumbull acquiesced at once, and entered strongly into the view +that an illness of his was no ordinary occasion for medical science. + +"Never fear, sir; you are not speaking to one who is altogether ignorant +of the vis medicatrix," said he, with his usual superiority +of expression, made rather pathetic by difficulty of breathing. +And he went without shrinking through his abstinence from drugs, +much sustained by application of the thermometer which implied +the importance of his temperature, by the sense that he furnished +objects for the microscope, and by learning many new words which +seemed suited to the dignity of his secretions. For Lydgate +was acute enough to indulge him with a little technical talk. + +It may be imagined that Mr. Trumbull rose from his couch with a +disposition to speak of an illness in which he had manifested the +strength of his mind as well as constitution; and he was not backward +in awarding credit to the medical man who had discerned the quality of +patient he had to deal with. The auctioneer was not an ungenerous man, +and liked to give others their due, feeling that he could afford it. +He had caught the words "expectant method," and rang chimes on this +and other learned phrases to accompany the assurance that Lydgate "knew +a thing or two more than the rest of the doctors--was far better versed +in the secrets of his profession than the majority of his compeers." + +This had happened before the affair of Fred Vincy's illness had given +to Mr. Wrench's enmity towards Lydgate more definite personal ground. +The new-comer already threatened to be a nuisance in the shape +of rivalry, and was certainly a nuisance in the shape of practical +criticism or reflections on his hard-driven elders, who had had +something else to do than to busy themselves with untried notions. +His practice had spread in one or two quarters, and from the +first the report of his high family had led to his being pretty +generally invited, so that the other medical men had to meet him +at dinner in the best houses; and having to meet a man whom you +dislike is not observed always to end in a mutual attachment. +There was hardly ever so much unanimity among them as in the opinion +that Lydgate was an arrogant young fellow, and yet ready for the +sake of ultimately predominating to show a crawling subservience +to Bulstrode. That Mr. Farebrother, whose name was a chief flag of the +anti-Bulstrode party, always defended Lydgate and made a friend of him, +was referred to Farebrother's unaccountable way of fighting on both sides. + +Here was plenty of preparation for the outburst of professional +disgust at the announcement of the laws Mr. Bulstrode was laying +down for the direction of the New Hospital, which were the more +exasperating because there was no present possibility of interfering +with his will and pleasure, everybody except Lord Medlicote +having refused help towards the building, on the ground that they +preferred giving to the Old Infirmary. Mr. Bulstrode met all +the expenses, and had ceased to be sorry that he was purchasing +the right to carry out his notions of improvement without hindrance +from prejudiced coadjutors; but he had had to spend large sums, +and the building had lingered. Caleb Garth had undertaken it, +had failed during its progress, and before the interior fittings +were begun had retired from the management of the business; +and when referring to the Hospital he often said that however +Bulstrode might ring if you tried him, he liked good solid carpentry +and masonry, and had a notion both of drains and chimneys. In fact, +the Hospital had become an object of intense interest to Bulstrode, +and he would willingly have continued to spare a large yearly sum that +he might rule it dictatorially without any Board; but he had another +favorite object which also required money for its accomplishment: +he wished to bay some land in the neighborhood of Middlemarch, +and therefore he wished to get considerable contributions towards +maintaining the Hospital. Meanwhile he framed his plan of management. +The Hospital was to be reserved for fever in all its forms; +Lydgate was to be chief medical superintendent, that he might have free +authority to pursue all comparative investigations which his studies, +particularly in Paris, had shown him the importance of, the other +medical visitors having a consultative influence, but no power to +contravene Lydgate's ultimate decisions; and the general management +was to be lodged exclusively in the hands of five directors associated +with Mr. Bulstrode, who were to have votes in the ratio of their +contributions, the Board itself filling up any vacancy in its numbers, +and no mob of small contributors being admitted to a share of government. + +There was an immediate refusal on the part of every medical man +in the town to become a visitor at the Fever Hospital. + +"Very well," said Lydgate to Mr. Bulstrode, "we have a capital +house-surgeon and dispenser, a clear-headed, neat-handed fellow; +we'll get Webbe from Crabsley, as good a country practitioner +as any of them, to come over twice a-week, and in case of any +exceptional operation, Protheroe will come from Brassing. +I must work the harder, that's all, and I have given up my post +at the Infirmary. The plan will flourish in spite of them, +and then they'll be glad to come in. Things can't last as they are: +there must be all sorts of reform soon, and then young fellows may +be glad to come and study here." Lydgate was in high spirits. + +"I shall not flinch, you may depend upon it, Mr. Lydgate," +said Mr. Bulstrode. "While I see you carrying out high intentions +with vigor, you shall have my unfailing support. And I have humble +confidence that the blessing which has hitherto attended my efforts +against the spirit of evil in this town will not be withdrawn. +Suitable directors to assist me I have no doubt of securing. +Mr. Brooke of Tipton has already given me his concurrence, +and a pledge to contribute yearly: he has not specified the sum-- +probably not a great one. But he will be a useful member of +the board." + +A useful member was perhaps to be defined as one who would +originate nothing, and always vote with Mr. Bulstrode. + +The medical aversion to Lydgate was hardly disguised now. Neither +Dr. Sprague nor Dr. Minchin said that he disliked Lydgate's knowledge, +or his disposition to improve treatment: what they disliked was +his arrogance, which nobody felt to be altogether deniable. They implied +that he was insolent, pretentious, and given to that reckless innovation +for the sake of noise and show which was the essence of the charlatan. + +The word charlatan once thrown on the air could not be let drop. +In those days the world was agitated about the wondrous doings of +Mr. St. John Long, "noblemen and gentlemen" attesting his extraction +of a fluid like mercury from the temples of a patient. + +Mr. Toller remarked one day, smilingly, to Mrs. Taft, that "Bulstrode +had found a man to suit him in Lydgate; a charlatan in religion +is sure to like other sorts of charlatans." + +"Yes, indeed, I can imagine," said Mrs. Taft, keeping the number +of thirty stitches carefully in her mind all the while; "there are +so many of that sort. I remember Mr. Cheshire, with his irons, +trying to make people straight when the Almighty had made them crooked." + +"No, no," said Mr. Toller, "Cheshire was all right--all fair +and above board. But there's St. John Long--that's the kind of +fellow we call a charlatan, advertising cures in ways nobody knows +anything about: a fellow who wants to make a noise by pretending +to go deeper than other people. The other day he was pretending +to tap a man's brain and get quicksilver out of it." + +"Good gracious! what dreadful trifling with people's constitutions!" +said Mrs. Taft. + +After this, it came to be held in various quarters that Lydgate +played even with respectable constitutions for his own purposes, +and how much more likely that in his flighty experimenting he +should make sixes and sevens of hospital patients. Especially it +was to be expected, as the landlady of the Tankard had said, +that he would recklessly cut up their dead bodies. For Lydgate +having attended Mrs. Goby, who died apparently of a heart-disease +not very clearly expressed in the symptoms, too daringly asked +leave of her relatives to open the body, and thus gave an offence +quickly spreading beyond Parley Street, where that lady had long +resided on an income such as made this association of her body +with the victims of Burke and Hare a flagrant insult to her memory. + +Affairs were in this stage when Lydgate opened the subject of the +Hospital to Dorothea. We see that be was bearing enmity and silly +misconception with much spirit, aware that they were partly created +by his good share of success. + +"They will not drive me away," he said, talking confidentially +in Mr. Farebrother's study. "I have got a good opportunity here, +for the ends I care most about; and I am pretty sure to get +income enough for our wants. By-and-by I shall go on as quietly +as possible: I have no seductions now away from home and work. +And I am more and more convinced that it will be possible to +demonstrate the homogeneous origin of all the tissues. Raspail and +others are on the same track, and I have been losing time." + +"I have no power of prophecy there," said Mr. Farebrother, +who had been puffing at his pipe thoughtfully while Lydgate talked; +"but as to the hostility in the town, you'll weather it if you +are prudent." + +"How am I to be prudent?" said Lydgate, "I just do what comes +before me to do. I can't help people's ignorance and spite, +any more than Vesalius could. It isn't possible to square one's +conduct to silly conclusions which nobody can foresee." + +"Quite true; I didn't mean that. I meant only two things. One is, +keep yourself as separable from Bulstrode as you can: of course, +you can go on doing good work of your own by his help; but don't +get tied. Perhaps it seems like personal feeling in me to say so-- +and there's a good deal of that, I own--but personal feeling is not +always in the wrong if you boil it down to the impressions which make +it simply an opinion." + +"Bulstrode is nothing to me," said Lydgate, carelessly, "except on +public grounds. As to getting very closely united to him, I am not +fond enough of him for that. But what was the other thing you meant?" +said Lydgate, who was nursing his leg as comfortably as possible, +and feeling in no great need of advice. + +"Why, this. Take care--experto crede--take care not to get +hampered about money matters. I know, by a word you let fall one day, +that you don't like my playing at cards so much for money. You are +right enough there. But try and keep clear of wanting small sums +that you haven't got. I am perhaps talking rather superfluously; +but a man likes to assume superiority over himself, by holding up +his bad example and sermonizing on it." + +Lydgate took Mr. Farebrother's hints very cordially, though he +would hardly have borne them from another man. He could not help +remembering that he had lately made some debts, but these had +seemed inevitable, and he had no intention now to do more than +keep house in a simple way. The furniture for which he owed +would not want renewing; nor even the stock of wine for a long while. + +Many thoughts cheered him at that time--and justly. A man +conscious of enthusiasm for worthy aims is sustained under petty +hostilities by the memory of great workers who had to fight their +way not without wounds, and who hover in his mind as patron saints, +invisibly helping. At home, that same evening when he had been +chatting with Mr. Farebrother, he had his long legs stretched +on the sofa, his head thrown back, and his hands clasped behind +it according to his favorite ruminating attitude, while Rosamond +sat at the piano, and played one tune after another, of which her +husband only knew (like the emotional elephant he was!) that they +fell in with his mood as if they had been melodious sea-breezes. + +There was something very fine in Lydgate's look just then, +and any one might have been encouraged to bet on his achievement. +In his dark eyes and on his mouth and brow there was that placidity +which comes from the fulness of contemplative thought--the mind +not searching, but beholding, and the glance seeming to be filled +with what is behind it. + +Presently Rosamond left the piano and seated herself on a chair +close to the sofa and opposite her husband's face. + +"Is that enough music for you, my lord?" she said, folding her hands +before her and putting on a little air of meekness. + +"Yes, dear, if you are tired," said Lydgate, gently, turning his +eyes and resting them on her, but not otherwise moving. +Rosamond's presence at that moment was perhaps no more than a spoonful +brought to the lake, and her woman's instinct in this matter was not dull. + +"What is absorbing you?" she said, leaning forward and bringing +her face nearer to his. + +He moved his hands and placed them gently behind her shoulders. + +"I am thinking of a great fellow, who was about as old as I am +three hundred years ago, and had already begun a new era in anatomy." + +"I can't guess," said Rosamond, shaking her head. "We used to play +at guessing historical characters at Mrs. Lemon's, but not anatomists." + +"I'll tell you. His name was Vesalius. And the only way he could get +to know anatomy as he did, was by going to snatch bodies at night, +from graveyards and places of execution." + +"Oh!" said Rosamond, with a look of disgust on her pretty face, +"I am very glad you are not Vesalius. I should have thought he +might find some less horrible way than that." + +"No, he couldn't," said Lydgate, going on too earnestly to take +much notice of her answer. "He could only get a complete skeleton +by snatching the whitened bones of a criminal from the gallows, +and burying them, and fetching them away by bits secretly, in the +dead of night." + +"I hope he is not one of your great heroes," said Rosamond, +half playfully, half anxiously, "else I shall have you getting up +in the night to go to St. Peter's churchyard. You know how angry +you told me the people were about Mrs. Goby. You have enemies +enough already." + +"So had Vesalius, Rosy. No wonder the medical fogies in Middlemarch +are jealous, when some of the greatest doctors living were fierce +upon Vesalius because they had believed in Galen, and he showed +that Galen was wrong. They called him a liar and a poisonous monster. +But the facts of the human frame were on his side; and so he got +the better of them." + +"And what happened to him afterwards?" said Rosamond, with some interest. + +"Oh, he had a good deal of fighting to the last. And they did +exasperate him enough at one time to make him burn a good deal +of his work. Then he got shipwrecked just as he was coming from +Jerusalem to take a great chair at Padua. He died rather miserably." + +There was a moment's pause before Rosamond said, "Do you know, +Tertius, I often wish you had not been a medical man." + +"Nay, Rosy, don't say that," said Lydgate, drawing her closer to him. +"That is like saying you wish you had married another man." + +"Not at all; you are clever enough for anything: you might easily +have been something else. And your cousins at Quallingham all think +that you have sunk below them in your choice of a profession." + +"The cousins at Quallingham may go to the devil!" said Lydgate, +with scorn. "It was like their impudence if they said anything +of the sort to you." + +"Still," said Rosamond, "I do NOT think it is a nice profession, +dear." We know that she had much quiet perseverance in her opinion. + +"It is the grandest profession in the world, Rosamond," said Lydgate, +gravely. "And to say that you love me without loving the medical man +in me, is the same sort of thing as to say that you like eating a peach +but don't like its flavor. Don't say that again, dear, it pains me." + +"Very well, Doctor Grave-face," said Rosy, dimpling, "I will declare +in future that I dote on skeletons, and body-snatchers, and bits +of things in phials, and quarrels with everybody, that end in your +dying miserably." + +"No, no, not so bad as that," said Lydgate, giving up remonstrance +and petting her resignedly. + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +Pues no podemos haber aquello que queremos, queramos aquello +que podremos. + +Since we cannot get what we like, let us like what we can get. + --Spanish Proverb. + +While Lydgate, safely married and with the Hospital under his command, +felt himself struggling for Medical Reform against Middlemarch, +Middlemarch was becoming more and more conscious of the national +struggle for another kind of Reform. + +By the time that Lord John Russell's measure was being debated +in the House of Commons, there was a new political animation +in Middlemarch, and a new definition of parties which might show +a decided change of balance if a new election came. And there +were some who already predicted this event, declaring that a +Reform Bill would never be carried by the actual Parliament. +This was what Will Ladislaw dwelt on to Mr. Brooke as a reason +for congratulation that he had not yet tried his strength at the hustings. + +"Things will grow and ripen as if it were a comet year," said Will. +"The public temper will soon get to a cometary heat, now the question +of Reform has set in. There is likely to be another election before long, +and by that time Middlemarch will have got more ideas into its head. +What we have to work at now is the `Pioneer' and political meetings." + +"Quite right, Ladislaw; we shall make a new thing of opinion here," +said Mr. Brooke. "Only I want to keep myself independent +about Reform, you know; I don't want to go too far. I want +to take up. Wilberforce's and Romilly's line, you know, +and work at Negro Emancipation, Criminal Law--that kind of thing. +But of course I should support Grey." + +"If you go in for the principle of Reform, you must be prepared +to take what the situation offers," said Will. "If everybody +pulled for his own bit against everybody else, the whole question +would go to tatters." + +"Yes, yes, I agree with you--I quite take that point of view. +I should put it in that light. I should support Grey, you know. +But I don't want to change the balance of the constitution, and I don't +think Grey would." + +"But that is what the country wants,"-said Will. "Else there would +be no meaning in political unions or any other movement that knows +what it's about. It wants to have a House of Commons which is not +weighted with nominees of the landed class, but with representatives +of the other interests. And as to contending for a reform short +of that, it is like asking for a bit of an avalanche which has +already begun to thunder." + +"That is fine, Ladislaw: that is the way to put it. Write that +down, now. We must begin to get documents about the feeling +of the country, as well as the machine-breaking and general distress." + +"As to documents," said Will, "a two-inch card will hold plenty. +A few rows of figures are enough to deduce misery from, and a few +more will show the rate at which the political determination of the +people is growing." + +"Good: draw that out a little more at length, Ladislaw. That is +an idea, now: write it out in the `Pioneer.' Put the figures and +deduce the misery, you know; and put the other figures and deduce-- +and so on. You have a way of putting things. Burke, now:--when I +think of Burke, I can't help wishing somebody had a pocket-borough +to give you, Ladislaw. You'd never get elected, you know. +And we shall always want talent in the House: reform as we will, +we shall always want talent. That avalanche and the thunder, now, +was really a little like Burke. I want that sort of thing--not ideas, +you know, but a way of putting them." + +"Pocket-boroughs would be a fine thing," said Ladislaw, "if they +were always in the right pocket, and there were always a Burke +at hand." + +Will was not displeased with that complimentary comparison, +even from Mr. Brooke; for it is a little too trying to human flesh +to be conscious of expressing one's self better than others and +never to have it noticed, and in the general dearth of admiration +for the right thing, even a chance bray of applause falling +exactly in time is rather fortifying. Will felt that his literary +refinements were usually beyond the limits of Middlemarch perception; +nevertheless, he was beginning thoroughly to like the work +of which when he began he had said to himself rather languidly, +"Why not?"--and he studied the political situation with as ardent +an interest as he had ever given to poetic metres or mediaevalism. +It is undeniable that but for the desire to be where Dorothea was, +and perhaps the want of knowing what else to do, Will would not +at this time have been meditating on the needs of the English +people or criticising English statesmanship: he would probably +have been rambling in Italy sketching plans for several dramas, +trying prose and finding it too jejune, trying verse and finding +it too artificial, beginning to copy "bits" from old pictures, +leaving off because they were "no good," and observing that, after all, +self-culture was the principal point; while in politics he would +have been sympathizing warmly with liberty and progress in general. +Our sense of duty must often wait for some work which shall take +the place of dilettanteism and make us feel that the quality +of our action is not a matter of indifference. + +Ladislaw had now accepted his bit of work, though it was not that +indeterminate loftiest thing which he had once dreamed of as alone +worthy of continuous effort. His nature warmed easily in the presence +of subjects which were visibly mixed with life and action, and the +easily stirred rebellion in him helped the glow of public spirit. +In spite of Mr. Casaubon and the banishment from Lowick, he was +rather happy; getting a great deal of fresh knowledge in a vivid +way and for practical purposes, and making the "Pioneer" celebrated +as far as Brassing (never mind the smallness of the area; the writing +was not worse than much that reaches the four corners of the earth). + +Mr. Brooke was occasionally irritating; but Will's impatience was +relieved by the division of his time between visits to the Grange +and retreats to his Middlemarch lodgings, which gave variety +to his life. + +"Shift the pegs a little," he said to himself, "and Mr. Brooke +might be in the Cabinet, while I was Under-Secretary. That is +the common order of things: the little waves make the large ones +and are of the same pattern. I am better here than in the sort +of life Mr. Casaubon would have trained me for, where the doing would +be all laid down by a precedent too rigid for me to react upon. +I don't care for prestige or high pay." + +As Lydgate had said of him, he was a sort of gypsy, rather enjoying +the sense of belonging to no class; he had a feeling of romance +in his position, and a pleasant consciousness of creating a little +surprise wherever he went. That sort of enjoyment had been disturbed +when he had felt some new distance between himself and Dorothea +in their accidental meeting at Lydgate's, and his irritation had gone +out towards Mr. Casaubon, who had declared beforehand that Will +would lose caste. "I never had any caste," he would have said, +if that prophecy had been uttered to him, and the quick blood +would have come and gone like breath in his transparent skin. +But it is one thing to like defiance, and another thing to like +its consequences. + +Meanwhile, the town opinion about the new editor of the "Pioneer" +was tending to confirm Mr. Casaubon's view. Will's relationship in +that distinguished quarter did not, like Lydgate's high connections, +serve as an advantageous introduction: if it was rumored that young +Ladislaw was Mr. Casaubon's nephew or cousin, it was also rumored +that "Mr. Casaubon would have nothing to do with him." + +"Brooke has taken him up," said Mr. Hawley, "because that is what +no man in his senses could have expected. Casaubon has devilish +good reasons, you may be sure, for turning the cold shoulder on +a young fellow whose bringing-up he paid for. Just like Brooke-- +one of those fellows who would praise a cat to sell a horse." + +And some oddities of Will's, more or less poetical, appeared to support +Mr. Keck, the editor of the "Trumpet," in asserting that Ladislaw, +if the truth were known, was not only a Polish emissary but crack-brained, +which accounted for the preternatural quickness and glibness of his +speech when he got on to a platform--as he did whenever he had +an opportunity, speaking with a facility which cast reflections on +solid Englishmen generally. It was disgusting to Keck to see a strip +of a fellow, with light curls round his head, get up and speechify +by the hour against institutions "which had existed when he was +in his cradle." And in a leading article of the "Trumpet," Keck +characterized Ladislaw's speech at a Reform meeting as "the violence +of an energumen--a miserable effort to shroud in the brilliancy +of fireworks the daring of irresponsible statements and the poverty +of a knowledge which was of the cheapest and most recent description." + +"That was a rattling article yesterday, Keck," said Dr. Sprague, +with sarcastic intentions. "But what is an energumen?" + +"Oh, a term that came up in the French Revolution," said Keck. + +This dangerous aspect of Ladislaw was strangely contrasted with +other habits which became matter of remark. He had a fondness, +half artistic, half affectionate, for little children--the smaller +they were on tolerably active legs, and the funnier their clothing, +the better Will liked to surprise and please them. We know +that in Rome he was given to ramble about among the poor people, +and the taste did not quit him in Middlemarch. + +He had somehow picked up a troop of droll children, little hatless +boys with their galligaskins much worn and scant shirting to hang out, +little girls who tossed their hair out of their eyes to look at him, +and guardian brothers at the mature age of seven. This troop he +had led out on gypsy excursions to Halsell Wood at nutting-time, +and since the cold weather had set in he had taken them on a clear +day to gather sticks for a bonfire in the hollow of a hillside, +where he drew out a small feast of gingerbread for them, and improvised +a Punch-and-Judy drama with some private home-made puppets. +Here was one oddity. Another was, that in houses where he +got friendly, he was given to stretch himself at full length on the +rug while he talked, and was apt to be discovered in this attitude +by occasional callers for whom such an irregularity was likely +to confirm the notions of his dangerously mixed blood and general laxity. + +But Will's articles and speeches naturally recommended him in +families which the new strictness of party division had marked +off on the side of Reform. He was invited to Mr. Bulstrode's; +but here he could not lie down on the rug, and Mrs. Bulstrode felt +that his mode of talking about Catholic countries, as if there +were any truce with Antichrist, illustrated the usual tendency +to unsoundness in intellectual men. + +At Mr. Farebrother's, however, whom the irony of events had brought +on the same side with Bulstrode in the national movement, Will became +a favorite with the ladies; especially with little Miss Noble, +whom it was one of his oddities to escort when he met her in the +street with her little basket, giving her his arm in the eyes of +the town, and insisting on going with her to pay some call where she +distributed her small filchings from her own share of sweet things. + +But the house where he visited oftenest and lay most on the rug +was Lydgate's. The two men were not at all alike, but they +agreed none the worse. Lydgate was abrupt but not irritable, +taking little notice of megrims in healthy people; and Ladislaw +did not usually throw away his susceptibilities on those who took +no notice of them. With Rosamond, on the other hand, he pouted and +was wayward--nay, often uncomplimentary, much to her inward surprise; +nevertheless he was gradually becoming necessary to her entertainment +by his companionship in her music, his varied talk, and his +freedom from the grave preoccupation which, with all her husband's +tenderness and indulgence, often made his manners unsatisfactory +to her, and confirmed her dislike of the medical profession. + +Lydgate, inclined to be sarcastic on the superstitious faith of the people +in the efficacy of "the bill," while nobody cared about the low state +of pathology, sometimes assailed Will with troublesome questions. +One evening in March, Rosamond in her cherry-colored dress with +swansdown trimming about the throat sat at the tea-table; Lydgate, +lately come in tired from his outdoor work, was seated sideways +on an easy-chair by the fire with one leg over the elbow, his brow +looking a little troubled as his eyes rambled over the columns of +the "Pioneer," while Rosamond, having noticed that he was perturbed, +avoided looking at him, and inwardly thanked heaven that she herself +had not a moody disposition. Will Ladislaw was stretched on the rug +contemplating the curtain-pole abstractedly, and humming very low +the notes of "When first I saw thy face;" while the house spaniel, +also stretched out with small choice of room, looked from between +his paws at the usurper of the rug with silent but strong objection. + +Rosamond bringing Lydgate his cup of tea, he threw down the paper, +and said to Will, who had started up and gone to the table-- + +"It's no use your puffing Brooke as a reforming landlord, Ladislaw: +they only pick the more holes in his coat in the `Trumpet.'" + +"No matter; those who read the `Pioneer' don't read the `Trumpet,'" +said Will, swallowing his tea and walking about. "Do you suppose the +public reads with a view to its own conversion? We should have a witches' +brewing with a vengeance then--`Mingle, mingle, mingle, mingle, You +that mingle may'--and nobody would know which side he was going to take." + +"Farebrother says, he doesn't believe Brooke would get elected +if the opportunity came: the very men who profess to be for him +would bring another member out of the bag at the right moment." + +"There's no harm in trying. It's good to have resident members." + +"Why?" said Lydgate, who was much given to use that inconvenient +word in a curt tone. + +"They represent the local stupidity better," said Will, +laughing, and shaking his curls; "and they are kept +on their best behavior in the neighborhood. Brooke is +not a bad fellow, but he has done some good things on +his estate that he never would have done but for this Parliamentary bite." + +"He's not fitted to be a public man," said Lydgate, +with contemptuous decision. "He would disappoint everybody +who counted on him: I can see that at the Hospital. +Only, there Bulstrode holds the reins and drives him." + +"That depends on how you fix your standard of public men," said Will. +"He's good enough for the occasion: when the people have made up +their mind as they are making it up now, they don't want a man-- +they only want a vote." + +"That is the way with you political writers, Ladislaw--crying up +a measure as if it were a universal cure, and crying up men +who are a part of the very disease that wants curing." + +"Why not? Men may help to cure themselves off the face of the land +without knowing it," said Will, who could find reasons impromptu, +when he had not thought of a question beforehand. + +"That is no excuse for encouraging the superstitious exaggeration +of hopes about this particular measure, helping the cry to swallow +it whole and to send up voting popinjays who are good for nothing +but to carry it. You go against rottenness, and there is nothing +more thoroughly rotten than making people believe that society can +be cured by a political hocus-pocus." + +"That's very fine, my dear fellow. But your cure must begin somewhere, +and put it that a thousand things which debase a population can +never be reformed without this particular reform to begin with. +Look what Stanley said the other day--that the House had been +tinkering long enough at small questions of bribery, inquiring whether +this or that voter has had a guinea when everybody knows that the +seats have been sold wholesale. Wait for wisdom and conscience +in public agents--fiddlestick! The only conscience we can trust +to is the massive sense of wrong in a class, and the best wisdom +that will work is the wisdom of balancing claims. That's my text-- +which side is injured? I support the man who supports their claims; +not the virtuous upholder of the wrong." + +"That general talk about a particular case is mere question +begging, Ladislaw. When I say, I go in for the dose that cures, +it doesn't follow that I go in for opium in a given case of gout." + +"I am not begging the question we are upon--whether we are +to try for nothing till we find immaculate men to work with. +Should you go on that plan? If there were one man who would carry +you a medical reform and another who would oppose it, should you +inquire which had the better motives or even the better brains?" + +"Oh, of course," said Lydgate, seeing himself checkmated by a move +which he had often used himself, "if one did not work with such men +as are at hand, things must come to a dead-lock. Suppose the worst +opinion in the town about Bulstrode were a true one, that would +not make it less true that he has the sense and the resolution +to do what I think ought to be done in the matters I know and care +most about; but that is the only ground on which I go with him," +Lydgate added rather proudly, bearing in mind Mr. Farebrother's remarks. +"He is nothing to me otherwise; I would not cry him up on any +personal ground--I would keep clear of that." + +"Do you mean that I cry up Brooke on any personal ground?" said Will +Ladislaw, nettled, and turning sharp round. For the first time he felt +offended with Lydgate; not the less so, perhaps, because he would have +declined any close inquiry into the growth of his relation to Mr. Brooke. + +"Not at all," said Lydgate, "I was simply explaining my own action. +I meant that a man may work for a special end with others whose +motives and general course are equivocal, if he is quite sure +of his personal independence, and that he is not working for his +private interest--either place or money." + +"Then, why don't you extend your liberality to others?" said Will, +still nettled. "My personal independence is as important to me as yours +is to you. You have no more reason to imagine that I have personal +expectations from Brooke, than I have to imagine that you have personal +expectations from Bulstrode. Motives are points of honor, I suppose-- +nobody can prove them. But as to money and place in the world." +Will ended, tossing back his head, "I think it is pretty clear +that I am not determined by considerations of that sort." + +"You quite mistake me, Ladislaw," said Lydgate, surprised. He had +been preoccupied with his own vindication, and had been blind +to what Ladislaw might infer on his own account. "I beg your +pardon for unintentionally annoying you. In fact, I should rather +attribute to you a romantic disregard of your own worldly interests. +On the political question, I referred simply to intellectual bias." + +"How very unpleasant you both are this evening!" said Rosamond. +"I cannot conceive why money should have been referred to. +Polities and Medicine are sufficiently disagreeable to quarrel upon. +You can both of you go on quarrelling with all the world and with each +other on those two topics." + +Rosamond looked mildly neutral as she said this, rising to ring +the bell, and then crossing to her work-table. + +"Poor Rosy!" said Lydgate, putting out his hand to her as she +was passing him. "Disputation is not amusing to cherubs. +Have some music. Ask Ladislaw to sing with you." + +When Will was gone Rosamond said to her husband, "What put you +out of temper this evening, Tertius?" + +"Me? It was Ladislaw who was out of temper. He is like a bit +of tinder." + +"But I mean, before that. Something had vexed you before you came in, +you looked cross. And that made you begin to dispute with Mr. Ladislaw. +You hurt me very much when you look so, Tertius." + +"Do I? Then I am a brute," said Lydgate, caressing her penitently. + +"What vexed you?" + +"Oh, outdoor things--business." It was really a letter insisting +on the payment of a bill for furniture. But Rosamond was expecting +to have a baby, and Lydgate wished to save her from any perturbation. + +CHAPTER XLVII. + + Was never true love loved in vain, + For truest love is highest gain. + No art can make it: it must spring + Where elements are fostering. + So in heaven's spot and hour + Springs the little native flower, + Downward root and upward eye, + Shapen by the earth and sky. + +It happened to be on a Saturday evening that Will Ladislaw had that +little discussion with Lydgate. Its effect when he went to his own +rooms was to make him sit up half the night, thinking over again, +under a new irritation, all that he had before thought of his having +settled in Middlemarch and harnessed himself with Mr. Brooke. +Hesitations before he had taken the step had since turned into +susceptibility to every hint that he would have been wiser not +to take it; and hence came his heat towards Lydgate--a heat which +still kept him restless. Was he not making a fool of himself?-- +and at a time when he was more than ever conscious of being something +better than a fool? And for what end? + +Well, for no definite end. True, he had dreamy visions of possibilities: +there is no human being who having both passions and thoughts does +not think in consequence of his passions--does not find images rising +in his mind which soothe the passion with hope or sting it with dread. +But this, which happens to us all, happens to some with a wide difference; +and Will was not one of those whose wit "keeps the roadway:" +he had his bypaths where there were little joys of his own choosing, +such as gentlemen cantering on the highroad might have thought +rather idiotic. The way in which he made a sort of happiness for +himself out of his feeling for Dorothea was an example of this. +It may seem strange, but it is the fact, that the ordinary vulgar +vision of which Mr. Casaubon suspected him--namely, that Dorothea +might become a widow, and that the interest he had established +in her mind might turn into acceptance of him as a husband-- +had no tempting, arresting power over him; he did not live +in the scenery of such an event, and follow it out, as we all do +with that imagined "otherwise" which is our practical heaven. +It was not only that he was unwilling to entertain thoughts which +could be accused of baseness, and was already uneasy in the sense +that he had to justify himself from the charge of ingratitude-- +the latent consciousness of many other barriers between himself +and Dorothea besides the existence of her husband, had helped +to turn away his imagination from speculating on what might befall +Mr. Casaubon. And there were yet other reasons. Will, we know, +could not bear the thought of any flaw appearing in his crystal: +he was at once exasperated and delighted by the calm freedom +with which Dorothea looked at him and spoke to him, and there +was something so exquisite in thinking of her just as she was, +that he could not long for a change which must somehow change her. +Do we not shun the street version of a fine melody?--or shrink from +the news that the rarity--some bit of chiselling or engraving perhaps-- +which we have dwelt on even with exultation in the trouble it has +cost us to snatch glimpses of it, is really not an uncommon thing, +and may be obtained as an every-day possession? Our good depends +on the quality and breadth of our emotion; and to Will, a creature +who cared little for what are called the solid things of life and +greatly for its subtler influences, to have within him such a feeling +as he had towards Dorothea, was like the inheritance of a fortune. +What others might have called the futility of his passion, made an +additional delight for his imagination: he was conscious of a +generous movement, and of verifying in his own experience that higher +love-poetry which had charmed his fancy. Dorothea, he said to himself, +was forever enthroned in his soul: no other woman could sit higher +than her footstool; and if he could have written out in immortal +syllables the effect she wrought within him, he might have boasted +after the example of old Drayton, that,-- + + "Queens hereafter might be glad to live + Upon the alms of her superfluous praise." + +But this result was questionable. And what else could he do +for Dorothea? What was his devotion worth to her? It was impossible +to tell. He would not go out of her reach. He saw no creature among +her friends to whom he could believe that she spoke with the same simple +confidence as to him. She had once said that she would like him to stay; +and stay he would, whatever fire-breathing dragons might hiss around her. + +This had always been the conclusion of Will's hesitations. +But he was not without contradictoriness and rebellion even towards +his own resolve. He had often got irritated, as he was on this +particular night, by some outside demonstration that his public +exertions with Mr. Brooke as a chief could not seem as heroic +as he would like them to be, and this was always associated with +the other ground of irritation--that notwithstanding his sacrifice +of dignity for Dorothea's sake, he could hardly ever see her. +Whereupon, not being able to contradict these unpleasant facts, +he contradicted his own strongest bias and said, "I am a fool." + +Nevertheless, since the inward debate necessarily turned on Dorothea, +he ended, as he had done before, only by getting a livelier sense +of what her presence would be to him; and suddenly reflecting that +the morrow would be Sunday, he determined to go to Lowick Church +and see her. He slept upon that idea, but when he was dressing +in the rational morning light, Objection said-- + +"That will be a virtual defiance of Mr. Casaubon's prohibition +to visit Lowick, and Dorothea will be displeased." + +"Nonsense!" argued Inclination, "it would be too monstrous +for him to hinder me from going out to a pretty country church +on a spring morning. And Dorothea will be glad." + +"It will be clear to Mr. Casaubon that you have come either to annoy +him or to see Dorothea." + +"It is not true that I go to annoy him, and why should I not go +to see Dorothea? Is he to have everything to himself and be +always comfortable? Let him smart a little, as other people are +obliged to do. I have always liked the quaintness of the church and +congregation; besides, I know the Tuckers: I shall go into their pew." + +Having silenced Objection by force of unreason, Will walked to +Lowick as if he had been on the way to Paradise, crossing Halsell +Common and skirting the wood, where the sunlight fell broadly under +the budding boughs, bringing out the beauties of moss and lichen, +and fresh green growths piercing the brown. Everything seemed to know +that it was Sunday, and to approve of his going to Lowick Church. +Will easily felt happy when nothing crossed his humor, and by this +time the thought of vexing Mr. Casaubon had become rather amusing +to him, making his face break into its merry smile, pleasant to see +as the breaking of sunshine on the water--though the occasion was +not exemplary. But most of us are apt to settle within ourselves +that the man who blocks our way is odious, and not to mind +causing him a little of the disgust which his personality excites +in ourselves. Will went along with a small book under his arm and +a hand in each side-pocket, never reading, but chanting a little, +as he made scenes of what would happen in church and coming out. +He was experimenting in tunes to suit some words of his own, +sometimes trying a ready-made melody, sometimes improvising. +The words were not exactly a hymn, but they certainly fitted his +Sunday experience:-- + + "O me, O me, what frugal cheer + My love doth feed upon! + A touch, a ray, that is not here, + A shadow that is gone: + + "A dream of breath that might be near, + An inly-echoed tone, + The thought that one may think me dear, + The place where one was known, + + "The tremor of a banished fear, + An ill that was not done-- + O me, O me, what frugal cheer + My love doth feed upon!" + +Sometimes, when he took off his hat, shaking his head backward, +and showing his delicate throat as he sang, he looked like an incarnation +of the spring whose spirit filled the air--a bright creature, +abundant in uncertain promises. + +The bells were still ringing when he got to Lowick, and he went into +the curate's pew before any one else arrived there. But he was still +left alone in it when the congregation had assembled. The curate's +pew was opposite the rector's at the entrance of the small chancel, +and Will had time to fear that Dorothea might not come while he +looked round at the group of rural faces which made the congregation +from year to year within the white-washed walls and dark old pews, +hardly with more change than we see in the boughs of a tree +which breaks here and there with age, but yet has young shoots. +Mr. Rigg's frog-face was something alien and unaccountable, +but notwithstanding this shock to the order of things, there were +still the Waules and the rural stock of the Powderells in their +pews side by side; brother Samuel's cheek had the same purple +round as ever, and the three generations of decent cottagers +came as of old with a sense of duty to their betters generally-- +the smaller children regarding Mr. Casaubon, who wore the black gown +and mounted to the highest box, as probably the chief of all betters, +and the one most awful if offended. Even in 1831 Lowick was +at peace, not more agitated by Reform than by the solemn tenor +of the Sunday sermon. The congregation had been used to seeing +Will at church in former days, and no one took much note of him +except the choir, who expected him to make a figure in the singing. + +Dorothea did at last appear on this quaint background, walking up +the short aisle in her white beaver bonnet and gray cloak--the same +she had worn in the Vatican. Her face being, from her entrance, +towards the chancel, even her shortsighted eyes soon discerned Will, +but there was no outward show of her feeling except a slight +paleness and a grave bow as she passed him. To his own surprise +Will felt suddenly uncomfortable, and dared not look at her after +they had bowed to each other. Two minutes later, when Mr. Casaubon +came out of the vestry, and, entering the pew, seated himself +in face of Dorothea, Will felt his paralysis more complete. +He could look nowhere except at the choir in the little gallery +over the vestry-door: Dorothea was perhaps pained, and he had made +a wretched blunder. It was no longer amusing to vex Mr. Casaubon, +who had the advantage probably of watching him and seeing that he +dared not turn his head. Why had he not imagined this beforehand?-- +but he could not expect that he should sit in that square +pew alone, unrelieved by any Tuckers, who had apparently departed +from Lowick altogether, for a new clergyman was in the desk. +Still he called himself stupid now for not foreseeing that it would +be impossible for him to look towards Dorothea--nay, that she +might feel his coming an impertinence. There was no delivering +himself from his cage, however; and Will found his places and looked +at his book as if he had been a school-mistress, feeling that +the morning service had never been so immeasurably long before, +that he was utterly ridiculous, out of temper, and miserable. +This was what a man got by worshipping the sight of a woman! +The clerk observed with surprise that Mr. Ladislaw did not join in +the tune of Hanover, and reflected that he might have a cold. + +Mr. Casaubon did not preach that morning, and there was no change +in Will's situation until the blessing had been pronounced and +every one rose. It was the fashion at Lowick for "the betters" +to go out first. With a sudden determination to break the spell +that was upon him, Will looked straight at Mr. Casaubon. But that +gentleman's eyes were on the button of the pew-door, which he opened, +allowing Dorothea to pass, and following her immediately without +raising his eyelids. Will's glance had caught Dorothea's as she +turned out of the pew, and again she bowed, but this time with a +look of agitation, as if she were repressing tears. Will walked +out after them, but they went on towards the little gate leading +out of the churchyard into the shrubbery, never looking round. + +It was impossible for him to follow them, and he could only walk +back sadly at mid-day along the same road which he had trodden +hopefully in the morning. The lights were all changed for him +both without and within. + +CHAPTER XLVIII + + Surely the golden hours are turning gray + And dance no more, and vainly strive to run: + I see their white locks streaming in the wind-- + Each face is haggard as it looks at me, + Slow turning in the constant clasping round + Storm-driven. + +Dorothea's distress when she was leaving the church came chiefly +from the perception that Mr. Casaubon was determined not to speak +to his cousin, and that Will's presence at church had served +to mark more strongly the alienation between them. Will's coming +seemed to her quite excusable, nay, she thought it an amiable +movement in him towards a reconciliation which she herself had been +constantly wishing for. He had probably imagined, as she had, +that if Mr. Casaubon and he could meet easily, they would shake +hands and friendly intercourse might return. But now Dorothea felt +quite robbed of that hope. Will was banished further than ever, +for Mr. Casaubon must have been newly embittered by this thrusting +upon him of a presence which he refused to recognize. + +He had not been very well that morning, suffering from some +difficulty in breathing, and had not preached in consequence; +she was not surprised, therefore, that he was nearly silent +at luncheon, still less that he made no allusion to Will Ladislaw. +For her own part she felt that she could never again introduce +that subject. They usually spent apart the hours between luncheon +and dinner on a Sunday; Mr. Casaubon in the library dozing chiefly, +and Dorothea in her boudoir, where she was wont to occupy +herself with some of her favorite books. There was a little +heap of them on the table in the bow-window--of various sorts, +from Herodotus, which she was learning to read with Mr. Casaubon, +to her old companion Pascal, and Keble's "Christian Year." +But to-day opened one after another, and could read none of them. +Everything seemed dreary: the portents before the birth of Cyrus-- +Jewish antiquities--oh dear!--devout epigrams--the sacred chime +of favorite hymns--all alike were as flat as tunes beaten on wood: +even the spring flowers and the grass had a dull shiver in them +under the afternoon clouds that hid the sun fitfully; even the +sustaining thoughts which had become habits seemed to have in them +the weariness of long future days in which she would still live +with them for her sole companions. It was another or rather a +fuller sort of companionship that poor Dorothea was hungering for, +and the hunger had grown from the perpetual effort demanded by her +married life. She was always trying to be what her husband wished, +and never able to repose on his delight in what she was. The thing +that she liked, that she spontaneously cared to have, seemed to be +always excluded from her life; for if it was only granted and not +shared by her husband it might as well have been denied. About Will +Ladislaw there had been a difference between them from the first, +and it had ended, since Mr. Casaubon had so severely repulsed +Dorothea's strong feeling about his claims on the family property, +by her being convinced that she was in the right and her husband +in the wrong, but that she was helpless. This afternoon the +helplessness was more wretchedly benumbing than ever: she longed +for objects who could be dear to her, and to whom she could be dear. +She longed for work which would be directly beneficent like the +sunshine and the rain, and now it appeared that she was to live +more and more in a virtual tomb, where there was the apparatus +of a ghastly labor producing what would never see the light. +Today she had stood at the door of the tomb and seen Will Ladislaw +receding into the distant world of warm activity and fellowship-- +turning his face towards her as he went. + +Books were of no use. Thinking was of no use. It was Sunday, and she +could not have the carriage to go to Celia, who had lately had a baby. +There was no refuge now from spiritual emptiness and discontent, +and Dorothea had to bear her bad mood, as she would have borne +a headache. + +After dinner, at the hour when she usually began to read aloud, +Mr. Casaubon proposed that they should go into the library, where, +he said, he had ordered a fire and lights. He seemed to have revived, +and to be thinking intently. + +In the library Dorothea observed that he had newly arranged a row +of his note-books on a table, and now he took up and put into her hand +a well-known volume, which was a table of contents to all the others. + +"You will oblige me, my dear," he said, seating himself, "if instead +of other reading this evening, you will go through this aloud, +pencil in hand, and at each point where I say `mark,' will make a +cross with your pencil. This is the first step in a sifting process +which I have long had in view, and as we go on I shall be able +to indicate to you certain principles of selection whereby you will, +I trust, have an intelligent participation in my purpose." + +This proposal was only one more sign added to many since his +memorable interview with Lydgate, that Mr. Casaubon's original +reluctance to let Dorothea work with him had given place to the +contrary disposition, namely, to demand much interest and labor from her. + +After she had read and marked for two hours, he said, "We will +take the volume up-stairs--and the pencil, if you please-- +and in case of reading in the night, we can pursue this task. +It is not wearisome to you, I trust, Dorothea?" + +"I prefer always reading what you like best to hear," said Dorothea, +who told the simple truth; for what she dreaded was to exert herself +in reading or anything else which left him as joyless as ever. + +It was a proof of the force with which certain characteristics +in Dorothea impressed those around her, that her husband, +with all his jealousy and suspicion, had gathered implicit trust +in the integrity of her promises, and her power of devoting herself +to her idea of the right and best. Of late he had begun to feel +that these qualities were a peculiar possession for himself, +and he wanted to engross them. + +The reading in the night did come. Dorothea in her young weariness +had slept soon and fast: she was awakened by a sense of light, +which seemed to her at first like a sudden vision of sunset after +she had climbed a steep hill: she opened her eyes and saw her +husband wrapped in his warm gown seating himself in the arm-chair +near the fire-place where the embers were still glowing. +He had lit two candles, expecting that Dorothea would awake, +but not liking to rouse her by more direct means. + +"Are you ill, Edward?" she said, rising immediately. + +"I felt some uneasiness in a reclining posture. I will sit here +for a time." She threw wood on the fire, wrapped herself up, +and said, "You would like me to read to you?" + +"You would oblige me greatly by doing so, Dorothea," said Mr. Casaubon, +with a shade more meekness than usual in his polite manner. +"I am wakeful: my mind is remarkably lucid." + +"I fear that the excitement may be too great for you," said Dorothea, +remembering Lydgate's cautions. + +"No, I am not conscious of undue excitement. Thought is easy." +Dorothea dared not insist, and she read for an hour or more on +the same plan as she had done in the evening, but getting over +the pages with more quickness. Mr. Casaubon's mind was more alert, +and he seemed to anticipate what was coming after a very slight +verbal indication, saying, "That will do--mark that"--or "Pass +on to the next head--I omit the second excursus on Crete." +Dorothea was amazed to think of the bird-like speed with which his +mind was surveying the ground where it had been creeping for years. +At last he said-- + +"Close the book now, my dear. We will resume our work to-morrow. +I have deferred it too long, and would gladly see it completed. +But you observe that the principle on which my selection is made, +is to give adequate, and not disproportionate illustration to each +of the theses enumerated in my introduction, as at present sketched. +You have perceived that distinctly, Dorothea?" + +"Yes," said Dorothea, rather tremulously. She felt sick at heart. + +"And now I think that I can take some repose," said Mr. Casaubon. +He laid down again and begged her to put out the lights. When she +had lain down too, and there was a darkness only broken by a dull +glow on the hearth, he said-- + +"Before I sleep, I have a request to make, Dorothea." + +"What is it?" said Dorothea, with dread in her mind. + +"It is that you will let me know, deliberately, whether, in case +of my death, you will carry out my wishes: whether you will avoid +doing what I should deprecate, and apply yourself to do what I +should desire." + +Dorothea was not taken by surprise: many incidents had been leading +her to the conjecture of some intention on her husband's part +which might make a new yoke for her. She did not answer immediately. + +"You refuse?" said Mr. Casaubon, with more edge in his tone. + +"No, I do not yet refuse," said Dorothea, in a clear voice, the need +of freedom asserting itself within her; "but it is too solemn-- +I think it is not right--to make a promise when I am ignorant +what it will bind me to. Whatever affection prompted I would do +without promising." + +"But you would use your own judgment: I ask you to obey mine; +you refuse." + +"No, dear, no!" said Dorothea, beseechingly, crushed by opposing fears. +"But may I wait and reflect a little while? I desire with my whole soul +to do what will comfort you; but I cannot give any pledge suddenly-- +still less a pledge to do I know not what." + +"You cannot then confide in the nature of my wishes?" + +"Grant me till to-morrow," said Dorothea, beseechingly. + +"Till to-morrow then," said Mr. Casaubon. + +Soon she could hear that he was sleeping, but there was no more +sleep for her. While she constrained herself to lie still lest she +should disturb him, her mind was carrying on a conflict in which +imagination ranged its forces first on one side and then on the other. +She had no presentiment that the power which her husband wished +to establish over her future action had relation to anything else +than his work. But it was clear enough to her that he would expect +her to devote herself to sifting those mixed heaps of material, +which were to be the doubtful illustration of principles still +more doubtful. The poor child had become altogether unbelieving +as to the trustworthiness of that Key which had made the ambition +and the labor of her husband's life. It was not wonderful that, +in spite of her small instruction, her judgment in this matter was +truer than his: for she looked with unbiassed comparison and +healthy sense at probabilities on which he had risked all his egoism. +And now she pictured to herself the days, and months, and years which +she must spend in sorting what might be called shattered mummies, +and fragments of a tradition which was itself a mosaic wrought from +crushed ruins--sorting them as food for a theory which was already +withered in the birth like an elfin child. Doubtless a vigorous +error vigorously pursued has kept the embryos of truth a-breathing: +the quest of gold being at the same time a questioning of substances, +the body of chemistry is prepared for its soul, and Lavoisier is born. +But Mr. Casaubon's theory of the elements which made the seed of all +tradition was not likely to bruise itself unawares against discoveries: +it floated among flexible conjectures no more solid than those +etymologies which seemed strong because of likeness in sound until +it was shown that likeness in sound made them impossible: it was +a method of interpretation which was not tested by the necessity +of forming anything which had sharper collisions than an elaborate +notion of Gog and Magog: it was as free from interruption as a +plan for threading the stars together. And Dorothea had so often +had to check her weariness and impatience over this questionable +riddle-guessing, as it revealed itself to her instead of the +fellowship in high knowledge which was to make life worthier! +She could understand well enough now why her husband had come +to cling to her, as possibly the only hope left that his labors +would ever take a shape in which they could be given to the world. +At first it had seemed that he wished to keep even her aloof from +any close knowledge of what he was doing; but gradually the terrible +stringency of human need--the prospect of a too speedy death-- + +And here Dorothea's pity turned from her own future to her +husband's past--nay, to his present hard struggle with a lot which had +grown out of that past: the lonely labor, the ambition breathing +hardly under the pressure of self-distrust; the goal receding, +and the heavier limbs; and now at last the sword visibly trembling +above him! And had she not wished to marry him that she might help +him in his life's labor?--But she had thought the work was to be +something greater, which she could serve in devoutly for its own sake. +Was it right, even to soothe his grief--would it be possible, +even if she promised--to work as in a treadmill fruitlessly? + +And yet, could she deny him? Could she say, "I refuse to content +this pining hunger?" It would be refusing to do for him dead, +what she was almost sure to do for him living. If he lived +as Lydgate had said he might, for fifteen years or more, her life +would certainly be spent in helping him and obeying him. + +Still, there was a deep difference between that devotion to the +living and that indefinite promise of devotion to the dead. +While he lived, he could claim nothing that she would not still +be free to remonstrate against, and even to refuse. But-- +the thought passed through her mind more than once, though she +could not believe in it--might he not mean to demand something +more from her than she had been able to imagine, since he wanted +her pledge to carry out his wishes without telling her exactly +what they were? No; his heart was bound up in his work only: +that was the end for which his failing life was to be eked out by hers. + +And now, if she were to say, "No! if you die, I will put no finger +to your work"--it seemed as if she would be crushing that bruised heart. + +For four hours Dorothea lay in this conflict, till she felt ill +and bewildered, unable to resolve, praying mutely. Helpless as a +child which has sobbed and sought too long, she fell into a late +morning sleep, and when she waked Mr. Casaubon was already up. +Tantripp told her that he had read prayers, breakfasted, and was +in the library. + +"I never saw you look so pale, madam," said Tantripp, a solid-figured +woman who had been with the sisters at Lausanne. + +"Was I ever high-colored, Tantripp?" said Dorothea, smiling faintly. + +"Well, not to say high-colored, but with a bloom like a Chiny rose. +But always smelling those leather books, what can be expected? +Do rest a little this morning, madam. Let me say you are ill and not +able to go into that close library." + +"Oh no, no! let me make haste," said Dorothea. "Mr. Casaubon wants +me particularly." + +When she went down she felt sure that she should promise to fulfil +his wishes; but that would be later in the day--not yet. + +As Dorothea entered the library, Mr. Casaubon turned round from +the table where he had been placing some books, and said-- + +"I was waiting for your appearance, my dear. I had hoped +to set to work at once this morning, but I find myself under +some indisposition, probably from too much excitement yesterday. +I am going now to take a turn in the shrubbery, since the air is milder." + +"I am glad to hear that," said Dorothea. "Your mind, I feared, +was too active last night." + +"I would fain have it set at rest on the point +I last spoke of, Dorothea. You can now, I hope, give me an answer." + +"May I come out to you in the garden presently?" said Dorothea, +winning a little breathing space in that way. + +"I shall be in the Yew-tree Walk for the next half-hour," +said Mr. Casaubon, and then he left her. + +Dorothea, feeling very weary, rang and asked Tantripp to bring +her some wraps. She had been sitting still for a few minutes, +but not in any renewal of the former conflict: she simply felt +that she was going to say "Yes" to her own doom: she was too weak, +too full of dread at the thought of inflicting a keen-edged blow +on her husband, to do anything but submit completely. She sat still +and let Tantripp put on her bonnet and shawl, a passivity which was +unusual with her, for she liked to wait on herself. + +"God bless you, madam!" said Tantripp, with an irrepressible movement +of love towards the beautiful, gentle creature for whom she felt +unable to do anything more, now that she had finished tying the bonnet. + +This was too much for Dorothea's highly-strung feeling, and she +burst into tears, sobbing against Tantripp's arm. But soon she +checked herself, dried her eyes, and went out at the glass door +into the shrubbery. + +"I wish every book in that library was built into a caticom for +your master," said Tantripp to Pratt, the butler, finding him in the +breakfast-room. She had been at Rome, and visited the antiquities, +as we know; and she always declined to call Mr. Casaubon anything +but "your master," when speaking to the other servants. + +Pratt laughed. He liked his master very well, but he liked +Tantripp better. + +When Dorothea was out on the gravel walks, she lingered among the +nearer clumps of trees, hesitating, as she had done once before, +though from a different cause. Then she had feared lest her effort +at fellowship should be unwelcome; now she dreaded going to the spot +where she foresaw that she must bind herself to a fellowship from +which she shrank. Neither law nor the world's opinion compelled +her to this--only her husband's nature and her own compassion, +only the ideal and not the real yoke of marriage. She saw clearly +enough the whole situation, yet she was fettered: she could not +smite the stricken soul that entreated hers. If that were weakness, +Dorothea was weak. But the half-hour was passing, and she must not +delay longer. When she entered the Yew-tree Walk she could not see +her husband; but the walk had bends, and she went, expecting to catch +sight of his figure wrapped in a blue cloak, which, with a warm +velvet cap, was his outer garment on chill days for the garden. +It occurred to her that he might be resting in the summer-house, +towards which the path diverged a little. Turning the angle, +she could see him seated on the bench, close to a stone table. +His arms were resting on the table, and his brow was bowed down on them, +the blue cloak being dragged forward and screening his face on +each side. + +"He exhausted himself last night," Dorothea said to herself, +thinking at first that he was asleep, and that the summer-house was +too damp a place to rest in. But then she remembered that of late +she had seen him take that attitude when she was reading to him, +as if he found it easier than any other; and that he would +sometimes speak, as well as listen, with his face down in that way. +She went into the summerhouse and said, "I am come, Edward; I am ready." + +He took no notice, and she thought that he must be fast asleep. +She laid her hand on his shoulder, and repeated, "I am ready!" +Still he was motionless; and with a sudden confused fear, she leaned +down to him, took off his velvet cap, and leaned her cheek close to +his head, crying in a distressed tone-- + +"Wake, dear, wake! Listen to me. I am come to answer." +But Dorothea never gave her answer. + +Later in the day, Lydgate was seated by her bedside, and she was +talking deliriously, thinking aloud, and recalling what had gone +through her mind the night before. She knew him, and called him +by his name, but appeared to think it right that she should explain +everything to him; and again, and again, begged him to explain +everything to her husband. + +"Tell him I shall go to him soon: I am ready to promise. +Only, thinking about it was so dreadful--it has made me ill. +Not very ill. I shall soon be better. Go and tell him." + +But the silence in her husband's ear was never more to be broken. + +CHAPTER XLIX. + + A task too strong for wizard spells + This squire had brought about; + 'T is easy dropping stones in wells, + But who shall get them out?" + +"I wish to God we could hinder Dorothea from knowing this," said Sir +James Chettam, with a little frown on his brow, and an expression +of intense disgust about his mouth. + +He was standing on the hearth-rug in the library at Lowick Grange, +and speaking to Mr. Brooke. It was the day after Mr. Casaubon had +been buried, and Dorothea was not yet able to leave her room. + +"That would be difficult, you know, Chettam, as she is an executrix, +and she likes to go into these things--property, land, that kind +of thing. She has her notions, you know," said Mr. Brooke, +sticking his eye-glasses on nervously, and exploring the edges of a +folded paper which he held in his hand; "and she would like to act-- +depend upon it, as an executrix Dorothea would want to act. And she +was twenty-one last December, you know. I can hinder nothing." + +Sir James looked at the carpet for a minute in silence, and then +lifting his eyes suddenly fixed them on Mr. Brooke, saying, "I will +tell you what we can do. Until Dorothea is well, all business must +be kept from her, and as soon as she is able to be moved she must +come to us. Being with Celia and the baby will be the best thing +in the world for her, and will pass away the time. And meanwhile you +must get rid of Ladislaw: you must send him out of the country." +Here Sir James's look of disgust returned in all its intensity. + +Mr. Brooke put his hands behind him, walked to the window +and straightened his back with a little shake before he replied. + +"That is easily said, Chettam, easily said, you know." + +"My dear sir," persisted Sir James, restraining his indignation +within respectful forms, "it was you who brought him here, and you +who keep him here--I mean by the occupation you give him." + +"Yes, but I can't dismiss him in an instant without assigning reasons, +my dear Chettam. Ladislaw has been invaluable, most satisfactory. +I consider that I have done this part of the country a service by +bringing him--by bringing him, you know." Mr. Brooke ended with a nod, +turning round to give it. + +"It's a pity this part of the country didn't do without him, +that's all I have to say about it. At any rate, as Dorothea's +brother-in-law, I feel warranted in objecting strongly to his being +kept here by any action on the part of her friends. You admit, +I hope, that I have a right to speak about what concerns the dignity +of my wife's sister?" + +Sir James was getting warm. + +"Of course, my dear Chettam, of course. But you and I have +different ideas--different--" + +"Not about this action of Casaubon's, I should hope," interrupted +Sir James. "I say that he has most unfairly compromised Dorothea. +I say that there never was a meaner, more ungentlemanly action +than this--a codicil of this sort to a will which he made at the time +of his marriage with the knowledge and reliance of her family-- +a positive insult to Dorothea!" + +"Well, you know, Casaubon was a little twisted about Ladislaw. +Ladislaw has told me the reason--dislike of the bent he took, you know-- +Ladislaw didn't think much of Casaubon's notions, Thoth and Dagon-- +that sort of thing: and I fancy that Casaubon didn't like the +independent position Ladislaw had taken up. I saw the letters +between them, you know. Poor Casaubon was a little buried in books-- +he didn't know the world." + +"It's all very well for Ladislaw to put that color on it," +said Sir James. "But I believe Casaubon was only jealous of him +on Dorothea's account, and the world will suppose that she +gave him some reason; and that is what makes it so abominable-- +coupling her name with this young fellow's." + +"My dear Chettam, it won't lead to anything, you know," +said Mr. Brooke, seating himself and sticking on his eye- +glass again. "It's all of a piece with Casaubon's oddity. +This paper, now, `Synoptical Tabulation' and so on, `for the use +of Mrs. Casaubon,' it was locked up in the desk with the will. +I suppose he meant Dorothea to publish his researches, eh? and +she'll do it, you know; she has gone into his studies uncommonly." + +"My dear sir," said Sir James, impatiently, "that is neither +here nor there. The question is, whether you don't see with me +the propriety of sending young Ladislaw away?" + +"Well, no, not the urgency of the thing. By-and-by, perhaps, +it may come round. As to gossip, you know, sending him away won't +hinder gossip. People say what they like to say, not what they +have chapter and verse for," said Mr Brooke, becoming acute about +the truths that lay on the side of his own wishes. "I might get rid +of Ladislaw up to a certain point--take away the `Pioneer' from him, +and that sort of thing; but I couldn't send him out of the country +if he didn't choose to go--didn't choose, you know." + +Mr. Brooke, persisting as quietly as if he were only discussing +the nature of last year's weather, and nodding at the end with his +usual amenity, was an exasperating form of obstinacy. + +"Good God!" said Sir James, with as much passion as he ever showed, +"let us get him a post; let us spend money on him. If he could go +in the suite of some Colonial Governor! Grampus might take him-- +and I could write to Fulke about it." + +"But Ladislaw won't be shipped off like a head of cattle, my dear fellow; +Ladislaw has his ideas. It's my opinion that if he were to part +from me to-morrow, you'd only hear the more of him in the country. +With his talent for speaking and drawing up documents, there are +few men who could come up to him as an agitator--an agitator, +you know." + +"Agitator!" said Sir James, with bitter emphasis, feeling that +the syllables of this word properly repeated were a sufficient +exposure of its hatefulness. + +"But be reasonable, Chettam. Dorothea, now. As you say, +she had better go to Celia as soon as possible. She can stay under +your roof, and in the mean time things may come round quietly. +Don't let us be firing off our guns in a hurry, you know. +Standish will keep our counsel, and the news will be old before +it's known. Twenty things may happen to carry off Ladislaw-- +without my doing anything, you know." + +"Then I am to conclude that you decline to do anything?" + +"Decline, Chettam?--no--I didn't say decline. But I really don't +see what I could do. Ladislaw is a gentleman." + +"I am glad to hear It!" said Sir James, his irritation making him +forget himself a little. "I am sure Casaubon was not." + +"Well, it would have been worse if he had made the codicil to hinder +her from marrying again at all, you know." + +"I don't know that," said Sir James. "It would have been +less indelicate." + +"One of poor Casaubon's freaks! That attack upset his brain a little. +It all goes for nothing. She doesn't WANT to marry Ladislaw." + +"But this codicil is framed so as to make everybody believe that she did. +I don't believe anything of the sort about Dorothea," said Sir James-- +then frowningly, "but I suspect Ladislaw. I tell you frankly, +I suspect Ladislaw." + +"I couldn't take any immediate action on that ground, Chettam. In fact, +if it were possible to pack him off--send him to Norfolk Island-- +that sort of thing--it would look all the worse for Dorothea to +those who knew about it. It would seem as if we distrusted her-- +distrusted her, you know." + +That Mr. Brooke had hit on an undeniable argument, did not tend +to soothe Sir James. He put out his hand to reach his hat, +implying that he did not mean to contend further, and said, +still with some heat-- + +"Well, I can only say that I think Dorothea was sacrificed once, +because her friends were too careless. I shall do what I can, +as her brother, to protect her now." + +"You can't do better than get her to Freshitt as soon as possible, +Chettam. I approve that plan altogether," said Mr. Brooke, well pleased +that he had won the argument. It would have been highly inconvenient +to him to part with Ladislaw at that time, when a dissolution might +happen any day, and electors were to be convinced of the course by +which the interests of the country would be best served. Mr. Brooke +sincerely believed that this end could be secured by his own return +to Parliament: he offered the forces of his mind honestly to the nation. + +CHAPTER L. + + "`This Loller here wol precilen us somewhat.' + `Nay by my father's soule! that schal he nat,' + Sayde the Schipman, `here schal he not preche, + We schal no gospel glosen here ne teche. + We leven all in the gret God,' quod he. + He wolden sowen some diffcultee." + Canterbury Tales. + +Dorothea had been safe at Freshitt Hall nearly a week before she had asked +any dangerous questions. Every morning now she sat with Celia in the +prettiest of up-stairs sitting-rooms, opening into a small conservatory-- +Celia all in white and lavender like a bunch of mixed violets, +watching the remarkable acts of the baby, which were so dubious +to her inexperienced mind that all conversation was interrupted +by appeals for their interpretation made to the oracular nurse. +Dorothea sat by in her widow's dress, with an expression which rather +provoked Celia, as being much too sad; for not only was baby quite well, +but really when a husband had been so dull and troublesome while +he lived, and besides that had--well, well! Sir James, of course, +had told Celia everything, with a strong representation how important +it was that Dorothea should not know it sooner than was inevitable. + +But Mr. Brooke had been right in predicting that Dorothea would not +long remain passive where action had been assigned to her; she knew +the purport of her husband's will made at the time of their marriage, +and her mind, as soon as she was clearly conscious of her position, +was silently occupied with what she ought to do as the owner +of Lowick Manor with the patronage of the living attached to it. + +One morning when her uncle paid his usual visit, though with an unusual +alacrity in his manner which he accounted for by saying that it +was now pretty certain Parliament would be dissolved forthwith, +Dorothea said-- + +"Uncle, it is right now that I should consider who is to have +the living at Lowick. After Mr. Tucker had been provided for, +I never heard my husband say that he had any clergyman in his +mind as a successor to himself. I think I ought to have the +keys now and go to Lowick to examine all my husband's papers. +There may be something that would throw light on his wishes." + +"No hurry, my dear," said Mr. Brooke, quietly. "By-and-by, you know, +you can go, if you like. But I cast my eyes over things in the +desks and drawers--there was nothing--nothing but deep subjects, +you know--besides the will. Everything can be done by-and-by. As +to the living, I have had an application for interest already-- +I should say rather good. Mr. Tyke has been strongly recommended +to me--I had something to do with getting him an appointment before. +An apostolic man, I believe--the sort of thing that would suit you, +my dear." + +"I should like to have fuller knowledge about him, uncle, and judge +for myself, if Mr. Casaubon has not left any expression of his wishes. +He has perhaps made some addition to his will--there may be some +instructions for me," said Dorothea, who had all the while had this +conjecture in her mind with relation to her husband's work. + +"Nothing about the rectory, my dear--nothing," said Mr. Brooke, +rising to go away, and putting out his hand to his nieces: +"nor about his researches, you know. Nothing in the will." + +Dorothea's lip quivered. + +"Come, you must not think of these things yet, my dear. +By-and-by, you know." + +"I am quite well now, uncle; I wish to exert myself." + +"Well, well, we shall see. But I must run away now--I have no end +of work now--it's a crisis--a political crisis, you know. And here +is Celia and her little man--you are an aunt, you know, now, and I +am a sort of grandfather," said Mr. Brooke, with placid hurry, +anxious to get away and tell Chettam that it would not be his +(Mr. Brooke's) fault if Dorothea insisted on looking into everything. + +Dorothea sank back in her chair when her uncle had left the room, +and cast her eyes down meditatively on her crossed hands. + +"Look, Dodo! look at him! Did you ever see anything like that?" +said Celia, in her comfortable staccato. + +"What, Kitty?" said Dorothea, lifting her eyes rather absently. + +"What? why, his upper lip; see how he is drawing it down, +as if he meant to make a face. Isn't it wonderful! He may have +his little thoughts. I wish nurse were here. Do look at him." + +A large tear which had been for some time gathering, rolled down +Dorothea's cheek as she looked up and tried to smile. + +"Don't be sad, Dodo; kiss baby. What are you brooding over so? +I am sure you did everything, and a great deal too much. You should +be happy now." + +"I wonder if Sir James would drive me to Lowick. I want to look +over everything--to see if there were any words written for me." + +"You are not to go till Mr. Lydgate says you may go. And he +has not said so yet (here you are, nurse; take baby and walk +up and down the gallery). Besides, you have got a wrong notion +in your head as usual, Dodo--I can see that: it vexes me." + +"Where am I wrong, Kitty?" said Dorothea, quite meekly. She was +almost ready now to think Celia wiser than herself, and was really +wondering with some fear what her wrong notion was. Celia felt +her advantage, and was determined to use it. None of them knew Dodo +as well as she did, or knew how to manage her. Since Celia's +baby was born, she had had a new sense of her mental solidity +and calm wisdom. It seemed clear that where there was a baby, +things were right enough, and that error, in general, was a mere +lack of that central poising force. + +"I can see what you are thinking of as well as can be, Dodo," +said Celia. "You are wanting to find out if there is anything +uncomfortable for you to do now, only because Mr. Casaubon wished it. +As if you had not been uncomfortable enough before. And he doesn't +deserve it, and you will find that out. He has behaved very badly. +James is as angry with him as can be. And I had better tell you, +to prepare you." + +"Celia," said Dorothea, entreatingly, "you distress me. +Tell me at once what you mean." It glanced through her mind that' +Mr. Casaubon had left the property away from her--which would not +be so very distressing. + +"Why, he has made a codicil to his will, to say the property was +all to go away from you if you married--I mean--" + +"That is of no consequence," said Dorothea, breaking in impetuously. + +"But if you married Mr. Ladislaw, not anybody else," Celia went +on with persevering quietude. "Of course that is of no consequence +in one way--you never WOULD marry Mr. Ladislaw; but that only +makes it worse of Mr. Casaubon." + +The blood rushed to Dorothea's face and neck painfully. But Celia +was administering what she thought a sobering dose of fact. +It was taking up notions that had done Dodo's health so much harm. +So she went on in her neutral tone, as if she had been remarking on +baby's robes. + +"James says so. He says it is abominable, and not like a gentleman. +And there never was a better judge than James. It is as if +Mr. Casaubon wanted to make people believe that you would wish +to marry Mr. Ladislaw--which is ridiculous. Only James says it +was to hinder Mr. Ladislaw from wanting to marry you for your money-- +just as if he ever would think of making you an offer. Mrs. Cadwallader +said you might as well marry an Italian with white mice! But I +must just go and look at baby," Celia added, without the least +change of tone, throwing a light shawl over her, and tripping away. + +Dorothea by this time had turned cold again, and now threw herself +back helplessly in her chair. She might have compared her experience +at that moment to the vague, alarmed consciousness that her life +was taking on a new form that she was undergoing a metamorphosis in +which memory would not adjust itself to the stirring of new organs. +Everything was changing its aspect: her husband's conduct, +her own duteous feeling towards him, every struggle between them-- +and yet more, her whole relation to Will Ladislaw. Her world +was in a state of convulsive change; the only thing she could say +distinctly to herself was, that she must wait and think anew. +One change terrified her as if it had been a sin; it was a +violent shock of repulsion from her departed husband, who had had +hidden thoughts, perhaps perverting everything she said and did. +Then again she was conscious of another change which also made +her tremulous; it was a sudden strange yearning of heart towards +Will Ladislaw. It had never before entered her mind that he could, +under any circumstances, be her lover: conceive the effect of the +sudden revelation that another had thought of him in that light-- +that perhaps he himself had been conscious of such a possibility,-- +and this with the hurrying, crowding vision of unfitting conditions, +and questions not soon to be solved. + +It seemed a long while--she did not know how long--before she heard +Celia saying, "That will do, nurse; he will be quiet on my lap now. +You can go to lunch, and let Garratt stay in the next room." +"What I think, Dodo," Celia went on, observing nothing more than that +Dorothea was leaning back in her chair, and likely to be passive, +"is that Mr. Casaubon was spiteful. I never did like him, and James +never did. I think the corners of his mouth were dreadfully spiteful. +And now he has behaved in this way, I am sure religion does not +require you to make yourself uncomfortable about him. If he has +been taken away, that is a mercy, and you ought to be grateful. +We should not grieve, should we, baby?" said Celia confidentially +to that unconscious centre and poise of the world, who had the most +remarkable fists all complete even to the nails, and hair enough, +really, when you took his cap off, to make--you didn't know what:-- +in short, he was Bouddha in a Western form. + +At this crisis Lydgate was announced, and one of the first things he +said was, "I fear you are not so well as you were, Mrs. Casaubon; +have you been agitated? allow me to feel your pulse." Dorothea's hand +was of a marble coldness. + +"She wants to go to Lowick, to look over papers," said Celia. +"She ought not, ought she?" + +Lydgate did not speak for a few moments. Then he said, +looking at Dorothea. "I hardly know. In my opinion Mrs. Casaubon +should do what would give her the most repose of mind. +That repose will not always come from being forbidden to act." + +"Thank you;" said Dorothea, exerting herself, "I am sure that is wise. +There are so many things which I ought to attend to. Why should I sit +here idle?" Then, with an effort to recall subjects not connected with +her agitation, she added, abruptly, "You know every one in Middlemarch, +I think, Mr. Lydgate. I shall ask you to tell me a great deal. +I have serious things to do now. I have a living to give away. +You know Mr. Tyke and all the--" But Dorothea's effort was too much +for her; she broke off and burst into sobs. Lydgate made her drink +a dose of sal volatile. + +"Let Mrs. Casaubon do as she likes," he said to Sir James, whom he +asked to see before quitting the house. "She wants perfect freedom, +I think, more than any other prescription." + +His attendance on Dorothea while her brain was excited, had enabled +him to form some true conclusions concerning the trials of her life. +He felt sure that she had been suffering from the strain and +conflict of self-repression; and that she was likely now to feel +herself only in another sort of pinfold than that from which she +had been released. + +Lydgate's advice was all the easier for Sir James to follow +when he found that Celia had already told Dorothea the unpleasant +fact about the will. There was no help for it now--no reason +for any further delay in the execution of necessary business. +And the next day Sir James complied at once with her request +that he would drive her to Lowick. + +"I have no wish to stay there at present," said Dorothea; +"I could hardly bear it. I am much happier at Freshitt with Celia. +I shall be able to think better about what should be done at Lowick +by looking at it from a distance. And I should like to be at the +Grange a little while with my uncle, and go about in all the old +walks and among the people in the village." + +"Not yet, I think. Your uncle is having political company, +and you are better out of the way of such doings," said Sir James, +who at that moment thought of the Grange chiefly as a haunt +of young Ladislaw's. But no word passed between him and Dorothea +about the objectionable part of the will; indeed, both of them +felt that the mention of it between them would be impossible. +Sir James was shy, even with men, about disagreeable subjects; +and the one thing that Dorothea would have chosen to say, if she +had spoken on the matter at all, was forbidden to her at present +because it seemed to be a further exposure of her husband's injustice. +Yet she did wish that Sir James could know what had passed between her +and her husband about Will Ladislaw's moral claim on the property: +it would then, she thought, be apparent to him as it was to her, +that her husband's strange indelicate proviso had been chiefly urged +by his bitter resistance to that idea of claim, and not merely +by personal feelings more difficult to talk about. Also, it must +be admitted, Dorothea wished that this could be known for Will's sake, +since her friends seemed to think of him as simply an object of +Mr. Casaubon's charity. Why should he be compared with an Italian +carrying white mice? That word quoted from Mrs. Cadwallader seemed +like a mocking travesty wrought in the dark by an impish finger. + +At Lowick Dorothea searched desk and drawer--searched all her +husband's places of deposit for private writing, but found no paper +addressed especially to her, except that "Synoptical Tabulation," +which was probably only the beginning of many intended directions +for her guidance. In carrying out this bequest of labor to Dorothea, +as in all else, Mr. Casaubon had been slow and hesitating, oppressed in +the plan of transmitting his work, as he had been in executing it, +by the sense of moving heavily in a dim and clogging medium: +distrust of Dorothea's competence to arrange what he had prepared +was subdued only by distrust of any other redactor. But he had come +at last to create a trust for himself out of Dorothea's nature: +she could do what she resolved to do: and he willingly imagined her +toiling under the fetters of a promise to erect a tomb with his name +upon it. (Not that Mr. Casaubon called the future volumes a tomb; +he called them the Key to all Mythologies.) But the months gained +on him and left his plans belated: he had only had time to ask +for that promise by which he sought to keep his cold grasp on +Dorothea's life. + +The grasp had slipped away. Bound by a pledge given from the +depths of her pity, she would have been capable of undertaking +a toil which her judgment whispered was vain for all uses except +that consecration of faithfulness which is a supreme use. But now +her judgment, instead of being controlled by duteous devotion, +was made active by the imbittering discovery that in her past union +there had lurked the hidden alienation of secrecy and suspicion. +The living, suffering man was no longer before her to awaken +her pity: there remained only the retrospect of painful subjection +to a husband whose thoughts had been lower than she had believed, +whose exorbitant claims for himself had even blinded his scrupulous +care for his own character, and made him defeat his own pride by +shocking men of ordinary honor. As for the property which was the +sign of that broken tie, she would have been glad to be free from +it and have nothing more than her original fortune which had been +settled on her, if there had not been duties attached to ownership, +which she ought not to flinch from. About this property many +troublous questions insisted on rising: had she not been right +in thinking that the half of it ought to go to Will Ladislaw?-- +but was it not impossible now for her to do that act of justice? +Mr. Casaubon had taken a cruelly effective means of hindering her: +even with indignation against him in her heart, any act that seemed a +triumphant eluding of his purpose revolted her. + +After collecting papers of business which she wished to examine, +she locked up again the desks and drawers--all empty of personal +words for her--empty of any sign that in her husband's lonely +brooding his heart had gone out to her in excuse or explanation; +and she went back to Freshitt with the sense that around his last hard +demand and his last injurious assertion of his power, the silence +was unbroken. + +Dorothea tried now to turn her thoughts towards immediate duties, +and one of these was of a kind which others were determined to remind +her of. Lydgate's ear had caught eagerly her mention of the living, +and as soon as he could, he reopened the subject, seeing here a +possibility of making amends for the casting-vote he had once given +with an ill-satisfied conscience. "Instead of telling you anything +about Mr. Tyke," he said, "I should like to speak of another man-- +Mr. Farebrother, the Vicar of St. Botolph's. His living is a poor one, +and gives him a stinted provision for himself and his family. +His mother, aunt, and sister all live with him, and depend upon him. +I believe he has never married because of them. I never heard +such good preaching as his--such plain, easy eloquence. He would +have done to preach at St. Paul's Cross after old Latimer. His talk +is just as good about all subjects: original, simple, clear. +I think him a remarkable fellow: he ought to have done more than he +has done." + +"Why has he not done more?" said Dorothea, interested now in all +who had slipped below their own intention. + +"That's a hard question," said Lydgate. "I find myself that it's +uncommonly difficult to make the right thing work: there are so many +strings pulling at once. Farebrother often hints that he has got +into the wrong profession; he wants a wider range than that of a +poor clergyman, and I suppose he has no interest to help him on. +He is very fond of Natural History and various scientific matters, +and he is hampered in reconciling these tastes with his position. +He has no money to spare--hardly enough to use; and that has led +him into card-playing--Middlemarch is a great place for whist. +He does play for money, and he wins a good deal. Of course that +takes him into company a little beneath him, and makes him slack +about some things; and yet, with all that, looking at him as a whole, +I think he is one of the most blameless men I ever knew. He has +neither venom nor doubleness in him, and those often go with a more +correct outside." + +"I wonder whether he suffers in his conscience because of that habit," +said Dorothea; "I wonder whether he wishes he could leave it off." + +"I have no doubt he would leave it off, if he were transplanted +into plenty: he would be glad of the time for other things." + +"My uncle says that Mr. Tyke is spoken of as an apostolic man," +said Dorothea, meditatively. She was wishing it were possible to restore +the times of primitive zeal, and yet thinking of Mr. Farebrother +with a strong desire to rescue him from his chance-gotten money. + +"I don't pretend to say that Farebrother is apostolic," said Lydgate. +"His position is not quite like that of the Apostles: he is only a +parson among parishioners whose lives he has to try and make better. +Practically I find that what is called being apostolic now, +is an impatience of everything in which the parson doesn't cut +the principal figure. I see something of that in Mr. Tyke at +the Hospital: a good deal of his doctrine is a sort of pinching hard +to make people uncomfortably--aware of him. Besides, an apostolic +man at Lowick!--he ought to think, as St. Francis did, that it +is needful to preach to the birds." + +"True," said Dorothea. "It is hard to imagine what sort of notions +our farmers and laborers get from their teaching. I have been +looking into a volume of sermons by Mr. Tyke: such sermons would +be of no use at Lowick--I mean, about imputed righteousness and +the prophecies in the Apocalypse. I have always been thinking +of the different ways in which Christianity is taught, and whenever +I find one way that makes it a wider blessing than any other, +I cling to that as the truest--I mean that which takes in the most +good of all kinds, and brings in the most people as sharers in it. +It is surely better to pardon too much, than to condemn too much. +But I should like to see Mr. Farebrother and hear him preach." + +"Do," said Lydgate; "I trust to the effect of that. He is very +much beloved, but he has his enemies too: there are always +people who can't forgive an able man for differing from them. +And that money-winning business is really a blot. You don't, +of course, see many Middlemarch people: but Mr. Ladislaw, who is +constantly seeing Mr. Brooke, is a great friend of Mr. Farebrother's +old ladies, and would be glad to sing the Vicar's praises. +One of the old ladies--Miss Noble, the aunt--is a wonderfully +quaint picture of self-forgetful goodness, and Ladislaw gallants +her about sometimes. I met them one day in a back street: +you know Ladislaw's look--a sort of Daphnis in coat and waistcoat; +and this little old maid reaching up to his arm--they looked +like a couple dropped out of a romantic comedy. But the best +evidence about Farebrother is to see him and hear him." + +Happily Dorothea was in her private sitting-room when this +conversation occurred, and there was no one present to make Lydgate's +innocent introduction of Ladislaw painful to her. As was usual +with him in matters of personal gossip, Lydgate had quite forgotten +Rosamond's remark that she thought Will adored Mrs. Casaubon. +At that moment he was only caring for what would recommend the +Farebrother family; and he had purposely given emphasis to the worst +that could be said about the Vicar, in order to forestall objections. +In the weeks. since Mr. Casaubon's death he had hardly seen +Ladislaw, and he had heard no rumor to warn him that Mr. Brooke's +confidential secretary was a dangerous subject with Mrs. Casaubon. +When he was gone, his picture of Ladislaw lingered in her mind +and disputed the ground with that question of the Lowick living. +What was Will Ladislaw thinking about her? Would he hear of +that fact which made her cheeks burn as they never used to do? +And how would he feel when he heard it?--But she could see +as well as possible how he smiled down at the little old maid. +An Italian with white mice!--on the contrary, he was a creature +who entered into every one's feelings, and could take the pressure +of their thought instead of urging his own with iron resistance. + +CHAPTER LI. + + Party is Nature too, and you shall see + By force of Logic how they both agree: + The Many in the One, the One in Many; + All is not Some, nor Some the same as Any: + Genus holds species, both are great or small; + One genus highest, one not high at all; + Each species has its differentia too, + This is not That, and He was never You, + Though this and that are AYES, and you and he + Are like as one to one, or three to three. + +No gossip about Mr. Casaubon's will had yet reached Ladislaw: +the air seemed to be filled with the dissolution of Parliament +and the coming election, as the old wakes and fairs were filled +with the rival clatter of itinerant shows; and more private noises +were taken little notice of. The famous "dry election" was at hand, +in which the depths of public feeling might be measured by the low +flood-mark of drink. Will Ladislaw was one of the busiest at this time; +and though Dorothea's widowhood was continually in his thought, +he was so far from wishing to be spoken to on the subject, +that when Lydgate sought him out to tell him what had passed about +the Lowick living, he answered rather waspishly-- + +"Why should you bring me into the matter? I never see Mrs. Casaubon, +and am not likely to see her, since she is at Freshitt. +I never go there. It is Tory ground, where I and the `Pioneer' +are no more welcome than a poacher and his gun." + +The fact was that Will had been made the more susceptible by +observing that Mr. Brooke, instead of wishing him, as before, +to come to the Grange oftener than was quite agreeable to himself, +seemed now to contrive that he should go there as little as possible. +This was a shuffling concession of Mr. Brooke's to Sir James +Chettam's indignant remonstrance; and Will, awake to the slightest +hint in this direction, concluded that he was to be kept away from +the Grange on Dorothea's account. Her friends, then, regarded him +with some suspicion? Their fears were quite superfluous: they were +very much mistaken if they imagined that he would put himself +forward as a needy adventurer trying to win the favor of a rich woman. + +Until now Will had never fully seen the chasm between himself +and Dorothea--until now that he was come to the brink of it, and saw +her on the other side. He began, not without some inward rage, +to think of going away from the neighborhood: it would be impossible +for him to show any further interest in Dorothea without subjecting +himself to disagreeable imputations--perhaps even in her mind, +which others might try to poison. + +"We are forever divided," said Will. "I might as well be at Rome; +she would be no farther from me." But what we call our despair +is often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope. There were +plenty of reasons why he should not go--public reasons why he +should not quit his post at this crisis, leaving Mr. Brooke in the +lurch when he needed "coaching" for the election, and when there +was so much canvassing, direct and indirect, to be carried on. +Will could not like to leave his own chessmen in the heat of a game; +and any candidate on the right side, even if his brain and marrow +had been as soft as was consistent with a gentlemanly bearing, +might help to turn a majority. To coach Mr. Brooke and keep him +steadily to the idea that he must pledge himself to vote for the actual +Reform Bill, instead of insisting on his independence and power +of pulling up in time, was not an easy task. Mr. Farebrother's +prophecy of a fourth candidate "in the bag" had not yet been fulfilled, +neither the Parliamentary Candidate Society nor any other power +on the watch to secure a reforming majority seeing a worthy nodus +for interference while there was a second reforming candidate +like Mr. Brooke, who might be returned at his own expense; +and the fight lay entirely between Pinkerton the old Tory member, +Bagster the new Whig member returned at the last election, and Brooke +the future independent member, who was to fetter himself for this +occasion only. Mr. Hawley and his party would bend all their +forces to the return of Pinkerton, and Mr. Brooke's success must +depend either on plumpers which would leave Bagster in the rear, +or on the new minting of Tory votes into reforming votes. +The latter means, of course, would be preferable. + +This prospect of converting votes was a dangerous distraction to +Mr. Brooke: his impression that waverers were likely to be allured +by wavering statements, and also the liability of his mind to stick +afresh at opposing arguments as they turned up in his memory, +gave Will Ladislaw much trouble. + +"You know there are tactics in these things," said Mr. Brooke; +"meeting people half-way--tempering your ideas--saying, `Well now, +there's something in that,' and so on. I agree with you that this +is a peculiar occasion--the country with a will of its own-- +political unions--that sort of thing--but we sometimes cut with rather +too sharp a knife, Ladislaw. These ten-pound householders, now: +why ten? Draw the line somewhere--yes: but why just at ten? +That's a difficult question, now, if you go into it." + +"Of course it is," said Will, impatiently. "But if you are to wait +till we get a logical Bill, you must put yourself forward as +a revolutionist, and then Middlemarch would not elect you, I fancy. +As for trimming, this is not a time for trimming." + +Mr. Brooke always ended by agreeing with Ladislaw, who still +appeared to him a sort of Burke with a leaven of Shelley; but after +an interval the wisdom of his own methods reasserted itself, +and he was again drawn into using them with much hopefulness. +At this stage of affairs he was in excellent spirits, which even +supported him under large advances of money; for his powers +of convincing and persuading had not yet been, tested by anything +more difficult than a chairman's speech introducing other orators, +or a dialogue with a Middlemarch voter, from which he came away +with a sense that he was a tactician by nature, and that it +was a pity he had not gone earlier into this kind of thing. +He was a little conscious of defeat, however, with Mr. Mawmsey, +a chief representative in Middlemarch of that great social power, +the retail trader, and naturally one of the most doubtful voters +in the borough--willing for his own part to supply an equal quality +of teas and sugars to reformer and anti-reformer, as well as to agree +impartially with both, and feeling like the burgesses of old that +this necessity of electing members was a great burthen to a town; +for even if there were no danger in holding out hopes to all +parties beforehand, there would be the painful necessity at last +of disappointing respectable people whose names were on his books. +He was accustomed to receive large orders from Mr. Brooke of Tipton; +but then, there were many of Pinkerton's committee whose opinions +had a great weight of grocery on their side. Mr. Mawmsey thinking +that Mr. Brooke, as not too "clever in his intellects," was the more +likely to forgive a grocer who gave a hostile vote under pressure, +had become confidential in his back parlor. + +"As to Reform, sir, put it in a family light," he said, rattling the +small silver in his pocket, and smiling affably. "Will it support +Mrs. Mawmsey, and enable her to bring up six children when I am no more? +I put the question FICTIOUSLY, knowing what must be the answer. +Very well, sir. I ask you what, as a husband and a father, I am +to do when gentlemen come to me and say, `Do as you like, Mawmsey; +but if you vote against us, I shall get my groceries elsewhere: +when I sugar my liquor I like to feel that I am benefiting the country +by maintaining tradesmen of the right color.' Those very words have +been spoken to me, sir, in the very chair where you are now sitting. +I don't mean by your honorable self, Mr. Brooke." + +"No, no, no--that's narrow, you know. Until my butler complains +to me of your goods, Mr. Mawmsey," said Mr. Brooke, soothingly, +"until I hear that you send bad sugars, spices--that sort of thing-- +I shall never order him to go elsewhere." + +"Sir, I am your humble servant, and greatly obliged," said Mr. Mawmsey, +feeling that politics were clearing up a little. "There would be some +pleasure in voting for a gentleman who speaks in that honorable manner." + +"Well, you know, Mr. Mawmsey, you would find it the right thing to put +yourself on our side. This Reform will touch everybody by-and-by-- +a thoroughly popular measure--a sort of A, B, C, you know, +that must come first before the rest can follow. I quite agree +with you that you've got to look at the thing in a family light: +but public spirit, now. We're all one family, you know-- +it's all one cupboard. Such a thing as a vote, now: why, it may +help to make men's fortunes at the Cape--there's no knowing +what may be the effect of a vote," Mr. Brooke ended, with a sense +of being a little out at sea, though finding it still enjoyable. +But Mr. Mawmsey answered in a tone of decisive check. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but I can't afford that. When I give a vote +I must know what I am doing; I must look to what will be the effects +on my till and ledger, speaking respectfully. Prices, I'll admit, +are what nobody can know the merits of; and the sudden falls after +you've bought in currants, which are a goods that will not keep-- +I've never; myself seen into the ins and outs there; which is a rebuke +to human pride. But as to one family, there's debtor and creditor, +I hope; they're not going to reform that away; else I should vote +for things staying as they are. Few men have less need to cry +for change than I have, personally speaking--that is, for self +and family. I am not one of those who have nothing to lose: +I mean as to respectability both in parish and private business, +and noways in respect of your honorable self and custom, which you +was good enough to say you would not withdraw from me, vote or no vote, +while the article sent in was satisfactory." + +After this conversation Mr. Mawmsey went up and boasted to his wife +that he had been rather too many for Brooke of Tipton, and that he +didn't mind so much now about going to the poll. + +Mr. Brooke on this occasion abstained from boasting of his tactics +to Ladislaw, who for his part was glad enough to persuade himself +that he had no concern with any canvassing except the purely +argumentative sort, and that he worked no meaner engine than knowledge. +Mr. Brooke, necessarily, had his agents, who understood the nature +of the Middlemarch voter and the means of enlisting his ignorance +on the side of the Bill--which were remarkably similar to the means +of enlisting it on the side against the Bill. Will stopped his ears. +Occasionally Parliament, like the rest of our lives, even to our +eating and apparel, could hardly go on if our imaginations were +too active about processes. There were plenty of dirty-handed men +in the world to do dirty business; and Will protested to himself +that his share in bringing Mr. Brooke through would be quite innocent. + +But whether he should succeed in that mode of contributing +to the majority on the right side was very doubtful to him. +He had written out various speeches and memoranda for speeches, +but he had begun to perceive that Mr. Brooke's mind, if it had +the burthen of remembering any train of thought, would let it drop, +run away in search of it, and not easily come back again. To collect +documents is one mode of serving your country, and to remember +the contents of a document is another. No! the only way in which +Mr. Brooke could be coerced into thinking of the right arguments +at the right time was to be well plied with them till they took +up all the room in his brain. But here there was the difficulty +of finding room, so many things having been taken in beforehand. +Mr. Brooke himself observed that his ideas stood rather in his way +when he was speaking. + +However, Ladislaw's coaching was forthwith to be put to the test, +for before the day of nomination Mr. Brooke was to explain himself to +the worthy electors of Middlemarch from the balcony of the White Hart, +which looked out advantageously at an angle of the market-place, +commanding a large area in front and two converging streets. +It was a fine May morning, and everything seemed hopeful: +there was some prospect of an understanding between Bagster's +committee and Brooke's, to which Mr. Bulstrode, Mr. Standish +as a Liberal lawyer, and such manufacturers as Mr. Plymdale and +Mr. Vincy, gave a solidity which almost counterbalanced Mr. Hawley +and his associates who sat for Pinkerton at the Green Dragon. +Mr. Brooke, conscious of having weakened the blasts of the "Trumpet" +against him, by his reforms as a landlord in the last half year, +and hearing himself cheered a little as he drove into the town, +felt his heart tolerably light under his buff-colored waistcoat. +But with regard to critical occasions, it often happens that all moments +seem comfortably remote until the last. + +"This looks well, eh?" said Mr. Brooke as the crowd gathered. +"I shall have a good audience, at any rate. I like this, now-- +this kind of public made up of one's own neighbors, you know." + +The weavers and tanners of Middlemarch, unlike Mr. Mawmsey, had never +thought of Mr. Brooke as a neighbor, and were not more attached +to him than if he had been sent in a box from London. But they +listened without much disturbance to the speakers who introduced +the candidate, one of them--a political personage from Brassing, +who came to tell Middlemarch its duty--spoke so fully, that it was +alarming to think what the candidate could find to say after him. +Meanwhile the crowd became denser, and as the political personage +neared the end of his speech, Mr. Brooke felt a remarkable change +in his sensations while he still handled his eye-glass, trifled +with documents before him, and exchanged remarks with his committee, +as a man to whom the moment of summons was indifferent. + +"I'll take another glass of sherry, Ladislaw," he said, with an +easy air, to Will, who was close behind him, and presently handed +him the supposed fortifier. It was ill-chosen; for Mr. Brooke +was an abstemious man, and to drink a second glass of sherry +quickly at no great interval from the first was a surprise +to his system which tended to scatter his energies instead of +collecting them Pray pity him: so many English gentlemen make +themselves miserable by speechifying on entirely private grounds! +whereas Mr. Brooke wished to serve his country by standing +for Parliament--which, indeed, may also be done on private grounds, +but being once undertaken does absolutely demand some speechifying. + +It was not about the beginning of his speech that Mr. Brooke was at +all anxious; this, he felt sure, would be all right; he should have +it quite pat, cut out as neatly as a set of couplets from Pope. +Embarking would be easy, but the vision of open sea that might +come after was alarming. "And questions, now," hinted the demon +just waking up in his stomach, "somebody may put questions +about the schedules.--Ladislaw," he continued, aloud, "just hand +me the memorandum of the schedules." + +When Mr. Brooke presented himself on the balcony, the cheers were +quite loud enough to counterbalance the yells, groans, brayings, +and other expressions of adverse theory, which were so moderate that +Mr. Standish (decidedly an old bird) observed in the ear next to him, +"This looks dangerous, by God! Hawley has got some deeper plan +than this." Still, the cheers were exhilarating, and no candidate +could look more amiable than Mr. Brooke, with the memorandum +in his breast-pocket, his left hand on the rail of the balcony, +and his right trifling with his eye-glass. The striking points +in his appearance were his buff waistcoat, short-clipped blond hair, +and neutral physiognomy. He began with some confidence. + +"Gentlemen--Electors of Middlemarch!" + +This was so much the right thing that a little pause after it +seemed natural. + +"I'm uncommonly glad to be here--I was never so proud and happy +in my life--never so happy, you know." + +This was a bold figure of speech, but not exactly the right thing; +for, unhappily, the pat opening had slipped away--even couplets +from Pope may be but "fallings from us, vanishings," when fear +clutches us, and a glass of sherry is hurrying like smoke among +our ideas. Ladislaw, who stood at the window behind the speaker, +thought, "it's all up now. The only chance is that, since the best +thing won't always do, floundering may answer for once." Mr. Brooke, +meanwhile, having lost other clews, fell back on himself and his +qualifications--always an appropriate graceful subject for a candidate. + +"I am a close neighbor of yours, my good friends--you've known +me on the bench a good while--I've always gone a good deal into +public questions--machinery, now, and machine-breaking--you're many +of you concerned with machinery, and I've been going into that lately. +It won't do, you know, breaking machines: everything must go on-- +trade, manufactures, commerce, interchange of staples--that kind +of thing--since Adam Smith, that must go on. We must look all over +the globe:--`Observation with extensive view,' must look everywhere, +`from China to Peru,' as somebody says--Johnson, I think, `The Rambler,' +you know. That is what I have done up to a certain point--not as far +as Peru; but I've not always stayed at home--I saw it wouldn't do. +I've been in the Levant, where some of your Middlemarch goods go-- +and then, again, in the Baltic. The Baltic, now." + +Plying among his recollections in this way, Mr. Brooke might have +got along, easily to himself, and would have come back from the +remotest seas without trouble; but a diabolical procedure had been set +up by the enemy. At one and the same moment there had risen above +the shoulders of the crowd, nearly opposite Mr. Brooke, and within +ten yards of him, the effigy of himself: buff-colored waistcoat, +eye-glass, and neutral physiognomy, painted on rag; and there +had arisen, apparently in the air, like the note of the cuckoo, +a parrot-like, Punch-voiced echo of his words. Everybody looked +up at the open windows in the houses at the opposite angles +of the converging streets; but they were either blank, or filled +by laughing listeners. The most innocent echo has an impish mockery +in it when it follows a gravely persistent speaker, and this echo +was not at all innocent; if it did not follow with the precision +of a natural echo, it had a wicked choice of the words it overtook. +By the time it said, "The Baltic, now," the laugh which had been +running through the audience became a general shout, and but for +the sobering effects of party and that great public cause which +the entanglement of things had identified with "Brooke of Tipton," +the laugh might have caught his committee. Mr. Bulstrode asked, +reprehensively, what the new police was doing; but a voice could not +well be collared, and an attack on the effigy of the candidate would +have been too equivocal, since Hawley probably meant it to be pelted. + +Mr. Brooke himself was not in a position to be quickly conscious +of anything except a general slipping away of ideas within himself: +he had even a little singing in the ears, and he was the only person +who had not yet taken distinct account of the echo or discerned the +image of himself. Few things hold the perceptions more thoroughly +captive than anxiety about what we have got to say. Mr. Brooke heard +the laughter; but he had expected some Tory efforts at disturbance, +and he was at this moment additionally excited by the tickling, +stinging sense that his lost exordium was coming back to fetch him +from the Baltic. + +"That reminds me," he went on, thrusting a hand into his side-pocket, +with an easy air, "if I wanted a precedent, you know--but we never want +a precedent for the right thing--but there is Chatham, now; I can't +say I should have supported Chatham, or Pitt, the younger Pitt-- +he was not a man of ideas, and we want ideas, you know." + +"Blast your ideas! we want the Bill," said a loud rough voice +from the crowd below. + +Immediately the invisible Punch, who had hitherto followed +Mr. Brooke, repeated, "Blast your ideas! we want the Bill." +The laugh was louder than ever, and for the first time Mr. Brooke +being himself silent, heard distinctly the mocking echo. But it +seemed to ridicule his interrupter, and in that light was encouraging; +so he replied with amenity-- + +"There is something in what you say, my good friend, and what do we +meet for but to speak our minds--freedom of opinion, freedom of +the press, liberty--that kind of thing? The Bill, now--you shall have +the Bill"--here Mr. Brooke paused a moment to fix on his eye-glass +and take the paper from his breast-pocket, with a sense of being +practical and coming to particulars. The invisible Punch followed:-- + +"You shall have the Bill, Mr. Brooke, per electioneering contest, +and a seat outside Parliament as delivered, five thousand pounds, +seven shillings, and fourpence." + +Mr. Brooke, amid the roars of laughter, turned red, let his eye-glass +fall, and looking about him confusedly, saw the image of himself, +which had come nearer. The next moment he saw it dolorously +bespattered with eggs. His spirit rose a little, and his voice too. + +"Buffoonery, tricks, ridicule the test of truth--all that is very +well"--here an unpleasant egg broke on Mr. Brooke's shoulder, +as the echo said, "All that is very well;" then came a hail of eggs, +chiefly aimed at the image, but occasionally hitting the original, +as if by chance. There was a stream of new men pushing among +the crowd; whistles, yells, bellowings, and fifes made all the greater +hubbub because there was shouting and struggling to put them down. +No voice would have had wing enough to rise above the uproar, +and Mr. Brooke, disagreeably anointed, stood his ground no longer. +The frustration would have been less exasperating if it had been +less gamesome and boyish: a serious assault of which the newspaper +reporter "can aver that it endangered the learned gentleman's ribs," +or can respectfully bear witness to "the soles of that gentleman's boots +having been visible above the railing," has perhaps more consolations +attached to it. + +Mr. Brooke re-entered the committee-room, saying, as carelessly +as he could, "This is a little too bad, you know. I should have got +the ear of the people by-and-by--but they didn't give me time. +I should have gone into the Bill by-and-by, you know," he added, +glancing at Ladislaw. "However, things will come all right at +the nomination." + +But it was not resolved unanimously that things would come right; +on the contrary, the committee looked rather grim, and the political +personage from Brassing was writing busily, as if he were brewing +new devices. + +"It was Bowyer who did it," said Mr. Standish, evasively. "I know +it as well as if he had been advertised. He's uncommonly good +at ventriloquism, and he did it uncommonly well, by God! Hawley has +been having him to dinner lately: there's a fund of talent in Bowyer." + +"Well, you know, you never mentioned him to me, Standish, else I +would have invited him to dine," said poor Mr. Brooke, who had gone +through a great deal of inviting for the good of his country. + +"There's not a more paltry fellow in Middlemarch than Bowyer," +said Ladislaw, indignantly, "but it seems as if the paltry fellows +were always to turn the scale." + +Will was thoroughly out of temper with himself as well as with his +"principal," and he went to shut himself in his rooms with a half-formed +resolve to throw up the "Pioneer" and Mr. Brooke together. +Why should he stay? If the impassable gulf between himself and +Dorothea were ever to be filled up, it must rather be by his going +away and getting into a thoroughly different position than by staying +here and slipping into deserved contempt as an understrapper of +Brooke's. Then came the young dream of wonders that he might do-- +in five years, for example: political writing, political speaking, +would get a higher value now public life was going to be wider and +more national, and they might give him such distinction that he would +not seem to be asking Dorothea to step down to him. Five years:-- +if he could only be sure that she cared for him more than for others; +if he could only make her aware that he stood aloof until he could +tell his love without lowering himself--then he could go away easily, +and begin a career which at five-and-twenty seemed probable enough +in the inward order of things, where talent brings fame, and fame +everything else which is delightful. He could speak and he could write; +he could master any subject if he chose, and he meant always to take +the side of reason and justice, on which he would carry all his ardor. +Why should he not one day be lifted above the shoulders of the crowd, +and feel that he had won that eminence well? Without doubt he would +leave Middlemarch, go to town, and make himself fit for celebrity +by "eating his dinners." + +But not immediately: not until some kind of sign had passed between +him and Dorothea. He could not be satisfied until she knew why, +even if he were the man she would choose to marry, he would not +marry her. Hence he must keep his post and bear with Mr. Brooke +a little longer. + +But he soon had reason to suspect that Mr. Brooke had +anticipated him in the wish to break up their connection. +Deputations without and voices within had concurred in inducing +that philanthropist to take a stronger measure than usual for the +good of mankind; namely, to withdraw in favor of another candidate, +to whom he left the advantages of his canvassing machinery. +He himself called this a strong measure, but observed that +his health was less capable of sustaining excitement than he had imagined. + +"I have felt uneasy about the chest--it won't do to carry that too far," +he said to Ladislaw in explaining the affair. "I must pull up. +Poor Casaubon was a warning, you know. I've made some heavy advances, +but I've dug a channel. It's rather coarse work--this electioneering, +eh, Ladislaw? dare say you are tired of it. However, we have dug +a channel with the `Pioneer'--put things in a track, and so on. +A more ordinary man than you might carry it on now--more ordinary, +you know." + +"Do you wish me to give it up?" said Will, the quick color coming +in his face, as he rose from the writing-table, and took a turn +of three steps with his hands in his pockets. "I am ready to do +so whenever you wish it." + +"As to wishing, my dear Ladislaw, I have the highest opinion of +your powers, you know. But about the `Pioneer,' I have been consulting +a little with some of the men on our side, and they are inclined to take +it into their hands--indemnify me to a certain extent--carry it on, +in fact. And under the circumstances, you might like to give up-- +might find a better field. These people might not take that high view +of you which I have always taken, as an alter ego, a right hand-- +though I always looked forward to your doing something else. +I think of having a run into France. But I'll write you any letters, +you know--to Althorpe and people of that kind. I've met Althorpe." + +"I am exceedingly obliged to you," said Ladislaw, proudly. "Since you +are going to part with the `Pioneer,' I need not trouble you about +the steps I shall take. I may choose to continue here for the present." + +After Mr. Brooke had left him Will said to himself, "The rest +of the family have been urging him to get rid of me, and he +doesn't care now about my going. I shall stay as long as I like. +I shall go of my own movements and not because they are afraid +of me." + +CHAPTER LII. + + "His heart + The lowliest duties on itself did lay." + --WORDSWORTH. + +On that June evening when Mr. Farebrother knew that he was to have +the Lowick living, there was joy in the old fashioned parlor, +and even the portraits of the great lawyers seemed to look on +with satisfaction. His mother left her tea and toast untouched, +but sat with her usual pretty primness, only showing her emotion by +that flush in the cheeks and brightness in the eyes which give an old +woman a touching momentary identity with her far-off youthful self, +and saying decisively-- + +"The greatest comfort, Camden, is that you have deserved it." + +"When a man gets a good berth, mother, half the deserving must +come after," said the son, brimful of pleasure, and not trying +to conceal it. The gladness in his face was of that active kind +which seems to have energy enough not only to flash outwardly, +but to light up busy vision within: one seemed to see thoughts, +as well as delight, in his glances. + +"Now, aunt," he went on, rubbing his hands and looking at Miss Noble, +who was making tender little beaver-like noises, "There shall +be sugar-candy always on the table for you to steal and give +to the children, and you shall have a great many new stockings +to make presents of, and you shall darn your own more than ever!" + +Miss Noble nodded at her nephew with a subdued half-frightened laugh, +conscious of having already dropped an additional lump of sugar +into her basket on the strength of the new preferment. + +"As for you, Winny"--the Vicar went on--"I shall make no difficulty +about your marrying any Lowick bachelor--Mr. Solomon Featherstone, +for example, as soon as I find you are in love with him." + +Miss Winifred, who had been looking at her brother all the while +and crying heartily, which was her way of rejoicing, smiled through +her tears and said, "You must set me the example, Cam: YOU +must marry now." + +"With all my heart. But who is in love with me? I am a seedy +old fellow," said the Vicar, rising, pushing his chair away +and looking down at himself. "What do you say, mother?" + +"You are a handsome man, Camden: though not so fine a figure +of a man as your father," said the old lady. + +"I wish you would marry Miss Garth, brother," said Miss Winifred. +"She would make us so lively at Lowick." + +"Very fine! You talk as if young women were tied up to be chosen, +like poultry at market; as if I had only to ask and everybody would +have me," said the Vicar, not caring to specify. + +"We don't want everybody," said Miss Winifred. "But YOU would +like Miss Garth, mother, shouldn't you?" + +"My son's choice shall be mine," said Mrs. Farebrother, +with majestic discretion, "and a wife would be most welcome, +Camden. You will want your whist at home when we go to Lowick, +and Henrietta Noble never was a whist-player." (Mrs. Farebrother +always called her tiny old sister by that magnificent name.) + +"I shall do without whist now, mother." + +"Why so, Camden? In my time whist was thought an undeniable +amusement for a good churchman," said Mrs. Farebrother, innocent of +the meaning that whist had for her son, and speaking rather sharply, +as at some dangerous countenancing of new doctrine. + +"I shall be too busy for whist; I shall have two parishes," +said the Vicar, preferring not to discuss the virtues of that game. + +He had already said to Dorothea, "I don't feel bound to give +up St. Botolph's. It is protest enough against the pluralism +they want to reform if I give somebody else most of the money. +The stronger thing is not to give up power, but to use it well." + +"I have thought of that," said Dorothea. "So far as self is concerned, +I think it would be easier to give up power and money than to keep them. +It seems very unfitting that I should have this patronage, yet I +felt that I ought not to let it be used by some one else instead +of me." + +"It is I who am bound to act so that you will not regret your power," +said Mr. Farebrother. + +His was one of the natures in which conscience gets the more active +when the yoke of life ceases to gall them. He made no display +of humility on the subject, but in his heart he felt rather ashamed +that his conduct had shown laches which others who did not get +benefices were free from. + +"I used often to wish I had been something else than a clergyman," +he said to Lydgate, "but perhaps it will be better to try and +make as good a clergyman out of myself as I can. That is the +well-beneficed point of view, you perceive, from which difficulties +are much simplified," he ended, smiling. + +The Vicar did feel then as if his share of duties would be easy. +But Duty has a trick of behaving unexpectedly--something like a heavy +friend whom we have amiably asked to visit us, and who breaks his leg +within our gates. + +Hardly a week later, Duty presented itself in his study under +the disguise of Fred Vincy, now returned from Omnibus College +with his bachelor's degree. + +"I am ashamed to trouble you, Mr. Farebrother," said Fred, +whose fair open face was propitiating, "but you are the only +friend I can consult. I told you everything once before, +and you were so good that I can't help coming to you again." + +"Sit down, Fred, I'm ready to hear and do anything I can," +said the Vicar, who was busy packing some small objects for removal, +and went on with his work. + +"I wanted to tell you--" Fred hesitated an instant and then went +on plungingly, "I might go into the Church now; and really, +look where I may, I can't see anything else to do. I don't +like it, but I know it's uncommonly hard on my father to say so, +after he has spent a good deal of money in educating me for it." +Fred paused again an instant, and then repeated, "and I can't see +anything else to do." + +"I did talk to your father about it, Fred, but I made little way +with him. He said it was too late. But you have got over one +bridge now: what are your other difficulties?" + +"Merely that I don't like it. I don't like divinity, and preaching, +and feeling obliged to look serious. I like riding across country, +and doing as other men do. I don't mean that I want to be a bad +fellow in any way; but I've no taste for the sort of thing +people expect of a clergyman. And yet what else am I to do? +My father can't spare me any capital, else I might go into farming. +And he has no room for me in his trade. And of course I can't +begin to study for law or physic now, when my father wants me +to earn something. It's all very well to say I'm wrong to go into +the Church; but those who say so might as well tell me to go into +the backwoods." + +Fred's voice had taken a tone of grumbling remonstrance, +and Mr. Farebrother might have been inclined to smile +if his mind had not been too busy in imagining more than Fred told him. + +"Have you any difficulties about doctrines--about the Articles?" +he said, trying hard to think of the question simply for Fred's sake. + +"No; I suppose the Articles are right. I am not prepared with any +arguments to disprove them, and much better, cleverer fellows than I +am go in for them entirely. I think it would be rather ridiculous +in me to urge scruples of that sort, as if I were a judge," +said Fred, quite simply. + +"I suppose, then, it has occurred to you that you might be a fair +parish priest without being much of a divine?" + +"Of course, if I am obliged to be a clergyman, I shall try and do +my duty, though I mayn't like it. Do you think any body ought +to blame me?" + +"For going into the Church under the circumstances? That depends +on your conscience, Fred--how far you have counted the cost, +and seen what your position will require of you. I can only tell +you about myself, that I have always been too lax, and have been +uneasy in consequence." + +"But there is another hindrance," said Fred, coloring. "I did +not tell you before, though perhaps I may have said things +that made you guess it. There is somebody I am very fond of: +I have loved her ever since we were children." + +"Miss Garth, I suppose?" said the Vicar, examining some labels +very closely. + +"Yes. I shouldn't mind anything if she would have me. And I know +I could be a good fellow then." + +"And you think she returns the feeling?" + +"She never will say so; and a good while ago she made me promise not +to speak to her about it again. And she has set her mind especially +against my being a clergyman; I know that. But I can't give her up. +I do think she cares about me. I saw Mrs. Garth last night, and she +said that Mary was staying at Lowick Rectory with Miss Farebrother." + +"Yes, she is very kindly helping my sister. Do you wish to go there?" + +"No, I want to ask a great favor of you. I am ashamed to bother +you in this way; but Mary might listen to what you said, if you +mentioned the subject to her--I mean about my going into the Church." + +"That is rather a delicate task, my dear Fred. I shall have to +presuppose your attachment to her; and to enter on the subject as you +wish me to do, will be asking her to tell me whether she returns it." + +"That is what I want her to tell you," said Fred, bluntly. "I don't +know what to do, unless I can get at her feeling." + +"You mean that you would be guided by that as to your going into +the Church?" + +"If Mary said she would never have me I might as well go wrong +in one way as another." + +"That is nonsense, Fred. Men outlive their love, but they don't +outlive the consequences of their recklessness." + +"Not my sort of love: I have never been without loving Mary. +If I had to give her up, it would be like beginning to live on +wooden legs." + +"Will she not be hurt at my intrusion?" + +"No, I feel sure she will not. She respects you more than any one, +and she would not put you off with fun as she does me. Of course I +could not have told any one else, or asked any one else to speak to her, +but you. There is no one else who could be such a friend to both +of us." Fred paused a moment, and then said, rather complainingly, +"And she ought to acknowledge that I have worked in order to pass. +She ought to believe that I would exert myself for her sake." + +There was a moment's silence before Mr. Farebrother laid down his work, +and putting out his hand to Fred said-- + +"Very well, my boy. I will do what you wish." + +That very day Mr. Farebrother went to Lowick parsonage on the nag +which he had just set up. "Decidedly I am an old stalk," he thought, +"the young growths are pushing me aside." + +He found Mary in the garden gathering roses and sprinkling the petals +on a sheet. The sun was low, and tall trees sent their shadows across +the grassy walks where Mary was moving without bonnet or parasol. +She did not observe Mr. Farebrother's approach along the grass, +and had just stooped down to lecture a small black-and-tan terrier, +which would persist in walking on the sheet and smelling at the +rose-leaves as Mary sprinkled them. She took his fore-paws in one hand, +and lifted up the forefinger of the other, while the dog wrinkled +his brows and looked embarrassed. "Fly, Fly, I am ashamed of you," +Mary was saying in a grave contralto. "This is not becoming in a +sensible dog; anybody would think you were a silly young gentleman." + +"You are unmerciful to young gentlemen, Miss Garth," said the Vicar, +within two yards of her. + +Mary started up and blushed. "It always answers to reason with Fly," +she said, laughingly. + +"But not with young gentlemen?" + +"Oh, with some, I suppose; since some of them turn into excellent men." + +"I am glad of that admission, because I want at this very moment +to interest you in a young gentleman." + +"Not a silly one, I hope," said Mary, beginning to pluck +the roses again, and feeling her heart beat uncomfortably. + +"No; though perhaps wisdom is not his strong point, +but rather affection and sincerity. However, wisdom lies +more in those two qualities than people are apt to imagine. +I hope you know by those marks what young gentleman I mean." + +"Yes, I think I do," said Mary, bravely, her face getting more serious, +and her hands cold; "it must be Fred Vincy." + +"He has asked me to consult you about his going into the Church. +I hope you will not think that I consented to take a liberty in +promising to do so." + +"On the contrary, Mr. Farebrother," said Mary, giving up the roses, +and folding her arms, but unable to look up, "whenever you have +anything to say to me I feel honored." + +"But before I enter on that question, let me just touch a point on +which your father took me into confidence; by the way, it was that +very evening on which I once before fulfilled a mission from Fred, +just after he had gone to college. Mr. Garth told me what happened +on the night of Featherstone's death--how you refused to burn the will; +and he said that you had some heart-prickings on that subject, +because you had been the innocent means of hindering Fred from +getting his ten thousand pounds. I have kept that in mind, +and I have heard something that may relieve you on that score-- +may show you that no sin-offering is demanded from you there.". + +Mr. Farebrother paused a moment and looked at Mary. He meant +to give Fred his full advantage, but it would be well, he thought, +to clear her mind of any superstitions, such as women sometimes follow +when they do a man the wrong of marrying him as an act of atonement. +Mary's cheeks had begun to burn a little, and she was mute. + +"I mean, that your action made no real difference to Fred's lot. +I find that the first will would not have been legally good after the +burning of the last; it would not have stood if it had been disputed, +and you may be sure it would have been disputed. So, on that score, +you may feel your mind free." + +"Thank you, Mr. Farebrother," said Mary, earnestly. "I am grateful +to you for remembering my feelings." + +"Well, now I may go on. Fred, you know, has taken his degree. +He has worked his way so far, and now the question is, what is +he to do? That question is so difficult that he is inclined to +follow his father's wishes and enter the Church, though you know +better than I do that he was quite set against that formerly. +I have questioned him on the subject, and I confess I see no +insuperable objection to his being a clergyman, as things go. +He says that he could turn his mind to doing his best in that vocation, +on one condition. If that condition were fulfilled I would do my +utmost in helping Fred on. After a time--not, of course, at first-- +he might be with me as my curate, and he would have so much to do +that his stipend would be nearly what I used to get as vicar. +But I repeat that there is a condition without which all this good +cannot come to pass. He has opened his heart to me, Miss Garth, +and asked me to plead for him. The condition lies entirely in +your feeling." + +Mary looked so much moved, that he said after a moment, "Let us +walk a little;" and when they were walking he added, "To speak +quite plainly, Fred will not take any course which would lessen the +chance that you would consent to be his wife; but with that prospect, +he will try his best at anything you approve." + +"I cannot possibly say that I will ever be his wife, Mr. Farebrother: +but I certainly never will be his wife if he becomes a clergyman. +What you say is most generous and kind; I don't mean for a moment +to correct your judgment. It is only that I have my girlish, +mocking way of looking at things," said Mary, with a returning +sparkle of playfulness in her answer which only made its modesty +more charming. + +"He wishes me to report exactly what you think," said Mr. Farebrother. + +"I could not love a man who is ridiculous," said Mary, not choosing to +go deeper. "Fred has sense and knowledge enough to make him respectable, +if he likes, in some good worldly business, but I can never imagine +him preaching and exhorting, and pronouncing blessings, and praying +by the sick, without feeling as if I were looking at a caricature. +His being a clergyman would be only for gentility's sake, and I think +there is nothing more contemptible than such imbecile gentility. +I used to think that of Mr. Crowse, with his empty face and neat +umbrella, and mincing little speeches. What right have such men +to represent Christianity--as if it were an institution for getting up +idiots genteelly--as if--" Mary checked herself. She had been carried +along as if she had been speaking to Fred instead of Mr. Farebrother. + +"Young women are severe: they don't feel the stress of action +as men do, though perhaps I ought to make you an exception there. +But you don't put Fred Vincy on so low a level as that?" + +"No, indeed, he has plenty of sense, but I think he would not show +it as a clergyman. He would be a piece of professional affectation." + +"Then the answer is quite decided. As a clergyman he could have +no hope?" + +Mary shook her head. + +"But if he braved all the difficulties of getting his bread +in some other way--will you give him the support of hope? +May he count on winning you?" + +"I think Fred ought not to need telling again what I have already +said to him," Mary answered, with a slight resentment in her manner. +"I mean that he ought not to put such questions until he has done +something worthy, instead of saying that he could do it." + +Mr. Farebrother was silent for a minute or more, and then, as they +turned and paused under the shadow of a maple at the end of a grassy +walk, said, "I understand that you resist any attempt to fetter you, +but either your feeling for Fred Vincy excludes your entertaining +another attachment, or it does not: either he may count on your +remaining single until he shall have earned your hand, or he may in any +case be disappointed. Pardon me, Mary--you know I used to catechise +you under that name--but when the state of a woman's affections +touches the happiness of another life--of more lives than one--I think +it would be the nobler course for her to be perfectly direct and open." + +Mary in her turn was silent, wondering not at Mr. Farebrother's +manner but at his tone, which had a grave restrained emotion in it. +When the strange idea flashed across her that his words had reference +to himself, she was incredulous, and ashamed of entertaining it. +She had never thought that any man could love her except Fred, +who had espoused her with the umbrella ring, when she wore socks +and little strapped shoes; still less that she could be of any +importance to Mr. Farebrother, the cleverest man in her narrow circle. +She had only time to feel that all this was hazy and perhaps illusory; +but one thing was clear and determined--her answer. + +"Since you think it my duty, Mr. Farebrother, I will tell you +that I have too strong a feeling for Fred to give him up for any +one else. I should never be quite happy if I thought he was +unhappy for the loss of me. It has taken such deep root in me-- +my gratitude to him for always loving me best, and minding so much +if I hurt myself, from the time when we were very little. I cannot +imagine any new feeling coming to make that weaker. I should like +better than anything to see him worthy of every one's respect. +But please tell him I will not promise to marry him till then: +I should shame and grieve my father and mother. He is free to choose +some one else." + +"Then I have fulfilled my commission thoroughly," +said Mr. Farebrother, putting out his hand to Mary, +"and I shall ride back to Middlemarch forthwith. With this +prospect before him, we shall get Fred into the right niche +somehow, and I hope I shall live to join your hands. God bless you!" + +"Oh, please stay, and let me give you some tea," said Mary. +Her eyes filled with tears, for something indefinable, something like +the resolute suppression of a pain in Mr. Farebrother's manner, +made her feel suddenly miserable, as she had once felt when she saw +her father's hands trembling in a moment of trouble. + +"No, my dear, no. I must get back." + +In three minutes the Vicar was on horseback again, having gone +magnanimously through a duty much harder than the renunciation +of whist, or even than the writing of penitential meditations. + +CHAPTER LIII. + +It is but a shallow haste which concludeth insincerity from what +outsiders call inconsistency--putting a dead mechanism of "ifs" +and "therefores" for the living myriad of hidden suckers whereby +the belief and the conduct are wrought into mutual sustainment. + +Mr. Bulstrode, when he was hoping to acquire a new interest in Lowick, +had naturally had an especial wish that the new clergyman should be one +whom he thoroughly approved; and he believed it to be a chastisement +and admonition directed to his own shortcomings and those of the nation +at large, that just about the time when he came in possession of the +deeds which made him the proprietor of Stone Court, Mr. Farebrother +"read himself" into the quaint little church and preached his first +sermon to the congregation of farmers, laborers, and village artisans. +It was not that Mr. Bulstrode intended to frequent Lowick Church +or to reside at Stone Court for a good while to come: he had +bought the excellent farm and fine homestead simply as a retreat +which he might gradually enlarge as to the land and beautify as +to the dwelling, until it should be conducive to the divine glory +that he should enter on it as a residence, partially withdrawing +from his present exertions in the administration of business, +and throwing more conspicuously on the side of Gospel truth the weight +of local landed proprietorship, which Providence might increase by +unforeseen occasions of purchase. A strong leading in this direction +seemed to have been given in the surprising facility of getting +Stone Court, when every one had expected that Mr. Rigg Featherstone +would have clung to it as the Garden of Eden. That was what poor +old Peter himself had expected; having often, in imagination, +looked up through the sods above him, and, unobstructed by. +perspective, seen his frog-faced legatee enjoying the fine +old place to the perpetual surprise and disappointment of other survivors. + +But how little we know what would make paradise for our neighbors! +We judge from our own desires, and our neighbors themselves +are not always open enough even to throw out a hint of theirs. +The cool and judicious Joshua Rigg had not allowed his parent +to perceive that Stone Court was anything less than the chief good +in his estimation, and he had certainly wished to call it his own. +But as Warren Hastings looked at gold and thought of buying Daylesford, +so Joshua Rigg looked at Stone Court and thought of buying gold. +He had a very distinct and intense vision of his chief good, +the vigorous greed which he had inherited having taken a special form +by dint of circumstance: and his chief good was to be a moneychanger. +From his earliest employment as an errand-boy in a seaport, +he had looked through the windows of the moneychangers as other +boys look through the windows of the pastry-cooks; the fascination +had wrought itself gradually into a deep special passion; he meant, +when he had property, to do many things, one of them being to marry +a genteel young person; but these were all accidents and joys that +imagination could dispense with. The one joy after which his soul +thirsted was to have a money-changer's shop on a much-frequented quay, +to have locks all round him of which he held the keys, and to look +sublimely cool as he handled the breeding coins of all nations, +while helpless Cupidity looked at him enviously from the other side +of an iron lattice. The strength of that passion had been a power +enabling him to master all the knowledge necessary to gratify it. +And when others were thinking that he had settled at Stone Court for life, +Joshua himself was thinking that the moment now was not far off when he +should settle on the North Quay with the best appointments in safes +and locks. + +Enough. We are concerned with looking at Joshua Rigg's sale of his +land from Mr. Bulstrode's point of view, and he interpreted it +as a cheering dispensation conveying perhaps a sanction to a purpose +which he had for some time entertained without external encouragement; +he interpreted it thus, but not too confidently, offering up his +thanksgiving in guarded phraseology. His doubts did not arise from the +possible relations of the event to Joshua Rigg's destiny, which belonged +to the unmapped regions not taken under the providential government, +except perhaps in an imperfect colonial way; but they arose from +reflecting that this dispensation too might be a chastisement +for himself, as Mr. Farebrother's induction to the living clearly was. + +This was not what Mr. Bulstrode said to any man for the sake of +deceiving him: it was what he said to himself--it was as genuinely +his mode of explaining events as any theory of yours may be, +if you happen to disagree with him. For the egoism which enters +into our theories does not affect their sincerity; rather, the more +our egoism is satisfied, the more robust is our belief. + +However, whether for sanction or for chastisement, Mr. Bulstrode, +hardly fifteen months after the death of Peter Featherstone, +had become the proprietor of Stone Court, and what Peter would +say "if he were worthy to know," had become an inexhaustible and +consolatory subject of conversation to his disappointed relatives. +The tables were now turned on that dear brother departed, +and to contemplate the frustration of his cunning by the superior +cunning of things in general was a cud of delight to Solomon. +Mrs. Waule had a melancholy triumph in the proof that it did +not answer to make false Featherstones and cut off the genuine; +and Sister Martha receiving the news in the Chalky Flats said, +"Dear, dear! then the Almighty could have been none so pleased +with the almshouses after all." + +Affectionate Mrs. Bulstrode was particularly glad of the advantage +which her husband's health was likely to get from the purchase of +Stone Court. Few days passed without his riding thither and looking +over some part of the farm with the bailiff, and the evenings were +delicious in that quiet spot, when the new hay-ricks lately set up were +sending forth odors to mingle with the breath of the rich old garden. +One evening, while the sun was still above the horizon and burning +in golden lamps among the great walnut boughs, Mr. Bulstrode was +pausing on horseback outside the front gate waiting for Caleb Garth, +who had met him by appointment to give an opinion on a question +of stable drainage, and was now advising the bailiff in the rick-yard. + +Mr. Bulstrode was conscious of being in a good spiritual frame and more +than usually serene, under the influence of his innocent recreation. +He was doctrinally convinced that there was a total absence of merit +in himself; but that doctrinal conviction may be held without pain +when the sense of demerit does not take a distinct shape in memory +and revive the tingling of shame or the pang of remorse. Nay, it may +be held with intense satisfaction when the depth of our sinning +is but a measure for the depth of forgiveness, and a clenching +proof that we are peculiar instruments of the divine intention. +The memory has as many moods as the temper, and shifts its scenery +like a diorama. At this moment Mr. Bulstrode felt as if the +sunshine were all one with that of far-off evenings when he was +a very young man and used to go out preaching beyond Highbury. +And he would willingly have had that service of exhortation +in prospect now. The texts were there still, and so was his own +facility in expounding them. His brief reverie was interrupted +by the return of Caleb Garth, who also was on horseback, +and was just shaking his bridle before starting, when he exclaimed-- + +"Bless my heart! what's this fellow in black coming along the lane? +He's like one of those men one sees about after the races." + +Mr. Bulstrode turned his horse and looked along the lane, but made +no reply. The comer was our slight acquaintance Mr. Raffles, +whose appearance presented no other change than such as was due +to a suit of black and a crape hat-band. He was within three yards +of the horseman now, and they could see the flash of recognition +in his face as he whirled his stick upward, looking all the while +at Mr. Bulstrode, and at last exclaiming:-- + +"By Jove, Nick, it's you! I couldn't be mistaken, though the +five-and-twenty years have played old Boguy with us both! How are you, +eh? you didn't expect to see ME here. Come, shake us by the hand." +To say that Mr. Raffles' manner was rather excited would be only +one mode of saying that it was evening. Caleb Garth could see +that there was a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode, +but it ended in his putting out his hand coldly to Raffles and saying-- + +"I did not indeed expect to see you in this remote country place." + +"Well, it belongs to a stepson of mine," said Raffles, adjusting himself +in a swaggering attitude. "I came to see him here before. I'm not +so surprised at seeing you, old fellow, because I picked up a letter-- +what you may call a providential thing. It's uncommonly fortunate +I met you, though; for I don't care about seeing my stepson: +he's not affectionate, and his poor mother's gone now. To tell +the truth, I came out of love to you, Nick: I came to get your +address, for--look here!" Raffles drew a crumpled paper from his pocket. + +Almost any other man than Caleb Garth might have been tempted to +linger on the spot for the sake of hearing all he could about a man +whose acquaintance with Bulstrode seemed to imply passages in the +banker's life so unlike anything that was known of him in Middlemarch +that they must have the nature of a secret to pique curiosity. +But Caleb was peculiar: certain human tendencies which are commonly +strong were almost absent from his mind; and one of these was +curiosity about personal affairs. Especially if there was anything +discreditable to be found out concerning another man, Caleb preferred +not to know it; and if he had to tell anybody under him that his evil +doings were discovered, he was more embarrassed than the culprit. +He now spurred his horse, and saying, "I wish you good evening, +Mr. Bulstrode; I must be getting home," set off at a trot. + +"You didn't put your full address to this letter," Raffles continued. +"That was not like the first-rate man of business you used to be. +`The Shrubs,'--they may be anywhere: you live near at hand, eh?-- +have cut the London concern altogether--perhaps turned country squire-- +have a rural mansion to invite me to. Lord, how many years it is ago! +The old lady must have been dead a pretty long while--gone to glory +without the pain of knowing how poor her daughter was, eh? But, by Jove! +you're very pale and pasty, Nick. Come, if you're going home, +I'll walk by your side." + +Mr. Bulstrode's usual paleness had in fact taken an almost deathly hue. +Five minutes before, the expanse of his life had been submerged in its +evening sunshine which shone backward to its remembered morning: +sin seemed to be a question of doctrine and inward penitence, +humiliation an exercise of the closet, the bearing of his deeds a matter +of private vision adjusted solely by spiritual relations and conceptions +of the divine purposes. And now, as if by some hideous magic, +this loud red figure had risen before him in unmanageable solidity-- +an incorporate past which had not entered into his imagination +of chastisements. But Mr. Bulstrode's thought was busy, and he +was not a man to act or speak rashly. + +"I was going home," he said, "but I can defer my ride a little. +And you can, if you please, rest here." + +"Thank you," said Raffles, making a grimace. "I don't care now +about seeing my stepson. I'd rather go home with you." + +"Your stepson, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he, is here no longer. +I am master here now." + +Raffles opened wide eyes, and gave a long whistle of surprise, +before he said, "Well then, I've no objection. I've had enough walking +from the coach-road. I never was much of a walker, or rider either. +What I like is a smart vehicle and a spirited cob. I was always +a little heavy in the saddle. What a pleasant surprise it must be +to you to see me, old fellow!" he continued, as they turned towards +the house. "You don't say so; but you never took your luck heartily-- +you were always thinking of improving the occasion--you'd such a gift +for improving your luck." + +Mr. Raffles seemed greatly to enjoy his own wit, and Swung his leg +in a swaggering manner which was rather too much for his companion's +judicious patience. + +"If I remember rightly," Mr. Bulstrode observed, with chill anger, +"our acquaintance many years ago had not the sort of intimacy +which you are now assuming, Mr. Raffles. Any services you desire +of me will be the more readily rendered if you will avoid a tone +of familiarity which did not lie in our former intercourse, and can +hardly be warranted by more than twenty years of separation." + +"You don't like being called Nick? Why, I always called you +Nick in my heart, and though lost to sight, to memory dear. +By Jove! my feelings have ripened for you like fine old cognac. +I hope you've got some in the house now. Josh filled my flask well +the last time." + +Mr. Bulstrode had not yet fully learned that even the desire +for cognac was not stronger in Raffles than the desire to torment, +and that a hint of annoyance always served him as a fresh cue. +But it was at least clear that further objection was useless, +and Mr. Bulstrode, in giving orders to the housekeeper for the +accommodation of the guest, had a resolute air of quietude. + +There was the comfort of thinking that this housekeeper had been in +the service of Rigg also, and might accept the idea that Mr. Bulstrode +entertained Raffles merely as a friend of her former master. + +When there was food and drink spread before his visitor in the +wainscoted parlor, and no witness in the room, Mr. Bulstrode said-- + +"Your habits and mine are so different, Mr. Raffles, that we can +hardly enjoy each other's society. The wisest plan for both of us +will therefore be to part as soon as possible. Since you say +that you wished to meet me, you probably considered that you had +some business to transact with me. But under the circumstances I +will invite you to remain here for the night, and I will myself +ride over here early to-morrow morning--before breakfast, in fact, +when I can receive any Communication you have to make to me." + +"With all my heart," said Raffles; "this is a comfortable place-- +a little dull for a continuance; but I can put up with it for +a night, with this good liquor and the prospect of seeing you again +in the morning. You're a much better host than my stepson was; +but Josh owed me a bit of a grudge for marrying his mother; +and between you and me there was never anything but kindness." + +Mr. Bulstrode, hoping that the peculiar mixture of joviality +and sneering in Raffles' manner was a good deal the effect +of drink, had determined to wait till he was quite sober before +he spent more words upon him. But he rode home with a terribly +lucid vision of the difficulty there would be in arranging +any result that could be permanently counted on with this man. +It was inevitable that he should wish to get rid of John Raffles, +though his reappearance could not be regarded as lying outside +the divine plan. The spirit of evil might have sent him to threaten +Mr. Bulstrode's subversion as an instrument of good; but the threat +must have been permitted, and was a chastisement of a new kind. +It was an hour of anguish for him very different from the hours +in which his struggle had been securely private, and which had +ended with a sense that his secret misdeeds were pardoned and his +services accepted. Those misdeeds even when committed--had they +not been half sanctified by the singleness of his desire to devote +himself and all he possessed to the furtherance of the divine scheme? +And was he after all to become a mere stone of stumbling and a +rock of offence? For who would understand the work within him? +Who would not, when there was the pretext of casting disgrace +upon him, confound his whole life and the truths he had espoused, +in one heap of obloquy? + +In his closest meditations the life-long habit of Mr. Bulstrode's +mind clad his most egoistic terrors in doctrinal references +to superhuman ends. But even while we are talking and meditating +about the earth's orbit and the solar system, what we feel and +adjust our movements to is the stable earth and the changing day. +And now within all the automatic succession of theoretic phrases-- +distinct and inmost as the shiver and the ache of oncoming fever +when we are discussing abstract pain, was the forecast of disgrace +in the presence of his neighbors and of his own wife. For the pain, +as well as the public estimate of disgrace, depends on the amount +of previous profession. To men who only aim at escaping felony, +nothing short of the prisoner's dock is disgrace. But Mr. Bulstrode +had aimed at being an eminent Christian. + +It was not more than half-past seven in the morning when he again +reached Stone Court. The fine old place never looked more like a +delightful home than at that moment; the great white lilies were +in flower, the nasturtiums, their pretty leaves all silvered with dew, +were running away over the low stone wall; the very noises all +around had a heart of peace within them. But everything was spoiled +for the owner as he walked on the gravel in front and awaited +the descent of Mr. Raffles, with whom he was condemned to breakfast. + +It was not long before they were seated together in the wainscoted +parlor over their tea and toast, which was as much as Raffles cared +to take at that early hour. The difference between his morning +and evening self was not so great as his companion had imagined +that it might be; the delight in tormenting was perhaps even the +stronger because his spirits were rather less highly pitched. +Certainly his manners seemed more disagreeable by the morning light. + +"As I have little time to spare, Mr. Raffles," said the banker, +who could hardly do more than sip his tea and break his toast +without eating it, "I shall be obliged if you will mention at once +the ground on which you wished to meet with me. I presume that you +have a home elsewhere and will be glad to return to it." + +"Why, if a man has got any heart, doesn't he want to see an +old friend, Nick?--I must call you Nick--we always did call you +young Nick when we knew you meant to marry the old widow. Some said +you had a handsome family likeness to old Nick, but that was your +mother's fault, calling you Nicholas. Aren't you glad to see me again? +I expected an invite to stay with you at some pretty place. My own +establishment is broken up now my wife's dead. I've no particular +attachment to any spot; I would as soon settle hereabout as anywhere." + +"May I ask why you returned from America? I considered that the strong +wish you expressed to go there, when an adequate sum was furnished, +was tantamount to an engagement that you would remain there for life." + +"Never knew that a wish to go to a place was the same thing as a +wish to stay. But I did stay a matter of ten years; it didn't +suit me to stay any longer. And I'm not going again, Nick." +Here Mr. Raffles winked slowly as he looked at Mr. Bulstrode. + +"Do you wish to be settled in any business? What is your calling now?" + +"Thank you, my calling is to enjoy myself as much as I can. +I don't care about working any more. If I did anything it would be +a little travelling in the tobacco line--or something of that sort, +which takes a man into agreeable company. But not without +an independence to fall back upon. That's what I want: I'm not +so strong as I was, Nick, though I've got more color than you. +I want an independence." + +"That could be supplied to you, if you would engage to keep at +a distance," said Mr. Bulstrode, perhaps with a little too much +eagerness in his undertone. + +"That must be as it suits my convenience," said Raffles coolly. "I see +no reason why I shouldn't make a few acquaintances hereabout. I'm not +ashamed of myself as company for anybody. I dropped my portmanteau at +the turnpike when I got down--change of linen--genuine--honor bright-- +more than fronts and wristbands; and with this suit of mourning, +straps and everything, I should do you credit among the nobs here." +Mr. Raffles had pushed away hit chair and looked down at himself, +particularly at his straps His chief intention was to annoy Bulstrode, +but he really thought that his appearance now would produce +a good effect, and that he was not only handsome and witty, +but clad in a mourning style which implied solid connections. + +"If you intend to rely on me in any way, Mr. Raffles," said Bulstrode, +after a moment's pause, "you will expect to meet my wishes." + +"Ah, to be sure," said Raffles, with a mocking cordiality. +"Didn't I always do it? Lord, you made a pretty thing out of me, +and I got but little. I've often thought since, I might have done +better by telling the old woman that I'd found her daughter and +her grandchild: it would have suited my feelings better; I've got +a soft place in my heart. But you've buried the old lady by this time, +I suppose--it's all one to her now. And you've got your fortune +out of that profitable business which had such a blessing on it. +You've taken to being a nob, buying land, being a country bashaw. +Still in the Dissenting line, eh? Still godly? Or taken to the Church +as more genteel?" + +This time Mr. Raffles' slow wink and slight protrusion of his +tongue was worse than a nightmare, because it held the certitude +that it was not a nightmare, but a waking misery. Mr. Bulstrode +felt a shuddering nausea, and did not speak, but was considering +diligently whether he should not leave Raffles to do as he would, +and simply defy him as a slanderer. The man would soon show +himself disreputable enough to make people disbelieve him. +"But not when he tells any ugly-looking truth about YOU," +said discerning consciousness. And again: it seemed no wrong to keep +Raffles at a distance, but Mr. Bulstrode shrank from the direct +falsehood of denying true statements. It was one thing to look back on +forgiven sins, nay, to explain questionable conformity to lax customs, +and another to enter deliberately on the necessity of falsehood. + +But since Bulstrode did not speak, Raffles ran on, by way of using +time to the utmost. + +"I've not had such fine luck as you, by Jove! Things went +confoundedly with me in New York; those Yankees are cool hands, +and a man of gentlemanly feelings has no chance with them. I married +when I came back--a nice woman in the tobacco trade--very fond of me-- +but the trade was restricted, as we say. She had been settled +there a good many years by a friend; but there was a son too much +in the case. Josh and I never hit it off. However, I made the most +of the position, and I've always taken my glass in good company. +It's been all on the square with me; I'm as open as the day. +You won't take it ill of me that I didn't look you up before. +I've got a complaint that makes me a little dilatory. I thought you were +trading and praying away in London still, and didn't find you there. +But you see I was sent to you, Nick--perhaps for a blessing to both +of us." + +Mr. Raffles ended with a jocose snuffle: no man felt his intellect +more superior to religious cant. And if the cunning which calculates +on the meanest feelings in men could be, called intellect, he had +his share, for under the blurting rallying tone with which he +spoke to Bulstrode, there was an evident selection of statements, +as if they had been so many moves at chess. Meanwhile Bulstrode +had determined on his move, and he said, with gathered resolution-- + +"You will do well to reflect, Mr. Raffles, that it is possible for a +man to overreach himself in the effort to secure undue advantage. +Although I am not in any way bound to you, I am willing to supply +you with a regular annuity--in quarterly payments--so long as you +fulfil a promise to remain at a distance from this neighborhood. +It is in your power to choose. If you insist on remaining here, +even for a short time, you will get nothing from me. I shall decline +to know you." + +"Ha, ha!" said Raffles, with an affected explosion, "that reminds +me of a droll dog of a thief who declined to know the constable." + +"Your allusions are lost on me sir," said Bulstrode, with white heat; +"the law has no hold on me either through your agency or any other." + +"You can't understand a joke, my good fellow. I only meant +that I should never decline to know you. But let us be serious. +Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me. I like my freedom." + +Here Raffles rose and stalked once or twice up and down the room, +swinging his leg, and assuming an air of masterly meditation. +At last he stopped opposite Bulstrode, and said, "I'll tell +you what! Give us a couple of hundreds--come, that's modest-- +and I'll go away--honor bright!--pick up my portmanteau and go away. +But I shall not give up my Liberty for a dirty annuity. I shall +come and go where I like. Perhaps it may suit me to stay away, +and correspond with a friend; perhaps not. Have you the money +with you?" + +"No, I have one hundred," said Bulstrode, feeling the immediate riddance +too great a relief to be rejected on the ground of future uncertainties. +"I will forward you the other if you will mention an address." + +"No, I'll wait here till you bring it," said Raffles. "I'll take +a stroll and have a snack, and you'll be back by that time." + +Mr. Bulstrode's sickly body, shattered by the agitations he +had gone through since the last evening, made him feel abjectly +in the power of this loud invulnerable man. At that moment +he snatched at a temporary repose to be won on any terms. +He was rising to do what Raffles suggested, when the latter said, +lifting up his finger as if with a sudden recollection-- + +"I did have another look after Sarah again, though I didn't +tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. +I didn't find her, but I found out her husband's name, and I made +a note of it. But hang it, I lost my pocketbook. However, if I +heard it, I should know it again. I've got my faculties as if I +was in my prime, but names wear out, by Jove! Sometimes I'm no +better than a confounded tax-paper before the names are filled in. +However, if I hear of her and her family, you shall know, Nick. +You'd like to do something for her, now she's your step-daughter." + +"Doubtless," said Mr. Bulstrode, with the usual steady look of his +light-gray eyes; "though that might reduce my power of assisting you." + +As he walked out of the room, Raffles winked slowly at his back, +and then turned towards the window to watch the banker riding away-- +virtually at his command. His lips first curled with a smile and then +opened with a short triumphant laugh. + +"But what the deuce was the name?" he presently said, half aloud, +scratching his head, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. He had +not really cared or thought about this point of forgetfulness until +it occurred to him in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. + +"It began with L; it was almost all l's I fancy," he went on, +with a sense that he was getting hold of the slippery name. +But the hold was too slight, and he soon got tired of this mental chase; +for few men were more impatient of private occupation or more +in need of making themselves continually heard than Mr. Raffles. +He preferred using his time in pleasant conversation with the bailiff +and the housekeeper, from whom he gathered as much as he wanted to +know about Mr. Bulstrode's position in Middlemarch. + +After all, however, there was a dull space of time which needed relieving +with bread and cheese and ale, and when he was seated alone with these +resources in the wainscoted parlor, he suddenly slapped his knee, +and exclaimed, "Ladislaw!" That action of memory which he had tried +to set going, and had abandoned in despair, had suddenly completed +itself without conscious effort--a common experience, agreeable as +a completed sneeze, even if the name remembered is of no value. +Raffles immediately took out his pocket-book, and wrote down the name, +not because he expected to use it, but merely for the sake of not +being at a loss if he ever did happen to want it. He was not going +to tell Bulstrode: there was no actual good in telling, and to +a mind like that of Mr. Raffles there is always probable good in a secret. + +He was satisfied with his present success, and by three o'clock that day +he had taken up his portmanteau at the turnpike and mounted the coach, +relieving Mr. Bulstrode's eyes of an ugly black spot on the landscape +at Stone Court, but not relieving him of the dread that the black spot +might reappear and become inseparable even from the vision of his hearth. + +BOOK VI. + +THE WIDOW AND THE WIFE. + +CHAPTER LIV. + + "Negli occhi porta la mia donna Amore; + Per che si fa gentil eio ch'ella mira: + Ov'ella passa, ogni uom ver lei si gira, + E cui saluta fa tremar lo core. + + Sicche, bassando il viso, tutto smore, + E d'ogni suo difetto allor sospira: + Fuggon dinanzi a lei Superbia ed Ira: + Aiutatemi, donne, a farle onore. + + Ogni dolcezza, ogni pensiero umile + Nasee nel core a chi parlar la sente; + Ond' e beato chi prima la vide. + Quel ch'ella par quand' un poco sorride, + Non si pub dicer, ne tener a mente, + Si e nuovo miracolo gentile." + --DANTE: la Vita Nuova. + +By that delightful morning when the hay-ricks at Stone Court were +scenting the air quite impartially, as if Mr. Raffles had been +a guest worthy of finest incense, Dorothea had again taken up +her abode at Lowick Manor. After three months Freshitt had become +rather oppressive: to sit like a model for Saint Catherine looking +rapturously at Celia's baby would not do for many hours in the day, +and to remain in that momentous babe's presence with persistent +disregard was a course that could not have been tolerated in a +childless sister. Dorothea would have been capable of carrying +baby joyfully for a mile if there had been need, and of loving +it the more tenderly for that labor; but to an aunt who does not +recognize her infant nephew as Bouddha, and has nothing to do for him but +to admire, his behavior is apt to appear monotonous, and the interest +of watching him exhaustible. This possibility was quite hidden +from Celia, who felt that Dorothea's childless widowhood fell in quite +prettily with the birth of little Arthur (baby was named after Mr. Brooke). + +"Dodo is just the creature not to mind about having anything of her own-- +children or anything!" said Celia to her husband. "And if she +had had a baby, it never could have been such a dear as Arthur. +Could it, James? + +"Not if it had been like Casaubon," said Sir James, conscious of +some indirectness in his answer, and of holding a strictly private +opinion as to the perfections of his first-born. + +"No! just imagine! Really it was a mercy," said Celia; "and I think +it is very nice for Dodo to be a widow. She can be just as fond +of our baby as if it were her own, and she can have as many notions +of her own as she likes." + +"It is a pity she was not a queen," said the devout Sir James. + +"But what should we have been then? We must have been something else," +said Celia, objecting to so laborious a flight of imagination. +"I like her better as she is." + +Hence, when she found that Dorothea was making arrangements for her final +departure to Lowick, Celia raised her eyebrows with disappointment, +and in her quiet unemphatic way shot a needle-arrow of sarcasm. + +"What will you do at Lowick, Dodo? You say yourself there is +nothing to be done there: everybody is so clean and well off, +it makes you quite melancholy. And here you have been so happy +going all about Tipton with Mr. Garth into the worst backyards. +And now uncle is abroad, you and Mr. Garth can have it all your own way; +and I am sure James does everything you tell him." + +"I shall often come here, and I shall see how baby grows all +the better," said Dorothea. + +"But you will never see him washed," said Celia; "and that is quite +the best part of the day." She was almost pouting: it did seem +to her very hard in Dodo to go away from the baby when she might stay. + +"Dear Kitty, I will come and stay all night on purpose," +said Dorothea; "but I want to be alone now, and in my own home. +I wish to know the Farebrothers better, and to talk to Mr. Farebrother +about what there is to be done in Middlemarch." + +Dorothea's native strength of will was no longer all converted into +resolute submission. She had a great yearning to be at Lowick, +and was simply determined to go, not feeling bound to tell all +her reasons. But every one around her disapproved. Sir James was +much pained, and offered that they should all migrate to Cheltenham +for a few months with the sacred ark, otherwise called a cradle: +at that period a man could hardly know what to propose if Cheltenham +were rejected. + +The Dowager Lady Chettam, just returned from a visit to her daughter +in town, wished, at least, that Mrs. Vigo should be written to, +and invited to accept the office of companion to Mrs. Casaubon: +it was not credible that Dorothea as a young widow would think +of living alone in the house at Lowick. Mrs. Vigo had been reader +and secretary to royal personages, and in point of knowledge and +sentiments even Dorothea could have nothing to object to her. + +Mrs. Cadwallader said, privately, "You will certainly go mad in +that house alone, my dear. You will see visions. We have all got +to exert ourselves a little to keep sane, and call things by the same +names as other people call them by. To be sure, for younger sons +and women who have no money, it is a sort of provision to go mad: +they are taken care of then. But you must not run into that. +I dare say you are a little bored here with our good dowager; +but think what a bore you might become yourself to your fellow-creatures +if you were always playing tragedy queen and taking things sublimely. +Sitting alone in that library at Lowick you may fancy yourself +ruling the weather; you must get a few people round you who wouldn't +believe you if you told them. That is a good lowering medicine." + +"I never called everything by the same name that all the people +about me did," said Dorothea, stoutly. + +"But I suppose you have found out your mistake, my dear," +said Mrs. Cadwallader, "and that is a proof of sanity." + +Dorothea was aware of the sting, but it did not hurt her. +"No," she said, "I still think that the greater part of the world +is mistaken about many things. Surely one may be sane and yet +think so, since the greater part of the world has often had to come +round from its opinion." + +Mrs. Cadwallader said no more on that point to Dorothea, but to her +husband she remarked, "It will be well for her to marry again as soon +as it is proper, if one could get her among the right people. +Of course the Chettams would not wish it. But I see clearly +a husband is the best thing to keep her in order. If we were not +so poor I would invite Lord Triton. He will be marquis some day, +and there is no denying that she would make a good marchioness: +she looks handsomer than ever in her mourning." + +"My dear Elinor, do let the poor woman alone. Such contrivances +are of no use," said the easy Rector. + +"No use? How are matches made, except by bringing men and +women together? And it is a shame that her uncle should have run +away and shut up the Grange just now. There ought to be plenty +of eligible matches invited to Freshitt and the Grange. Lord Triton +is precisely the man: full of plans for making the people happy +in a soft-headed sort of way. That would just suit Mrs. Casaubon." + +"Let Mrs. Casaubon choose for herself, Elinor." + +"That is the nonsense you wise men talk! How can she choose +if she has no variety to choose from? A woman's choice usually +means taking the only man she can get. Mark my words, Humphrey. +If her friends don't exert themselves, there will be a worse +business than the Casaubon business yet." + +"For heaven's sake don't touch on that topic, Elinor! It is a +very sore point with Sir James He would be deeply offended if you +entered on it to him unnecessarily." + +"I have never entered on it," said Mrs Cadwallader, opening her hands. +"Celia told me all about the will at the beginning, without any +asking of mine." + +"Yes, yes; but they want the thing hushed up, and I understand +that the young fellow is going out of the neighborhood." + +Mrs. Cadwallader said nothing, but gave her husband three +significant nods, with a very sarcastic expression in her dark eyes. + +Dorothea quietly persisted in spite of remonstrance and persuasion. +So by the end of June the shutters were all opened at Lowick Manor, +and the morning gazed calmly into the library, shining on the rows +of note-books as it shines on the weary waste planted with huge +stones, the mute memorial of a forgotten faith; and the evening +laden with roses entered silently into the blue-green boudoir +where Dorothea chose oftenest to sit. At first she walked into +every room, questioning the eighteen months of her married life, +and carrying on her thoughts as if they were a speech to be heard +by her husband. Then, she lingered in the library and could not +be at rest till she had carefully ranged all the note-books as she +imagined that he would wish to see them, in orderly sequence. +The pity which had been the restraining compelling motive in her life +with him still clung about his image, even while she remonstrated +with him in indignant thought and told him that he was unjust. +One little act of hers may perhaps be smiled at as superstitious. +The Synoptical Tabulation for the use of Mrs. Casaubon, she +carefully enclosed and sealed, writing within the envelope, +"I could not use it. Do you not see now that I could not submit +my soul to yours, by working hopelessly at what I have no belief +in--Dorothea?" Then she deposited the paper in her own desk. + +That silent colloquy was perhaps only the more earnest because underneath +and through it all there was always the deep longing which had really +determined her to come to Lowick. The longing was to see Will Ladislaw. +She did not know any good that could come of their meeting: +she was helpless; her hands had been tied from making up to him +for any unfairness in his lot. But her soul thirsted to see him. +How could it be otherwise? If a princess in the days of enchantment +had seen a four-footed creature from among those which live in herds +come to her once and again with a human gaze which rested upon her +with choice and beseeching, what would she think of in her journeying, +what would she look for when the herds passed her? Surely for +the gaze which had found her, and which she would know again. +Life would be no better than candle-light tinsel and daylight +rubbish if our spirits were not touched by what has been, to issues +of longing and constancy. It was true that Dorothea wanted to know +the Farebrothers better, and especially to talk to the new rector, +but also true that remembering what Lydgate had told her about +Will Ladislaw and little Miss Noble, she counted on Will's coming +to Lowick to see the Farebrother family. The very first Sunday, +BEFORE she entered the church, she saw him as she had seen +him the last time she was there, alone in the clergyman's pew; +but WHEN she entered his figure was gone. + +In the week-days when she went to see the ladies at the Rectory, +she listened in vain for some word that they might let fall about Will; +but it seemed to her that Mrs. Farebrother talked of every one else +in the neighborhood and out of it. + +"Probably some of Mr. Farebrother's Middlemarch hearers may follow +him to Lowick sometimes. Do you not think so?" said Dorothea, +rather despising herself for having a secret motive in asking +the question. + +"If they are wise they will, Mrs. Casaubon," said the old lady. +"I see that you set a right value on my son's preaching. His grandfather +on my side was an excellent clergyman, but his father was in the law:-- +most exemplary and honest nevertheless, which is a reason for our +never being rich. They say Fortune is a woman and capricious. +But sometimes she is a good woman and gives to those who merit, +which has been the case with you, Mrs. Casaubon, who have given a +living to my son." + +Mrs. Farebrother recurred to her knitting with a dignified satisfaction +in her neat little effort at oratory, but this was not what Dorothea +wanted to hear. Poor thing! she did not even know whether Will Ladislaw +was still at Middlemarch, and there was no one whom she dared to ask, +unless it were Lydgate. But just now she could not see Lydgate +without sending for him or going to seek him. Perhaps Will Ladislaw, +having heard of that strange ban against him left by Mr. Casaubon, +had felt it better that he and she should not meet again, and perhaps +she was wrong to wish for a meeting that others might find many good +reasons against. Still "I do wish it" came at the end of those +wise reflections as naturally as a sob after holding the breath. +And the meeting did happen, but in a formal way quite unexpected by her. + +One morning, about eleven, Dorothea was seated in her boudoir with a +map of the land attached to the manor and other papers before her, +which were to help her in making an exact statement for herself +of her income and affairs. She had not yet applied herself +to her work, but was seated with her hands folded on her lap, +looking out along the avenue of limes to the distant fields. +Every leaf was at rest in the sunshine, the familiar scene +was changeless, and seemed to represent the prospect of her life, +full of motiveless ease--motiveless, if her own energy could not +seek out reasons for ardent action. The widow's cap of those times +made an oval frame for the face, and had a crown standing up; +the dress was an experiment in the utmost laying on of crape; +but this heavy solemnity of clothing made her face look all the younger, +with its recovered bloom, and the sweet, inquiring candor of her eyes. + +Her reverie was broken by Tantripp, who came to say that Mr. Ladislaw +was below, and begged permission to see Madam if it were not too early. + +"I will see him," said Dorothea, rising immediately. "Let him +be shown into the drawing-room." + +The drawing-room was the most neutral room in the house to her-- +the one least associated with the trials of her married life: +the damask matched the wood-work, which was all white and gold; +there were two tall mirrors and tables with nothing on them-- +in brief, it was a room where you had no reason for sitting in one +place rather than in another. It was below the boudoir, and had +also a bow-window looking out on the avenue. But when Pratt showed +Will Ladislaw into it the window was open; and a winged visitor, +buzzing in and out now and then without minding the furniture, +made the room look less formal and uninhabited. + +"Glad to see you here again, sir," said Pratt, lingering to adjust +a blind. + +"I am only come to say good-by, Pratt," said Will, who wished even +the butler to know that he was too proud to hang about Mrs. Casaubon +now she was a rich widow. + +"Very sorry to hear it, sir," said Pratt, retiring. Of course, +as a servant who was to be told nothing, he knew the fact of +which Ladislaw was still ignorant, and had drawn his inferences; +indeed, had not differed from his betrothed Tantripp when she said, +"Your master was as jealous as a fiend--and no reason. +Madam would look higher than Mr. Ladislaw, else I don't know her. +Mrs. Cadwallader's maid says there's a lord coming who is to marry +her when the mourning's over." + +There were not many moments for Will to walk about with his hat +in his hand before Dorothea entered. The meeting was very different +from that first meeting in Rome when Will had been embarrassed +and Dorothea calm. This time he felt miserable but determined, +while she was in a state of agitation which could not be hidden. +Just outside the door she had felt that this longed-for meeting was +after all too difficult, and when she saw Will advancing towards her, +the deep blush which was rare in her came with painful suddenness. +Neither of them knew how it was, but neither of them spoke. +She gave her hand for a moment, and then they went to sit down +near the window, she on one settee and he on another opposite. +Will was peculiarly uneasy: it seemed to him not like Dorothea +that the mere fact of her being a widow should cause such a change +in her manner of receiving him; and he knew of no other condition +which could have affected their previous relation to each other-- +except that, as his imagination at once told him, her friends +might have been poisoning her mind with their suspicions +of him. + +"I hope I have not presumed too much in calling," said Will; +"I could not bear to leave the neighborhood and begin a new life +without seeing you to say good-by." + +"Presumed? Surely not. I should have thought it unkind if you +had not wished to see me," said Dorothea, her habit of speaking +with perfect genuineness asserting itself through all her uncertainty +and agitation. "Are you going away immediately?" + +"Very soon, I think. I intend to go to town and eat my dinners +as a barrister, since, they say, that is the preparation for all +public business. There will be a great deal of political work +to be done by-and-by, and I mean to try and do some of it. +Other men have managed to win an honorable position for themselves +without family or money." + +"And that will make it all the more honorable," said Dorothea, +ardently. "Besides, you have so many talents. I have heard from +my uncle how well you speak in public, so that every one is sorry +when you leave off, and how clearly you can explain things. +And you care that justice should be done to every one. I am so glad. +When we were in Rome, I thought you only cared for poetry and art, +and the things that adorn life for us who are well off. +But now I know you think about the rest of the world." + +While she was speaking Dorothea had lost her personal embarrassment, +and had become like her former self. She looked at Will with a +direct glance, full of delighted confidence. + +"You approve of my going away for years, then, and never coming +here again till I have made myself of some mark in the world?" +said Will, trying hard to reconcile the utmost pride with the utmost +effort to get an expression of strong feeling from Dorothea. + +She was not aware how long it was before she answered. She had +turned her head and was looking out of the window on the rose-bushes, +which seemed to have in them the summers of all the years when Will +would be away. This was not judicious behavior. But Dorothea never +thought of studying her manners: she thought only of bowing to a sad +necessity which divided her from Will. Those first words of his +about his intentions had seemed to make everything clear to her: +he knew, she supposed, all about Mr. Casaubon's final conduct in +relation to him, and it had come to him with the same sort of shock +as to herself. He had never felt more than friendship for her-- +had never had anything in his mind to justify what she felt to be +her husband's outrage on the feelings of both: and that friendship +he still felt. Something which may be called an inward silent +sob had gone on in Dorothea before she said with a pure voice, +just trembling in the last words as if only from its liquid flexibility-- + +"Yes, it must be right for you to do as you say. I shall be +very happy when I hear that you have made your value felt. +But you must have patience. It will perhaps be a long while." + +Will never quite knew how it was that he saved himself from falling +down at her feet, when the "long while" came forth with its +gentle tremor. He used to say that the horrible hue and surface +of her crape dress was most likely the sufficient controlling force. +He sat still, however, and only said-- + +"I shall never hear from you. And you will forget all about me." + +"No," said Dorothea, "I shall never forget you. I have never +forgotten any one whom I once knew. My life has never been crowded, +and seems not likely to be so. And I have a great deal of space +for memory at Lowick, haven't I?" She smiled. + +"Good God!" Will burst out passionately, rising, with his hat still +in his hand, and walking away to a marble table, where he suddenly +turned and leaned his back against it. The blood had mounted to his +face and neck, and he looked almost angry. It had seemed to him +as if they were like two creatures slowly turning to marble in each +other's presence, while their hearts were conscious and their eyes +were yearning. But there was no help for it. It should never be true +of him that in this meeting to which he had come with bitter resolution +he had ended by a confession which might be interpreted into asking +for her fortune. Moreover, it was actually true that he was fearful +of the effect which such confessions might have on Dorothea herself. + +She looked at him from that distance in some trouble, imagining that +there might hate been an offence in her words. But all the while +there was a current of thought in her about his probable want +of money, and the impossibility of her helping him. If her uncle +had been at home, something might have been done through him! +It was this preoccupation with the hardship of Will's wanting money, +while she had what ought to have been his share, which led her to say, +seeing that he remained silent and looked away from her-- + +"I wonder whether you would like to have that miniature +which hangs up-stairs--I mean that beautiful miniature OF +your grandmother. I think it is not right for me to keep it, +if you would wish to have it. It is wonderfully like you." + +"You are very good," said Will, irritably. "No; I don't mind +about it. It is not very consoling to have one's own likeness. +It would be more consoling if others wanted to have it." + +"I thought you would like to cherish her memory--I thought-- +"Dorothea broke off an instant, her imagination suddenly warning +her away from Aunt Julia's history--"you would surely like to have +the miniature as a family memorial." + +"Why should I have that, when I have nothing else! A man with only +a portmanteau for his stowage must keep his memorials in his head." + +Will spoke at random: he was merely venting his petulance; +it was a little too exasperating to have his grandmother's portrait +offered him at that moment. But to Dorothea's feeling his words +had a peculiar sting. She rose and said with a touch of indignation +as well as hauteur-- + +"You are much the happier of us two, Mr. Ladislaw, to have nothing." + +Will was startled. Whatever the words might be, the tone seemed +like a dismissal; and quitting his leaning posture, he walked +a little way towards her. Their eyes met, but with a strange +questioning gravity. Something was keeping their minds aloof, +and each was left to conjecture what was in the other. Will had +really never thought of himself as having a claim of inheritance +on the property which was held by Dorothea, and would have required +a narrative to make him understand her present feeling. + +"I never felt it a misfortune to have nothing till now," he said. +"But poverty may be as bad as leprosy, if it divides us from what we +most care for." + +The words cut Dorothea to the heart, and made her relent. +She answered in a tone of sad fellowship. + +"Sorrow comes in so many ways. Two years ago I had no notion of that-- +I mean of the unexpected way in which trouble comes, and ties our hands, +and makes us silent when we long to speak. I used to despise women +a little for not shaping their lives more, and doing better things. +I was very fond of doing as I liked, but I have almost given it up," +she ended, smiling playfully. + +"I have not given up doing as I like, but I can very seldom do it," +said Will. He was standing two yards from her with his mind full +of contradictory desires and resolves--desiring some unmistakable +proof that she loved him, and yet dreading the position into which +such a proof might bring him. "The thing one most longs for may +be surrounded with conditions that would be intolerable." + +At this moment Pratt entered and said, "Sir James Chettam +is in the library, madam." + +"Ask Sir James to come in here," said Dorothea, immediately. It was +as if the same electric shock had passed through her and Will. +Each of them felt proudly resistant, and neither looked at the other, +while they awaited Sir James's entrance. + +After shaking hands with Dorothea, he bowed as slightly as possible +to Ladislaw, who repaid the slightness exactly, and then going +towards Dorothea, said-- + +"I must say good-by, Mrs. Casaubon; and probably for a long while." + +Dorothea put out her hand and said her good-by cordially. The sense +that Sir James was depreciating Will, and behaving rudely to him, +roused her resolution and dignity-there was no touch of confusion +in her manner. And when Will had left the room, she looked with +such calm self-possession at Sir James, saying, "How is Celia?" +that he was obliged to behave as if nothing had annoyed him. +And what would be the use of behaving otherwise? Indeed, Sir James +shrank with so much dislike from the association even in thought +of Dorothea with Ladislaw as her possible lover, that he would himself +have wished to avoid an outward show of displeasure which would +have recognized the disagreeable possibility. If any one had asked +him why he shrank in that way, I am not sure that he would at first +have said anything fuller or more precise than "THAT Ladislaw!"-- +though on reflection he might have urged that Mr. Casaubon's codicil, +barring Dorothea's marriage with Will, except under a penalty, +was enough to cast unfitness over any relation at all between them. +His aversion was all the stronger because he felt himself unable +to interfere. + +But Sir James was a power in a way unguessed by himself. Entering +at that moment, he was an incorporation of the strongest reasons +through which Will's pride became a repellent force, keeping him +asunder from Dorothea + +CHAPTER LV. + + Hath she her faults? I would you had them too. + They are the fruity must of soundest wine; + Or say, they are regenerating fire + Such as hath turned the dense black element + Into a crystal pathway for the sun. + +If youth is the season of hope, it is often so only in the sense +that our elders are hopeful about us; for no age is so apt as youth +to think its emotions, partings, and resolves are the last of +their kind. Each crisis seems final, simply because it is new. +We are told that the oldest inhabitants in Peru do not cease to be +agitated by the earthquakes, but they probably see beyond each shock, +and reflect that there are plenty more to come. + +To Dorothea, still in that time of youth when the eyes with their long +full lashes look out after their rain of tears unsoiled and unwearied +as a freshly opened passion-flower, that morning's parting with Will +Ladislaw seemed to be the close of their personal relations. +He was going away into the distance of unknown years, and if ever he +came back he would be another man. The actual state of his mind-- +his proud resolve to give the lie beforehand to any suspicion +that he would play the needy adventurer seeking a rich woman-- +lay quite out of her imagination, and she had interpreted all his +behavior easily enough by her supposition that Mr. Casaubon's codicil +seemed to him, as it did to her, a gross and cruel interdict on +any active friendship between them. Their young delight in speaking +to each other, and saying what no one else would care to hear, +was forever ended, and become a treasure of the past. For this +very reason she dwelt on it without inward check. That unique +happiness too was dead, and in its shadowed silent chamber she +might vent the passionate grief which she herself wondered at. +For the first time she took down the miniature from the wall and kept +it before her, liking to blend the woman who had been too hardly +judged with the grandson whom her own heart and judgment defended. +Can any one who has rejoiced in woman's tenderness think it a reproach +to her that she took the little oval picture in her palm and made +a bed for it there, and leaned her cheek upon it, as if that would +soothe the creatures who had suffered unjust condemnation? +She did not know then that it was Love who had come to her briefly, +as in a dream before awaking, with the hues of morning on his wings-- +that it was Love to whom she was sobbing her farewell as his image +was banished by the blameless rigor of irresistible day. She only +felt that there was something irrevocably amiss and lost in her lot, +and her thoughts about the future were the more readily shapen +into resolve. Ardent souls, ready to construct their coming lives, +are apt to commit themselves to the fulfilment of their own visions. + +One day that she went to Freshitt to fulfil her promise of staying +all night and seeing baby washed, Mrs. Cadwallader came to dine, +the Rector being gone on a fishing excursion. It was a warm evening, +and even in the delightful drawing-room, where the fine old turf sloped +from the open window towards a lilied pool and well-planted mounds, +the heat was enough to make Celia in her white muslin and light curls +reflect with pity on what Dodo must feel in her black dress and +close cap. But this was not until some episodes with baby were over, +and had left her mind at leisure. She had seated herself and taken +up a fan for some time before she said, in her quiet guttural-- + +"Dear Dodo, do throw off that cap. I am sure your dress must make +you feel ill." + +"I am so used to the cap--it has become a sort of shell," +said Dorothea, smiling. "I feel rather bare and exposed when it +is off." + +"I must see you without it; it makes us all warm," said Celia, +throwing down her fan, and going to Dorothea. It was a pretty picture +to see this little lady in white muslin unfastening the widow's +cap from her more majestic sister, and tossing it on to a chair. +Just as the coils and braids of dark-brown hair had been set free, +Sir James entered the room. He looked at the released head, and said, +"Ah!" in a tone of satisfaction. + +"It was I who did it, James," said Celia. "Dodo need not make +such a slavery of her mourning; she need not wear that cap any +more among her friends." + +"My dear Celia," said Lady Chettam, "a widow must wear her +mourning at least a year." + +"Not if she marries again before the end of it," said Mrs. Cadwallader, +who had some pleasure in startling her good friend the Dowager. +Sir James was annoyed, and leaned forward to play with Celia's +Maltese dog. + +"That is very rare, I hope," said Lady Chettam, in a tone intended +to guard against such events. "No friend of ours ever committed +herself in that way except Mrs. Beevor, and it was very painful to +Lord Grinsell when she did so. Her first husband was objectionable, +which made it the greater wonder. And severely she was punished +for it. They said Captain Beevor dragged her about by the hair, +and held up loaded pistols at her." + +"Oh, if she took the wrong man!" said Mrs. Cadwallader, who was in a +decidedly wicked mood. "Marriage is always bad then, first or second. +Priority is a poor recommendation in a husband if he has got no other. +I would rather have a good second husband than an indifferent first." + +"My dear, your clever tongue runs away with you," said Lady Chettam. +"I am sure you would be the last woman to marry again prematurely, +if our dear Rector were taken away." + +"Oh, I make no vows; it might be a necessary economy. It is +lawful to marry again, I suppose; else we might as well be Hindoos +instead of Christians. Of course if a woman accepts the wrong man, +she must take the consequences, and one who does it twice over +deserves her fate. But if she can marry blood, beauty, and bravery-- +the sooner the better." + +"I think the subject of our conversation is very ill-chosen," +said Sir James, with a look of disgust. "Suppose we change it." + +"Not on my account, Sir James," said Dorothea, determined not to lose +the opportunity of freeing herself from certain oblique references +to excellent matches. "If you are speaking on my behalf, I can +assure you that no question can be more indifferent and impersonal +to me than second marriage. It is no more to me than if you talked +of women going fox-hunting: whether it is admirable in them or not, +I shall not follow them. Pray let Mrs. Cadwallader amuse herself +on that subject as much as on any other." + +"My dear Mrs. Casaubon," said Lady Chettam, in her stateliest way, +"you do not, I hope, think there was any allusion to you in my +mentioning Mrs. Beevor. It was only an instance that occurred to me. +She was step-daughter to Lord Grinsell: he married Mrs. Teveroy +for his second wife. There could be no possible allusion to you." + +"Oh no," said Celia. "Nobody chose the subject; it all came out +of Dodo's cap. Mrs. Cadwallader only said what was quite true. +A woman could not be married in a widow's cap, James." + +"Hush, my dear!" said Mrs. Cadwallader. "I will not offend again. +I will not even refer to Dido or Zenobia. Only what are we to +talk about? I, for my part, object to the discussion of Human Nature, +because that is the nature of rectors' wives." + +Later in the evening, after Mrs. Cadwallader was gone, Celia said +privately to Dorothea, "Really, Dodo, taking your cap off made +you like yourself again in more ways than one. You spoke up just +as you used to do, when anything was said to displease you. But I +could hardly make out whether it was James that you thought wrong, +or Mrs. Cadwallader." + +"Neither," said Dorothea. "James spoke out of delicacy to me, but he +was mistaken in supposing that I minded what Mrs. Cadwallader said. +I should only mind if there were a law obliging me to take any piece +of blood and beauty that she or anybody else recommended." + +"But you know, Dodo, if you ever did marry, it would be all the better +to have blood and beauty," said Celia, reflecting that Mr. Casaubon +had not been richly endowed with those gifts, and that it would +be well to caution Dorothea in time. + +"Don't be anxious, Kitty; I have quite other thoughts about my life. +I shall never marry again," said Dorothea, touching her sister's chin, +and looking at her with indulgent affection. Celia was nursing +her baby, and Dorothea had come to say good-night to her. + +"Really--quite?" said Celia. "Not anybody at all--if he were +very wonderful indeed?" + +Dorothea shook her head slowly. "Not anybody at all. I have +delightful plans. I should like to take a great deal of land, +and drain it, and make a little colony, where everybody should work, +and all the work should be done well. I should know every one of the +people and be their friend. I am going to have great consultations +with Mr. Garth: he can tell me almost everything I want to know." + +"Then you WILL be happy, if you have a plan, Dodo?" said Celia. +"Perhaps little Arthur will like plans when he grows up, and then he +can help you." + +Sir James was informed that same night that Dorothea was really +quite set against marrying anybody at all, and was going to take +to "all sorts of plans," just like what she used to have. +Sir James made no remark. To his secret feeling there was something +repulsive in a woman's second marriage, and no match would prevent +him from feeling it a sort of desecration for Dorothea. He was +aware that the world would regard such a sentiment as preposterous, +especially in relation to a woman of one-and-twenty; the practice +of "the world" being to treat of a young widow's second marriage +as certain and probably near, and to smile with meaning if the widow +acts accordingly. But if Dorothea did choose to espouse her solitude, +he felt that the resolution would well become her. + +CHAPTER LVI. + + "How happy is he born and taught + That serveth not another's will; + Whose armor is his honest thought, + And simple truth his only skill! + . . . . . . . + This man is freed from servile bands + Of hope to rise or fear to fall; + Lord of himself though not of lands; + And having nothing yet hath all." + --SIR HENRY WOTTON. + +Dorothea's confidence in Caleb Garth's knowledge, which had begun +on her hearing that he approved of her cottages, had grown fast +during her stay at Freshitt, Sir James having induced her to take +rides over the two estates in company with himself and Caleb, +who quite returned her admiration, and told his wife that Mrs. Casaubon +had a head for business most uncommon in a woman. It must be +remembered that by "business" Caleb never meant money transactions, +but the skilful application of labor. + +"Most uncommon!" repeated Caleb. "She said a thing I often used +to think myself when I was a lad:--`Mr. Garth, I should like +to feel, if I lived to be old, that I had improved a great piece +of land and built a great many good cottages, because the work +is of a healthy kind while it is being done, and after it is done, +men are the better for it.' Those were the very words: she sees +into things in that way." + +"But womanly, I hope," said Mrs. Garth, half suspecting that +Mrs. Casaubon might not hold the true principle of subordination. + +"Oh, you can't think!" said Caleb, shaking his head. "You would +like to hear her speak, Susan. She speaks in such plain words, +and a voice like music. Bless me! it reminds me of bits in the +`Messiah'--`and straightway there appeared a multitude of the +heavenly host, praising God and saying;' it has a tone with it +that satisfies your ear." + +Caleb was very fond of music, and when he could afford it went +to hear an oratorio that came within his reach, returning from it +with a profound reverence for this mighty structure of tones, +which made him sit meditatively, looking on the floor and throwing +much unutterable language into his outstretched hands. + +With this good understanding between them, it was natural that Dorothea +asked Mr. Garth to undertake any business connected with the three +farms and the numerous tenements attached to Lowick Manor; indeed, +his expectation of getting work for two was being fast fulfilled. +As he said, "Business breeds." And one form of business which was +beginning to breed just then was the construction of railways. +A projected line was to run through Lowick parish where the +cattle had hitherto grazed in a peace unbroken by astonishment; +and thus it happened that the infant struggles of the railway system +entered into the affairs of Caleb Garth, and determined the course +of this history with regard to two persons who were dear to him. +The submarine railway may have its difficulties; but the bed of the +sea is not divided among various landed proprietors with claims +for damages not only measurable but sentimental. In the hundred +to which Middlemarch belonged railways were as exciting a topic as the +Reform Bill or the imminent horrors of Cholera, and those who held +the most decided views on the subject were women and landholders. +Women both old and young regarded travelling by steam as presumptuous +and dangerous, and argued against it by saying that nothing should +induce them to get into a railway carriage; while proprietors, +differing from each other in their arguments as much as Mr. Solomon +Featherstone differed from Lord Medlicote, were yet unanimous in the +opinion that in selling land, whether to the Enemy of mankind or to a +company obliged to purchase, these pernicious agencies must be made +to pay a very high price to landowners for permission to injure mankind. + +But the slower wits, such as Mr. Solomon and Mrs. Waule, +who both occupied land of their own, took a long time to +arrive at this conclusion, their minds halting at the vivid +conception of what it would be to cut the Big Pasture in two, +and turn it into three-cornered bits, which would be "nohow;" +while accommodation-bridges and high payments were remote and incredible. + +"The cows will all cast their calves, brother," said Mrs. Waule, in a +tone of deep melancholy, "if the railway comes across the Near Close; +and I shouldn't wonder at the mare too, if she was in foal. +It's a poor tale if a widow's property is to be spaded away, +and the law say nothing to it. What's to hinder 'em from cutting +right and left if they begin? It's well known, _I_ can't fight." + +"The best way would be to say nothing, and set somebody on to send 'em +away with a flea in their ear, when they came spying and measuring," +said Solomon. "Folks did that about Brassing, by what I can understand. +It's all a pretence, if the truth was known, about their being +forced to take one way. Let 'em go cutting in another parish. +And I don't believe in any pay to make amends for bringing a lot +of ruffians to trample your crops. Where's a company's pocket?" + +"Brother Peter, God forgive him, got money out of a company," +said Mrs. Waule. "But that was for the manganese. That wasn't +for railways to blow you to pieces right and left." + +"Well, there's this to be said, Jane," Mr. Solomon concluded, +lowering his voice in a cautious manner--"the more spokes we put +in their wheel, the more they'll pay us to let 'em go on, if they +must come whether or not." + +This reasoning of Mr. Solomon's was perhaps less thorough than +he imagined, his cunning bearing about the same relation to the course +of railways as the cunning of a diplomatist bears to the general +chill or catarrh of the solar system. But he set about acting on his +views in a thoroughly diplomatic manner, by stimulating suspicion. +His side of Lowick was the most remote from the village, and the +houses of the laboring people were either lone cottages or were +collected in a hamlet called Frick, where a water-mill and some +stone-pits made a little centre of slow, heavy-shouldered industry. + +In the absence of any precise idea as to what railways were, +public opinion in Frick was against them; for the human mind in that +grassy corner had not the proverbial tendency to admire the unknown, +holding rather that it was likely to be against the poor man, +and that suspicion was the only wise attitude with regard to it. +Even the rumor of Reform had not yet excited any millennial expectations +in Frick, there being no definite promise in it, as of gratuitous +grains to fatten Hiram Ford's pig, or of a publican at the "Weights +and Scales" who would brew beer for nothing, or of an offer on the +part of the three neighboring farmers to raise wages during winter. +And without distinct good of this kind in its promises, Reform seemed +on a footing with the bragging of pedlers, which was a hint for +distrust to every knowing person. The men of Frick were not ill-fed, +and were less given to fanaticism than to a strong muscular suspicion; +less inclined to believe that they were peculiarly cared for by heaven, +than to regard heaven itself as rather disposed to take them in-- +a disposition observable in the weather. + +Thus the mind of Frick was exactly of the sort for Mr. Solomon +Featherstone to work upon, he having more plenteous ideas of the +same order, with a suspicion of heaven and earth which was better +fed and more entirely at leisure. Solomon was overseer of the +roads at that time, and on his slow-paced cob often took his +rounds by Frick to look at the workmen getting the stones there, +pausing with a mysterious deliberation, which might have misled +you into supposing that he had some other reason for staying +than the mere want of impulse to move. After looking for a long +while at any work that was going on, he would raise his eyes a +little and look at the horizon; finally he would shake his bridle, +touch his horse with the whip, and get it to move slowly onward. +The hour-hand of a clock was quick by comparison with Mr. Solomon, +who had an agreeable sense that he could afford to be slow. +He was in the habit of pausing for a cautious, vaguely designing chat +with every hedger or ditcher on his way, and was especially willing +to listen even to news which he had heard before, feeling himself +at an advantage over all narrators in partially disbelieving them. +One day, however, he got into a dialogue with Hiram Ford, a wagoner, +in which he himself contributed information. He wished to know whether +Hiram had seen fellows with staves and instruments spying about: +they called themselves railroad people, but there was no telling +what they were or what they meant to do. The least they pretended +was that they were going to cut Lowick Parish into sixes and sevens. + +"Why, there'll be no stirrin' from one pla-ace to another," +said Hiram, thinking of his wagon and horses. + +"Not a bit," said Mr. Solomon. "And cutting up fine land such as +this parish! Let 'em go into Tipton, say I. But there's no knowing +what there is at the bottom of it. Traffic is what they put for'ard; +but it's to do harm to the land and the poor man in the long-run." + +"Why, they're Lunnon chaps, I reckon," said Hiram, who had a dim +notion of London as a centre of hostility to the country. + +"Ay, to be sure. And in some parts against Brassing, by what I've +heard say, the folks fell on 'em when they were spying, and broke +their peep-holes as they carry, and drove 'em away, so as they knew +better than come again." + +"It war good foon, I'd be bound," said Hiram, whose fun was much +restricted by circumstances. + +"Well, I wouldn't meddle with 'em myself," said Solomon. +"But some say this country's seen its best days, and the sign is, +as it's being overrun with these fellows trampling right and left, +and wanting to cut it up into railways; and all for the big traffic +to swallow up the little, so as there shan't be a team left on the land, +nor a whip to crack." + +"I'll crack MY whip about their ear'n, afore they bring it +to that, though," said Hiram, while Mr. Solomon, shaking his bridle, +moved onward. + +Nettle-seed needs no digging. The ruin of this countryside by +railroads was discussed, not only at the "Weights and Scales," +but in the hay-field, where the muster of working hands gave +opportunities for talk such as were rarely had through the rural year. + +One morning, not long after that interview between Mr. Farebrother +and Mary Garth, in which she confessed to him her feeling for +Fred Vincy, it happened that her father had some business which took +him to Yoddrell's farm in the direction of Frick: it was to measure +and value an outlying piece of land belonging to Lowick Manor, +which Caleb expected to dispose of advantageously for Dorothea (it +must be confessed that his bias was towards getting the best possible +terms from railroad companies). He put up his gig at Yoddrell's, and in +walking with his assistant and measuring-chain to the scene of his work, +he encountered the party of the company's agents, who were adjusting +their spirit-level. After a little chat he left them, observing that +by-and-by they would reach him again where he was going to measure. +It was one of those gray mornings after light rains, which become +delicious about twelve o'clock, when the clouds part a little, +and the scent of the earth is sweet along the lanes and by the hedgerows. + +The scent would have been sweeter to Fred Vincy, who was coming +along the lanes on horseback, if his mind had not been worried +by unsuccessful efforts to imagine what he was to do, with his +father on one side expecting him straightway to enter the Church, +with Mary on the other threatening to forsake him if he did enter it, +and with the working-day world showing no eager need whatever +of a young gentleman without capital and generally unskilled. +It was the harder to Fred's disposition because his father, +satisfied that he was no longer rebellious, was in good humor with him, +and had sent him on this pleasant ride to see after some greyhounds. +Even when he had fixed on what he should do, there would be the task +of telling his father. But it must be admitted that the fixing, +which had to come first, was the more difficult task:--what secular +avocation on earth was there for a young man (whose friends could +not get him an "appointment") which was at once gentlemanly, +lucrative, and to be followed without special knowledge? +Riding along the lanes by Frick in this mood, and slackening +his pace while he reflected whether he should venture to go round +by Lowick Parsonage to call on Mary, he could see over the hedges +from one field to another. Suddenly a noise roused his attention, +and on the far side of a field on his left hand he could see six +or seven men in smock-frocks with hay-forks in their hands making +an offensive approach towards the four railway agents who were +facing them, while Caleb Garth and his assistant were hastening +across the field to join the threatened group. Fred, delayed a few +moments by having to find the gate, could not gallop up to the spot +before the party in smock-frocks, whose work of turning the hay +had not been too pressing after swallowing their mid-day beer, +were driving the men in coats before them with their hay-forks; +while Caleb Garth's assistant, a lad of seventeen, who had snatched +up the spirit-level at Caleb's order, had been knocked down and +seemed to be lying helpless. The coated men had the advantage +as runners, and Fred covered their retreat by getting in front +of the smock-frocks and charging them suddenly enough to throw +their chase into confusion. "What do you confounded fools mean?" +shouted Fred, pursuing the divided group in a zigzag, and cutting +right and left with his whip. "I'll swear to every one of you +before the magistrate. You've knocked the lad down and killed him, +for what I know. You'll every one of you be hanged at the next assizes, +if you don't mind," said Fred, who afterwards laughed heartily as he +remembered his own phrases. + +The laborers had been driven through the gate-way into their +hay-field, and Fred had checked his horse, when Hiram Ford, +observing himself at a safe challenging distance, turned back +and shouted a defiance which he did not know to be Homeric. + +"Yo're a coward, yo are. Yo git off your horse, young measter, +and I'll have a round wi' ye, I wull. Yo daredn't come on wi'out +your hoss an' whip. I'd soon knock the breath out on ye, I would." + +"Wait a minute, and I'll come back presently, and have a round +with you all in turn, if you like," said Fred, who felt confidence +in his power of boxing with his dearly beloved brethren. But just +now he wanted to hasten back to Caleb and the prostrate youth. + +The lad's ankle was strained, and he was in much pain from it, +but he was no further hurt, and Fred placed him on the horse that he +might ride to Yoddrell's and be taken care of there. + +"Let them put the horse in the stable, and tell the surveyors they +can come back for their traps," said Fred. "The ground is clear now." + +"No, no," said Caleb, "here's a breakage. They'll have to give up +for to-day, and it will be as well. Here, take the things before you +on the horse, Tom. They'll see you coming, and they'll turn back." + +"I'm glad I happened to be here at the right moment, Mr. Garth," +said Fred, as Tom rode away. "No knowing what might have happened +if the cavalry had not come up in time." + +"Ay, ay, it was lucky," said Caleb, speaking rather absently, +and looking towards the spot where he had been at work at the moment +of interruption. "But--deuce take it--this is what comes of men +being fools--I'm hindered of my day's work. I can't get along +without somebody to help me with the measuring-chain. However!" +He was beginning to move towards the spot with a look of vexation, +as if he had forgotten Fred's presence, but suddenly he turned round +and said quickly, "What have you got to do to-day, young fellow?" + +"Nothing, Mr. Garth. I'll help you with pleasure--can I?" said Fred, +with a sense that he should be courting Mary when he was helping +her father. + +"Well, you mustn't mind stooping and getting hot." + +"I don't mind anything. Only I want to go first and have a round +with that hulky fellow who turned to challenge me. It would +be a good lesson for him. I shall not be five minutes." + +"Nonsense!" said Caleb, with his most peremptory intonation. +"I shall go and speak to the men myself. It's all ignorance. +Somebody has been telling them lies. The poor fools don't know +any better." + +"I shall go with you, then," said Fred. + +"No, no; stay where you are. I don't want your young blood. +I can take care of myself." + +Caleb was a powerful man and knew little of any fear except the fear +of hurting others and the fear of having to speechify. But he felt +it his duty at this moment to try and give a little harangue. +There was a striking mixture in him--which came from his having +always been a hard-working man himself--of rigorous notions about +workmen and practical indulgence towards them. To do a good day's +work and to do it well, he held to be part of their welfare, as it +was the chief part of his own happiness; but he had a strong sense +of fellowship with them. When he advanced towards the laborers +they had not gone to work again, but were standing in that form +of rural grouping which consists in each turning a shoulder towards +the other, at a distance of two or three yards. They looked +rather sulkily at Caleb, who walked quickly with one hand in his +pocket and the other thrust between the buttons of his waistcoat, +and had his every-day mild air when he paused among them. + +"Why, my lads, how's this?" he began, taking as usual to brief phrases, +which seemed pregnant to himself, because he had many thoughts lying +under them, like the abundant roots of a plant that just manages to +peep above the water. "How came you to make such a mistake as this? +Somebody has been telling you lies. You thought those men up there +wanted to do mischief." + +"Aw!" was the answer, dropped at intervals by each according +to his degree of unreadiness. + +"Nonsense! No such thing! They're looking out to see which way the +railroad is to take. Now, my lads, you can't hinder the railroad: +it will be made whether you like it or not. And if you go fighting +against it, you'll get yourselves into trouble. The law gives +those men leave to come here on the land. The owner has nothing +to say against it, and if you meddle with them you'll have to do +with the constable and Justice Blakesley, and with the handcuffs +and Middlemarch jail. And you might be in for it now, if anybody +informed against you." + +Caleb paused here, and perhaps the greatest orator could not have +chosen either his pause or his images better for the occasion. + +"But come, you didn't mean any harm. Somebody told you the railroad +was a bad thing. That was a lie. It may do a bit of harm here +and there, to this and to that; and so does the sun in heaven. +But the railway's a good thing." + +"Aw! good for the big folks to make money out on," said old +Timothy Cooper, who had stayed behind turning his hay while +the others had been gone on their spree;--"I'n seen lots o' +things turn up sin' I war a young un--the war an' the peace, +and the canells, an' the oald King George, an' the Regen', an' +the new King George, an' the new un as has got a new ne-ame--an' +it's been all aloike to the poor mon. What's the canells been t' him? +They'n brought him neyther me-at nor be-acon, nor wage to lay by, +if he didn't save it wi' clemmin' his own inside. Times ha' +got wusser for him sin' I war a young un. An' so it'll be wi' +the railroads. They'll on'y leave the poor mon furder behind. +But them are fools as meddle, and so I told the chaps here. +This is the big folks's world, this is. But yo're for the big folks, +Muster Garth, yo are." + +Timothy was a wiry old laborer, of a type lingering in those times-- +who had his savings in a stocking-foot, lived in a lone cottage, +and was not to be wrought on by any oratory, having as little of +the feudal spirit, and believing as little, as if he had not been +totally unacquainted with the Age of Reason and the Rights of Man. +Caleb was in a difficulty known to any person attempting in dark +times and unassisted by miracle to reason with rustics who are in +possession of an undeniable truth which they know through a hard +process of feeling, and can let it fall like a giant's club on your +neatly carved argument for a social benefit which they do not feel. +Caleb had no cant at command, even if he could have chosen to use it; +and he had been accustomed to meet all such difficulties in no other +way than by doing his "business" faithfully. He answered-- + +"If you don't think well of me, Tim, never mind; that's neither here +nor there now. Things may be bad for the poor man--bad they are; +but I want the lads here not to do what will make things worse +for themselves. The cattle may have a heavy load, but it won't +help 'em to throw it over into the roadside pit, when it's partly +their own fodder." + +"We war on'y for a bit o' foon," said Hiram, who was beginning +to see consequences. "That war all we war arter." + +"Well, promise me not to meddle again, and I'll see that nobody +informs against you." + +"I'n ne'er meddled, an' I'n no call to promise," said Timothy. + +"No, but the rest. Come, I'm as hard at work as any of you +to-day, and I can't spare much time. Say you'll be quiet without +the constable." + +"Aw, we wooant meddle--they may do as they loike for oos"-- +were the forms in which Caleb got his pledges; and then he hastened +back to Fred, who had followed him, and watched him in the gateway. + +They went to work, and Fred helped vigorously. His spirits had risen, +and he heartily enjoyed a good slip in the moist earth under +the hedgerow, which soiled his perfect summer trousers. Was it his +successful onset which had elated him, or the satisfaction of helping +Mary's father? Something more. The accidents of the morning had +helped his frustrated imagination to shape an employment for himself +which had several attractions. I am not sure that certain fibres +in Mr. Garth's mind had not resumed their old vibration towards +the very end which now revealed itself to Fred. For the effective +accident is but the touch of fire where there is oil and tow; and it +al ways appeared to Fred that the railway brought the needed touch. +But they went on in silence except when their business demanded speech. +At last, when they had finished and were walking away, Mr. Garth said-- + +"A young fellow needn't be a B. A. to do this sort of work, eh, Fred?" + +"I wish I had taken to it before I had thought of being a B. A.," +said Fred. He paused a moment, and then added, more hesitatingly, +"Do you think I am too old to learn your business, Mr. Garth?" + +"My business is of many sorts, my boy," said Mr. Garth, smiling. +"A good deal of what I know can only come from experience: +you can't learn it off as you learn things out of a book. +But you are young enough to lay a foundation yet." Caleb pronounced +the last sentence emphatically, but paused in some uncertainty. +He had been under the impression lately that Fred had made up his mind +to enter the Church. + +"You do think I could do some good at it, if I were to try?" +said Fred, more eagerly. + +"That depends," said Caleb, turning his head on one side and lowering +his voice, with the air of a man who felt himself to be saying +something deeply religious. "You must be sure of two things: +you must love your work, and not be always looking over the edge +of it, wanting your play to begin. And the other is, you must not +be ashamed of your work, and think it would be more honorable to you +to be doing something else. You must have a pride in your own work +and in learning to do it well, and not be always saying, There's this +and there's that--if I had this or that to do, I might make something +of it. No matter what a man is--I wouldn't give twopence for him"-- +here Caleb's mouth looked bitter, and he snapped his fingers-- +"whether he was the prime minister or the rick-thatcher, if he +didn't do well what he undertook to do." + +"I can never feel that I should do that in being a clergyman," +said Fred, meaning to take a step in argument. + +"Then let it alone, my boy," said Caleb, abruptly, "else you'll +never be easy. Or, if you ARE easy, you'll be a poor stick." + +"That is very nearly what Mary thinks about it," said Fred, coloring. +"I think you must know what I feel for Mary, Mr. Garth: I hope +it does not displease you that I have always loved her better +than any one else, and that I shall never love any one as I love her." + +The expression of Caleb's face was visibly softening while Fred spoke. +But he swung his head with a solemn slowness, and said-- + +"That makes things more serious, Fred, if you want to take Mary's +happiness into your keeping." + +"I know that, Mr. Garth," said Fred, eagerly, "and I would do anything +for HER. She says she will never have me if I go into the Church; +and I shall be the most miserable devil in the world if I lose all hope +of Mary. Really, if I could get some other profession, business-- +anything that I am at all fit for, I would work hard, I would deserve +your good opinion. I should like to have to do with outdoor things. +I know a good deal about land and cattle already. I used to believe, +you know--though you will think me rather foolish for it--that I +should have land of my own. I am sure knowledge of that sort would +come easily to me, especially if I could be under you in any way." + +"Softly, my boy," said Caleb, having the image of "Susan" before +his eyes. "What have you said to your father about all this?" + +"Nothing, yet; but I must tell him. I am only waiting to know +what I can do instead of entering the Church. I am very sorry to +disappoint him, but a man ought to be allowed to judge for himself +when he is four-and-twenty. How could I know when I was fifteen, +what it would be right for me to do now? My education was a mistake." + +"But hearken to this, Fred," said Caleb. "Are you sure Mary +is fond of you, or would ever have you?" + +"I asked Mr. Farebrother to talk to her, because she had forbidden me-- +I didn't know what else to do," said Fred, apologetically. "And he +says that I have every reason to hope, if I can put myself in an +honorable position--I mean, out of the Church I dare say you think it +unwarrantable in me, Mr. Garth, to be troubling you and obtruding my +own wishes about Mary, before I have done anything at all for myself. +Of course I have not the least claim--indeed, I have already a debt +to you which will never be discharged, even when I have been, +able to pay it in the shape of money." + +"Yes, my boy, you have a claim," said Caleb, with much feeling +in his voice. "The young ones have always a claim on the old to +help them forward. I was young myself once and had to do without +much help; but help would have been welcome to me, if it had been +only for the fellow-feeling's sake. But I must consider. Come to +me to-morrow at the office, at nine o'clock. At the office, mind." + +Mr. Garth would take no important step without consulting Susan, +but it must be confessed that before he reached home he had +taken his resolution. With regard to a large number of matters +about which other men are decided or obstinate, he was the most +easily manageable man in the world. He never knew what meat +he would choose, and if Susan had said that they ought to live +in a four-roomed cottage, in order to save, he would have said, +"Let us go," without inquiring into details. But where Caleb's +feeling and judgment strongly pronounced, he was a ruler; +and in spite of his mildness and timidity in reproving, every one +about him knew that on the exceptional occasions when he chose, +he was absolute. He never, indeed, chose to be absolute except on +some one else's behalf. On ninety-nine points Mrs. Garth decided, +but on the hundredth she was often aware that she would have to perform +the singularly difficult task of carrying out her own principle, +and to make herself subordinate. + +"It is come round as I thought, Susan," said Caleb, when they were +seated alone in the evening. He had already narrated the adventure +which had brought about Fred's sharing in his work, but had kept +back the further result. "The children ARE fond of each other-- +I mean, Fred and Mary." + +Mrs. Garth laid her work on her knee, and fixed her penetrating +eyes anxiously on her husband. + +"After we'd done our work, Fred poured it all out to me. He can't +bear to be a clergyman, and Mary says she won't have him if he is one; +and the lad would like to be under me and give his mind to business. +And I've determined to take him and make a man of him." + +"Caleb!" said Mrs. Garth, in a deep contralto, expressive of +resigned astonishment. + +"It's a fine thing to do," said Mr. Garth, settling himself +firmly against the back of his chair, and grasping the elbows. +"I shall have trouble with him, but I think I shall carry +it through. The lad loves Mary, and a true love for a good +woman is a great thing, Susan. It shapes many a rough fellow." + +"Has Mary spoken to you on the subject?" said Mrs Garth, secretly a +little hurt that she had to be informed on it herself. + +"Not a word. I asked her about Fred once; I gave her a bit of a warning. +But she assured me she would never marry an idle self-indulgent man-- +nothing since. But it seems Fred set on Mr. Farebrother to talk to her, +because she had forbidden him to speak himself, and Mr. Farebrother +has found out that she is fond of Fred, but says he must not be +a clergyman. Fred's heart is fixed on Mary, that I can see: +it gives me a good opinion of the lad--and we always liked him, Susan." + +"It is a pity for Mary, I think," said Mrs. Garth. + +"Why--a pity?" + +"Because, Caleb, she might have had a man who is worth twenty +Fred Vincy's." + +"Ah?" said Caleb, with surprise. + +"I firmly believe that Mr. Farebrother is attached to her, +and meant to make her an offer; but of course, now that Fred has +used him as an envoy, there is an end to that better prospect." +There was a severe precision in Mrs. Garth's utterance. She was vexed +and disappointed, but she was bent on abstaining from useless words. + +Caleb was silent a few moments under a conflict of feelings. +He looked at the floor and moved his head and hands in accompaniment +to some inward argumentation. At last he said-- + +"That would have made me very proud and happy, Susan, and I +should have been glad for your sake. I've always felt that your +belongings have never been on a level with you. But you took me, +though I was a plain man." + +"I took the best and cleverest man I had ever known," said Mrs. Garth, +convinced that SHE would never have loved any one who came +short of that mark. + +"Well, perhaps others thought you might have done better. +But it would have been worse for me. And that is what touches me +close about Fred. The lad is good at bottom, and clever enough +to do, if he's put in the right way; and he loves and honors my +daughter beyond anything, and she has given him a sort of promise +according to what he turns out. I say, that young man's soul is +in my hand; and I'll do the best I can for him, so help me God! +It's my duty, Susan." + +Mrs. Garth was not given to tears, but there was a large one +rolling down her face before her husband had finished. It came +from the pressure of various feelings, in which there was much +affection and some vexation. She wiped it away quickly, saying-- + +"Few men besides you would think it a duty to add to their anxieties +in that way, Caleb." + +"That signifies nothing--what other men would think. I've got +a clear feeling inside me, and that I shall follow; and I hope +your heart will go with me, Susan, in making everything as light +as can be to Mary, poor child." + +Caleb, leaning back in his chair, looked with anxious appeal towards +his wife. She rose and kissed him, saying, "God bless you, Caleb! +Our children have a good father." + +But she went out and had a hearty cry to make up for the suppression +of her words. She felt sure that her husband's conduct would +be misunderstood, and about Fred she was rational and unhopeful. +Which would turn out to have the more foresight in it--her rationality +or Caleb's ardent generosity? + +When Fred went to the office the next morning, there was a test +to be gone through which he was not prepared for. + +"Now Fred," said Caleb, "you will have some desk-work. I have always +done a good deal of writing myself, but I can't do without help, +and as I want you to understand the accounts and get the values into +your head, I mean to do without another clerk. So you must buckle to. +How are you at writing and arithmetic?" + +Fred felt an awkward movement of the heart; he had not thought +of desk-work; but he was in a resolute mood, and not going to shrink. +"I'm not afraid of arithmetic, Mr. Garth: it always came easily to me. +I think you know my writing." + +"Let us see," said Caleb, taking up a pen, examining it carefully +and handing it, well dipped, to Fred with a sheet of ruled paper. +"Copy me a line or two of that valuation, with the figures at +the end." + +At that time the opinion existed that it was beneath a gentleman +to write legibly, or with a hand in the least suitable to a clerk. +Fred wrote the lines demanded in a hand as gentlemanly as that of any +viscount or bishop of the day: the vowels were all alike and the +consonants only distinguishable as turning up or down, the strokes +had a blotted solidity and the letters disdained to keep the line-- +in short, it was a manuscript of that venerable kind easy to interpret +when you know beforehand what the writer means. + +As Caleb looked on, his visage showed a growing depression, +but when Fred handed him the paper he gave something like a snarl, +and rapped the paper passionately with the back of his hand. +Bad work like this dispelled all Caleb's mildness. + +"The deuce!" he exclaimed, snarlingly. "To think that this is +a country where a man's education may cost hundreds and hundreds, +and it turns you out this!" Then in a more pathetic tone, +pushing up his spectacles and looking at the unfortunate scribe, +"The Lord have mercy on us, Fred, I can't put up with this!" + +"What can I do, Mr. Garth?" said Fred, whose spirits had sunk very low, +not only at the estimate of his handwriting, but at the vision +of himself as liable to be ranked with office clerks. + +"Do? Why, you must learn to form your letters and keep the line. +What's the use of writing at all if nobody can understand it?" +asked Caleb, energetically, quite preoccupied with the bad quality +of the work. "Is there so little business in the world that you must +be sending puzzles over the country? But that's the way people are +brought up. I should lose no end of time with the letters some people +send me, if Susan did not make them out for me. It's disgusting." +Here Caleb tossed the paper from him. + +Any stranger peeping into the office at that moment might have +wondered what was the drama between the indignant man of business, +and the fine-looking young fellow whose blond complexion was getting +rather patchy as he bit his lip with mortification. Fred was struggling +with many thoughts. Mr. Garth had been so kind and encouraging at +the beginning of their interview, that gratitude and hopefulness had +been at a high pitch, and the downfall was proportionate. He had not +thought of desk-work--in fact, like the majority of young gentlemen, +he wanted an occupation which should be free from disagreeables. +I cannot tell what might have been the consequences if he had not +distinctly promised himself that he would go to Lowick to see +Mary and tell her that he was engaged to work under her father. +He did not like to disappoint himself there. + +"I am very sorry," were all the words that he could muster. +But Mr. Garth was already relenting. + +"We must make the best of it, Fred," he began, with a return to his +usual quiet tone. "Every man can learn to write. I taught myself. +Go at it with a will, and sit up at night if the day-time isn't enough. +We'll be patient, my boy. Callum shall go on with the books +for a bit, while you are learning. But now I must be off," +said Caleb, rising. "You must let your father know our agreement. +You'll save me Callum's salary, you know, when you can write; +and I can afford to give you eighty pounds for the first year, +and more after." + +When Fred made the necessary disclosure to his parents, the relative +effect on the two was a surprise which entered very deeply into +his memory. He went straight from Mr. Garth's office to the warehouse, +rightly feeling that the most respectful way in which he could behave to +his father was to make the painful communication as gravely and formally +as possible. Moreover, the decision would be more certainly understood +to be final, if the interview took place in his father's gravest +hours, which were always those spent in his private room at the warehouse. + +Fred entered on the subject directly, and declared briefly what he +had done and was resolved to do, expressing at the end his regret +that he should be the cause of disappointment to his father, +and taking the blame on his own deficiencies. The regret was genuine, +and inspired Fred with strong, simple words. + +Mr. Vincy listened in profound surprise without uttering even +an exclamation, a silence which in his impatient temperament was a sign +of unusual emotion. He had not been in good spirits about trade +that morning, and the slight bitterness in his lips grew intense +as he listened. When Fred had ended, there was a pause of nearly +a minute, during which Mr. Vincy replaced a book in his desk and turned +the key emphatically. Then he looked at his son steadily, and said-- + +"So you've made up your mind at last, sir?" + +"Yes, father." + +"Very well; stick to it. I've no more to say. You've thrown away +your education, and gone down a step in life, when I had given you +the means of rising, that's all." + +"I am very sorry that we differ, father. I think I can be quite +as much of a gentleman at the work I have undertaken, as if I had +been a curate. But I am grateful to you for wishing to do the best +for me." + +"Very well; I have no more to say. I wash my hands of you. +I only hope, when you have a son of your own he will make a better +return for the pains you spend on him." + +This was very cutting to Fred. His father was using that unfair +advantage possessed by us all when we are in a pathetic situation +and see our own past as if it were simply part of the pathos. +In reality, Mr. Vincy's wishes about his son had had a great deal +of pride, inconsiderateness, and egoistic folly in them. But still +the disappointed father held a strong lever; and Fred felt as if he +were being banished with a malediction. + +"I hope you will not object to my remaining at home, sir?" he said, +after rising to go; "I shall have a sufficient salary to pay for +my board, as of course I should wish to do." + +"Board be hanged!" said Mr. Vincy, recovering himself in his disgust +at the notion that Fred's keep would be missed at his table. +"Of course your mother will want you to stay. But I shall keep no +horse for you, you understand; and you will pay your own tailor. +You will do with a suit or two less, I fancy, when you have to pay +for 'em." + +Fred lingered; there was still something to be said. At last it came. + +"I hope you will shake hands with me, father, and forgive me +the vexation I have caused you." + +Mr. Vincy from his chair threw a quick glance upward at his son, +who had advanced near to him, and then gave his hand, saying hurriedly, +"Yes, yes, let us say no more." + +Fred went through much more narrative and explanation with his mother, +but she was inconsolable, having before her eyes what perhaps her husband +had never thought of, the certainty that Fred would marry Mary Garth, +that her life would henceforth be spoiled by a perpetual infusion +of Garths and their ways, and that her darling boy, with his beautiful +face and stylish air "beyond anybody else's son in Middlemarch," +would be sure to get like that family in plainness of appearance +and carelessness about his clothes. To her it seemed that there +was a Garth conspiracy to get possession of the desirable Fred, +but she dared not enlarge on this opinion, because a slight hint +of it had made him "fly out" at her as he had never done before. +Her temper was too sweet for her to show any anger, but she felt +that her happiness had received a bruise, and for several days merely +to look at Fred made her cry a little as if he were the subject +of some baleful prophecy. Perhaps she was the slower to recover +her usual cheerfulness because Fred had warned her that she must +not reopen the sore question with his father, who had accepted +his decision and forgiven him. If her husband had been vehement +against Fred, she would have been urged into defence of her darling. +It was the end of the fourth day when Mr. Vincy said to her-- + +"Come, Lucy, my dear, don't be so down-hearted. You always have +spoiled the boy, and you must go on spoiling him." + +"Nothing ever did cut me so before, Vincy," said the wife, her fair +throat and chin beginning to tremble again, "only his illness." + +"Pooh, pooh, never mind! We must expect to have trouble with +our children. Don't make it worse by letting me see you out of spirits." + +"Well, I won't," said Mrs. Vincy, roused by this appeal and +adjusting herself with a little shake as of a bird which lays +down its ruffled plumage. + +"It won't do to begin making a fuss about one," said Mr. Vincy, +wishing to combine a little grumbling with domestic cheerfulness. +"There's Rosamond as well as Fred." + +"Yes, poor thing. I'm sure I felt for her being disappointed +of her baby; but she got over it nicely." + +"Baby, pooh! I can see Lydgate is making a mess of his practice, +and getting into debt too, by what I hear. I shall have Rosamond +coming to me with a pretty tale one of these days. But they'll +get no money from me, I know. Let HIS family help him. +I never did like that marriage. But it's no use talking. Ring the +bell for lemons, and don't look dull any more, Lucy. I'll drive you +and Louisa to Riverston to-morrow." + +CHAPTER LVII. + + They numbered scarce eight summers when a name + Rose on their souls and stirred such motions there + As thrill the buds and shape their hidden frame + At penetration of the quickening air: + His name who told of loyal Evan Dhu, + Of quaint Bradwardine, and Vich Ian Vor, + Making the little world their childhood knew + Large with a land of mountain lake and scaur, + And larger yet with wonder love belief + Toward Walter Scott who living far away + Sent them this wealth of joy and noble grief. + The book and they must part, but day by day, + In lines that thwart like portly spiders ran + They wrote the tale, from Tully Veolan. + +The evening that Fred Vincy walked to Lowick parsonage (he +had begun to see that this was a world in which even a spirited +young man must sometimes walk for want of a horse to carry him) +he set out at five o'clock and called on Mrs. Garth by the way, +wishing to assure himself that she accepted their new relations willingly. + +He found the family group, dogs and cats included, under the great +apple-tree in the orchard. It was a festival with Mrs. Garth, +for her eldest son, Christy, her peculiar joy and pride, had come +home for a short holiday--Christy, who held it the most desirable +thing in the world to be a tutor, to study all literatures and be a +regenerate Porson, and who was an incorporate criticism on poor Fred, +a sort of object-lesson given to him by the educational mother. +Christy himself, a square-browed, broad-shouldered masculine edition +of his mother not much higher than Fred's shoulder--which made it +the harder that he should be held superior--was always as simple +as possible, and thought no more of Fred's disinclination to scholarship +than of a giraffe's, wishing that he himself were more of the +same height. He was lying on the ground now by his mother's chair, +with his straw hat laid flat over his eyes, while Jim on the other +side was reading aloud from that beloved writer who has made +a chief part in the happiness of many young lives. The volume was +"Ivanhoe," and Jim was in the great archery scene at the tournament, +but suffered much interruption from Ben, who had fetched his own +old bow and arrows, and was making himself dreadfully disagreeable, +Letty thought, by begging all present to observe his random shots, +which no one wished to do except Brownie, the active-minded but +probably shallow mongrel, while the grizzled Newfoundland lying in +the sun looked on with the dull-eyed neutrality of extreme old age. +Letty herself, showing as to her mouth and pinafore some slight +signs that she had been assisting at the gathering of the cherries +which stood in a coral-heap on the tea-table, was now seated +on the grass, listening open-eyed to the reading. + +But the centre of interest was changed for all by the arrival +of Fred Vincy. When, seating himself on a garden-stool, he said +that he was on his way to Lowick Parsonage, Ben, who had thrown +down his bow, and snatched up a reluctant half-grown kitten instead, +strode across Fred's outstretched leg, and said "Take me!" + +"Oh, and me too," said Letty. + +"You can't keep up with Fred and me," said Ben. + +"Yes, I can. Mother, please say that I am to go," urged Letty, +whose life was much checkered by resistance to her depreciation +as a girl. + +"I shall stay with Christy," observed Jim; as much as to say +that he had the advantage of those simpletons; whereupon Letty +put her hand up to her head and looked with jealous indecision +from the one to the other. + +"Let us all go and see Mary," said Christy, opening his arms. + +"No, my dear child, we must not go in a swarm to the parsonage. +And that old Glasgow suit of yours would never do. Besides, your +father will come home. We must let Fred go alone. He can tell +Mary that you are here, and she will come back to-morrow." + +Christy glanced at his own threadbare knees, and then at Fred's +beautiful white trousers. Certainly Fred's tailoring suggested +the advantages of an English university, and he had a graceful way +even of looking warm and of pushing his hair back with his handkerchief. + +"Children, run away," said Mrs. Garth; "it is too warm to hang +about your friends. Take your brother and show him the rabbits." + +The eldest understood, and led off the children immediately. +Fred felt that Mrs. Garth wished to give him an opportunity of saying +anything he had to say, but he could only begin by observing-- + +"How glad you must be to have Christy here!" + +"Yes; he has come sooner than I expected. He got down from the coach +at nine o'clock, just after his father went out. I am longing for +Caleb to come and hear what wonderful progress Christy is making. +He has paid his expenses for the last year by giving lessons, +carrying on hard study at the same time. He hopes soon to get +a private tutorship and go abroad." + +"He is a great fellow," said Fred, to whom these cheerful +truths had a medicinal taste, "and no trouble to anybody." +After a slight pause, he added, "But I fear you will think +that I am going to be a great deal of trouble to Mr. Garth." + +"Caleb likes taking trouble: he is one of those men who always +do more than any one would have thought of asking them to do," +answered Mrs. Garth. She was knitting, and could either look at +Fred or not, as she chose--always an advantage when one is bent +on loading speech with salutary meaning; and though Mrs. Garth +intended to be duly reserved, she did wish to say something +that Fred might be the better for. + +"I know you think me very undeserving, Mrs. Garth, and with good reason," +said Fred, his spirit rising a little at the perception of something +like a disposition to lecture him. "I happen to have behaved just +the worst to the people I can't help wishing for the most from. +But while two men like Mr. Garth and Mr. Farebrother have not given +me up, I don't see why I should give myself up." Fred thought it +might be well to suggest these masculine examples to Mrs. Garth. + +"Assuredly," said she, with gathering emphasis. "A young man +for whom two such elders had devoted themselves would indeed be +culpable if he threw himself away and made their sacrifices vain." + +Fred wondered a little at this strong language, but only said, +"I hope it will not be so with me, Mrs. Garth, since I have some +encouragement to believe that I may win Mary. Mr. Garth has told +you about that? You were not surprised, I dare say?" Fred ended, +innocently referring only to his own love as probably evident enough. + +"Not surprised that Mary has given you encouragement?" +returned Mrs. Garth, who thought it would be well for Fred to be +more alive to the fact that Mary's friends could not possibly +have wished this beforehand, whatever the Vincys might suppose. +"Yes, I confess I was surprised." + +"She never did give me any--not the least in the world, when I +talked to her myself," said Fred, eager to vindicate Mary. +"But when I asked Mr. Farebrother to speak for me, she allowed him +to tell me there was a hope." + +The power of admonition which had begun to stir in Mrs. Garth had +not yet discharged itself. It was a little too provoking even for +HER self-control that this blooming youngster should flourish +on the disappointments of sadder and wiser people--making a meal +of a nightingale and never knowing it--and that all the while his +family should suppose that hers was in eager need of this sprig; +and her vexation had fermented the more actively because of its total +repression towards her husband. Exemplary wives will sometimes +find scapegoats in this way. She now said with energetic decision, +"You made a great mistake, Fred, in asking Mr. Farebrother to speak +for you." + +"Did I?" said Fred, reddening instantaneously. He was alarmed, +but at a loss to know what Mrs. Garth meant, and added, +in an apologetic tone, "Mr. Farebrother has always been such +a friend of ours; and Mary, I knew, would listen to him gravely; +and he took it on himself quite readily." + +"Yes, young people are usually blind to everything but their own wishes, +and seldom imagine how much those wishes cost others," said Mrs. Garth +She did not mean to go beyond this salutary general doctrine, +and threw her indignation into a needless unwinding of her worsted, +knitting her brow at it with a grand air. + +"I cannot conceive how it could be any pain to Mr. Farebrother," +said Fred, who nevertheless felt that surprising conceptions were +beginning to form themselves. + +"Precisely; you cannot conceive," said Mrs. Garth, cutting her words +as neatly as possible. + +For a moment Fred looked at the horizon with a dismayed anxiety, +and then turning with a quick movement said almost sharply-- + +"Do you mean to say, Mrs. Garth, that Mr. Farebrother is in love +with Mary?" + +"And if it were so, Fred, I think you are the last person who +ought to be surprised," returned Mrs. Garth, laying her knitting +down beside her and folding her arms. It was an unwonted sign +of emotion in her that she should put her work out of her hands. +In fact her feelings were divided between the satisfaction of giving +Fred his discipline and the sense of having gone a little too far. +Fred took his hat and stick and rose quickly. + +"Then you think I am standing in his way, and in Mary's too?" +he said, in a tone which seemed to demand an answer. + +Mrs. Garth could not speak immediately. She had brought herself into +the unpleasant position of being called on to say what she really felt, +yet what she knew there were strong reasons for concealing. +And to her the consciousness of having exceeded in words was +peculiarly mortifying. Besides, Fred had given out unexpected +electricity, and he now added, "Mr. Garth seemed pleased that +Mary should be attached to me. He could not have known anything of this." + +Mrs. Garth felt a severe twinge at this mention of her husband, the fear +that Caleb might think her in the wrong not being easily endurable. +She answered, wanting to check unintended consequences-- + +"I spoke from inference only. I am not aware that Mary knows +anything of the matter." + +But she hesitated to beg that he would keep entire silence on a +subject which she had herself unnecessarily mentioned, not being +used to stoop in that way; and while she was hesitating there +was already a rush of unintended consequences under the apple-tree +where the tea-things stood. Ben, bouncing across the grass with +Brownie at his heels, and seeing the kitten dragging the knitting +by a lengthening line of wool, shouted and clapped his hands; +Brownie barked, the kitten, desperate, jumped on the tea-table and +upset the milk, then jumped down again and swept half the cherries +with it; and Ben, snatching up the half-knitted sock-top, fitted +it over the kitten's head as a new source of madness, while Letty +arriving cried out to her mother against this cruelty--it was a +history as full of sensation as "This is the house that Jack built." +Mrs. Garth was obliged to interfere, the other young ones came up +and the tete-a-tete with Fred was ended. He got away as soon +as he could, and Mrs. Garth could only imply some retractation +of her severity by saying "God bless you" when she shook hands with him. + +She was unpleasantly conscious that she had been on the verge +of speaking as "one of the foolish women speaketh"--telling first +and entreating silence after. But she had not entreated silence, +and to prevent Caleb's blame she determined to blame herself and +confess all to him that very night. It was curious what an awful +tribunal the mild Caleb's was to her, whenever he set it up. +But she meant to point out to him that the revelation might do Fred +Vincy a great deal of good. + +No doubt it was having a strong effect on him as he walked to Lowick. +Fred's light hopeful nature had perhaps never had so much of a +bruise as from this suggestion that if he had been out of the way +Mary might have made a thoroughly good match. Also he was piqued +that he had been what he called such a stupid lout as to ask that +intervention from Mr. Farebrother. But it was not in a lover's nature-- +it was not in Fred's, that the new anxiety raised about Mary's +feeling should not surmount every other. Notwithstanding his +trust in Mr. Farebrother's generosity, notwithstanding what Mary +had said to him, Fred could not help feeling that he had a rival: +it was a new consciousness, and he objected to it extremely, +not being in the least ready to give up Mary for her good, being ready +rather to fight for her with any man whatsoever. But the fighting +with Mr. Farebrother must be of a metaphorical kind, which was much +more difficult to Fred than the muscular. Certainly this experience +was a discipline for Fred hardly less sharp than his disappointment +about his uncle's will. The iron had not entered into his soul, +but he had begun to imagine what the sharp edge would be. +It did not once occur to Fred that Mrs. Garth might be mistaken +about Mr. Farebrother, but he suspected that she might be wrong +about Mary. Mary had been staying at the parsonage lately, and her +mother might know very little of what had been passing in her mind. + +He did not feel easier when he found her looking cheerful with the +three ladies in the drawing-room. They were in animated discussion +on some subject which was dropped when he entered, and Mary +was copying the labels from a heap of shallow cabinet drawers, +in a minute handwriting which she was skilled in. Mr. Farebrother +was somewhere in the village, and the three ladies knew nothing +of Fred's peculiar relation to Mary: it was impossible for either +of them to propose that they should walk round the garden, +and Fred predicted to himself that he should have to go away without +saying a word to her in private. He told her first of Christy's +arrival and then of his own engagement with her father; and he +was comforted by seeing that this latter news touched her keenly. +She said hurriedly, "I am so glad," and then bent over her writing +to hinder any one from noticing her face. But here was a subject +which Mrs. Farebrother could not let pass. + +"You don't mean, my dear Miss Garth, that you are glad to hear +of a young man giving up the Church for which he was educated: +you only mean that things being so, you are glad that he should be +under an excellent man like your father." + +"No, really, Mrs. Farebrother, I am glad of both, I fear," +said Mary, cleverly getting rid of one rebellious tear. +"I have a dreadfully secular mind. I never liked any clergyman +except the Vicar of Wakefield and Mr. Farebrother." + +"Now why, my dear?" said Mrs. Farebrother, pausing on her large +wooden knitting-needles and looking at Mary. "You have always +a good reason for your opinions, but this astonishes me. +Of course I put out of the question those who preach new doctrine. +But why should you dislike clergymen?" + +"Oh dear," said Mary, her face breaking into merriment as she +seemed to consider a moment, "I don't like their neckcloths." + +"Why, you don't like Camden's, then," said Miss Winifred, +in some anxiety. + +"Yes, I do," said Mary. "I don't like the other clergymen's neckcloths, +because it is they who wear them." + +"How very puzzling!" said Miss Noble, feeling that her own intellect +was probably deficient. + +"My dear, you are joking. You would have better reasons +than these for slighting so respectable a class of men," +said Mrs. Farebrother, majestically. + +"Miss Garth has such severe notions of what people should be that it +is difficult to satisfy her," said Fred. + +"Well, I am glad at least that she makes an exception in favor +of my son," said the old lady. + +Mary was wondering at Fred's piqued tone, when Mr. Farebrother came +in and had to hear the news about the engagement under Mr. Garth. +At the end he said with quiet satisfaction, "THAT is right;" +and then bent to look at Mary's labels and praise her handwriting. +Fred felt horribly jealous--was glad, of course, that Mr. Farebrother +was so estimable, but wished that he had been ugly and fat as men +at forty sometimes are. It was clear what the end would be, +since Mary openly placed Farebrother above everybody, and these +women were all evidently encouraging the affair. He, was feeling +sure that he should have no chance of speaking to Mary, +when Mr. Farebrother said-- + +"Fred, help me to carry these drawers back into my study-- +you have never seen my fine new study. Pray come too, Miss Garth. +I want you to see a stupendous spider I found this morning." + +Mary at once saw the Vicar's intention. He had never since the +memorable evening deviated from his old pastoral kindness towards her, +and her momentary wonder and doubt had quite gone to sleep. +Mary was accustomed to think rather rigorously of what was probable, +and if a belief flattered her vanity she felt warned to dismiss it +as ridiculous, having early had much exercise in such dismissals. +It was as she had foreseen: when Fred had been asked to admire the +fittings of the study, and she had been asked to admire the spider, +Mr. Farebrother said-- + +"Wait here a minute or two. I am going to look out an engraving +which Fred is tall enough to hang for me. I shall be back in a +few minutes." And then he went out. Nevertheless, the first +word Fred said to Mary was-- + +"It is of no use, whatever I do, Mary. You are sure to marry +Farebrother at last." There was some rage in his tone. + +"What do you mean, Fred?" Mary exclaimed indignantly, blushing deeply, +and surprised out of all her readiness in reply. + +"It is impossible that you should not see it all clearly enough-- +you who see everything." + +"I only see that you are behaving very ill, Fred, in speaking so +of Mr. Farebrother after he has pleaded your cause in every way. +How can you have taken up such an idea?" + +Fred was rather deep, in spite of his irritation. If Mary +had really been unsuspicious, there was no good in telling +her what Mrs. Garth-had said. + +"It follows as a matter of course," he replied. "When you are +continually seeing a man who beats me in everything, and whom +you set up above everybody, I can have no fair chance." + +"You are very ungrateful, Fred," said Mary. "I wish I had never +told Mr. Farebrother that I cared for you in the least." + +"No, I am not ungrateful; I should be the happiest fellow in the +world if it were not for this. I told your father everything, +and he was very kind; he treated me as if I were his son. +I could go at the work with a will, writing and everything, if it +were not for this." + +"For this? for what?" said Mary, imagining now that something +specific must have been said or done. + +"This dreadful certainty that I shall be bowled out by Farebrother." +Mary was appeased by her inclination to laugh. + +"Fred," she said, peeping round to catch his eyes, which were +sulkily turned away from her, "you are too delightfully ridiculous. +If you were not such a charming simpleton, what a temptation +this would be to play the wicked coquette, and let you suppose +that somebody besides you has made love to me." + +"Do you really like me best, Mary?" said Fred, turning eyes full +of affection on her, and trying to take her hand. + +"I don't like you at all at this moment," said Mary, retreating, +and putting her hands behind her. "I only said that no mortal +ever made love to me besides you. And that is no argument +that a very wise man ever will," she ended, merrily. + +"I wish you would tell me that you could not possibly ever think +of him," said Fred. + +"Never dare to mention this any more to me, Fred," said Mary, +getting serious again. "I don't know whether it is more stupid +or ungenerous in you not to see that Mr: Farebrother has left us +together on purpose that we might speak freely. I am disappointed +that you should be so blind to his delicate feeling." + +There was no time to say any more before Mr. Farebrother came back +with the engraving; and Fred had to return to the drawing-room still +with a jealous dread in his heart, but yet with comforting arguments +from Mary's words and manner. The result of the conversation was on +the whole more painful to Mary: inevitably her attention had taken +a new attitude, and she saw the possibility of new interpretations. +She was in a position in which she seemed to herself to be slighting +Mr. Farebrother, and this, in relation to a man who is much honored, +is always dangerous to the firmness of a grateful woman. +To have a reason for going home the next day was a relief, for Mary +earnestly desired to be always clear that she loved Fred best. +When a tender affection has been storing itself in us through many +of our years, the idea that we could accept any exchange for it +seems to be a cheapening of our lives. And we can set a watch over +our affections and our constancy as we can over other treasures. + +"Fred has lost all his other expectations; he must keep this," +Mary said to herself, with a smile curling her lips. It was +impossible to help fleeting visions of another kind--new dignities +and an acknowledged value of which she had often felt the absence. +But these things with Fred outside them, Fred forsaken and looking +sad for the want of her, could never tempt her deliberate thought. + +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 make +the sort of appeal which he foresaw. She had not yet had any +anxiety about ways and means, although her domestic life had been +expensive as well as eventful. Her baby had been born prematurely, +and all the embroidered robes and caps had to be laid by in darkness. +This misfortune was attributed entirely to her having persisted +in going out on horseback one day when her husband had desired her +not to do so; but it must not be supposed that she had shown temper +on the occasion, or rudely told him that she would do as she liked. + +What led her particularly to desire horse-exercise was a visit from +Captain Lydgate, the baronet's third son, who, I am sorry to say, +was detested by our Tertius of that name as a vapid fop "parting +his hair from brow to nape in a despicable fashion" (not followed +by Tertius himself), and showing an ignorant security that he knew +the proper thing to say on every topic. Lydgate inwardly cursed his +own folly that he had drawn down this visit by consenting to go to his +uncle's on the wedding-tour, and he made himself rather disagreeable +to Rosamond by saying so in private. For to Rosamond this visit +was a source of unprecedented but gracefully concealed exultation. +She was so intensely conscious of having a cousin who was a baronet's +son staying in the house, that she imagined the knowledge of what +was implied by his presence to be diffused through all other minds; +and when she introduced Captain Lydgate to her guests, she had +a placid sense that his rank penetrated them as if it had been +an odor. The satisfaction was enough for the time to melt away +some disappointment in the conditions of marriage with a medical man +even of good birth: it seemed now that her marriage was visibly +as well as ideally floating her above the Middlemarch level, and the +future looked bright with letters and visits to and from Quallingham, +and vague advancement in consequence for Tertius. Especially as, +probably at the Captain's suggestion, his married sister, Mrs. Mengan, +had come with her maid, and stayed two nights on her way from town. +Hence it was clearly worth while for Rosamond to take pains with +her music and the careful selection of her lace. + +As to Captain Lydgate himself, his low brow, his aquiline nose +bent on one side, and his rather heavy utterance, might have been +disadvantageous in any young gentleman who had not a military bearing +and mustache to give him what is doted on by some flower-like blond +heads as "style." He had, moreover, that sort of high-breeding +which consists in being free from the petty solicitudes of +middle-class gentility, and he was a great critic of feminine charms. +Rosamond delighted in his admiration now even more than she had +done at Quallingham, and he found it easy to spend several hours +of the day in flirting with her. The visit altogether was one +of the pleasantest larks he had ever had, not the less so perhaps +because he suspected that his queer cousin Tertius wished him away: +though Lydgate, who would rather (hyperbolically speaking) have died +than have failed in polite hospitality, suppressed his dislike, +and only pretended generally not to hear what the gallant officer said, +consigning the task of answering him to Rosamond. For he was not +at all a jealous husband, and preferred leaving a feather-headed +young gentleman alone with his wife to bearing him company. + +"I wish you would talk more to the Captain at dinner, Tertius," +said Rosamond, one evening when the important guest was gone +to Loamford to see some brother officers stationed there. +"You really look so absent sometimes--you seem to be seeing +through his head into something behind it, instead of looking at him." + +"My dear Rosy, you don't expect me to talk much to such a conceited +ass as 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 so contemptuously," +said Rosamond, her fingers moving at her work while she 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 he +ever met with. Ladislaw has almost forsaken the house since he came." + +Rosamond thought she knew perfectly well why Mr. Ladislaw disliked +the Captain: he was jealous, and she liked his being jealous. + +"It is impossible to say what will suit eccentric persons," +she answered, "but in my opinion Captain Lydgate is a thorough +gentleman, and I think you ought not, out of respect to Sir Godwin, +to treat him with neglect." + +"No, dear; but we have had dinners for him. And he comes in and +goes out as he likes. He doesn't want me" + +"Still, when he is in the room, you might show him more attention. +He may not be a phoenix of cleverness in your sense; his profession +is different; but it would be all the better for you to talk a little +on his subjects. _I_ think his conversation is quite agreeable. +And he is 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 not exactly tender, and certainly not merry. +Rosamond was silent and did not smile again; but the lovely +curves of her face looked good-tempered enough without smiling. + +Those words of Lydgate's were like a sad milestone marking how far +he had travelled from his old dreamland, in which Rosamond Vincy +appeared to be that perfect piece of womanhood who would reverence +her husband's mind after the fashion of an accomplished mermaid, +using her comb and looking-glass and singing her song for the +relaxation of his adored wisdom alone. He had begun to distinguish +between that imagined adoration and the attraction towards a man's +talent because it gives him prestige, and is like an order in his +button-hole or an Honorable before his name. + +It might have been supposed that Rosamond had travelled too, +since she had found the pointless conversation of Mr. Ned Plymdale +perfectly wearisome; but to most mortals there is a stupidity +which is unendurable and a stupidity which is altogether acceptable-- +else, indeed, what would become of social bonds? Captain Lydgate's +stupidity was delicately scented, carried itself with "style," +talked with a good accent, and was closely related to Sir Godwin. +Rosamond found it quite agreeable and caught many of its phrases. + +Therefore since Rosamond, as we know, was fond of horseback, +there were plenty of reasons why she should be tempted to resume +her riding when Captain Lydgate, who had ordered his man with +two horses to follow him and put up at the "Green Dragon," +begged her to go out on the gray which he warranted to be gentle +and trained to carry a lady--indeed, he had bought it for his sister, +and was taking it to Quallingham. Rosamond went out the first time +without telling her husband, and came back before his return; +but the ride had been so thorough a success, and she declared +herself so much the better in consequence, that he was informed +of it with full reliance on his consent that she should go riding again. + +On the contrary Lydgate was more than hurt--he was utterly +confounded that she had risked herself on a strange horse without +referring the matter to his wish. After the first almost +thundering exclamations of astonishment, which sufficiently +warned Rosamond of what was coming, he was silent for some moments. + +"However, you have come back safely," he said, at last, in a +decisive tone. "You will not go again, Rosy; that is understood. +If it were the quietest, most familiar horse in the world, +there would always be the chance of accident. And you know very +well that I wished you to give 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 I say you are not to go again." + +Rosamond was arranging her hair before dinner, and the reflection +of her head in the glass showed no change in its loveliness except +a little turning aside of the long neck. Lydgate had been moving +about with his hands in his pockets, and now paused near her, +as if he awaited some assurance. + +"I wish you would fasten up my plaits, dear," said Rosamond, letting her +arms fall with a little sigh, so as to make a husband ashamed of standing +there like a brute. Lydgate had often fastened the plaits before, +being among the deftest of men with his large finely formed fingers. +He swept up the soft festoons of plaits and fastened in the tall +comb (to such uses do men come!); and what could he do then but kiss +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 +offer you 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 will +leave the subject to me." + +There did seem to be some truth in her objection. Lydgate said, +"Very well," with a surly obedience, and thus the discussion ended +with his promising Rosamond, and not with her promising him. + +In fact, she had been determined not to promise. Rosamond had +that victorious obstinacy which never wastes its energy in +impetuous resistance. What she liked to do was to her the right thing, +and all her cleverness was directed to getting the means of doing it. +She meant to go out riding again on the gray, and she did go on +the next opportunity of her husband's absence, not intending that +he should know until it was late enough not to signify to her. +The temptation was certainly great: she was very fond of the exercise, +and the gratification of riding on a fine horse, with Captain Lydgate, +Sir Godwin's son, on another fine horse by her side, and of being met +in this position by any one but her husband, was something as good as +her dreams before marriage: moreover she was riveting the connection +with the family at Quallingham, which must be a wise thing to do. + +But the gentle gray, unprepared for the crash of a tree that was +being felled on the edge of Halsell wood, took fright, and caused +a worse fright to Rosamond, leading finally to the loss of her baby. +Lydgate could not show his anger towards her, but he was rather +bearish to the Captain, whose visit naturally soon came to an end. + +In all future conversations on the subject, Rosamond was mildly +certain that the ride had made no difference, and that if she had +stayed at home the same symptoms would have come on and would have +ended in the same way, because she had felt something like them before. + +Lydgate could only say, "Poor, poor darling!"--but he secretly wondered +over the terrible tenacity of this mild creature. There was gathering +within him an amazed sense of his powerlessness over Rosamond. +His superior knowledge and mental force, instead of being, as he +had imagined, a shrine to consult on all occasions, was simply set +aside on every practical question. He had regarded Rosamond's +cleverness as precisely of the receptive kind which became a woman. +He was now beginning to find out what that cleverness was--what was +the shape into which it had run as into a close network aloof +and independent. No one quicker than Rosamond to see causes and +effects which lay within the track of her own tastes and interests: +she had seen clearly Lydgate's preeminence in Middlemarch society, +and could go on imaginatively tracing still more agreeable social +effects when his talent should have advanced him; but for her, +his professional and scientific ambition had no other relation +to these desirable effects than if they had been the fortunate +discovery of an ill-smelling oil. And that oil apart, +with which she had nothing to do, of course she believed in her own +opinion more than she did in his. Lydgate was astounded to find +in numberless trifling matters, as well as in this last serious +case of the riding, that affection did not make her compliant. +He had no doubt that the affection was there, and had no presentiment +that he had done anything to repel it. For his own part he said +to himself that he loved her as tenderly as ever, and could make up +his mind-to her negations; but--well! Lydgate was much worried, +and conscious of new elements in his life as noxious to him as an +inlet of mud to a creature that has been used to breathe and bathe +and dart after its illuminated prey in the clearest of waters. + +Rosamond was soon looking lovelier than ever at her worktable, +enjoying drives in her father's phaeton and thinking it likely +that she might be invited to Quallingham. She knew that she +was a much more exquisite ornament to the drawing-room there than +any daughter of the family, and in reflecting that the gentlemen +were aware of that, did not perhaps sufficiently consider whether +the ladies would be eager to see themselves surpassed. + +Lydgate, relieved from anxiety about her, relapsed into what she +inwardly called his moodiness--a name which to her covered +his thoughtful preoccupation with other subjects than herself, +as well as that uneasy look of the brow and distaste for all ordinary +things as if they were mixed with bitter herbs, which really +made a sort of weather-glass to his vexation and foreboding. +These latter states of mind had one cause amongst others, which he +had generously but mistakenly avoided mentioning to Rosamond, +lest it should affect her health and spirits. Between him and her +indeed there was that total missing of each other's mental track, +which is too evidently possible even between persons who are +continually thinking of each other. To Lydgate it seemed that he +had been spending month after month in sacrificing more than half +of his best intent and best power to his tenderness for Rosamond; +bearing her little claims and interruptions without impatience, and, +above all, bearing without betrayal of bitterness to look through +less and less of interfering illusion at the blank unreflecting +surface her mind presented to his ardor for the more impersonal +ends of his profession and his scientific study, an ardor which he +had fancied that the ideal wife must somehow worship as sublime, +though not in the least knowing why. But his endurance was mingled +with a self-discontent which, if we know how to be candid, we shall +confess to make more than half our bitterness under grievances, +wife or husband included. It always remains true that if we had +been greater, circumstance would have been less strong against us. +Lydgate was aware that his concessions to Rosamond were often +little more than the lapse of slackening resolution, the creeping +paralysis apt to seize an enthusiasm which is out of adjustment +to a constant portion of our lives. And on Lydgate's enthusiasm +there was constantly pressing not a simple weight of sorrow, +but the biting presence of a petty degrading care, such as casts +the blight of irony over all higher effort. + +This was the care which he had hitherto abstained from mentioning +to Rosamond; and he believed, with some wonder, that it had never entered +her mind, though certainly no difficulty could be less mysterious. +It was an inference with a conspicuous handle to it, and had been +easily drawn by indifferent observers, that Lydgate was in debt; +and he could not succeed in keeping out of his mind for long together +that he was every day getting deeper into that swamp, which tempts +men towards it with such a pretty covering of flowers and verdure. +It is wonderful how soon a man gets up to his chin there--in a condition +in which, spite of himself, he is forced to think chiefly of release, +though he had a scheme of the universe in his soul. + +Eighteen months ago Lydgate was poor, but had never known the eager +want of small sums, and felt rather a burning contempt for any one +who descended a step in order to gain them. He was now experiencing +something worse than a simple deficit: he was assailed by the +vulgar hateful trials of a man who has bought and used a great +many things which 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 or +knowledge of prices. When a man in setting up a house and preparing +for marriage finds that his furniture and other initial expenses +come to between four and five hundred pounds more than he has +capital to pay for; when at the end of a year it appears that his +household expenses, horses and et caeteras, amount to nearly a thousand, +while the proceeds of the practice reckoned from the old books +to be worth eight hundred per annum have sunk like a summer pond +and make hardly five hundred, chiefly in unpaid entries, the plain +inference is that, whether he minds it or not, he is in debt. +Those were less expensive times than our own, and provincial life +was comparatively modest; but the ease with which a medical man +who had lately bought a practice, who thought that he was obliged +to keep two horses, whose table was supplied without stint, and who +paid an insurance on his life and a high rent for house and garden, +might find his expenses doubling his receipts, can be conceived by +any one who does not think these details beneath his consideration. +Rosamond, accustomed from her to an extravagant household, +thought that good housekeeping consisted simply in ordering the +best of everything--nothing else "answered;" and Lydgate supposed +that "if things were done at all, they must be done properly"-- +he did not see how they were to live otherwise. If each head +of household expenditure had been mentioned to him beforehand, +he would have probably observed that "it could hardly come to much," +and if any one had suggested a saving on a particular article-- +for example, the substitution of cheap fish for dear-- +it would have appeared to him simply a penny-wise, mean notion. +Rosamond, even without such an occasion as Captain Lydgate's visit, +was fond of giving invitations, and Lydgate, though he often thought +the guests tiresome, did not interfere. This sociability seemed +a necessary part of professional prudence, and the entertainment +must be suitable. It is true Lydgate was constantly visiting +the homes of the poor and adjusting his prescriptions of diet +to their small means; but, dear me! has it not by this time ceased +to be remarkable--is it not rather that we expect in men, that they +should have numerous strands of experience lying side by side +and never compare them with each other? Expenditure--like ugliness +and errors--becomes a totally new thing when we attach our own +personality to it, and measure it by that wide difference which is +manifest (in our own sensations) between ourselves and others. +Lydgate believed himself to be careless about his dress, and he +despised a man who calculated the effects of his costume; it seemed +to him only a matter of course that he had abundance of fresh garments-- +such things were naturally ordered in sheaves. It must be remembered +that he had never hitherto felt the check of importunate debt, +and he walked by habit, not by self-criticism. But the check had come. + +Its novelty made it the more irritating. He was amazed, +disgusted that conditions so foreign to all his purposes, so hatefully +disconnected with the objects he cared to occupy himself with, +should have lain in ambush and clutched him when he was unaware. +And there was not only the actual debt; there was the certainty +that in his present position he must go on deepening it. +Two furnishing tradesmen at Brassing, whose bills had been incurred +before his marriage, and whom uncalculated current expenses had +ever since prevented him from paying, had repeatedly sent him +unpleasant letters which had forced themselves on his attention. +This could hardly have been more galling to any disposition than +to Lydgate's, with his intense pride--his dislike of asking a favor +or being under an obligation to any one. He had scorned even to form +conjectures about Mr. Vincy's intentions on money matters, and nothing +but extremity could have induced him to apply to his father-in-law, +even if he had not been made aware in various indirect ways since +his marriage that Mr. Vincy's own affairs were not flourishing, +and that the expectation of help from him would be resented. +Some men easily trust in the readiness of friends; it had never in +the former part of his life occurred to Lydgate that he should need +to do so: he had never thought what borrowing would be to him; +but now that the idea had entered his mind, he felt that he would +rather incur any other hardship. In the mean time he had no money +or prospects of money; and his practice was not getting more lucrative. + +No wonder that Lydgate had been unable to suppress all signs +of inward trouble during the last few months, and now that +Rosamond was regaining brilliant health, he meditated taking her +entirely into confidence on his difficulties. New conversance +with tradesmen's bills had forced his reasoning into a new +channel of comparison: he had begun to consider from a new point +of view what was necessary and unnecessary in goods ordered, +and to see that there must be some change of habits. How could +such a change be made without Rosamond's concurrence? The immediate +occasion of opening the disagreeable fact to her was forced upon him. + +Having no money, and having privately sought advice as to what security +could possibly be given by a man in his position, Lydgate had offered +the one good security in his power to the less peremptory creditor, +who was a silversmith and jeweller, and who consented to take on himself +the upholsterer's credit also, accepting interest for a given term. +The security necessary was a bill of sale on the furniture of his house, +which might make a creditor easy for a reasonable time about a debt +amounting to less than four hundred pounds; and the silversmith, +Mr. Dover, was willing to reduce it by taking back a portion +of the plate and any other article which was as good as new. +"Any other article" was a phrase delicately implying jewellery, +and more particularly some purple amethysts costing thirty pounds, +which Lydgate had bought as a bridal present. + +Opinions may be divided as to his wisdom in making this present: +some may think that it was a graceful attention to be expected from +a man like Lydgate, and that the fault of any troublesome consequences +lay in the pinched narrowness of provincial life at that time, +which offered no conveniences for professional people whose fortune +was not proportioned to their tastes; also, in Lydgate's ridiculous +fastidiousness about asking his friends for money. + +However, it had seemed a question of no moment to him on that fine +morning when he went to give a final order for plate: in the +presence of other jewels enormously expensive, and as an addition +to orders of which the amount had not been exactly calculated, +thirty pounds for ornaments so exquisitely suited to Rosamond's +neck and arms could hardly appear excessive when there was no ready +cash for it to exceed. But at this crisis Lydgate's imagination +could not help dwelling on the possibility of letting the amethysts +take their place again among Mr. Dover's stock, though he shrank +from the idea of proposing this to Rosamond. Having been roused to +discern consequences which he had never been in the habit of tracing, +he was preparing to act on this discernment with some of the rigor +(by no means all) that he would have applied in pursuing experiment. +He was nerving himself to this rigor as he rode from Brassing, +and meditated on the representations he must make to Rosamond. + +It was evening when he got home. He was intensely miserable, +this strong man of nine-and-twenty and of many gifts. He was not +saying angrily within himself that he had made a profound mistake; +but the mistake was at work in him like a recognized chronic disease, +mingling its uneasy importunities with every prospect, and enfeebling +every thought. As he went along the passage to the drawing-room, +he heard the piano and singing. Of course, Ladislaw was there. +It was some weeks since Will had parted from Dorothea, yet he was +still at the old post in Middlemarch. Lydgate had no objection +in general to Ladislaw's coming, but just now he was annoyed that he +could not find his hearth free. When he opened the door the two +singers went on towards the key-note, raising their eyes and looking +at him indeed, but not regarding his entrance as an interruption. +To a man galled with his harness as poor Lydgate was, it is not +soothing to see two people warbling at him, as he comes in with the +sense that the painful day has still pains in store. His face, +already paler than usual, took on a scowl as he walked across the room +and flung himself into a chair. + +The singers feeling themselves excused by the fact that they had +only three 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." +She seated 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 before him. + +Will was too quick to need more. "I shall be off," he said, +reaching his hat. + +"Tea is coming," said Rosamond; "pray don't go." + +"Yes, Lydgate is bored," said Will, who had more comprehension +of Lydgate than Rosamond had, and was not offended by his manner, +easily imagining outdoor causes of annoyance. + +"There is the more need for you to stay," said Rosamond, playfully, +and in her lightest accent; "he will not speak to me all the evening." + +"Yes, Rosamond, I shall," said Lydgate, in his strong baritone. +"I have some serious business to speak to you about." + +No introduction of the business could have been less like that +which Lydgate had intended; but her indifferent manner had been +too provoking. + +"There! you see," said Will. "I'm going to the meeting about +the Mechanics' Institute. Good-by;" and he went quickly out of the room. + +Rosamond did not look at her husband, but presently rose and took +her place before the tea-tray. She was thinking that she had never +seen him so disagreeable. Lydgate turned his dark eyes on her +and watched her as she delicately handled the tea-service with her +taper fingers, and looked at the objects immediately before her +with no curve in her face disturbed, and yet with an ineffable +protest in her air against all people with unpleasant manners. +For the moment he lost the sense of his wound in a sudden speculation +about this new form of feminine impassibility revealing itself +in the sylph-like frame which he had once interpreted as the sign +of a ready intelligent sensitiveness. His mind glancing back to Laure +while he looked at Rosamond, he said inwardly, "Would SHE kill me +because I wearied her?" and then, "It is the way with all women." +But this power of generalizing which gives men so much the superiority +in mistake over the dumb animals, was immediately thwarted by Lydgate's +memory of wondering impressions from the behavior of another woman-- +from Dorothea's looks and tones of emotion about her husband +when Lydgate began to attend him--from her passionate cry to be +taught what would best comfort that man for whose sake it seemed +as if she must quell every impulse in her except the yearnings +of faithfulness and compassion. These revived impressions succeeded +each other quickly and dreamily in Lydgate's mind while the tea +was being brewed. He had shut his eyes in the last instant of +reverie while he heard Dorothea saying, "Advise me--think what I +can do--he has been all his life laboring and looking forward. +He minds about nothing else--and I mind about nothing else." + +That voice of deep-souled womanhood had remained within him as the +enkindling conceptions of dead and sceptred genius had remained +within him (is there not a genius for feeling nobly which also +reigns over human spirits and their conclusions?); the tones were +a music from which 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 moved back to her place without looking at him. +Lydgate was too hasty in attributing insensibility to her; after her +own fashion, she was sensitive enough, and took lasting impressions. +Her impression now was one of offence and repulsion. But then, +Rosamond had no scowls and had never raised her voice: she was +quite sure that no one could justly find 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 if he had not already begun it by that abrupt announcement; +indeed some of the angry desire to rouse her into more sensibility +on his account which had prompted him to speak prematurely, +still mingled with his pain in the prospect of her pain. +But he waited till the tray was gone, the candles were lit, +and the evening quiet might be counted on: the interval had left +time for repelled tenderness to return into the old 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 near his own. + +Rosamond obeyed. As she came towards him in her drapery of +transparent faintly tinted muslin, her slim yet round figure never +looked more graceful; as she sat down by him and laid one hand +on the elbow of his chair, at last looking at him and meeting +his eyes, her delicate neck and cheek and purely cut lips never had +more of that untarnished beauty which touches as in spring-time +and infancy and all sweet freshness. It touched Lydgate now, +and mingled the early moments of his love for her with all the +other memories which were stirred in this crisis of deep 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 her husband was still in part the Lydgate whose approval had +stirred delight. She put his hair lightly away from his forehead, +then laid her other hand on his, and was conscious of forgiving him. + +"I am obliged to tell you what will hurt you, Rosy. But there +are things which husband and wife must think of together. I dare +say it has occurred to you already that I am short of money." + +Lydgate paused; but Rosamond turned her neck and looked at a vase +on the mantel-piece. + +"I was not able to pay for all the things we had to get before we +were married, and there have been expenses since which I have +been obliged to meet. The consequence is, there is a large debt +at Brassing--three hundred 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 me the faster because others want the money. +I took pains to keep it from you 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 him again. +That little speech of four words, like so many others in all languages, +is capable by varied vocal inflections of expressing all states of mind +from helpless dimness to exhaustive argumentative perception, from the +completest self-devoting fellowship to the most neutral aloofness. +Rosamond's thin utterance threw into the words "What can--I--do!" +as much neutrality as they could hold. They fell like a mortal chill +on Lydgate's roused tenderness. He did not storm in indignation-- +he felt too sad a sinking of the heart. And when he spoke again +it was more in the tone of a man who forces himself to fulfil a task. + +"It is necessary for you to know, because I have to give security +for a time, and a man must come to make an inventory of the furniture." + +Rosamond colored deeply. "Have you not asked papa for money?" +she said, 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. +The inventory will be begun to-morrow. Remember it is a mere security: +it will make no difference: it is a temporary affair. I insist upon +it that your father shall not know, unless I choose to tell him," +added Lydgate, with a more peremptory emphasis. + +This certainly was unkind, but Rosamond had thrown him back +on evil expectation as to what she would do in the way of quiet +steady disobedience. The unkindness seemed unpardonable to her: +she was not given to weeping and disliked it, but now her chin and +lips began to tremble and the tears welled up. Perhaps it was not +possible for Lydgate, under the double stress of outward material +difficulty and of his own proud resistance to humiliating consequences, +to imagine fully what this sudden trial was to a young creature +who had known nothing but indulgence, and whose dreams had all been +of new indulgence, more exactly to her taste. But he did wish to +spare her as much as he could, and her tears cut him to the heart. +He could not speak again immediately; but Rosamond did not go +on sobbing: she tried to conquer her agitation and wiped away +her tears, continuing to look before her at the mantel-piece. + +"Try not to grieve, darling," said Lydgate, turning his eyes up +towards her. That she had chosen to move away from him in this +moment of her trouble made everything harder to say, but he must +absolutely go on. "We must brace ourselves to do what is necessary. +It is I who have been in fault: I ought to have seen that I +could not afford-to live in this way. But many things have told +against me in my practice, and it really just now has ebbed +to a low point. I may recover it, but in the mean time we must +pull up--we must change our way of living. We shall weather it. +When I have given this security I shall have time to look about me; +and you are so clever that if you turn your mind to managing you +will school me into carefulness. I have been a thoughtless rascal +about squaring prices--but come, dear, sit down and forgive me." + +Lydgate was bowing his neck under the yoke like a creature +who had talons, but who had Reason too, which often reduces us +to meekness. When he had spoken the last words in an imploring tone, +Rosamond returned to the chair by his side. His self-blame gave +her some hope that he would attend to her opinion, and she said-- + +"Why can you not put off having the inventory made? You can send +the men away to-morrow when they come." + +"I shall not send them away," said Lydgate, the peremptoriness +rising again. Was it of any use to explain? + +"If we left Middlemarch? there would of course be a sale, +and that would 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 +not 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 surely +these 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 to take my judgment on questions you don't understand. +I have made necessary arrangements, and they must be carried out. +As to friends, I have no expectations whatever from them, and shall +not ask them for anything." + +Rosamond sat perfectly still. The thought in her mind was that if she +had known how Lydgate would behave, she would never have married him. + +"We have no time to waste now on unnecessary words, dear," +said Lydgate, trying to be gentle again. "There are some details +that I want to consider with you. Dover says he will take a good +deal of the plate back again, 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 a paper from his pocket and opening it; "here is +Dover's account. See, I have marked a number of articles, +which if we returned them would reduce the amount by thirty pounds. +and more. I have not marked any of the jewellery." Lydgate had +really felt this point of the jewellery very bitter to himself; +but he had overcome the feeling by severe argument. He could not +propose to Rosamond that she should return any particular present +of his, but he had told himself that he was bound to put Dover's +offer before her, and her inward prompting might make the affair easy. + +"It is useless for me to look, Tertius," said Rosamond, calmly; +"you will 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 it fall on his knee. Meanwhile Rosamond quietly +went out of the room, leaving Lydgate helpless and wondering. +Was she not coming back? It seemed that she had no more identified +herself with him than if they had been creatures of different species +and opposing interests. He tossed his head and thrust his hands deep +into his pockets with a sort of vengeance. There was still science-- +there were still good objects to work for. He must give a tug still-- +all the stronger because other satisfactions were going. + +But the door opened and Rosamond re-entered. She carried the +leather box containing the amethysts, and a tiny ornamental basket +which contained other boxes, and laying them on the chair where +she had been sitting, she said, with perfect propriety in her air-- + +"This is all the jewellery you ever gave me. You can return what +you like of it, and of the plate also. You will not, of course, +expect me to stay at home to-morrow. I shall go to papa's." + +To many women the look Lydgate cast at her would have been more +terrible than one of anger: it had in it a despairing acceptance +of the distance she was placing between them. + +"And when shall you come back again?" he said, with a bitter edge +on his accent. + +"Oh, in the evening. Of course I shall not mention the subject +to mamma." Rosamond was convinced that no woman could behave +more irreproachably than she was behaving; and she went to sit +down at her work-table. Lydgate sat meditating a minute or two, +and the result was that he said, with some of the old emotion +in his tone-- + +"Now we have been united, Rosy, you should not leave me to myself +in the first trouble that has come." + +"Certainly not," said Rosamond; "I shall do everything it becomes +me to do." + +"It is not right that the thing should be left to servants, or that I +should 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 the humiliation of these money affairs. But, my dear Rosamond, +as a question of pride, which I feel just as much as you can, it is +surely better to manage the thing ourselves, and let the servants +see as little of it as possible; and since you are my wife, there is +no hindering 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 I will write out a list of plate that we may return, and that can +be packed up and sent at once." + +"The servants will know THAT," said Rosamond, with the slightest +touch of sarcasm. + +"Well, we must meet some disagreeables as necessities. Where is +the ink, I wonder?" said Lydgate, rising, and throwing the account +on the larger table where he meant to write. + +Rosamond went to reach the inkstand, and after setting it on the table +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 a time, 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 a part of manliness for a husband to feel keenly the fact +that an inexperienced girl has got into trouble by marrying him. +She received his kiss and returned it faintly, and in this way +an appearance of accord was recovered for the time. But Lydgate +could not help looking forward with dread to the inevitable future +discussions about expenditure and the necessity 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 that +pollen which the bees carry off (having no idea how powdery they are) +when they are buzzing in search of their particular nectar. +This fine comparison has reference to Fred Vincy, who on that evening +at Lowick Parsonage heard a lively discussion among the ladies on +the news which their old servant had got from Tantripp concerning +Mr. Casaubon's strange mention of Mr. Ladislaw in a codicil to his will +made not long before his death. Miss Winifred was astounded to find +that her brother had known the fact before, and observed that Camden +was the most wonderful man for knowing things and not telling them; +whereupon Mary Garth said that the codicil had perhaps got mixed +up with the habits of spiders, which Miss Winifred never would +listen to. Mrs. Farebrother considered that the news had something +to do with their having only once seen Mr. Ladislaw at Lowick, +and Miss Noble made many 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 +on Rosamond at his mother's request to deliver a message as he passed, +he happened to see Ladislaw going away. Fred and Rosamond had little +to say to each other now that marriage had removed her from collision +with the unpleasantness of brothers, and especially now that he had +taken what she held the stupid and even reprehensible step of giving +up the Church to take to such a business as Mr. Garth's. Hence +Fred talked by preference of what he considered indifferent news, +and "a propos of that young Ladislaw" mentioned what he had +heard at Lowick Parsonage. + +Now Lydgate, like Mr. Farebrother, knew a great deal more than +he told, and when he had once been set thinking about the relation +between Will and Dorothea his conjectures had gone beyond the fact. +He imagined that there was a passionate attachment on both sides, +and this struck him as much too serious to gossip about. +He remembered Will's irritability when he had mentioned Mrs. Casaubon, +and was the more circumspect. On the whole his surmises, in addition +to what he knew of the fact, increased his friendliness and tolerance +towards Ladislaw, and made him understand the vacillation which kept +him at Middlemarch after he had said that he should go away. +It was significant of the separateness be tween Lydgate's mind and +Rosamond's that he had no impulse to speak to her on the subject; +indeed, he did not quite trust her reticence towards Will. +And he was right there; though he had no vision of 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 you +don't drop the faintest hint to Ladislaw, Rosy. He is likely to fly +out as if you insulted him. Of course it is a painful affair." + +Rosamond turned her neck and patted her hair, looking the image +of placid 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 +high between her active fingers. "There is a powerful magnet +in this neighborhood." + +"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, +and foreseeing that there was no one else whom Mrs. Casaubon would +so much like to marry, and no one who would so much like to marry +her as a certain gentleman; and then laying a plan to spoil all +by making her forfeit her property if she did marry that gentleman-- +and then--and then--and then--oh, I have no doubt the end will be +thoroughly romantic." + +"Great God! what do you mean?" said Will, flushing over face and ears, +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, and desiring +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 up +from 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 undertone +extremely unlike his usual light voice. "It is a foul insult +to her and to me." Then he sat down absently, looking before him, +but seeing nothing. + +"Now you are angry with ME," said Rosamond. "It is too bad +to bear ME malice. You ought to be obliged to me for telling you." + +"So I am," said Will, abruptly, speaking with that kind of double +soul which belongs to dreamers who answer questions. + +"I expect to hear of the marriage," said Rosamond, play. fully. + +"Never! You will never hear of the marriage!" + +With those words uttered impetuously, Will rose, put out his hand +to Rosamond, still with the air of a somnambulist, and went away. + +When he was gone, Rosamond left her chair and walked to the other end +of the room, leaning when she got there against a chiffonniere, +and looking out of the window wearily. She was oppressed by ennui, +and by that dissatisfaction which in women's minds is continually +turning into a trivial jealousy, referring to no real claims, +springing from no deeper passion than the vague exactingness +of egoism, and yet capable of impelling action as well as speech. +"There really is nothing to care for much," said poor Rosamond inwardly, +thinking of the family at Quallingham, who did not write to her; +and that perhaps Tertius when he came home would tease her +about expenses. She had already secretly disobeyed him by asking +her father to help them, and he had ended decisively 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 was an +occasion which caused some excitement in Middlemarch: the public, if +it chose, was to have the advantage of buying, under the distinguished +auspices of Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, the furniture, books, and pictures +which 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 indicating +the depression of trade; on the contrary, it was due to Mr. Larcher's +great success in the carrying business, which warranted his purchase of a +mansion near Riverston already furnished in high style by an illustrious +Spa physician--furnished indeed with such large framefuls of expensive +flesh-painting in the dining-room, that Mrs. Larcher was nervous until +reassured by finding the subjects to be Scriptural. Hence the fine +opportunity to purchasers which was well pointed out in the handbills +of Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, whose acquaintance with the history of art +enabled 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 +of festival. There was a table spread with the best cold eatables, +as at a superior funeral; and facilities were offered for that +generous-drinking of cheerful glasses which might lead to generous +and cheerful bidding for undesirable articles. Mr. Larcher's sale +was the more attractive in the fine weather because the house stood +just at the end of the town, with a garden and stables attached, +in that pleasant issue from Middlemarch called the London Road, +which was also the road to the New Hospital and 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 at command: +to some, who risked making bids in order simply to raise prices, +it was almost equal to betting at the races. The second day, +when the 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, wishing to buy the carved table, and had rubbed elbows +with Mr. Bambridge and Mr. Horrock. There was a wreath of Middlemarch +ladies accommodated with seats round the large table in the dining-room, +where Mr. Borthrop Trumbull was mounted with desk and hammer; +but the rows chiefly of masculine faces behind were often varied +by incomings and outgoings both from the door and the large bow-window +opening on to the lawn. + +"Everybody" that day did not include Mr. Bulstrode, whose health +could not well endure crowds and draughts. But Mrs. Bulstrode had +particularly wished to have a certain picture--a "Supper at Emmaus," +attributed in the catalogue to Guido; and at the last moment +before the day of the sale Mr. Bulstrode had called at the office +of the "Pioneer," of which he was now one of the proprietors, +to beg of Mr. Ladislaw as a great favor that he would obligingly use +his remarkable knowledge of pictures on behalf of Mrs. Bulstrode, +and judge of the value of this particular painting--"if," added +the scrupulously polite banker, attendance at the sale would not +interfere with the arrangements for your departure, which I know +is imminent." + +This proviso might have sounded rather satirically in Will's ear +if he had been in a mood to care about such satire. It referred +to an understanding entered into many weeks before with the +proprietors of the paper, that he should be at liberty any day +he pleased to hand over the management to the subeditor whom he +had been training; since he wished finally to quit Middlemarch. +But indefinite visions of ambition are weak against the ease of +doing what is habitual or beguilingly agreeable; and we all know +the difficulty of carrying out a resolve when we secretly long +that it may turn out to be unnecessary. In such states of mind +the most incredulous person has a private leaning towards miracle: +impossible to conceive how our wish could be fulfilled, still-- +very wonderful things have happened! Will did not confess this +weakness to himself, but he lingered. What was the use of going +to London at that time of the year? The Rugby men who would remember +him were not there; and so far as political writing was concerned, +he would rather for a few weeks go on with the "Pioneer." At the +present moment, however, when Mr. Bulstrode was speaking to him, +he had both a strengthened resolve to go and an equally strong +resolve not to go till he had once more seen Dorothea. Hence he +replied that he had reasons for deferring his departure a little, +and would be happy to go to the sale. + +Will was in a defiant mood, his consciousness being deeply stung +with the thought that the people who looked at him probably knew +a fact tantamount to an accusation against him as a fellow with low +designs which were to be frustrated by a disposal of property. +Like most people who assert their freedom with regard to conventional +distinction, he was prepared to be sudden and quick at quarrel with any +one who might hint that he had personal reasons for that assertion-- +that there was anything in his blood, his bearing, or his character +to which he gave the mask of an opinion. When he was under an +irritating impression of this kind he would go about for days with a +defiant look, the color changing in his transparent skin as if he were +on the qui vive, watching for something which he had to dart upon. + +This expression was peculiarly noticeable in him at the sale, +and those who had only seen him in his moods of gentle oddity +or of bright enjoyment would have been struck with a contrast. +He was not sorry to have this occasion for appearing in public +before the Middlemarch tribes of Toller, Hackbutt, and the rest, +who looked down on him as an adventurer, and were in a state +of brutal ignorance about Dante--who sneered at his Polish blood, +and were themselves of a breed very much in need of crossing. +He stood in a conspicuous place not far from the auctioneer, +with a fore-finger in each side-pocket and his head thrown backward, +not caring to speak to anybody, though he had been cordially welcomed +as a connoissURE by Mr. Trumbull, who was enjoying the utmost +activity of his great faculties. + +And surely among all men whose vocation requires them to exhibit +their powers of speech, the happiest is a prosperous provincial +auctioneer keenly alive to his own jokes and sensible of his +encyclopedic knowledge. Some saturnine, sour-blooded persons +might object to be constantly insisting on the merits of all +articles from boot-jacks to "Berghems;" but Mr. Borthrop Trumbull +had a kindly liquid in his veins; he was an admirer by nature, +and would have liked to have the universe under his hammer, +feeling that it would go at a higher figure for his recommendation. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Larcher's drawing-room furniture was enough for him. +When Will Ladislaw had come in, a second fender, said to have been +forgotten in its right place, suddenly claimed the auctioneer's +enthusiasm, which he distributed on the equitable principle of praising +those things most which were most in need of praise. The fender +was of polished steel, with much lancet-shaped open-work and a sharp edge + +"Now, ladies," said he, "I shall appeal to you. Here is a fender +which at any other sale would hardly be offered with out reserve, +being, as I may say, for quality of steel and quaintness of design, +a kind of thing"--here Mr. Trumbull dropped his voice and became +slightly nasal, trimming his outlines with his left finger-- +"that might not fall in with ordinary tastes. Allow me to tell +you that by-and-by this style of workmanship will be the only +one in vogue--half-a-crown, you said? thank you--going at +half-a-crown, this characteristic fender; and I have particular +information that the antique style is very much sought after +in high quarters. Three shillings--three-and-sixpence--hold it +well up, Joseph! Look, ladies, at the chastity of the design-- +I have no doubt myself that it was turned out in the last century! +Four shillings, Mr. Mawmsey?--four shillings." + +"It's not a thing I would put in MY drawing-room," +said Mrs. Mawmsey, audibly, for the warning of the rash husband. +"I wonder AT Mrs. Larcher. Every blessed child's head +that fell against it would be cut in two. The edge is like a knife." + +"Quite true," rejoined Mr. Trumbull, quickly, "and most uncommonly +useful to have a fender at hand that will cut, if you have a leather +shoe-tie or a bit of string that wants cutting and no knife at hand: +many a man has been left hanging because there was no knife to cut +him down. Gentlemen, here's a fender that if you had the misfortune +to hang yourselves would cut you down in no time--with astonishing +celerity--four-and-sixpence--five--five-and-sixpence--an appropriate +thing for a spare bedroom where there was a four-poster and a guest +a little out of his mind--six shillings--thank you, Mr. Clintup-- +going at six shillings--going--gone!" The auctioneer's glance, +which had been searching round him with a preternatural susceptibility +to all signs of bidding, here dropped on the paper before him, +and his voice too dropped into a tone of indifferent despatch +as he said, "Mr. Clintup. Be handy, Joseph." + +"It was worth six shillings to have a fender you could always tell +that joke on," said Mr. Clintup, laughing low and apologetically to his +next neighbor. He was a diffident though distinguished nurseryman, +and feared that the audience might regard his bid as a foolish one. + +Meanwhile Joseph had brought a trayful of small articles. +"Now, ladies," said Mr. Trumbull, taking up one of the articles, +"this tray contains a very recherchy lot--a collection of trifles +for the drawing-room table--and trifles make the sum OF +human things--nothing more important than trifles--(yes, Mr. Ladislaw, +yes, by-and-by)--but pass the tray round, Joseph--these bijoux must +be examined, ladies. This I have in my hand is an ingenious contrivance-- +a sort of practical rebus, I may call it: here, you see, it looks like +an elegant heart-shaped box, portable--for the pocket; there, again, +it becomes like a splendid double flower--an ornament for the table; +and now"--Mr. Trumbull allowed the flower to fall alarmingly into +strings of heart-shaped leaves--"a book of riddles! No less than +five hundred printed in a beautiful red. Gentlemen, if I had less +of a conscience, I should not wish you to bid high for this lot-- +I have a longing for it myself. What can promote innocent mirth, +and I may say virtue, more than a good riddle?--it hinders profane +language, and attaches a man to the society of refined females. +This ingenious article itself, without the elegant domino-box, +card-basket, &c., ought alone to give a high price to the lot. +Carried in the pocket it might make an individual welcome in +any society. Four shillings, sir?--four shillings for this remarkable +collection of riddles with the et caeteras. Here is a sample: +`How must you spell honey to make it catch lady-birds? Answer-- +money.' You hear?--lady-birds--honey money. This is an amusement +to sharpen the intellect; it has a sting--it has what we call +satire, and wit without indecency. Four-and-sixpence--five shillings." + +The bidding ran on with warming rivalry. Mr. Bowyer was a bidder, +and this was too exasperating. Bowyer couldn't afford it, +and only wanted to hinder every other man from making a figure. +The current carried even Mr. Horrock with it, but this committal +of himself to an opinion fell from him with so little sacrifice +of his neutral expression, that the bid might not have been detected +as his but for the friendly oaths of Mr. Bambridge, who wanted to know +what Horrock would do with blasted stuff only fit for haberdashers +given over to that state of perdition which the horse-dealer +so cordially recognized in the majority of earthly existences. +The lot was finally knocked down at a guinea to Mr. Spilkins, a young +Slender of the neighborhood, who was reckless with his pocket-money +and felt his want of memory for riddles. + +"Come, Trumbull, this is too bad--you've been putting some old +maid's rubbish into the sale," murmured Mr. Toller, getting close +to the auctioneer. "I want to see how the prints go, and I must +be off soon." + +"IMmediately, Mr. Toller. It was only an act of benevolence +which your noble heart would approve. Joseph! quick with the prints-- +Lot 235. Now, gentlemen, you who are connoissURES, you +are going to have a treat. Here is an engraving of the Duke +of Wellington surrounded by his staff on the Field of Waterloo; +and notwithstanding recent events which have, as it were, +enveloped our great Hero in a cloud, I will be bold to say-- +for a man in my line must not be blown about by political winds-- +that a finer subject--of the modern order, belonging to our own +time and epoch--the understanding of man could hardly conceive: +angels might, perhaps, but not men, sirs, not men." + +"Who painted it?" said Mr. Powderell, much impressed. + +"It is a proof before the letter, Mr. Powderell--the painter is +not known," answered Trumbull, with a certain gaspingness in his +last words, after which he pursed up his lips and stared round him. + +"I'll bid a pound!" said Mr. Powderell, in a tone of resolved emotion, +as of a man ready to put himself in the breach. Whether from awe +or pity, nobody raised the price on him. + +Next came two Dutch prints which Mr. Toller had been eager for, +and after he had secured them he went away. Other prints, and afterwards +some paintings, were sold to leading Middlemarchers who had come +with a special desire for them, and there was a more active movement +of the audience in and out; some, who had bought what they wanted, +going away, others coming in either quite newly or from a temporary +visit to the refreshments which were spread under the marquee on +the lawn. It was this marquee that Mr. Bambridge was bent on buying, +and he appeared to like looking inside it frequently, as a foretaste +of its possession. On the last occasion of his return from it +he was observed to bring with him a new companion, a stranger to +Mr. Trumbull and every one else, whose appearance, however, led to +the supposition that he might be a relative of the horse-dealer's-- +also "given to indulgence." His large whiskers, imposing swagger, +and swing of the leg, made him a striking figure; but his suit +of black, rather shabby at the edges, caused the prejudicial inference +that he was not able to afford himself as much indulgence as he liked. + +"Who is it you've picked up, Bam?" said Mr. Horrock, aside. + +"Ask him yourself," returned Mr. Bambridge. "He said he'd just +turned in from the road." + +Mr. Horrock eyed the stranger, who was leaning back against his +stick with one hand, using his toothpick with the other, and looking +about him with a certain restlessness apparently under the silence +imposed on him by circumstances. + +At length the "Supper at Emmaus" was brought forward, to Wills +immense relief, for he was getting so tired of the proceedings that he +had drawn back a little and leaned his shoulder against the wall +just behind the auctioneer. He now came forward again, and his +eye caught the conspicuous stranger, who, rather to his surprise, +was staring at him markedly. But Will was immediately appealed +to by Mr. Trumbull. + +"Yes, Mr. Ladislaw, yes; this interests you as a connoissURE, +I think. It is some pleasure," the auctioneer went on with a +rising fervor, "to have a picture like this to show to a company +of ladies and gentlemen--a picture worth any sum to an individual +whose means were on a level with his judgment. It is a painting +of the Italian school--by the celebrated Guydo, the greatest +painter in the world, the chief of the Old Masters, as they are called-- +I take it, because they were up to a thing or two beyond most of us-- +in possession of secrets now lost to the bulk of mankind. +Let me tell you, gentlemen, I have seen a great many pictures +by the Old Masters, and they are not all up to this mark--some of +them are darker than you might like and not family subjects. +But here is a Guydo--the frame alone is worth pounds--which any +lady might be proud to hang up--a suitable thing for what we call +a refectory in a charitable institution, if any gentleman of the +Corporation wished to show his munifiCENCE. Turn it a little, +sir? yes. Joseph, turn it a little towards Mr. Ladislaw--Mr. Ladislaw, +having been abroad, understands the merit of these things, +you observe." + +All eyes were for a moment turned towards Will, who said, coolly, +"Five pounds." The auctioneer burst out in deep remonstrance. + +"Ah! Mr. Ladislaw! the frame alone is worth that. Ladies and gentlemen, +for the credit of the town! Suppose it should be discovered +hereafter that a gem of art has been amongst us in this town, +and nobody in Middlemarch awake to it. Five guineas--five seven-six-- +five ten. Still, ladies, still! It is a gem, and `Full many a gem,' +as the poet says, has been allowed to go at a nominal pride because +the public knew no better, because it was offered in circles where +there was--I was going to say a low feeling, but no!--Six pounds-- +six guineas--a Guydo of the first order going at six guineas-- +it is an insult to religion, ladies; it touches us all as Christians, +gentlemen, that a subject like this should go at such a low figure-- +six pounds ten--seven--" + +The bidding was brisk, and Will continued to share in it, +remembering that Mrs. Bulstrode had a strong wish for the picture, +and thinking that he might stretch the price to twelve pounds. +But it was knocked down to him at ten guineas, whereupon he pushed +his way towards the bow-window and went out. He chose to go +under the marquee to get a glass of water, being hot and thirsty: +it was empty of other visitors, and he asked the woman in attendance +to fetch him some fresh water; but before she was well gone he was +annoyed to see entering the florid stranger who had stared at him. +It struck Will at this moment that the man might be one of those political +parasitic insects of the bloated kind who had once or twice claimed +acquaintance with him as having heard him speak on the Reform question, +and who might think of getting a shilling by news. In this light +his person, already rather heating to behold on a summer's day, +appeared the more disagreeable; and Will, half-seated on the elbow +of a garden-chair, turned his eyes carefully away from the comer. +But this signified little to our acquaintance Mr. Raffles, who never +hesitated to thrust himself on unwilling observation, if it suited +his purpose to do so. He moved. a step or two till he was in front +of Will, and said with full-mouthed haste, "Excuse me, Mr. Ladislaw-- +was your mother's name Sarah Dunkirk?" + +Will, starting to his feet, moved backward a step, frowning, and saying +with some fierceness, "Yes, sir, it was. And what is that to you?" + +It was in Will's nature that the first spark it threw out was a +direct answer of the question and a challenge of the consequences. +To have said, "What is that to you?" in the first instance, +would have seemed like shuffling--as if he minded who knew anything +about his origin! + +Raffles on his side had not the same eagerness for a collision +which was implied in Ladislaw's threatening air. The slim young +fellow with his girl's complexion looked like a tiger-cat ready +to spring on him. Under such circumstances Mr. Raffles's pleasure +in annoying his company was kept in abeyance. + +"No offence, my good sir, no offence! I only remember your mother-- +knew her when she was a girl. But it is your father that +you feature, sir. I had the pleasure of seeing your father too. +Parents alive, Mr. Ladislaw?" + +"No!" thundered Will, in the same attitude as before. + +"Should be glad to do you a service, Mr. Ladislaw--by Jove, I should! +Hope to meet again." + +Hereupon Raffles, who had lifted his hat with the last words, +turned himself round with a swing of his leg and walked away. +Will looked after him a moment, and could see that he did not re-enter +the auction-room, but appeared to be walking towards the road. +For an instant he thought that he had been foolish not to let the man +go on talking;--but no! on the whole he preferred doing without +knowledge from that source. + +Later in the evening, however, Raffles overtook him in the street, +and appearing either to have forgotten the roughness of his former +reception or to intend avenging it by a forgiving familiarity, +greeted him jovially and walked by his side, remarking at first +on the pleasantness of the town and neighbor hood. Will suspected +that the man had been drinking and was considering how to shake him +off when Raffles said-- + +"I've been abroad myself, Mr. Ladislaw--I've seen the world-- +used to parley-vous a little. It was at Boulogne I saw your father-- +a most uncommon likeness you are of him, by Jove! mouth--nose--eyes-- +hair turned off your brow just like his--a little in the foreign style. +John Bull doesn't do much of that. But your father was very ill +when I saw him. Lord, lord! hands you might see through. +You were a small youngster then. Did he get well?" + +"No," said Will, curtly. + +"Ah! Well! I've often wondered what became of your mother. +She ran away from her friends when she was a young lass-- +a proud-spirited lass, and pretty, by Jove! I knew the reason why +she ran away," said Raffles, winking slowly as he looked sideways +at Will. + +"You know nothing dishonorable of her, sir," said Will, turning on +him rather savagely. But Mr. Raffles just now was not sensitive +to shades of manner. + +"Not a bit!" said he, tossing his head decisively "She was a little +too honorable to like her friends--that was it!" Here Raffles +again winked slowly. "Lord bless you, I knew all about 'em-- +a little in what you may call the respectable thieving line-- +the high style of receiving-house--none of your holes and corners-- +first-rate. Slap-up shop, high profits and no mistake. But Lord! +Sarah would have known nothing about it--a dashing young lady she was-- +fine boarding-school--fit for a lord's wife--only Archie Duncan +threw it at her out of spite, because she would have nothing +to do with him. And so she ran away from the whole concern. +I travelled for 'em, sir, in a gentlemanly way--at a high salary. +They didn't mind her running away at first--godly folks, sir, +very godly--and she was for the stage. The son was alive then, +and the daughter was at a discount. Hallo! here we are at the +Blue Bull. What do you say, Mr. Ladislaw?--shall we turn in and have +a glass?" + +"No, I must say good evening," said Will, dashing up a passage which +led into Lowick Gate, and almost running to get out of Raffles's reach. + +He walked a long while on the Lowick road away from the town, +glad of the starlit darkness when it came. He felt as if he +had had dirt cast on him amidst shouts of scorn. There was this +to confirm the fellow's statement--that his mother never would +tell him the reason why she had run away from her family. + +Well! what was he, Will Ladislaw, the worse, supposing the truth +about that family to be the ugliest? His mother had braved +hardship in order to separate herself from it. But if Dorothea's +friends had known this story--if the Chettams had known it-- +they would have had a fine color to give their suspicions a welcome +ground for thinking him unfit to come near her. However, let them +suspect what they pleased, they would find themselves in the wrong. +They would find out that the blood in his veins was as free from +the taint of meanness as theirs. + +CHAPTER LXI. + +"Inconsistencies," answered Imlac, "cannot both be right, but imputed +to man they may both be true."--Rasselas. + +The same night, when Mr. Bulstrode returned from a journey to +Brassing on business, his good wife met him in the entrance-hall +and drew him into his private sitting-room. + +"Nicholas," she said, fixing her honest eyes upon him anxiously, +"there has been such a disagreeable man here asking for you--it has +made me quite uncomfortable." + +"What kind of man, my dear," said Mr. Bulstrode, dreadfully certain +of the answer. + +"A red-faced man with large whiskers, and most impudent in his manner. +He declared he was an old friend of yours, and said you would be +sorry not to see him. He wanted to wait for you here, but I told +him he could see you at the Bank to-morrow morning. Most impudent +he was!--stared at me, and said his friend Nick had luck in wives. +I don't believe he would have gone away, if Blucher had not +happened to break his chain and come running round on the gravel-- +for I was in the garden; so I said, `You'd better go away--the dog +is very fierce, and I can't hold him.' Do you really know anything +of such a man?" + +"I believe I know who he is, my dear," said Mr. Bulstrode, +in his usual subdued voice, "an unfortunate dissolute wretch, +whom I helped too much in days gone by. However, I presume you will +not be troubled by him again. He will probably come to the Bank-- +to beg, doubtless." + +No more was said on the subject until the next day, when Mr. Bulstrode +had returned from the town and was dressing for dinner. His wife, +not sure that he was come home, looked into his dressing-room +and saw him with his coat and cravat off, leaning one arm +on a chest of drawers and staring absently at the ground. +He started nervously and looked up as she entered. + +"You look very ill, Nicholas. Is there anything the matter?" + +"I have a good deal of pain in my head," said Mr. Bulstrode, +who was so frequently ailing that his wife was always ready +to believe in this cause of depression. + +"Sit down and let me sponge it with vinegar." + +Physically Mr. Bulstrode did not want the vinegar, but morally +the affectionate attention soothed him. Though always polite, +it was his habit to receive such services with marital coolness, +as his wife's duty. But to-day, while she was bending over him, +he said, "You are very good, Harriet," in a tone which had something +new in it to her ear; she did not know exactly what the novelty was, +but her woman's solicitude shaped itself into a darting thought that he +might be going to have an illness. + +"Has anything worried you?" she said. "Did that man come to you +at the Bank?" + +"Yes; it was as I had supposed. He is a man who at one time might +have done better. But he has sunk into a drunken debauched creature." + +"Is he quite gone away?" said Mrs. Bulstrode, anxiously but for +certain reasons she refrained from adding, "It was very disagreeable +to hear him calling himself a friend of yours." At that moment she +would not have liked to say anything which implied her habitual +consciousness that her husband's earlier connections were not quite +on a level with her own. Not that she knew much about them. +That her husband had at first been employed in a bank, that he +had afterwards entered into what he called city business and gained +a fortune before he was three-and-thirty, that he had married +a widow who was much older than himself--a Dissenter, and in other +ways probably of that disadvantageous quality usually perceptible +in a first wife if inquired into with the dispassionate judgment +of a second--was almost as much as she had cared to learn beyond +the glimpses which Mr. Bulstrode's narrative occasionally gave of +his early bent towards religion, his inclination to be a preacher, +and his association with missionary and philanthropic efforts. +She believed in him as an excellent man whose piety carried +a peculiar eminence in belonging to a layman, whose influence +had turned her own mind toward seriousness, and whose share of +perishable good had been the means of raising her own position. +But she also liked to think that it was well in every sense +for Mr. Bulstrode to have won the hand of Harriet Vincy; +whose family was undeniable in a Middlemarch light--a better light +surely than any thrown in London thoroughfares or dissenting +chapel-yards. The unreformed provincial mind distrusted London; +and while true religion was everywhere saving, honest Mrs. Bulstrode +was convinced that to be saved in the Church was more respectable. +She so much wished to ignore towards others that her husband +had ever been a London Dissenter, that she liked to keep it out +of sight even in talking to him. He was quite aware of this; +indeed in some respects he was rather afraid of this ingenuous wife, +whose imitative piety and native worldliness were equally sincere, +who had nothing to be ashamed of, and whom he had married out of +a thorough inclination still subsisting. But his fears were such +as belong to a man who cares to maintain his recognized supremacy: +the loss of high consideration from his wife, as from every one +else who did not clearly hate him out of enmity to the truth, +would be as the beginning of death to him. When she said-- + +"Is he quite gone away?" + +"Oh, I trust so," he answered, with an effort to throw as much +sober unconcern into his tone as possible! + +But in truth Mr. Bulstrode was very far from a state of quiet trust. +In the interview at the Bank, Raffles had made it evident that his +eagerness to torment was almost as strong in him as any other greed. +He had frankly said that he had turned out of the way to come +to Middlemarch, just to look about him and see whether the neighborhood +would suit him to live in. He had certainly had a few debts to pay +more than he expected, but the two hundred pounds were not gone yet: +a cool five-and-twenty would suffice him to go away with for the present. +What he had wanted chiefly was to see his friend Nick and family, +and know all about the prosperity of a man to whom he was so +much attached. By-and-by he might come back for a longer stay. +This time Raffles declined to be "seen off the premises," as he +expressed it--declined to quit Middlemarch under Bulstrode's eyes. +He meant to go by coach the next day--if he chose. + +Bulstrode felt himself helpless. Neither threats nor coaxing +could avail: he could not count on any persistent fear nor on +any promise. On the contrary, he felt a cold certainty at his +heart that Raffles--unless providence sent death to hinder him-- +would come back to Middlemarch before long. And that certainty +was a terror. + +It was not that he was in danger of legal punishment or of beggary: +he was in danger only of seeing disclosed to the judgment of his +neighbors and the mournful perception of his wife certain facts of his +past life which would render him an object of scorn and an opprobrium +of the religion with which he had diligently associated himself. +The terror of being judged sharpens the memory: it sends an inevitable +glare over that long-unvisited past which has been habitually +recalled only in general phrases. Even without memory, the life +is bound into one by a zone of dependence in growth and decay; +but intense memory forces a man to own his blameworthy past. +With memory set smarting like a reopened wound, a man's past is +not simply a dead history, an outworn preparation of the present: +it is not a repented error shaken loose from the life: it is a still +quivering part of himself, bringing shudders and bitter flavors and +the tinglings of a merited shame. + +Into this second life Bulstrode's past had now risen, only the +pleasures of it seeming to have lost their quality. Night and day, +without interruption save of brief sleep which only wove retrospect +and fear into a fantastic present, he felt the scenes of his earlier +life coming between him and everything else, as obstinately as when we +look through the window from a lighted room, the objects we turn +our backs on are still before us, instead of the grass and the trees +The successive events inward and outward were there in one view: +though each might be dwelt on in turn, the rest still kept their +hold in the consciousness. + +Once more he saw himself the young banker's clerk, with an +agreeable person, as clever in figures as he was fluent in speech +and fond of theological definition: an eminent though young member +of a Calvinistic dissenting church at Highbury, having had striking +experience in conviction of sin and sense of pardon. Again he +heard himself called for as Brother Bulstrode in prayer meetings, +speaking on religious platforms, preaching in private houses. +Again he felt himself thinking of the ministry as possibly his vocation, +and inclined towards missionary labor. That was the happiest time +of his life: that was the spot he would have chosen now to awake +in and find the rest a dream. The people among whom Brother +Bulstrode was distinguished were very few, but they were very near +to him, and stirred his satisfaction the more; his power stretched +through a narrow space, but he felt its effect the more intensely. +He believed without effort in the peculiar work of grace within him, +and in the signs that God intended him for special instrumentality. + +Then came the moment of transition; it was with the sense of promotion +he had when he, an orphan educated at a commercial charity-school, +was invited to a fine villa belonging to Mr. Dunkirk, the richest man +in the congregation. Soon he became an intimate there, honored for +his piety by the wife, marked out for his ability by the husband, +whose wealth was due to a flourishing city and west-end trade. +That was the setting-in of a new current for his ambition, +directing his prospects of "instrumentality" towards the uniting +of distinguished religious gifts with successful business. + +By-and-by came a decided external leading: a confidential subordinate +partner died, and nobody seemed to the principal so well fitted +to fill the severely felt vacancy as his young friend Bulstrode, +if he would become confidential accountant. The offer was accepted. +The business was a pawnbroker's, of the most magnificent sort both +in extent and profits; and on a short acquaintance with it Bulstrode +became aware that one source of magnificent profit was the easy +reception of any goods offered, without strict inquiry as to where +they came from. But there was a branch house at the west end, +and no pettiness or dinginess to give suggestions of shame. + +He remembered his first moments of shrinking. They were private, +and were filled with arguments; some of these taking the form +of prayer. The business was established and had old roots; +is it not one thing to set up a new gin-palace and another to accept +an investment in an old one? The profits made out of lost souls-- +where can the line be drawn at which they begin in human transactions? +Was it not even God's way of saving His chosen? "Thou knowest,"-- +the young Bulstrode had said then, as the older Bulstrode was saying now-- +"Thou knowest how loose my soul sits from these things--how I view +them all as implements for tilling Thy garden rescued here and there +from the wilderness." + +Metaphors and precedents were not wanting; peculiar spiritual +experiences were not wanting which at last made the retention +of his position seem a service demanded of him: the vista of +a fortune had already opened itself, and Bulstrode's shrinking +remained private. Mr. Dunkirk had never expected that there +would be any shrinking at all: he had never conceived that trade +had anything to do with the scheme of salvation. And it was true +that Bulstrode found himself carrying on two distinct lives; +his religious activity could not be incompatible with his business +as soon as he had argued himself into not feeling it incompatible. + +Mentally surrounded with that past again, Bulstrode had the +same pleas--indeed, the years had been perpetually spinning them +into intricate thickness, like masses of spider-web, padding +the moral sensibility; nay, as age made egoism more eager but +less enjoying, his soul had become more saturated with the belief +that he did everything for God's sake, being indifferent to it +for his own. And yet--if he could be back in that far-off spot +with his youthful poverty--why, then he would choose to be a missionary. + +But the train of causes in which he had locked himself went on. +There was trouble in the fine villa at Highbury. Years before, +the only daughter had run away, defied her parents, and gone on the stage; +and now the only boy died, and after a short time Mr. Dunkirk died also. +The wife, a simple pious woman, left with all the wealth in and out +of the magnificent trade, of which she never knew the precise nature, +had come to believe in Bulstrode, and innocently adore him as women +often adore their priest or "man-made" minister. It was natural +that after a time marriage should have been thought of between them. +But Mrs. Dunkirk had qualms and yearnings about her daughter, +who had long been regarded as lost both to God and her parents. +It was known that the daughter had married, but she was utterly +gone out of sight. The mother, having lost her boy, imagined +a grandson, and wished in a double sense to reclaim her daughter. +If she were found, there would be a channel for property-- +perhaps a wide one--in the provision for several grandchildren. +Efforts to find her must be made before Mrs. Dunkirk would marry again. +Bulstrode concurred; but after advertisement as well as other modes +of inquiry had been tried, the mother believed that her daughter +was not to be found, and consented to marry without reservation +of property. + +The daughter had been found; but only one man besides Bulstrode knew it, +and he was paid for keeping silence and carrying himself away. + +That was the bare fact which Bulstrode was now forced to see in +the rigid outline with which acts present themselves onlookers. +But for himself at that distant time, and even now in burning memory, +the fact was broken into little sequences, each justified as it came +by reasonings which seemed to prove it righteous. Bulstrode's course up +to that time had, he thought, been sanctioned by remarkable providences, +appearing to point the way for him to be the agent in making the +best use of a large property and withdrawing it from perversion. +Death and other striking dispositions, such as feminine trustfulness, +had come; and Bulstrode would have adopted Cromwell's words-- +"Do you call these bare events? The Lord pity you!" The events +were comparatively small, but the essential condition was there-- +namely, that they were in favor of his own ends. It was easy +for him to settle what was due from him to others by inquiring +what were God's intentions with regard to himself. Could it be +for God's service that this fortune should in any considerable +proportion go to a young woman and her husband who were given up +to the lightest pursuits, and might scatter it abroad in triviality-- +people who seemed to lie outside the path of remarkable providences? +Bulstrode had never said to himself beforehand, "The daughter +shall not be found"--nevertheless when the moment came he kept +her existence hidden; and when other moments followed, he soothed +the mother with consolation in the probability that the unhappy +young woman might be no more. + +There were hours in which Bulstrode felt that his action +was unrighteous; but how could he go back? He had mental exercises, +called himself nought laid hold on redemption, and went on in his +course of instrumentality. And after five years Death again came +to widen his path, by taking away his wife. He did gradually +withdraw his capital, but he did not make the sacrifices requisite +to put an end to the business, which was carried on for thirteen +years afterwards before it finally collapsed. Meanwhile Nicholas +Bulstrode had used his hundred thousand discreetly, and was +become provincially, solidly important--a banker, a Churchman, +a public benefactor; also a sleeping partner in trading concerns, +in which his ability was directed to economy in the raw material, +as in the case of the dyes which rotted Mr. Vincy's silk. And now, +when this respectability had lasted undisturbed for nearly thirty years-- +when all that preceded it had long lain benumbed in the consciousness-- +that past had risen and immersed his thought as if with the terrible +irruption of a new sense overburthening the feeble being. + +Meanwhile, in his conversation with Raffles, he had learned +something momentous, something which entered actively into +the struggle of his longings and terrors. There, he thought, +lay an opening towards spiritual, perhaps towards material rescue. + +The spiritual kind of rescue was a genuine need with him. There may +be coarse hypocrites, who consciously affect beliefs and emotions +for the sake of gulling the world, but Bulstrode was not one of them. +He was simply a man whose desires had been stronger than his +theoretic beliefs, and who had gradually explained the gratification +of his desires into satisfactory agreement with those beliefs. +If this be hypocrisy, it is a process which shows itself occasionally +in us all, to whatever confession we belong, and whether we +believe in the future perfection of our race or in the nearest +date fixed for the end of the world; whether we regard the earth +as a putrefying nidus for a saved remnant, including ourselves, +or have a passionate belief in the solidarity of mankind. + +The service he could do to the cause of religion had been through +life the ground he alleged to himself for his choice of action: +it had been the motive which he had poured out in his prayers. +Who would use money and position better than he meant to use them? +Who could surpass him in self-abhorrence and exaltation of God's cause? +And to Mr. Bulstrode God's cause was something distinct from his own +rectitude of conduct: it enforced a discrimination of God's enemies, +who were to be used merely as instruments, and whom it would be +as well if possible to keep out of money and consequent influence. +Also, profitable investments in trades where the power of the prince +of this world showed its most active devices, became sanctified by a +right application of the profits in the hands of God's servant. + +This implicit reasoning is essentially no more peculiar to evangelical +belief than the use of wide phrases for narrow motives is peculiar +to Englishmen. There is no general doctrine which is not capable +of eating out our morality if unchecked by the deep-seated habit +of direct fellow-feeling with individual fellow-men. + +But a man who believes in something else than his own greed, +has necessarily a conscience or standard to which he more or less +adapts himself. Bulstrode's standard had been his serviceableness +to God's cause: "I am sinful and nought--a vessel to be consecrated +by use--but use me!"--had been the mould into which he had constrained +his immense need of being something important and predominating. +And now had come a moment in which that mould seemed in danger +of being broken and utterly cast away. + +What if the acts he had reconciled himself to because they made +him a stronger instrument of the divine glory, were to become +the pretext of the scoffer, and a darkening of that glory? +If this were to be the ruling of Providence, he was cast out from +the temple as one who had brought unclean offerings. + +He had long poured out utterances of repentance. But today a +repentance had come which was of a bitterer flavor, and a threatening +Providence urged him to a kind of propitiation which was not simply +a doctrinal transaction. The divine tribunal had changed its +aspect for him; self-prostration was no longer enough, and he must +bring restitution in his hand. It was really before his God that +Bulstrode was about to attempt such restitution as seemed possible: +a great dread had seized his susceptible frame, and the scorching +approach of shame wrought in him a new spiritual need. Night and day, +while the resurgent threatening past was making a conscience within him, +he was thinking by what means he could recover peace and trust-- +by what sacrifice he could stay the rod. His belief in these +moments of dread was, that if he spontaneously did something right, +God would save him from the consequences of wrong-doing. For religion +can only change when the emotions which fill it are changed; and the +religion of personal fear remains nearly at the level of the savage. + +He had seen Raffles actually going away on the Brassing coach, +and this was a temporary relief; it removed the pressure of an +immediate dread, but did not put an end to the spiritual conflict and +the need to win protection. At last he came to a difficult resolve, +and wrote a letter to Will Ladislaw, begging him to be at the +Shrubs that evening for a private interview at nine o'clock. Will +had felt no particular surprise at the request, and connected it +with some new notions about the "Pioneer;" but when he was shown +into Mr. Bulstrode's private room, he was struck with the painfully +worn look on the banker's face, and was going to say, "Are you ill?" +when, checking himself in that abruptness, he only inquired after +Mrs. Bulstrode, and her satisfaction with the picture bought for her. + +"Thank you, she is quite satisfied; she has gone out with her daughters +this evening. I begged you to come, Mr. Ladislaw, because I have +a communication of a very private--indeed, I will say, of a sacredly +confidential nature, which I desire to make to you. Nothing, I dare say, +has been farther from your thoughts than that there had been +important ties in the past which could connect your history with mine." + +Will felt something like an electric shock. He was already in a state +of keen sensitiveness and hardly allayed agitation on the subject +of ties in the past, and his presentiments were not agreeable. +It seemed like the fluctuations of a dream--as if the action begun +by that loud bloated stranger were being carried on by this pale-eyed +sickly looking piece of respectability, whose subdued tone and glib +formality of speech were at this moment almost as repulsive to him +as their remembered contrast. He answered, with a marked change +of color-- + +"No, indeed, nothing." + +"You see before you, Mr. Ladislaw, a man who is deeply stricken. +But for the urgency of conscience and the knowledge that I am +before the bar of One who seeth not as man seeth, I should be under +no compulsion to make the disclosure which has been my object +in asking you to come here to-night. So far as human laws go, +you have no claim on me whatever." + +Will was even more uncomfortable than wondering. Mr. Bulstrode +had paused, leaning his head on his hand, and looking at the floor. +But he now fixed his examining glance on Will and said-- + +"I am told that your mother's name was Sarah Dunkirk, and that she +ran away from her friends to go on the stage. Also, that your +father was at one time much emaciated by illness. May I ask +if you can confirm these statements?" + +"Yes, they are all true," said Will, struck with the order in which +an inquiry had come, that might have been expected to be preliminary +to the banker's previous hints. But Mr. Bulstrode had to-night followed +the order of his emotions; he entertained no doubt that the opportunity +for restitution had come, and he had an overpowering impulse towards +the penitential expression by which he was deprecating chastisement. + +"Do you know any particulars of your mother's family?" he continued. + +"No; she never liked to speak of them. She was a very generous, +honorable woman," said Will, almost angrily. + +"I do not wish to allege anything against her. Did she never mention +her mother to you at all?" + +"I have heard her say that she thought her mother did not know the +reason of her running away. She said `poor mother' in a pitying tone." + +"That mother became my wife," said Bulstrode, and then paused a +moment before he added, "you have a claim on me, Mr. Ladislaw: as I +said before, not a legal claim, but one which my conscience recognizes. +I was enriched by that marriage--a result which would probably +not have taken place--certainly not to the same extent--if your +grandmother could have discovered her daughter. That daughter, +I gather, is no longer living!" + +"No," said Will, feeling suspicion and repugnance rising so strongly +within him, that without quite knowing what he did, he took his hat +from the floor and stood up. The impulse within him was to reject +the disclosed connection. + +"Pray be seated, Mr. Ladislaw," said Bulstrode, anxiously. +"Doubtless you are startled by the suddenness of this discovery. +But I entreat your patience with one who is already bowed down +by inward trial." + +Will reseated himself, feeling some pity which was half contempt +for this voluntary self-abasement of an elderly man. + +"It is my wish, Mr. Ladislaw, to make amends for the deprivation +which befell your mother. I know that you are without fortune, +and I wish to supply you adequately from a store which would have +probably already been yours had your grandmother been certain +of your mother's existence and been able to find her." + +Mr. Bulstrode paused. He felt that he was performing a striking piece +of scrupulosity in the judgment of his auditor, and a penitential +act in the eyes of God. He had no clew to the state of Will +Ladislaw's mind, smarting as it was from the clear hints of Raffles, +and with its natural quickness in construction stimulated by the +expectation of discoveries which he would have been glad to conjure +back into darkness. Will made no answer for several moments, +till Mr. Bulstrode, who at the end of his speech had cast his +eyes on the floor, now raised them with an examining glance, +which Will met fully, saying-- + +"I suppose you did know of my mother's existence, and knew where she +might have been found." + +Bulstrode shrank--there was a visible quivering in his face and hands. +He was totally unprepared to have his advances met in this way, +or to find himself urged into more revelation than he had beforehand +set down as needful. But at that moment he dared not tell a lie, +and he felt suddenly uncertain of his ground which he had trodden +with some confidence before. + +"I will not deny that you conjecture rightly," he answered, +with a faltering in his tone. "And I wish to make atonement to you +as the one still remaining who has suffered a loss through me. +You enter, I trust, into my purpose, Mr. Ladislaw, which has a reference +to higher than merely human claims, and as I have already said, +is entirely independent of any legal compulsion. I am ready to +narrow my own resources and the prospects of my family by binding +myself to allow you five hundred pounds yearly during my life, +and to leave you a proportional capital at my death--nay, to do +still more, if more should be definitely necessary to any laudable +project on your part." Mr. Bulstrode had gone on to particulars +in the expectation that these would work strongly on Ladislaw, +and merge other feelings in grateful acceptance. + +But Will was looking as stubborn as possible, with his lip pouting +and his fingers in his side-pockets. He was not in the least touched, +and said firmly,-- + +"Before I make any reply to your proposition, Mr. Bulstrode, I must +beg you to answer a question or two. Were you connected with the +business by which that fortune you speak of was originally made?" + +Mr. Bulstrode's thought was, "Raffles has told him." How could he +refuse to answer when he had volunteered what drew forth the question? +He answered, "Yes." + +"And was that business--or was it not--a thoroughly dishonorable one-- +nay, one that, if its nature had been made public, might have +ranked those concerned in it with thieves and convicts?" + +Will's tone had a cutting bitterness: he was moved to put his +question as nakedly as he could. + +Bulstrode reddened with irrepressible anger. He had been prepared +for a scene of self-abasement, but his intense pride and his habit +of supremacy overpowered penitence, and even dread, when this young man, +whom he had meant to benefit, turned on him with the air of a judge. + +"The business was established before I became connected with it, +sir; nor is it for you to institute an inquiry of that kind," +he answered, not raising his voice, but speaking with quick defiantness. + +"Yes, it is," said Will, starting up again with his hat in his hand. +"It is eminently mine to ask such questions, when I have to decide +whether I will have transactions with you and accept your money. +My unblemished honor is important to me. It is important to me +to have no stain on my birth and connections. And now I find there +is a stain which I can't help. My mother felt it, and tried +to keep as clear of it as she could, and so will I. You shall keep +your ill-gotten money. If I had any fortune of my own, I would +willingly pay it to any one who could disprove what you have told me. +What I have to thank you for is that you kept the money till now, +when I can refuse it. It ought to lie with a man's self that he is +a gentleman. Good-night, sir." + +Bulstrode was going to speak, but Will, with determined quickness, +was out of the room in an instant, and in another the hall-door had +closed behind him. He was too strongly possessed with passionate +rebellion against this inherited blot which had been thrust on his +knowledge to reflect at present whether he had not been too hard +on Bulstrode--too arrogantly merciless towards a man of sixty, +who was making efforts at retrieval when time had rendered them vain. + +No third person listening could have thoroughly understood the +impetuosity of Will's repulse or the bitterness of his words. +No one but himself then knew how everything connected with the +sentiment of his own dignity had an immediate bearing for him on +his relation to Dorothea and to Mr. Casaubon's treatment of him. +And in the rush of impulses by which he flung back that offer +of Bulstrode's there was mingled the sense that it would have been +impossible for him ever to tell Dorothea that he had accepted it. + +As for Bulstrode--when Will was gone he suffered a violent reaction, +and wept like a woman. It was the first time he had encountered +an open expression of scorn from any man higher than Raffles; +and with that scorn hurrying like venom through his system, +there was no sensibility left to consolations. Rut the relief +of weeping had to be checked. His wife and daughters soon came +home from hearing the address of an Oriental missionary, and were +full of regret that papa had not heard, in the first instance, +the interesting things which they tried to repeat to him. + +Perhaps, through all other hidden thoughts, the one that breathed +most comfort was, that Will Ladislaw at least was not likely +to publish what had taken place that evening. + +CHAPTER LXII. + + "He was a squyer of lowe degre, + That loved the king's daughter of Hungrie. + --Old Romance. + +Will Ladislaw's mind was now wholly bent on seeing Dorothea again, +and forthwith quitting Middlemarch. The morning after his agitating +scene with Bulstrode he wrote a brief letter to her, saying that +various causes had detained him in the neighborhood longer than he +had expected, and asking her permission to call again at Lowick +at some hour which she would mention on the earliest possible day, +he being anxious to depart, but unwilling to do so until she +had granted him an interview. He left the letter at the office, +ordering the messenger to carry it to Lowick Manor, and wait for +an answer. + +Ladislaw felt the awkwardness of asking for more last words. +His former farewell had been made in the hearing of Sir James Chettam, +and had been announced as final even to the butler. It is certainly +trying to a man's dignity to reappear when he is not expected to do so: +a first farewell has pathos in it, but to come back for a second +lends an opening to comedy, and it was possible even that there +might be bitter sneers afloat about Will's motives for lingering. +Still it was on the whole more satisfactory to his feeling to take +the directest means of seeing Dorothea, than to use any device +which might give an air of chance to a meeting of which he +wished her to understand that it was what he earnestly sought. +When he had parted from her before, he had been in ignorance +of facts which gave a new aspect to the relation between them, +and made a more absolute severance than he had then believed in. +He knew nothing of Dorothea's private fortune, and being +little used to reflect on such matters, took it for granted +that according to Mr. Casaubon's arrangement marriage to him, +Will Ladislaw, would mean that she consented to be penniless. +That was not what he could wish for even in his secret heart, +or even if she had been ready to meet such hard contrast for his sake. +And then, too, there was the fresh smart of that disclosure about +his mother's family, which if known would be an added reason why +Dorothea's friends should look down upon him as utterly below her. +The secret hope that after some years he might come back with the +sense that he had at least a personal value equal to her wealth, +seemed now the dreamy continuation of a dream. This change would surely +justify him in asking Dorothea to receive him once more. + +But Dorothea on that morning was not at home to receive Will's note. +In consequence of a letter from her uncle announcing his intention +to be at home in a week, she had driven first to Freshitt to carry +the news, meaning to go on to the Grange to deliver some orders +with which her uncle had intrusted her--thinking, as he said, +"a little mental occupation of this sort good for a widow." + +If Will Ladislaw could have overheard some of the talk at Freshitt +that morning, he would have felt all his suppositions confirmed +as to the readiness of certain people to sneer at his lingering +in the neighborhood. Sir James, indeed, though much relieved +concerning Dorothea, had been on the watch to learn Ladislaw's movements, +and had an instructed informant in Mr. Standish, who was necessarily +in his confidence on this matter. That Ladislaw had stayed in +Middlemarch nearly two months after he had declared that he was +going immediately, was a fact to embitter Sir James's suspicions, +or at least to justify his aversion to a "young fellow" whom he +represented to himself as slight, volatile, and likely enough to show +such recklessness as naturally went along with a position unriveted +by family ties or a strict profession. But he had just heard something +from Standish which, while it justified these surmises about Will, +offered a means of nullifying all danger with regard to Dorothea. + +Unwonted circumstances may make us all rather unlike ourselves: +there are conditions under which the most majestic person is obliged +to sneeze, and our emotions are liable to be acted on in the same +incongruous manner. Good Sir James was this morning so far unlike +himself that he was irritably anxious to say something to Dorothea +on a subject which he usually avoided as if it had been a matter +of shame to them both. He could not use Celia as a medium, +because he did not choose that she should know the kind of gossip +he had in his mind; and before Dorothea happened to arrive he had +been trying to imagine how, with his shyness and unready tongue, +he could ever manage to introduce his communication. Her unexpected +presence brought him to utter hopelessness in his own power of +saying anything unpleasant; but desperation suggested a resource; +he sent the groom on an unsaddled horse across the park with a +pencilled note to Mrs. Cadwallader, who already knew the gossip, +and would think it no compromise of herself to repeat it as often +as required. + +Dorothea was detained on the good pretext that Mr. Garth, +whom she wanted to see, was expected at the hall within the hour, +and she was still talking to Caleb on the gravel when Sir James, +on the watch for the rector's wife, saw her coming and met her +with the needful hints. + +"Enough! I understand,"--said Mrs. Cadwallader. "You shall +be innocent. I am such a blackamoor that I cannot smirch myself." + +"I don't mean that it's of any consequence," said Sir James, +disliking that Mrs. Cadwallader should understand too much. +"Only it is desirable that Dorothea should know there are reasons why +she should not receive him again; and I really can't say so to her. +It will come lightly from you." + +It came very lightly indeed. When Dorothea quitted Caleb and +turned to meet them, it appeared that Mrs. Cadwallader had stepped +across the park by the merest chance in the world, just to chat +with Celia in a matronly way about the baby. And so Mr. Brooke +was coming back? Delightful!--coming back, it was to be hoped, +quite cured of Parliamentary fever and pioneering. Apropos +of the "Pioneer"--somebody had prophesied that it would soon +be like a dying dolphin, and turn all colors for want of knowing +how to help itself, because Mr. Brooke's protege, the brilliant +young Ladislaw, was gone or going. Had Sir James heard that? + +The three were walking along the gravel slowly, and Sir James, +turning aside to whip a shrub, said he had heard something of that sort. + +"All false!" said Mrs. Cadwallader. "He is not gone, or going, +apparently; the `Pioneer' keeps its color, and Mr. Orlando Ladislaw +is making a sad dark-blue scandal by warbling continually with your +Mr. Lydgate's wife, who they tell me is as pretty as pretty can be. +It seems nobody ever goes into the house without finding this +young gentleman lying on the rug or warbling at the piano. +But the people in manufacturing towns are always disreputable." + +"You began by saying that one report was false, Mrs. Cadwallader, +and I believe this is false too," said Dorothea, with indignant energy; +"at least, I feel sure it is a misrepresentation. I will not hear +any evil spoken of Mr. Ladislaw; he has already suffered too +much injustice." + +Dorothea when thoroughly moved cared little what any one thought +of her feelings; and even if she had been able to reflect, she would +have held it petty to keep silence at injurious words about Will +from fear of being herself misunderstood. Her face was flushed +and her lip trembled. + +Sir James, glancing at her, repented of his stratagem; +but Mrs. Cadwallader, equal to all occasions, spread the palms +of her hands outward and said--"Heaven grant it, my dear!--I mean +that all bad tales about anybody may be false. But it is a pity that +young Lydgate should have married one of these Middlemarch girls. +Considering he's a son of somebody, he might have got a woman +with good blood in her veins, and not too young, who would have put +up with his profession. There's Clara Harfager, for instance, +whose friends don't know what to do with her; and she has a portion. +Then we might have had her among us. However!--it's no use +being wise for other people. Where is Celia? Pray let us go in." + +"I am going on immediately to Tipton," said Dorothea, rather haughtily. +"Good-by." + +Sir James could say nothing as he accompanied her to the carriage. +He was altogether discontented with the result of a contrivance +which had cost him some secret humiliation beforehand. + +Dorothea drove along between the berried hedgerows and the shorn +corn-fields, not seeing or hearing anything around. The tears +came and rolled down her cheeks, but she did not know it. +The world, it seemed, was turning ugly and hateful, and there was +no place for her trustfulness. "It is not true--it is not true!" +was the voice within her that she listened to; but all the while +a remembrance to which there had always clung a vague uneasiness +would thrust itself on her attention--the remembrance of that day +when she had found Will Ladislaw with Mrs. Lydgate, and had heard +his voice accompanied by the piano. + +"He said he would never do anything that I disapproved--I wish I +could have told him that I disapproved of that," said poor Dorothea, +inwardly, feeling a strange alternation between anger with Will +and the passionate defence of him. "They all try to blacken him +before me; but I will care for no pain, if he is not to blame. +I always believed he was good."--These were her last thoughts +before she felt that the carriage was passing under the archway +of the lodge-gate at the Grange, when she hurriedly pressed +her handkerchief to her face and began to think of her errands. +The coachman begged leave to take out the horses for half an hour +as there was something wrong with a shoe; and Dorothea, having the +sense that she was going to rest, took off her gloves and bonnet, +while she was leaning against a statue in the entrance-hall, +and talking to the housekeeper. At last she said-- + +"I must stay here a little, Mrs. Kell. I will go into the library +and write you some memoranda from my uncle's letter, if you will +open the shutters for me." + +"The shutters are open, madam," said Mrs. Kell, following Dorothea, +who had walked along as she spoke. "Mr. Ladislaw is there, +looking for something." + +(Will had come to fetch a portfolio of his own sketches which he +had missed in the act of packing his movables, and did not choose +to leave behind.) + +Dorothea's heart seemed to turn over as if it had had a blow, +but she was not perceptibly checked: in truth, the sense that Will +was there was for the moment all-satisfying to her, like the sight +of something precious that one has lost. When she reached the door +she said to Mrs. Kell-- + +"Go in first, and tell him that I am here." + +Will had found his portfolio, and had laid it on the table at the +far end of the room, to turn over the sketches and please himself +by looking at the memorable piece of art which had a relation +to nature too mysterious for Dorothea. He was smiling at it still, +and shaking the sketches into order with the thought that he might +find a letter from her awaiting him at Middlemarch, when Mrs. Kell +close to his elbow said-- + +"Mrs. Casaubon is coming in, sir." + +Will turned round quickly, and the next moment Dorothea was entering. +As Mrs. Kell closed the door behind her they met: each was looking +at the other, and consciousness was overflowed by something that +suppressed utterance. It was not confusion that kept them silent, +for they both felt that parting was near, and there is no shamefacedness +in a sad parting. + +She moved automatically towards her uncle's chair against the +writing-table, and Will, after drawing it out a little for her, +went a few paces off and stood opposite to her. + +"Pray sit down," said Dorothea, crossing her hands on her lap; +"I am very glad you were here." Will thought that her face looked +just as it did when she first shook hands with him in Rome; +for her widow's cap, fixed in her bonnet, had gone off with it, +and he could see that she had lately been shedding tears. But the +mixture of anger in her agitation had vanished at the sight of him; +she had been used, when they were face to face, always to feel +confidence and the happy freedom which comes with mutual understanding, +and how could other people's words hinder that effect on a sudden? +Let the music which can take possession of our frame and fill the air +with joy for us, sound once more--what does it signify that we heard it +found fault with in its absence? + +"I have sent a letter to Lowick Manor to-day, asking leave to +see you," said Will, seating himself opposite to her. "I am going +away immediately, and I could not go without speaking to you again." + +"I thought we had parted when you came to Lowick many weeks ago-- +you thought you were going then," said Dorothea, her voice trembling +a little. + +"Yes; but I was in ignorance then of things which I know now-- +things which have altered my feelings about the future. When I +saw you before, I was dreaming that I might come back some day. +I don't think I ever shall--now." Will paused here. + +"You wished me to know the reasons?" said Dorothea, timidly. + +"Yes," said Will, impetuously, shaking his head backward, and looking +away from her with irritation in his face. "Of course I must wish it. +I have been grossly insulted in your eyes and in the eyes of others. +There has been a mean implication against my character. I wish you +to know that under no circumstances would I have lowered myself by-- +under no circumstances would I have given men the chance of saying +that I sought money under the pretext of seeking--something else. +There was no need of other safeguard against me--the safeguard of wealth +was enough." + +Will rose from his chair with the last word and went--he hardly +knew where; but it was to the projecting window nearest him, +which had been open as now about the same season a year ago, when he +and Dorothea had stood within it and talked together. Her whole heart +was going out at this moment in sympathy with Will's indignation: +she only wanted to convince him that she had never done him injustice, +and he seemed to have turned away from her as if she too had been +part of the unfriendly world. + +"It would be very unkind of you to suppose that I ever attributed +any meanness to you," she began. Then in her ardent way, +wanting to plead with him, she moved from her chair and went +in front of him to her old place in the window, saying, "Do you +suppose that I ever disbelieved in you?" + +When Will saw her there, he gave a start and moved backward out +of the window, without meeting her glance. Dorothea was hurt +by this movement following up the previous anger of his tone. +She was ready to say that it was as hard on her as on him, +and that she was helpless; but those strange particulars of their +relation which neither of them could explicitly mention kept +her always in dread of saying too much. At this moment she had +no belief that Will would in any case have wanted to marry her, +and she feared using words which might imply such a belief. +She only said earnestly, recurring to his last word-- + +"I am sure no safeguard was ever needed against you." + +Will did not answer. In the stormy fluctuation of his feelings these +words of hers seemed to him cruelly neutral, and he looked pale and +miserable after his angry outburst. He went to the table and fastened +up his portfolio, while Dorothea looked at him from the distance. +They were wasting these last moments together in wretched silence. +What could he say, since what had got obstinately uppermost in his +mind was the passionate love for her which he forbade himself +to utter? What could she say, since she might offer him no help-- +since she was forced to keep the money that ought to have been his?-- +since to-day he seemed not to respond as he used to do to her thorough +trust and liking? + +But Will at last turned away from his portfolio and approached +the window again. + +"I must go," he said, with that peculiar look of the eyes which +sometimes accompanies bitter feeling, as if they had been tired +and burned with gazing too close at a light. + +"What shall you do in life?" said Dorothea, timidly. "Have your +intentions remained just the same as when we said good-by before?" + +"Yes," said Will, in a tone that seemed to waive the subject +as uninteresting. "I shall work away at the first thing that offers. +I suppose one gets a habit of doing without happiness or hope." + +"Oh, what sad words!" said Dorothea, with a dangerous tendency to sob. +Then trying to smile, she added, "We used to agree that we were +alike in speaking too strongly." + +"I have not spoken too strongly now," said Will, leaning back against +the angle of the wall. "There are certain things which a man can +only go through once in his life; and he must know some time or other +that the best is over with him. This experience has happened to me +while I am very young--that is all. What I care more for than I +can ever care for anything else is absolutely forbidden to me-- +I don't mean merely by being out of my reach, but forbidden me, +even if it were within my reach, by my own pride and honor-- +by everything I respect myself for. Of course I shall go on living +as a man might do who had seen heaven in a trance." + +Will paused, imagining that it would be impossible for Dorothea +to misunderstand this; indeed he felt that he was contradicting +himself and offending against his self-approval in speaking +to her so plainly; but still--it could not be fairly called +wooing a woman to tell her that he would never woo her. +It must be admitted to be a ghostly kind of wooing. + +But Dorothea's mind was rapidly going over the past with quite another +vision than his. The thought that she herself might be what Will +most cared for did throb through her an instant, but then came doubt: +the memory of the little they had lived through together turned pale +and shrank before the memory which suggested how much fuller might +have been the intercourse between Will and some one else with whom +he had had constant companionship. Everything he had said might +refer to that other relation, and whatever had passed between him +and herself was thoroughly explained by what she had always regarded +as their simple friendship and the cruel obstruction thrust upon it +by her husband's injurious act. Dorothea stood silent, with her +eyes cast down dreamily, while images crowded upon her which left +the sickening certainty that Will was referring to Mrs. Lydgate. +But why sickening? He wanted her to know that here too his conduct +should be above suspicion. + +Will was not surprised at her silence. His mind also was tumultuously +busy while he watched her, and he was feeling rather wildly that something +must happen to hinder their parting--some miracle, clearly nothing +in their own deliberate speech. Yet, after all, had she any love +for him?--he could not pretend to himself that he would rather believe +her to be without that pain. He could not deny that a secret longing +for the assurance that she loved him was at the root of all his words. + +Neither of them knew how long they stood in that way. Dorothea was +raising her eyes, and was about to speak, when the door opened +and her footman came to say-- + +"The horses are ready, madam, whenever you like to start." + +"Presently," said Dorothea. Then turning to Will, she said, +"I have some memoranda to write for the housekeeper." + +"I must go," said Will, when the door had closed again--advancing +towards her. "The day after to-morrow I shall leave Middlemarch." + +"You have acted in every way rightly," said Dorothea, in a low tone, +feeling a pressure at her heart which made it difficult to speak. + +She put out her hand, and Will took it for an instant with. +out speaking, for her words had seemed to him cruelly cold and +unlike herself. Their eyes met, but there was discontent in his, +and in hers there was only sadness. He turned away and took his +portfolio under his arm. + +"I have never done you injustice. Please remember me," said Dorothea, +repressing a rising sob. + +"Why should you say that?" said Will, with irritation. "As if I +were not in danger of forgetting everything else." + +He had really a movement of anger against her at that moment, and it +impelled him to go away without pause. It was all one flash to Dorothea-- +his last words--his distant bow to her as he reached the door-- +the sense that he was no longer there. She sank into the chair, +and for a few moments sat like a statue, while images and emotions +were hurrying upon her. Joy came first, in spite of the threatening +train behind it--joy in the impression that it was really herself +whom Will loved and was renouncing, that there was really no other +love less permissible, more blameworthy, which honor was hurrying +him away from. They were parted all the same, but--Dorothea drew +a deep breath and felt her strength return--she could think of +him unrestrainedly. At that moment the parting was easy to bear: +the first sense of loving and being loved excluded sorrow. It was as +if some hard icy pressure had melted, and her consciousness had room +to expand: her past was come back to her with larger interpretation. +The joy was not the less--perhaps it was the more complete just then-- +because of the irrevocable parting; for there was no reproach, +no contemptuous wonder to imagine in any eye or from any lips. +He had acted so as to defy reproach, and make wonder respectful. + +Any one watching her might have seen that there was a fortifying +thought within her. Just as when inventive power is working +with glad ease some small claim on the attention is fully met +as if it were only a cranny opened to the sunlight, it was easy +now for Dorothea to write her memoranda. She spoke her last words +to the housekeeper in cheerful tones, and when she seated herself +in the carriage her eyes were bright and her cheeks blooming +under the dismal bonnet. She threw back the heavy "weepers," +and looked before her, wondering which road Will had taken. +It was in her nature to be proud that he was blameless, and through +all her feelings there ran this vein--"I was right to defend him." + +The coachman was used to drive his grays at a good pane, Mr. Casaubon +being unenjoying and impatient in everything away from his desk, +and wanting to get to the end of all journeys; and Dorothea +was now bowled along quickly. Driving was pleasant, for rain +in the night had laid the dust, and the blue sky looked far off, +away from the region of the great clouds that sailed in masses. +The earth looked like a happy place under the vast heavens, +and Dorothea was wishing that she might overtake Will and see him +once more. + +After a turn of the road, there he was with the portfolio under his arm; +but the next moment she was passing him while he raised his hat, +and she felt a pang at being seated there in a sort of exaltation, +leaving him behind. She could not look back at him. It was +as if a crowd of indifferent objects had thrust them asunder, +and forced them along different paths, taking them farther and +farther away from each other, and making it useless to look back. +She could no more make any sign that would seem to say, "Need we part?" +than she could stop the carriage to wait for him. Nay, what a world +of reasons crowded upon her against any movement of her thought +towards a future that might reverse the decision of this day! + +"I only wish I had known before--I wish he knew--then we could be +quite happy in thinking of each other, though we are forever parted. +And if I could but have given him the money, and made things easier +for him!"--were the longings that came back the most persistently. +And yet, so heavily did the world weigh on her in spite of her +independent energy, that with this idea of Will as in need of such help +and at a disadvantage with the world, there came always the vision +of that unfittingness of any closer relation between them which lay +in the opinion of every one connected with her. She felt to the full +all the imperativeness of the motives which urged Will's conduct. +How could he dream of her defying the barrier that her husband had +placed between them?--how could she ever say to herself that she +would defy it? + +Will's certainty as the carriage grew smaller in the distance, +had much more bitterness in it. Very slight matters were enough +to gall him in his sensitive mood, and the sight of Dorothea +driving past him while he felt himself plodding along as a poor +devil seeking a position in a world which in his present temper +offered him little that he coveted, made his conduct seem a mere +matter of necessity, and took away the sustainment of resolve. +After all, he had no assurance that she loved him: could any man +pretend that he was simply glad in such a case to have the suffering +all on his own side? + +That evening Will spent with the Lydgates; the next evening he +was gone. + +BOOK VII. + +TWO TEMPTATIONS. + +CHAPTER LXIII. + +These little things are great to little man.--GOLDSMITH. + +"Have you seen much of your scientific phoenix, Lydgate, lately?" +said Mr. Toller at one of his Christmas dinner-parties, speaking +to Mr. Farebrother on his right hand. + +"Not much, I am sorry to say," answered the Vicar, accustomed to parry +Mr. Toller's banter about his belief in the new medical light. +"I am out of the way and he is too busy." + +"Is he? I am glad to hear it," said Dr. Minchin, with mingled +suavity and surprise. + +"He gives a great deal of time to the New Hospital," said Mr. Farebrother, +who had his reasons for continuing the subject: "I hear of that from +my neighbor, Mrs. Casaubon, who goes there often. She says Lydgate +is indefatigable, and is making a fine thing of Bulstrode's institution. +He is preparing a new ward in case of the cholera coming to us." + +"And preparing theories of treatment to try on the patients, +I suppose," said Mr. Toller. + +"Come, Toller, be candid," said Mr. Farebrother. "You are too clever +not to see the good of a bold fresh mind in medicine, as well as in +everything else; and as to cholera, I fancy, none of you are very +sure what you ought to do. If a man goes a little too far along +a new road, it is usually himself that he harms more than any one else." + +"I am sure you and Wrench ought to be obliged to him," said Dr. Minchin, +looking towards Toller, "for he has sent you the cream of Peacock's patients." + +"Lydgate has been living at a great rate for a young beginner," +said Mr. Harry Toller, the brewer. "I suppose his relations in the +North back him up." + +"I hope so," said Mr. Chichely, "else he ought not to have married +that nice girl we were all so fond of. Hang it, one has a grudge +against a man who carries off the prettiest girl in the town." + +"Ay, by God! and the best too," said Mr. Standish. + +"My friend Vincy didn't half like the marriage, I know that," +said Mr. Chichely. "HE wouldn't do much. How the relations +on the other side may have come down I can't say." There was an +emphatic kind of reticence in Mr. Chichely's manner of speaking. + +"Oh, I shouldn't think Lydgate ever looked to practice for a living," +said Mr. Toller, with a slight touch of sarcasm, and there the subject +was dropped. + +This was not the first time that Mr. Farebrother had heard hints of +Lydgate's expenses being obviously too great to be met by his practice, +but he thought it not unlikely that there were resources or expectations +which excused the large outlay at the time of Lydgate's marriage, +and which might hinder any bad consequences from the disappointment +in his practice. One evening, when he took the pains to go +to Middlemarch on purpose to have a chat with Lydgate as of old, +he noticed in him an air of excited effort quite unlike his usual easy +way of keeping silence or breaking it with abrupt energy whenever +he had anything to say. Lydgate talked persistently when they were +in his work-room, putting arguments for and against the probability +of certain biological views; but he had none of those definite +things to say or to show which give the waymarks of a patient +uninterrupted pursuit, such as he used himself to insist on, +saying that "there must be a systole and diastole in all inquiry," +and that "a man's mind must be continually expanding and shrinking +between the whole human horizon and the horizon of an object-glass." +That evening he seemed to be talking widely for the sake of resisting +any personal bearing; and before long they went into the drawing room, +where Lydgate, having asked Rosamond to give them music, sank back +in his chair in silence, but with a strange light in his eyes. +"He may have been taking an opiate," was a thought that crossed +Mr. Farebrother's mind--"tic-douloureux perhaps--or medical worries." + +It did not occur to him that Lydgate's marriage was not delightful: +he believed, as the rest did, that Rosamond was an amiable, +docile creature, though he had always thought her rather uninteresting-- +a little too much the pattern-card of the finishing-school; +and his mother could not forgive Rosamond because she never seemed +to see that Henrietta Noble was in the room. "However, Lydgate +fell in love with her," said the Vicar to himself, "and she must +be to his taste." + +Mr. Farebrother was aware that Lydgate was a proud man, but having +very little corresponding fibre in himself, and perhaps too little care +about personal dignity, except the dignity of not being mean or foolish, +he could hardly allow enough for the way in which Lydgate shrank, +as from a burn, from the utterance of any word about his private affairs. +And soon after that conversation at Mr. Toller's, the Vicar +learned something which made him watch the more eagerly for an +opportunity of indirectly letting Lydgate know that if he wanted +to open himself about any difficulty there was a friendly ear ready. + +The opportunity came at Mr. Vincy's, where, on New Year's Day, +there was a party, to which Mr. Farebrother was irresistibly invited, +on the plea that he must not forsake his old friends on the first +new year of his being a greater man, and Rector as well as Vicar. +And this party was thoroughly friendly: all the ladies of the +Farebrother family were present; the Vincy children all dined +at the table, and Fred had persuaded his mother that if she did +not invite Mary Garth, the Farebrothers would regard it as a slight +to themselves, Mary being their particular friend. Mary came, and Fred +was in high spirits, though his enjoyment was of a checkered kind-- +triumph that his mother should see Mary's importance with the chief +personages in the party being much streaked with jealousy when +Mr. Farebrother sat down by her. Fred used to be much more easy +about his own accomplishments in the days when he had not begun +to dread being "bowled out by Farebrother," and this terror was +still before him. Mrs. Vincy, in her fullest matronly bloom, +looked at Mary's little figure, rough wavy hair, and visage quite +without lilies and roses, and wondered; trying unsuccessfully +to fancy herself caring about Mary's appearance in wedding clothes, +or feeling complacency in grandchildren who would "feature" the Garths. +However, the party was a merry one, and Mary was particularly bright; +being glad, for Fred's sake, that his friends were getting +kinder to her, and being also quite willing that they should +see how much she was valued by others whom they must admit to be judges. + +Mr. Farebrother noticed that Lydgate seemed bored, and that Mr. Vincy +spoke as little as possible to his son-in-law. Rosamond was perfectly +graceful and calm, and only a subtle observation such as the Vicar +had not been roused to bestow on her would have perceived the total +absence of that interest in her husband's presence which a loving +wife is sure to betray, even if etiquette keeps her aloof from him. +When Lydgate was taking part in the conversation, she never looked +towards him any more than if she had been a sculptured Psyche modelled +to look another way: and when, after being called out for an hour +or two, he re-entered the room, she seemed unconscious of the fact, +which eighteen months before would have had the effect of a numeral +before ciphers. In reality, however, she was intensely aware +of Lydgate's voice and movements; and her pretty good-tempered air +of unconsciousness was a studied negation by which she satisfied +her inward opposition to him without compromise of propriety. +When the ladies were in the drawing-room after Lydgate had been +called away from the dessert, Mrs. Farebrother, when Rosamond +happened to be near her, said--"You have to give up a great deal +of your husband's society, Mrs. Lydgate." + +"Yes, the life of a medical man is very arduous: especially when he +is so devoted to his profession as Mr. Lydgate is," said Rosamond, +who was standing, and moved easily away at the end of this correct +little speech. + +"It is dreadfully dull for her when there is no company," +said Mrs. Vincy, who was seated at the old lady's side. +"I am sure I thought so when Rosamond was ill, and I was staying +with her. You know, Mrs. Farebrother, ours is a cheerful house. +I am of a cheerful disposition myself, and Mr. Vincy always likes +something to be going on. That is what Rosamond has been used to. +Very different from a husband out at odd hours, and never knowing +when he will come home, and of a close, proud disposition, +_I_ think"--indiscreet Mrs. Vincy did lower her tone slightly with +this parenthesis. "But Rosamond always had an angel of a temper; +her brothers used very often not to please her, but she was never +the girl to show temper; from a baby she was always as good as good, +and with a complexion beyond anything. But my children are all +good-tempered, thank God." + +This was easily credible to any one looking at Mrs. Vincy as she threw +back her broad cap-strings, and smiled towards her three little girls, +aged from seven to eleven. But in that smiling glance she was +obliged to include Mary Garth, whom the three girls had got into +a corner to make her tell them stories. Mary was just finishing +the delicious tale of Rumpelstiltskin, which she had well by heart, +because Letty was never tired of communicating it to her ignorant +elders from a favorite red volume. Louisa, Mrs. Vincy's darling, +now ran to her with wide-eyed serious excitement, crying, "Oh mamma, +mamma, the little man stamped so hard on the floor he couldn't +get his leg out again!" + +"Bless you, my cherub!" said mamma; "you shall tell me all about it +to-morrow. Go and listen!" and then, as her eyes followed Louisa +back towards the attractive corner, she thought that if Fred wished +her to invite Mary again she would make no objection, the children +being so pleased with her. + +But presently the corner became still more animated, for Mr. Farebrother +came in, and seating himself behind Louisa, took her on his lap; +whereupon the girls all insisted that he must hear Rumpelstiltskin, +and Mary must tell it over again. He insisted too, and Mary, +without fuss, began again in her neat fashion, with precisely +the same words as before. Fred, who had also seated himself near, +would have felt unmixed triumph in Mary's effectiveness if +Mr. Farebrother had not been looking at her with evident admiration, +while he dramatized an intense interest in the tale to please +the children. + +"You will never care any more about my one-eyed giant, Loo," +said Fred at the end. + +"Yes, I shall. Tell about him now," said Louisa. + +"Oh, I dare say; I am quite cut out. Ask Mr. Farebrother." + +"Yes," added Mary; "ask Mr. Farebrother to tell you about the ants +whose beautiful house was knocked down by a giant named Tom, +and he thought they didn't mind because he couldn't hear them cry, +or see them use their pocket-handkerchiefs." + +"Please," said Louisa, looking up at the Vicar. + +"No, no, I am a grave old parson. If I try to draw a story out +of my bag a sermon comes instead. Shall I preach you a sermon?" +said he, putting on his short-sighted glasses, and pursing up +his lips. + +"Yes," said Louisa, falteringly. + +"Let me see, then. Against cakes: how cakes are bad things, +especially if they are sweet and have plums in them." + +Louisa took the affair rather seriously, and got down from the +Vicar's knee to go to Fred. + +"Ah, I see it will not do to preach on New Year's Day," +said Mr. Farebrother, rising and walking--away. He had discovered +of late that Fred had become jealous of him, and also that he +himself was not losing his preference for Mary above all other women. + +"A delightful young person is Miss Garth," said Mrs. Farebrother, +who had been watching her son's movements. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Vincy, obliged to reply, as the old lady turned +to her expectantly. "It is a pity she is not better-looking." + +"I cannot say that," said Mrs. Farebrother, decisively. "I like +her countenance. We must not always ask for beauty, when a good +God has seen fit to make an excellent young woman without it. +I put good manners first, and Miss Garth will know how to conduct +herself in any station." + +The old lady was a little sharp in her tone, having a prospective +reference to Mary's becoming her daughter-in-law; for there was this +inconvenience in Mary's position with regard to Fred, that it was +not suitable to be made public, and hence the three ladies at Lowick +Parsonage were still hoping that Camden would choose Miss Garth. + +New visitors entered, and the drawing-room was given up to music +and games, while whist-tables were prepared in the quiet room +on the other side of the hall. Mr. Farebrother played a rubber +to satisfy his mother, who regarded her occasional whist as a +protest against scandal and novelty of opinion, in which light +even a revoke had its dignity. But at the end he got Mr. Chichely +to take his place, and left the room. As he crossed the hall, +Lydgate had just come in and was taking off his great-coat. + +"You are the man I was going to look for," said the Vicar; +and instead of entering the drawing-room, they walked along the hall +and stood against the fireplace, where the frosty air helped to make +a glowing bank. "You see, I can leave the whist-table easily enough," +he went on, smiling at Lydgate, "now I don't play for money. +I owe that to you, Mrs. Casaubon says." + +"How?" said Lydgate, coldly. + +"Ah, you didn't mean me to know it; I call that ungenerous reticence. +You should let a man have the pleasure of feeling that you have +done him a good turn. I don't enter into some people's dislike +of being under an obligation: upon my word, I prefer being under +an obligation to everybody for behaving well to me." + +"I can't tell what you mean," said Lydgate, "unless it is that I once +spoke of you to Mrs. Casaubon. But I did not think that she would +break her promise not to mention that I had done so," said Lydgate, +leaning his back against the corner of the mantel-piece, and showing +no radiance in his face. + +"It was Brooke who let it out, only the other day. He paid me +the compliment of saying that he was very glad I had the living +though you had come across his tactics, and had praised me up as a +lien and a Tillotson, and that sort of thing, till Mrs. Casaubon +would hear of no one else." + +"Oh, Brooke is such a leaky-minded fool," said Lydgate, contemptuously. + +"Well, I was glad of the leakiness then. I don't see why you +shouldn't like me to know that you wished to do me a service, +my dear fellow. And you certainly have done me one. It's rather +a strong check to one's self-complacency to find how much of one's +right doing depends on not being in want of money. A man will not +be tempted to say the Lord's Prayer backward to please the devil, +if he doesn't want the devil's services. I have no need to hang +on the smiles of chance now." + +"I don't see that there's any money-getting without chance," +said Lydgate; "if a man gets it in a profession, it's pretty sure +to come by chance." + +Mr. Farebrother thought he could account for this speech, in striking +contrast with Lydgate's former way of talking, as the perversity +which will often spring from the moodiness of a man ill at ease +in his affairs. He answered in a tone of good-humored admission-- + +"Ah, there's enormous patience wanted with the way of the world. +But it is the easier for a man to wait patiently when he has friends +who love him, and ask for nothing better than to help him through, +so far as it lies in their power." + +"Oh yes," said Lydgate, in a careless tone, changing his attitude +and looking at his watch. "People make much more of their +difficulties than they need to do." + +He knew as distinctly as possible that this was an offer of help +to himself from Mr. Farebrother, and he could not bear it. +So strangely determined are we mortals, that, after having been +long gratified with the sense that he had privately done the Vicar +a service, the suggestion that the Vicar discerned his need of a +service in return made him shrink into unconquerable reticence. +Besides, behind all making of such offers what else must come?--that he +should "mention his case," imply that he wanted specific things. +At that moment, suicide seemed easier. + +Mr. Farebrother was too keen a man not to know the meaning of that reply, +and there was a certain massiveness in Lydgate's manner and tone, +corresponding with his physique, which if he repelled your advances +in the first instance seemed to put persuasive devices out of question. + +"What time are you?" said the Vicar, devouring his wounded feeling. + +"After eleven," said Lydgate. And they went into the drawing-room. + +CHAPTER LXIV. + + 1st Gent. Where lies the power, there let the blame lie too. + 2d Gent. Nay, power is relative; you cannot fright + The coming pest with border fortresses, + Or catch your carp with subtle argument. + All force is twain in one: cause is not cause + Unless effect be there; and action's self + Must needs contain a passive. So command + Exists but with obedience." + +Even if Lydgate had been inclined to be quite open about his affairs, +he knew that it would have hardly been in Mr. Farebrother's power +to give him the help he immediately wanted. With the year's bills +coming in from his tradesmen, with Dover's threatening hold on +his furniture, and with nothing to depend on but slow dribbling +payments from patients who must not be offended--for the handsome +fees he had had from Freshitt Hall and Lowick Manor had been +easily absorbed--nothing less than a thousand pounds would have +freed him from actual embarrassment, and left a residue which, +according to the favorite phrase of hopefulness in such circumstances, +would have given him "time to look about him." + +Naturally, the merry Christmas bringing the happy New Year, +when fellow-citizens expect to be paid for the trouble and goods +they have smilingly bestowed on their neighbors, had so tightened +the pressure of sordid cares on Lydgate's mind that it was hardly +possible for him to think unbrokenly of any other subject, even the +most habitual and soliciting. He was not an ill-tempered man; +his intellectual activity, the ardent kindness of his heart, as well +as his strong frame, would always, under tolerably easy conditions, +have kept him above the petty uncontrolled susceptibilities which make +bad temper. But he was now a prey to that worst irritation which +arises not simply from annoyances, but from the second consciousness +underlying those annoyances, of wasted energy and a degrading +preoccupation, which was the reverse of all his former purposes. +"THIS is what I am thinking of; and THAT is what I might +have been thinking of," was the bitter incessant murmur within him, +making every difficulty a double goad to impatience. + +Some gentlemen have made an amazing figure in literature by general +discontent with the universe as a trap of dulness into which their +great souls have fallen by mistake; but the sense of a stupendous +self and an insignificant world may have its consolations. +Lydgate's discontent was much harder to bear: it was the sense that +there was a grand existence in thought and effective action lying +around him, while his self was being narrowed into the miserable +isolation of egoistic fears, and vulgar anxieties for events that might +allay such fears. His troubles will perhaps appear miserably sordid, +and beneath the attention of lofty persons who can know nothing +of debt except on a magnificent scale. Doubtless they were sordid; +and for the majority, who are not lofty, there is no escape from +sordidness but by being free from money-craving, with all its base +hopes and temptations, its watching for death, its hinted requests. +its horse-dealer's desire to make bad work pass for good, +its seeking for function which ought to be another's, its compulsion +often to long for Luck in the shape of a wide calamity. + +It was because Lydgate writhed under the idea of getting his neck +beneath this vile yoke that he had fallen into a bitter moody state +which was continually widening Rosamond's alienation from him. +After the first disclosure about the bill of sale, he had made +many efforts to draw her into sympathy with him about possible +measures for narrowing their expenses, and with the threatening +approach of Christmas his propositions grew more and more definite. +"We two can do with only one servant, and live on very little," +he said, "and I shall manage with one horse." For Lydgate, +as we have seen, had begun to reason, with a more distinct vision, +about the expenses of living, and any share of pride he had given to +appearances of that sort was meagre compared with the pride which made +him revolt from exposure as a debtor, or from asking men to help him +with their money. + +"Of course you can dismiss the other two servants, if you like," +said Rosamond; "but I should have thought it would be very injurious +to your position for us to live in a poor way. You must expect +your practice to be lowered." + +"My dear Rosamond, it is not a question of choice. We have begun +too expensively. Peacock, you know, lived in a much smaller house +than this. It is my fault: I ought to have known better, and I +deserve a thrashing--if there were anybody who had a right to give +it me--for bringing you into the necessity of living in a poorer +way than you have been used to. But we married because we loved +each other, I suppose. And that may help us to pull along till +things get better. Come, dear, put down that work and come to me." + +He was really in chill gloom about her at that moment, but he dreaded +a future without affection, and was determined to resist the oncoming +of division between them. Rosamond obeyed him, and he took her on +his knee, but in her secret soul she was utterly aloof from him. +The poor thing saw only that the world was not ordered to her liking, +and Lydgate was part of that world. But he held her waist with one +hand and laid the other gently on both of hers; for this rather abrupt +man had much tenderness in his manners towards women, seeming to +have always present in his imagination the weakness of their frames +and the delicate poise of their health both in body and mind. +And he began again to speak persuasively. + +"I find, now I look into things a little, Rosy, that it is wonderful +what an amount of money slips away in our housekeeping. I suppose +the servants are careless, and we have had a great many people coming. +But there must be many in our rank who manage with much less: +they must do with commoner things, I suppose, and look after +the scraps. It seems, money goes but a little way in these matters, +for Wrench has everything as plain as possible, and he has a very +large practice." + +"Oh, if you think of living as the Wrenches do!" said Rosamond, +with a little turn of her neck. "But I have heard you express your +disgust at that way of living." + +"Yes, they have bad taste in everything--they make economy look ugly. +We needn't do that. I only meant that they avoid expenses, +although Wrench has a capital practice." + +"Why should not you have a good practice, Tertius? Mr. Peacock had. +You should be more careful not to offend people, and you should +send out medicines as the others do. I am sure you began well, +and you got several good houses. It cannot answer to be eccentric; +you should think what will be generally liked," said Rosamond, in a +decided little tone of admonition. + +Lydgate's anger rose: he was prepared to be indulgent towards +feminine weakness, but not towards feminine dictation. +The shallowness of a waternixie's soul may have a charm until +she becomes didactic. But he controlled himself, and only said, +with a touch of despotic firmness-- + +"What I am to do in my practice, Rosy, it is for me to judge. +That is not the question between us. It is enough for you +to know that our income is likely to be a very narrow one-- +hardly four hundred, perhaps less, for a long time to come, and we +must try to re-arrange our lives in accordance with that fact." + +Rosamond was silent for a moment or two, looking before her, +and then said, "My uncle Bulstrode ought to allow you a salary +for the time you give to the Hospital: it is not right that you +should work for nothing." + +"It was understood from the beginning that my services would +be gratuitous. That, again, need not enter into our discussion. +I have pointed out what is the only probability," said Lydgate, +impatiently. Then checking himself, he went on more quietly-- + +"I think I see one resource which would free us from a good deal +of the present difficulty. I hear that young Ned Plymdale is going +to be married to Miss Sophy Toller. They are rich, and it is not often +that a good house is vacant in Middlemarch. I feel sure that they +would be glad to take this house from us with most of our furniture, +and they would be willing to pay handsomely for the lease. +I can employ Trumbull to speak to Plymdale about it." + +Rosamond left her husband's knee and walked slowly to the other +end of the room; when she turned round and walked towards him it +was evident that the tears had come, and that she was biting her +under-lip and clasping her hands to keep herself from crying. +Lydgate was wretched--shaken with anger and yet feeling that it +would be unmanly to vent the anger just now. + +"I am very sorry, Rosamond; I know this is painful." + +"I thought, at least, when I had borne to send the plate back +and have that man taking an inventory of the furniture--I should +have thought THAT would suffice." + +"I explained it to you at the time, dear. That was only a security +and behind that Security there is a debt. And that debt must be paid +within the next few months, else we shall have our furniture sold. +If young Plymdale will take our house and most of our furniture, +we shall be able to pay that debt, and some others too, and we +shall be quit of a place too expensive for us. We might take +a smaller house: Trumbull, I know, has a very decent one to let +at thirty pounds a-year, and this is ninety." Lydgate uttered this +speech in the curt hammering way with which we usually try to nail +down a vague mind to imperative facts. Tears rolled silently down +Rosamond's cheeks; she just pressed her handkerchief against them, +and stood looking al; the large vase on the mantel-piece. It was +a moment of more intense bitterness than she had ever felt before. +At last she said, without hurry and with careful emphasis-- + +"I never could have believed that you would like to act in that way." + +"Like it?" burst out Lydgate, rising from his chair, thrusting his +hands in his pockets and stalking away from the hearth; "it's not +a question of liking. Of course, I don't like it; it's the only +thing I can do." He wheeled round there, and turned towards her. + +"I should have thought there were many other means than that," +said Rosamond. "Let us have a sale and leave Middlemarch altogether." + +"To do what? What is the use of my leaving my work in Middlemarch +to go where I have none? We should be just as penniless elsewhere +as we are here," said Lydgate still more angrily. + +"If we are to be in that position it will be entirely your +own doing, Tertius," said Rosamond, turning round to speak +with the fullest conviction. "You will not behave as you ought +to do to your own family. You offended Captain Lydgate. +Sir Godwin was very kind to me when we were at Quallingham, +and I am sure if you showed proper regard to him and told him +your affairs, he would do anything for you. But rather than that, +you like giving up our house and furniture to Mr. Ned Plymdale." + +There was something like fierceness in Lydgate's eyes, as he +answered with new violence, "Well, then, if you will have it so, +I do like it. I admit that I like it better than making a fool +of myself by going to beg where it's of no use. Understand then, +that it is what I LIKE TO DO." + +There was a tone in the last sentence which was equivalent +to the clutch of his strong hand on Rosamond's delicate arm. +But for all that, his will was not a whit stronger than hers. +She immediately walked out of the room in silence, but with an intense +determination to hinder what Lydgate liked to do. + +He went out of the house, but as his blood cooled he felt that the chief +result of the discussion was a deposit of dread within him at the idea +of opening with his wife in future subjects which might again urge +him to violent speech. It was as if a fracture in delicate crystal +had begun, and he was afraid of any movement that might mate it fatal. +His marriage would be a mere piece of bitter irony if they could +not go on loving each other. He had long ago made up his mind to +what he thought was her negative character--her want of sensibility, +which showed itself in disregard both of his specific wishes and of +his general aims. The first great disappointment had been borne: +the tender devotedness and docile adoration of the ideal wife must +be renounced, and life must be taken up on a lower stage of expectation, +as it is by men who have lost their limbs. But the real wife +had not only her claims, she had still a hold on his heart, +and it was his intense desire that the hold should remain strong. +In marriage, the certainty, "She will never love me much," +is easier to bear than the fear, "I shall love her no more." Hence, +after that outburst, his inward effort was entirely to excuse her, +and to blame the hard circumstances which were partly his fault. +He tried that evening, by petting her, to heal the wound he had +made in the morning, and it was not in Rosamond's nature to be +repellent or sulky; indeed, she welcomed the signs that her husband +loved her and was under control. But this was something quite +distinct from loving HIM. Lydgate would not have chosen soon +to recur to the plan of parting with the house; he was resolved +to carry it out, and say as little more about it as possible. +But Rosamond herself touched on it at breakfast by saying, mildly-- + +"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 +she withdrew her inward opposition, and kissed her head caressingly +when he 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 congratulations +into the of the coming marriage. Mrs. Plymdale's maternal view was, +that Rosamond might possibly now have retrospective glimpses +of her own folly; and feeling the advantages to be at present +all on the side of 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 could desire in a daughter-in-law. Of course her father is +able to do something handsome for her--that is only what would +be expected with a brewery like his. And the connection is +everything we should desire. But that is not 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. +I see very little good in people aiming out of their own sphere. +I mean that Sophy 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 +too high, that he should have got into the very best connection," +continued Mrs. Plymdale, her native sharpness softened by a fervid +sense that she was 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 is well known that your aunt Bulstrode +and I have been intimate from our youth, and Mr. Plymdale has been +always on Mr. Bulstrode's side. And I myself prefer serious opinions. +But the Tollers have welcomed Ned all the same." + +"I am sure he is a very deserving, well-principled young man," +said Rosamond, with a neat air of patronage in return for +Mrs. Plymdale's wholesome corrections. + +"Oh, he has not the style of a captain in the army, or that sort +of carriage 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 a poor 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 +happy couple. What house will they take?" + +"Oh, as for that, they must put up with what they can get. +They have been looking at the house in St. Peter's Place, next to +Mr. Hackbutt's; it belongs to him, and he is putting it nicely +in repair. I suppose they are not likely to hear of a better. +Indeed, I think Ned will decide the matter to-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 windows are narrow, and it is all ups and downs. +You don't happen to know of any other that would be at liberty?" +said Mrs. Plymdale, fixing her round black eyes on Rosamond +with the animation of a sudden thought in them. + +"Oh no; I hear so little of those things." + +Rosamond had not foreseen that question and answer in setting out to pay +her visit; she had simply meant to gather any information which would +help her to avert the parting with her own house under circumstances +thoroughly disagreeable to her. As to the untruth in her reply, +she no more reflected on it than she did on the untruth there was +in her saying that appearances had very little to do with happiness. +Her object, she was convinced, was thoroughly justifiable: +it was Lydgate whose intention was inexcusable; and there was a plan +in her mind which, when she had carried it out fully, would prove +how very false a step it would have been for him to have descended +from his position. + +She returned home by Mr. Borthrop Trumbull's office, meaning to +call there. It was the first time in her life that Rosamond had +thought of doing anything in the form of business, but she felt +equal to the occasion. That she should be obliged to do what she +intensely disliked, was an idea which turned her quiet tenacity +into active invention. Here was a case in which it could not be +enough simply to disobey and be serenely, placidly obstinate: +she must act according to her judgment, and she said to herself +that her judgment was right--"indeed, if it had not been, +she would not have wished to act on it." + +Mr. Trumbull was in the back-room of his office, and received +Rosamond with his finest manners, not only because he had much +sensibility to her charms, but because the good-natured fibre in him +was stirred by his certainty that Lydgate was in difficulties, +and that this uncommonly pretty woman--this young lady with the highest +personal attractions--was likely to feel the pinch of trouble-- +to find herself involved in circumstances beyond her control. +He begged her to do him the honor to take a seat, and stood before +her trimming and comporting himself 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, +trying to throw something soothing into his iteration. +"I was about to fulfil his order, 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 of you not to mention what has been said on the subject. +Will you oblige me?" + +"Certainly I will, Mrs. Lydgate, certainly. Confidence is sacred +with me on business or any other topic. I am then to consider the +commission withdrawn?" said Mr. Trumbull, adjusting the long ends +of his blue cravat 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 be annoyed 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 felt +pleasure in conjecturing that some new resources had been opened. +"Rely on me, I beg. The affair shall go no further." + +That evening Lydgate was a little comforted by observing that Rosamond +was more lively than she had usually been of late, and even seemed +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 all signify? It is only a narrow swamp that we have to pass +in a long journey. If I can get my mind clear again, I shall do." + +He was so much cheered that he began to search for an account +of experiments which he had long ago meant to look up, and had +neglected out of that creeping self-despair which comes in the train +of petty anxieties. He felt again some of the old delightful +absorption in a far-reaching inquiry, while Rosamond played the +quiet music which was as helpful to his meditation as the plash +of an oar on the evening lake. It was rather late; he had pushed +away all the books, and was looking at the fire with his hands +clasped behind his head in forgetfulness of everything except the +construction of a new controlling experiment, when Rosamond, who +had left the piano and was leaning back in her chair watching him, said-- + +"Mr. Ned Plymdale has taken a house already." + +Lydgate, startled and jarred, looked up in silence for a moment, +like a man who has been disturbed in his sleep. Then flushing +with an unpleasant consciousness, he asked-- + +"How do you know?" + +"I called at Mrs. Plymdale's this morning, and she told me that he +had taken the house in St. Peter's Place, next to Mr. Hackbutt's." + +Lydgate was silent. He drew his hands from behind his head and +pressed them against the hair which was hanging, as it was apt to do, +in a mass on his forehead, while he rested his elbows on his knees. +He was feeling bitter disappointment, as if he had opened +a door out of a suffocating place and had found it walled up; +but he also felt sure that Rosamond was pleased with the cause of +his disappointment. He preferred not looking at her and not speaking, +until he had got over the first spasm of vexation. After all, +he said in his bitterness, what can a woman care about so much +as house and furniture? a husband without them is an absurdity. +When he looked up and pushed his hair aside, his dark 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 +the look-out if he failed with Plymdale." + +Rosamond made no remark. She trusted to the chance that nothing +more would pass between her husband and the auctioneer until some +issue should have justified her interference; at any rate, she had +hindered the event which she immediately dreaded. After a pause, +she said-- + +"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 money +would satisfy them so that you need not be troubled any more?" + +Lydgate surveyed her for a moment, as if he were looking for symptoms, +and then said, "Oh, if I could have got six hundred from Plymdale +for furniture and as premium, I might have managed. I could have +paid off Dover, and given enough on account to the others to make +them 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 +a grating sarcasm in his tone. It angered him to perceive that +Rosamond's mind was wandering over impracticable wishes instead +of facing possible efforts. + +"Why should you not mention the sum?" said Rosamond, with a mild +indication that she did not like his manners. + +"Well," said Lydgate in a guessing tone, "it would take at least +a thousand to set me at ease. But," he added, incisively, "I have +to consider what 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 +Godwin Lydgate. Since the Captain's visit, she had received a +letter from him, and also one from Mrs. Mengan, his married sister, +condoling with her on the loss of her baby, and expressing +vaguely the hope that they should see her again at Quallingham. +Lydgate had told her that this politeness meant nothing; but she +was secretly convinced that any backwardness in Lydgate's family +towards him was due to his cold and contemptuous behavior, and she +had answered the letters in her most charming manner, feeling some +confidence that a specific invitation would follow. But there had +been total silence. The Captain evidently was not a great penman, +and Rosamond reflected that the sisters might have been abroad. +However, the season was come for thinking of friends at home, +and at any rate Sir Godwin, who had chucked her under the chin, +and pronounced her to be like the celebrated beauty, Mrs. Croly, +who had made a conquest of him in 1790, would be touched by any appeal +from her, and would find it pleasant for her sake to behave as he ought +to do towards his nephew. Rosamond was naively convinced of what an +old gentleman ought to do to prevent her from suffering annoyance. +And she wrote what she considered the most judicious letter possible-- +one which would strike Sir Godwin as a proof of her excellent sense-- +pointing out how desirable it was that Tertius should quit such a place +as Middlemarch for one more fitted to his talents, how the unpleasant +character of the inhabitants had hindered his professional success, +and how in consequence he was in money difficulties, from which it +would require a thousand pounds thoroughly to extricate him. +She did not say that Tertius was unaware of her intention to write; +for she had the idea that his supposed sanction of her letter would +be in accordance with what she did say of his great regard for his +uncle Godwin as the relative who had always been his best friend. +Such was the force of Poor Rosamond's tactics now she applied them +to affairs. + +This had happened before the party on New Year's Day, and no answer +had yet come from Sir Godwin. But on the morning of that day +Lydgate had to learn that Rosamond had revoked his order to +Borthrop Trumbull. Feeling it necessary that she should be gradually +accustomed to the idea of their quitting the house in Lowick Gate, +he overcame his reluctance to speak to her again on the subject, +and when they were breakfasting said-- + +"I shall try to see Trumbull this morning, and tell him to. +advertise the house in the `Pioneer' and the `Trumpet.' If the thing +were advertised, some one might be inclined to take it who would +not otherwise have thought of a change. In these country places +many people go on in their old houses when their families are too +large for them, for want of knowing where they can find another. +And Trumbull seems to have got no bite at all." + +Rosamond knew that the inevitable moment was come. "I ordered +Trumbull not to inquire further," she said, with a careful calmness +which was evidently defensive. + +Lydgate stared at her in mute amazement. Only half an hour +before he had been fastening up her plaits for her, and talking +the "little language" of affection, which Rosamond, though not +returning it, accepted as if she had been a serene and lovely image, +now and then miraculously dimpling towards her votary. +With such fibres still astir in him, the shock he received could +not at once be distinctly anger; it was confused pain. He laid +down the knife and fork with which he was carving, and throwing +himself back in his chair, said at last, with a cool irony 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 tell +him not to mention ours to them; and at the same time I told him +not to let the affair go on any further. I knew that it would be +very injurious to you if it were known that you wished to part with +your house and furniture, and I had a very strong objection to it. +I think that was reason enough." + +"It was of no consequence then that I had told you imperative +reasons of another kind; of no consequence that I had come to a +different conclusion, and given an order accordingly?" said Lydgate, +bitingly, the thunder and lightning gathering about his brow and eyes. + +The effect of any one's anger on Rosamond had always been to make +her shrink in cold dislike, and to become all the more calmly correct, +in the conviction that she was not the person to misbehave whatever +others might do. She replied-- + +"I think I had a perfect right to speak on a subject which concerns +me at least as much as you." + +"Clearly--you had a right to speak, but only to me. You had no right +to contradict my orders secretly, and treat me as if I were a fool," +said Lydgate, in the same tone as before. Then with some added scorn, +"Is it possible to make you understand what the consequences will be? +Is it of any use for me to tell you again why we must try to part +with the house?" + +"It is not necessary for you to tell me again," said Rosamond, +in a voice that fell and trickled like cold water-drops. "I remembered +what you said. You spoke just as violently as you do now. +But that does not alter my opinion that you ought to try every +other means rather than take a step which is so painful to me. +And as to advertising the house, I think it would be perfectly +degrading to you." + +"And suppose I disregard your opinion as you disregard mine?" + +"You can do so, of course. But I think you ought to have told me +before we were married that you would place me in the worst position, +rather than give up your own will." + +Lydgate did not speak, but tossed his head on one side, and twitched +the corners of his mouth in despair. Rosamond, seeing that he was +not looking at her, rose and set his cup of coffee before him; but he +took no notice of it, and went on with an inward drama and argument, +occasionally moving in his seat, resting one arm on the table, +and rubbing his hand against his hair. There was a conflux of emotions +and thoughts in him that would not let him either give thorough +way to his anger or persevere with simple rigidity of resolve. +Rosamond took advantage of his silence. + +"When we were married everyone felt that your position was very high. +I could not have imagined then that you would want to sell our furniture, +and take a house in Bride Street, where the rooms are like cages. +If we are to live in that way let us at least leave Middlemarch." + +"These would be very strong considerations," said Lydgate, +half ironically--still there was a withered paleness about his +lips as he looked at his coffee, and did not drink--"these would +be very strong considerations if I did not happen to be in debt." + +"Many persons must have been in debt in the same way, but if they +are respectable, people trust them. I am sure I have heard papa +say that the Torbits were in debt, and they went on very well It +cannot be good to act rashly," said Rosamond, with serene wisdom. + +Lydgate sat paralyzed by opposing impulses: since no reasoning +he could apply to Rosamond seemed likely to conquer her assent, +he wanted to smash and grind some object on which he could at least +produce an impression, or else to tell her brutally that he was master, +and she must obey. But he not only dreaded the effect of such +extremities on their mutual life--he had a growing dread of Rosamond's +quiet elusive obstinacy, which would not allow any assertion of power +to be final; and again, she had touched him in a spot of keenest +feeling by implying that she had been deluded with a false vision +of happiness in marrying him. As to saying that he was master, +it was not the fact. The very resolution to which he had wrought +himself by dint of logic and honorable pride was beginning to relax +under her torpedo contact. He swallowed half his cup of coffee, +and then rose to go. + +"I may at least request that you will not go to Trumbull at present-- +until it has been seen that there are no other means," said Rosamond. +Although she was not subject to much fear, she felt it safer not +to betray that she had written to Sir Godwin. "Promise me that you +will not go to him for a few weeks, or without telling me." + +Lydgate gave a short laugh. "I think it is I who should exact +a promise that you will do nothing without telling me," he said, +turning his eyes sharply upon her, and then moving to the door. + +"You remember that we are going to dine at papa's," said Rosamond, +wishing that he should turn and make a more thorough concession +to her. But he only said "Oh yes," impatiently, and went away. +She held it to be very odious in him that he did not think +the painful propositions he had had to make to her were enough, +without showing so unpleasant a temper. And when she put the +moderate request that he would defer going to Trumbull again, +it was cruel in him not to assure her of what he meant to do. +She was convinced of her having acted in every way for the best; +and each grating or angry speech of Lydgate's served only +as an addition to the register of offences in her mind. +Poor Rosamond for months had begun to associate her husband with +feelings of disappointment, and the terribly inflexible relation +of marriage had lost its charm of encouraging delightful dreams. +It had freed her from the disagreeables of her father's house, +but it had not given her everything that she had wished and hoped. +The Lydgate with whom she had been in love had been a group of airy +conditions for her, most of which had disappeared, while their +place had been taken by every-day details which must be lived +through slowly from hour to hour, not floated through with a rapid +selection of favorable aspects. The habits of Lydgate's profession, +his home preoccupation with scientific subjects, which seemed +to her almost like a morbid vampire's taste, his peculiar views +of things which had never entered into the dialogue of courtship-- +all these continually alienating influences, even without the fact +of his having placed himself at a disadvantage in the town, +and without that first shock of revelation about Dover's debt, +would have made his presence dull to her. There was another +presence which ever since the early days of her marriage, until four +months ago, had been an agreeable excitement, but that was gone: +Rosamond would not confess to herself how much the consequent blank +had to do with her utter ennui; and it seemed to her (perhaps +she was right) that an invitation to Quallingham, and an opening +for Lydgate to settle elsewhere than in Middlemarch--in London, +or somewhere likely to be free from unpleasantness--would satisfy her +quite well, and make her indifferent to the absence of Will Ladislaw, +towards whom she felt some resentment for his exaltation of +Mrs. Casaubon. + +That was the state of things with Lydgate and Rosamond on the New +Year's Day when they dined at her father's, she looking mildly +neutral towards him in remembrance of his ill-tempered behavior +at breakfast, and he carrying a much deeper effect from the inward +conflict in which that morning scene was only one of many epochs. +His flushed effort while talking to Mr. Farebrother--his effort after +the cynical pretence that all ways of getting money are essentially +the same, and that chance has an empire which reduces choice +to a fool's illusion--was but the symptom of a wavering resolve, +a benumbed response to the old stimuli of enthusiasm. + +What was he to do? He saw even more keenly than Rosamond did +the dreariness of taking her into the small house in Bride Street, +where she would have scanty furniture around her and discontent within: +a life of privation and life with Rosamond were two images which +had become more and more irreconcilable ever since the threat +of privation had disclosed itself. But even if his resolves had +forced the two images into combination, the useful preliminaries +to that hard change were not visibly within reach. And though +he had not given the promise which his wife had asked for, +he did not go again to Trumbull. He even began to think +of taking a rapid journey to the North and seeing Sir Godwin. +He had once believed that nothing would urge him into making +an application for money to his uncle, but he had not then known +the full pressure of alternatives yet more disagreeable. He could +not depend on the effect of a letter; it was only in an interview, +however disagreeable this might be to himself, that he could give +a thorough explanation and could test the effectiveness of kinship. +No sooner had Lydgate begun to represent this step to himself as +the easiest than there was a reaction of anger that he--he who had +long ago determined to live aloof from such abject calculations, +such self-interested anxiety about the inclinations and the pockets +of men with whom he had been proud to have no aims in common--should have +fallen not simply to their level, but to the level of soliciting them. + +CHAPTER LXV. + + "One of us two must bowen douteless, + And, sith a man is more reasonable + Than woman is, ye [men] moste be suffrable. + --CHAUCER: Canterbury Tales. + +The bias of human nature to be slow in correspondence triumphs +even over the present quickening in the general pace of things: +what wonder then that in 1832 old Sir Godwin Lydgate was slow +to write a letter which was of consequence to others rather +than to himself? Nearly three weeks of the new year were gone, +and Rosamond, awaiting an answer to her winning appeal, was every +day disappointed. Lydgate, in total ignorance of her expectations, +was seeing the bills come in, and feeling that Dover's use of +his advantage over other creditors was imminent. He had never +mentioned to Rosamond his brooding purpose of going to Quallingham: +he did not want to admit what would appear to her a concession +to her wishes after indignant refusal, until the last moment; +but he was really expecting to set off soon. A slice of the railway +would enable him to manage the whole journey and back in four days. + +But one morning after Lydgate had gone out, a letter came addressed +to him, which Rosamond saw clearly to be from Sir Godwin. She was full +of hope. Perhaps there might be a particular note to her enclosed; +but Lydgate was naturally addressed on the question of money or other aid, +and the fact that he was written to, nay, the very delay in writing +at all, seemed to certify that the answer was thoroughly compliant. +She was too much excited by these thoughts to do anything but light +stitching in a warm corner of the dining-room, with the outside +of this momentous letter lying on the table before her. About twelve +she heard her husband's step in the passage, and tripping to open +the door, she said in her lightest tones, "Tertius, come in here-- +here is a letter for you." + +"Ah?" he said, not taking off his hat, but just turning her round +within his arm to walk towards the spot where the letter lay. +"My uncle Godwin!" he exclaimed, while Rosamond reseated herself, +and watched him as he opened the letter. She had expected him to +be surprised. + +While Lydgate's eyes glanced rapidly over the brief letter, she saw +his face, usually of a pale brown, taking on a dry whiteness; +with nostrils and lips quivering he tossed down the letter before her, +and said violently-- + +"It will be impossible to endure life with you, if you will always +be acting secretly--acting in opposition to me and hiding your actions." + +He checked his speech and turned his back on her--then wheeled +round and walked about, sat down, and got up again restlessly, +grasping hard the objects deep down in his pockets. He was afraid +of saying something irremediably cruel. + +Rosamond too had changed color as she read. The letter ran +in this way:-- + +"DEAR TERTIUS,--Don't set your wife to write to me when you have +anything to ask. It is a roundabout wheedling sort of thing +which I should not have credited you with. I never choose to write +to a woman on matters of business. As to my supplying you with a +thousand pounds, or only half that sum, I can do nothing of the sort. +My own family drains me to the last penny. With two younger sons +and three daughters, I am not likely to have cash to spare. You seem +to have got through your own money pretty quickly, and to have made +a mess where you are; the sooner you go somewhere else the better. +But I have nothing to do with men of your profession, and can't +help you there. I did the best I could for you as guardian, +and let you have your own way in taking to medicine. You might +have gone into the army or the Church. Your money would have held +out for that, and there would have been a surer ladder before you. +Your uncle Charles has had a grudge against you for not going +into his profession, but not I. I have always wished you well, +but you must consider yourself on your own legs entirely now. + Your affectionate uncle, + GODWIN LYDGATE." + +When Rosamond had finished reading the letter she sat quite still, +with her hands folded before her, restraining any show of her +keen disappointment, and intrenching herself in quiet passivity +under her husband's wrath Lydgate paused in his movements, +looked at her again, and said, with biting severity-- + +"Will this be enough to convince you of the harm you may +do by secret meddling? Have you sense enough to recognize +now your incompetence to judge and act for me--to interfere +with your ignorance in affairs which it belongs to me to decide on?" + +The words were hard; but this was not the first time that Lydgate +had been frustrated by her. She did not look at him, and made +no reply. + +"I had nearly resolved on going to Quallingham. It would have cost +me pain enough to do it, yet it might have been of some use. +But it has been of no use for me to think of anything. +You have always been counteracting me secretly. You delude me +with a false assent, and then I am at the mercy of your devices. +If you mean to resist every wish I express, say so and defy me. +I shall at least know what I am doing then." + +It is a terrible moment in young lives when the closeness of love's +bond has turned to this power of galling. In spite of Rosamond's +self-control a tear fell silently and rolled over her lips. She still +said nothing; but under that quietude was hidden an intense effect: +she was in such entire disgust with her husband that she wished she +had never seen him. Sir Godwin's rudeness towards her and utter +want of feeling ranged him with Dover and all other creditors-- +disagreeable people who only thought of themselves, and did not +mind how annoying they were to her. Even her father was unkind, +and might have done more for them. In fact there was but one person +in Rosamond's world whom she did not regard as blameworthy, and that +was the graceful creature with blond plaits and with little hands +crossed before her, who had never expressed herself unbecomingly, +and had always acted for the best--the best naturally being what she +best liked. + +Lydgate pausing and looking at her began to feel that half-maddening +sense of helplessness which comes over passionate people when their +passion is met by an innocent-looking silence whose meek victimized +air seems to put them in the wrong, and at last infects even the +justest indignation with a doubt of its justice. He needed to +recover the full sense that he was in the right by moderating his words. + +"Can you not see, Rosamond," he began again, trying to be simply +grave and not bitter, "that nothing can be so fatal as a want of +openness and confidence between us? It has happened again and again +that I have expressed a decided wish, and you have seemed to assent, +yet after that you have secretly disobeyed my wish. In that way I can +never know what I have to trust to. There would be some hope for us +if you would admit this. Am I such an unreasonable, furious brute? +Why should you not be open with me?" Still silence. + +"Will you only say that you have been mistaken, and that I may +depend on your not acting secretly in future?" said Lydgate, +urgently, but with something of request in his tone which Rosamond +was quick to perceive. She spoke with coolness. + +"I cannot possibly make admissions or promises in answer to such +words as you have used towards me. I have not been accustomed +to language of that kind. You have spoken of my `secret meddling,' +and my `interfering ignorance,' and my `false assent.' I have never +expressed myself in that way to you, and I think that you ought +to apologize. You spoke of its being impossible to live with me. +Certainly you have not made my life pleasant to me of late. +I think it was to be expected that I should try to avert some of +the hardships which our marriage has brought on me." Another tear +fell as Rosamond ceased speaking, and she pressed it away as quietly +as the first. + +Lydgate flung himself into a chair, feeling checkmated. What place +was there in her mind for a remonstrance to lodge in? He laid down +his hat, flung an arm over the back of his chair, and looked down +for some moments without speaking. Rosamond had the double purchase +over him of insensibility to the point of justice in his reproach, +and of sensibility to the undeniable hardships now present in her +married life. Although her duplicity in the affair of the house +had exceeded what he knew, and had really hindered the Plymdales +from knowing of it, she had no consciousness that her action could +rightly be called false. We are not obliged to identify our own acts +according to a strict classification, any more than the materials +of our grocery and clothes. Rosamond felt that she was aggrieved, +and that this was what Lydgate had to recognize. + +As for him, the need of accommodating himself to her nature, which was +inflexible in proportion to its negations, held him as with pincers. +He had begun to have an alarmed foresight of her irrevocable loss +of love for him, and the consequent dreariness of their life. +The ready fulness of his emotions made this dread alternate quickly +with the first violent movements of his anger. It would assuredly +have been a vain boast in him to say that he was her master. + +"You have not made my life pleasant to me of late"--"the hardships +which our marriage has brought on me"--these words were +stinging his imagination as a pain makes an exaggerated dream. +If he were not only to sink from his highest resolve, +but to sink into the hideous fettering of domestic hate? + +"Rosamond," he said, turning his eyes on her with a melancholy look, +"you should allow for a man's words when he is disappointed +and provoked. You and I cannot have opposite interests. +I cannot part my happiness from yours. If I am angry with you, +it is that you seem not to see how any concealment divides us. +How could I wish to make anything hard to you either by my words +or conduct? When I hurt you, I hurt part of my own life. I should +never be angry with you if you would be quite open with me." + +"I have only wished to prevent you from hurrying us into wretchedness +without any necessity," said Rosamond, the tears coming again +from a softened feeling now that her husband had softened. +"It is so very hard to be disgraced here among all the people we know, +and to live in such a miserable way. I wish I had died with the baby." + +She spoke and wept with that gentleness which makes such words +and tears omnipotent over a loving-hearted man. Lydgate drew +his chair near to hers and pressed her delicate head against +his cheek with his powerful tender hand. He only caressed her; +he did not say anything; for what was there to say? He could not +promise to shield her from the dreaded wretchedness, for he could +see no sure means of doing so. When he left her to go out again, +he told himself that it was ten times harder for her than for him: +he had a life away from home, and constant appeals to his activity on +behalf of others. He wished to excuse everything in her if he could-- +but it was inevitable that in that excusing mood he should think +of her as if she were an animal of another and feebler species. +Nevertheless she had mastered him. + +CHAPTER LXVI. + + "'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, + Another thing to fall." + --Measure for Measure. + +Lydgate certainly had good reason to reflect on the service +his practice did him in counteracting his personal cares. +He had no longer free energy enough for spontaneous research and +speculative thinking, but by the bedside of patients, the direct +external calls on his judgment and sympathies brought the added +impulse needed to draw him out of himself. It was not simply +that beneficent harness of routine which enables silly men to live +respectably and unhappy men to live calmly--it was a perpetual +claim on the immediate fresh application of thought, and on the +consideration of another's need and trial. Many of us looking back +through life would say that the kindest man we have ever known +has been a medical man, or perhaps that surgeon whose fine tact, +directed by deeply informed perception, has come to us in our need +with a more sublime beneficence than that of miracle-workers. Some +of that twice-blessed mercy was always with Lydgate in his work at the +Hospital or in private houses, serving better than any opiate to quiet +and sustain him under his anxieties and his sense of mental degeneracy. + +Mr. Farebrother's suspicion as to the opiate was true, however. +Under the first galling pressure of foreseen difficulties, +and the first perception that his marriage, if it were not to be +a yoked loneliness, must be a state of effort to go on loving +without too much care about being loved, he had once or twice +tried a dose of opium. But he had no hereditary constitutional +craving after such transient escapes from the hauntings of misery. +He was strong, could drink a great deal of wine, but did not care +about it; and when the men round him were drinking spirits, he took +sugar and water, having a contemptuous pity even for the earliest +stages of excitement from drink. It was the same with gambling. +He had looked on at a great deal of gambling in Paris, watching it +as if it had been a disease. He was no more tempted by such winning +than he was by drink. He had said to himself that the only winning +he cared for must be attained by a conscious process of high, +difficult combination tending towards a beneficent result. +The power he longed for could not be represented by agitated fingers +clutching a heap of coin, or by the half-barbarous, half-idiotic +triumph in the eyes of a man who sweeps within his arms the ventures +of twenty chapfallen companions. + +But just as he had tried opium, so his thought now began to turn +upon gambling--not with appetite for its excitement, but with a +sort of wistful inward gaze after that easy way of getting money, +which implied no asking and brought no responsibility. If he had been +in London or Paris at that time, it is probable that such thoughts, +seconded by opportunity, would have taken him into a gambling-house, +no longer to watch the gamblers, but to watch with them in +kindred eagerness. Repugnance would have been surmounted by the +immense need to win, if chance would be kind enough to let him. +An incident which happened not very long after that airy notion +of getting aid from his uncle had been excluded, was a strong sign +of the effect that might have followed any extant opportunity of gambling. + +The billiard-room at the Green Dragon was the constant resort of +a certain set, most of whom, like our acquaintance Mr. Bambridge, +were regarded as men of pleasure. It was here that poor Fred Vincy +had made part of his memorable debt, having lost money in betting, +and been obliged to borrow of that gay companion. It was generally known +in Middlemarch that a good deal of money was lost and won in this way; +and the consequent repute of the Green Dragon as a place of dissipation +naturally heightened in some quarters the temptation to go there. +Probably its regular visitants, like the initiates of freemasonry, +wished that there were something a little more tremendous to keep +to themselves concerning it; but they were not a closed community, +and many decent seniors as well as juniors occasionally turned into +the billiard-room to see what was going on. Lydgate, who had the +muscular aptitude for billiards, and was fond of the game, had once +or twice in the early days after his arrival in Middlemarch taken +his turn with the cue at the Green Dragon; but afterwards he had no +leisure for the game, and no inclination for the socialities there. +One evening, however, he had occasion to seek Mr. Bambridge at +that resort. The horsedealer had engaged to get him a customer +for his remaining good horse, for which Lydgate had determined +to substitute a cheap hack, hoping by this reduction of style +to get perhaps twenty pounds; and he cared now for every small sum, +as a help towards feeding the patience of his tradesmen. To run up +to the billiard-room, as he was passing, would save time. + +Mr. Bambridge was not yet come, bat would be sure to arrive by-and-by, +said his friend Mr. Horrock; and Lydgate stayed, playing a game +for the sake of passing the time. That evening he had the peculiar +light in the eyes and the unusual vivacity which had been once +noticed in him by Mr. Farebrother. The exceptional fact of his +presence was much noticed in the room, where there was a good deal +of Middlemarch company; and several lookers-on, as well as some of +the players, were betting with animation. Lydgate was playing well, +and felt confident; the bets were dropping round him, and with a swift +glancing thought of the probable gain which might double the sum +he was saving from his horse, he began to bet on his own play, +and won again and again. Mr. Bambridge had come in, but Lydgate +did not notice him. He was not only excited with his play, +but visions were gleaming on him of going the next day to Brassing, +where there was gambling on a grander scale to be had, and where, +by one powerful snatch at the devil's bait, he might carry it off +without the hook, and buy his rescue from his daily solicitings. + +He was still winning when two new visitors entered. One of them +was a young Hawley, just come from his law studies in town, and the +other was Fred Vincy, who had spent several evenings of late at this +old haunt of his. Young Hawley, an accomplished billiard-player, +brought a cool fresh hand to the cue. But Fred Vincy, startled at +seeing Lydgate, and astonished to see him betting with an excited air, +stood aside, and kept out of the circle round the table. + +Fred had been rewarding resolution by a little laxity of late. +He had been working heartily for six months at all outdoor occupations +under Mr. Garth, and by dint of severe practice had nearly mastered +the defects of his handwriting, this practice being, perhaps, +a little the less severe that it was often carried on in the evening +at Mr. Garth's under the eyes of Mary. But the last fortnight +Mary had been staying at Lowick Parsonage with the ladies there, +during Mr. Farebrother's residence in Middlemarch, where he was +carrying out some parochial plans; and Fred, not seeing anything +more agreeable to do, had turned into the Green Dragon, partly to +play at billiards, partly to taste the old flavor of discourse +about horses, sport, and things in general, considered from a point +of view which was not strenuously correct. He had not been out +hunting once this season, had had no horse of his own to ride, +and had gone from place to place chiefly with Mr. Garth in his gig, +or on the sober cob which Mr. Garth could lend him. It was a little +too bad, Fred began to think, that he should be kept in the traces +with more severity than if he had been a clergyman. "I will tell +you what, Mistress Mary--it will be rather harder work to learn +surveying and drawing plans than it would have been to write sermons," +he had said, wishing her to appreciate what he went through for +her sake; "and as to Hercules and Theseus, they were nothing to me. +They had sport, and never learned to write a bookkeeping hand." +And now, Mary being out of the way for a little while, Fred, +like any other strong dog who cannot slip his collar, had pulled +up the staple of his chain and made a small escape, not of course +meaning to go fast or far. There could be no reason why he +should not play at billiards, but he was determined not to bet. +As to money just now, Fred had in his mind the heroic project of +saving almost all of the eighty pounds that Mr. Garth offered him, +and returning it, which he could easily do by giving up all futile +money-spending, since he had a superfluous stock of clothes, +and no expense in his board. In that way he could, in one year, +go a good way towards repaying the ninety pounds of which he had +deprived Mrs. Garth, unhappily at a time when she needed that sum +more than she did now. Nevertheless, it must be acknowledged +that on this evening, which was the fifth of his recent visits +to the billiard-room, Fred had, not in his pocket, but in his mind, +the ten pounds which he meant to reserve for himself from his +half-year's salary (having before him the pleasure of carrying +thirty to Mrs. Garth when Mary was likely to be come home again)-- +he had those ten pounds in his mind as a fund from which he +might risk something, if there were a chance of a good bet. +Why? Well, when sovereigns were flying about, why shouldn't +he catch a few? He would never go far along that road again; +but a man likes to assure himself, and men of pleasure generally, +what he could do in the way of mischief if he chose, and that +if he abstains from making himself ill, or beggaring himself, +or talking with the utmost looseness which the narrow limits +of human capacity will allow, it is not because he is a spooney. +Fred did not enter into formal reasons, which are a very artificial, +inexact way of representing the tingling returns of old habit, +and the caprices of young blood: but there was lurking in him +a prophetic sense that evening, that when he began to play he should +also begin to bet--that he should enjoy some punch-drinking, and in +general prepare himself for feeling "rather seedy" in the morning. +It is in such indefinable movements that action often begins. + +But the last thing likely to have entered Fred's expectation +was that he should see his brother-in-law Lydgate--of whom he +had never quite dropped the old opinion that he was a prig, +and tremendously conscious of his superiority--looking excited +and betting, just as he himself might have done. Fred felt a shock +greater than he could quite account for by the vague knowledge that +Lydgate was in debt, and that his father had refused to help him; +and his own inclination to enter into the play was suddenly checked. +It was a strange reversal of attitudes: Fred's blond face and blue eyes, +usually bright and careless, ready to give attention to anything +that held out a promise of amusement, looking involuntarily grave +and almost embarrassed as if by the sight of something unfitting; +while Lydgate, who had habitually an air of self-possessed strength, +and a certain meditativeness that seemed to lie behind his most +observant attention, was acting, watching, speaking with that excited +narrow consciousness which reminds one of an animal with fierce +eyes and retractile claws. + +Lydgate, by betting on his own strokes, had won sixteen pounds; +but young Hawley's arrival had changed the poise of things. He made +first-rate strokes himself, and began to bet against Lydgate's strokes, +the strain of whose nerves was thus changed from simple confidence +in his own movements to defying another person's doubt in them. +The defiance was more exciting than the confidence, but it was less sure. +He continued to bet on his own play, but began often to fail. Still he +went on, for his mind was as utterly narrowed into that precipitous +crevice of play as if he had been the most ignorant lounger there. +Fred observed that Lydgate was losing fast, and found himself in the +new situation of puzzling his brains to think of some device by which, +without being offensive, he could withdraw Lydgate's attention, +and perhaps suggest to him a reason for quitting the room. He saw +that others were observing Lydgate's strange unlikeness to himself, +and it occurred to him that merely to touch his elbow and call +him aside for a moment might rouse him from his absorption. +He could think of nothing cleverer than the daring improbability +of saying that he wanted to see Rosy, and wished to know if she +were at home this evening; and he was going desperately to carry +out this weak device, when a waiter came up to him with a message, +saying that Mr. Farebrother was below, and begged to speak with him. + +Fred was surprised, not quite comfortably, but sending word +that he would be down immediately, he went with a new impulse up +to Lydgate, said, "Can I speak to you a moment?" and drew him aside. + +"Farebrother has just sent up a message to say that he wants to speak +to me. He is below. I thought you might like to know he was there, +if you had anything to say to him." + +Fred had simply snatched up this pretext for speaking, because he +could not say, "You are losing confoundedly, and are making everybody +stare at you; you had better come away." But inspiration could +hardly have served him better. Lydgate had not before seen that +Fred was present, and his sudden appearance with an announcement +of Mr. Farebrother had the effect of a sharp concussion. + +"No, no," said Lydgate; "I have nothing particular to say to him. +But--the game is up--I must be going--I came in just to see Bambridge." + +"Bambridge is over there, but he is making a row--I don't think +he's ready for business. Come down with me to Farebrother. +I expect he is going to blow me up, and you will shield me," +said Fred, with some adroitness. + +Lydgate felt shame, but could not bear to act as if he felt it, +by refusing to see Mr. Farebrother; and he went down. They merely +shook hands, however, and spoke of the frost; and when all +three had turned into the street, the Vicar seemed quite willing +to say good-by to Lydgate. His present purpose was clearly +to talk with Fred alone, and he said, kindly, "I disturbed you, +young gentleman, because I have some pressing business with you. +Walk with me to St. Botolph's, will you?" + +It was a fine night, the sky thick with stars, and Mr. Farebrother +proposed that they should make a circuit to the old church +by the London road. The next thing he said was-- + +"I thought Lydgate never went to the Green Dragon?" + +"So did I," said Fred. "But he said that he went to see Bambridge." + +"He was not playing, then?" + +Fred had not meant to tell this, but he was obliged now to say, +"Yes, he was. But I suppose it was an accidental thing. I have +never seen him there before." + +"You have been going often yourself, then, lately?" + +"Oh, about five or six times." + +"I think you had some good reason for giving up the habit of going there?" + +"Yes. You know all about it," said Fred, not liking to be catechised +in this way. "I made a clean breast to you." + +"I suppose that gives me a warrant to speak about the matter now. +It is understood between us, is it not?--that we are on a footing +of open friendship: I have listened to you, and you will be +willing to listen to me. I may take my turn in talking a little +about myself?" + +"I am under the deepest obligation to you, Mr. Farebrother," +said Fred, in a state of uncomfortable surmise. + +"I will not affect to deny that you are under some obligation to me. +But I am going to confess to you, Fred, that I have been tempted +to reverse all that by keeping silence with you just now. +When somebody said to me, `Young Vincy has taken to being at the +billiard-table every night again--he won't bear the curb long;' +I was tempted to do the opposite of what I am doing--to hold my tongue +and wait while you went down the ladder again, betting first and then--" + +"I have not made any bets," said Fred, hastily. + +"Glad to hear it. But I say, my prompting was to look on and see +you take the wrong turning, wear out Garth's patience, and lose +the best opportunity of your life--the opportunity which you made +some rather difficult effort to secure. You can guess the feeling +which raised that temptation in me--I am sure you know it. +I am sure you know that the satisfaction of your affections stands +in the way of mine." + +There was a pause. Mr. Farebrother seemed to wait for a recognition +of the fact; and the emotion perceptible in the tones of his fine +voice gave solemnity to his words. But no feeling could quell +Fred's alarm. + +"I could not be expected to give her up," he said, after a +moment's hesitation: it was not a case for any pretence of generosity. + +"Clearly not, when her affection met yours. But relations of this sort, +even when they are of long standing, are always liable to change. +I can easily conceive that you might act in a way to loosen the tie +she feels towards you--it must be remembered that she is only +conditionally bound to you--and that in that ease, another man, +who may flatter himself that he has a hold on her regard, +might succeed in winning that firm place in her love as well +as respect which you had let slip. I can easily conceive such +a result," repeated Mr. Farebrother, emphatically. "There is +a companionship of ready sympathy, which might get the advantage +even over the longest associations." It seemed to Fred that if +Mr. Farebrother had had a beak and talons instead of his very +capable tongue, his mode of attack could hardly be more cruel. +He had a horrible conviction that behind all this hypothetic +statement there was a knowledge of some actual change in Mary's feeling. + +"Of course I know it might easily be all up with me," he said, +in a troubled voice. "If she is beginning to compare--" He broke off, +not liking to betray all he felt, and then said, by the help of a +little bitterness, "But I thought you were friendly to me." + +"So I am; that is why we are here. But I have had a strong disposition +to be otherwise. I have said to myself, `If there is a likelihood +of that youngster doing himself harm, why should you interfere? +Aren't you worth as much as he is, and don't your sixteen years +over and above his, in which you have gone rather hungry, give you +more right to satisfaction than he has? If there's a chance of his +going to the dogs, let him--perhaps you could nohow hinder it-- +and do you take the benefit.'" + +There was a pause, in which Fred was seized by a most uncomfortable +chill. What was coming next? He dreaded to hear that something +had been said to Mary--he felt as if he were listening to a +threat rather than a warning. When the Vicar began again there +was a change in his tone like the encouraging transition to a major key. + +"But I had once meant better than that, and I am come back to my +old intention. I thought that I could hardly SECURE MYSELF +in it better, Fred, than by telling you just what had gone on in me. +And now, do you understand me? want you to make the happiness of her +life and your own, and if there is any chance that a word of warning +from me may turn aside any risk to the contrary--well, I have uttered it." + +There was a drop in the Vicar's voice when he spoke the last words +He paused--they were standing on a patch of green where the road +diverged towards St. Botolph's, and he put out his hand, as if to +imply that the conversation was closed. Fred was moved quite newly. +Some one highly susceptible to the contemplation of a fine +act has said, that it produces a sort of regenerating shudder +through the frame, and makes one feel ready to begin a new life. +A good degree of that effect was just then present in Fred Vincy. + +"I will try to be worthy," he said, breaking off before he could +say "of you as well as of her." And meanwhile Mr. Farebrother +had gathered the impulse to say something more. + +"You must not imagine that I believe there is at present any +decline in her preference of you, Fred. Set your heart at rest, +that if you keep right, other things will keep right." + +"I shall never forget what you have done," Fred answered. +"I can't say anything that seems worth saying--only I will try +that your goodness shall not be thrown away." + +"That's enough. Good-by, and God bless you." + +In that way they parted. But both of them walked about a long +while before they went out of the starlight. Much of Fred's +rumination might be summed up in the words, "It certainly would +have been a fine thing for her to marry Farebrother--but if she +loves me best and I am a good husband?" + +Perhaps Mr. Farebrother's might be concentrated into a single shrug +and one little speech. "To think of the part one little woman can +play in the life of a man, so that to renounce her may be a very +good imitation of heroism, and to win her may be a discipline!" + +CHAPTER LXVII. + + Now is there civil war within the soul: + Resolve is thrust from off the sacred throne + By clamorous Needs, and Pride the grand-vizier + Makes humble compact, plays the supple part + Of envoy and deft-tongued apologist + For hungry rebels. + +Happily Lydgate had ended by losing in the billiard-room, and brought +away no encouragement to make a raid on luck. On the contrary, +he felt unmixed disgust with himself the next day when he had to +pay four or five pounds over and above his gains, and he carried +about with him a most unpleasant vision of the figure he had made, +not only rubbing elbows with the men at the Green Dragon but behaving +just as they did. A philosopher fallen to betting is hardly +distinguishable from a Philistine under the same circumstances: +the difference will chiefly be found in his subsequent reflections, +and Lydgate chewed a very disagreeable cud in that way. His reason +told him how the affair might have been magnified into ruin by a +slight change of scenery--if it had been a gambling-house that he +had turned into, where chance could be clutched with both hands +instead of being picked up with thumb and fore-finger. Nevertheless, +though reason strangled the desire to gamble, there remained +the feeling that, with an assurance of luck to the needful amount, +he would have liked to gamble, rather than take the alternative +which was beginning to urge itself as inevitable. + +That alternative was to apply to Mr. Bulstrode. Lydgate had +so many times boasted both to himself and others that he was +totally independent of Bulstrode, to whose plans he had lent +himself solely because they enabled him to carry out his own ideas +of professional work and public benefit--he had so constantly +in their personal intercourse had his pride sustained by the sense +that he was making a good social use of this predominating banker, +whose opinions he thought contemptible and whose motives often +seemed to him an absurd mixture of contradictory impressions-- +that he had been creating for himself strong ideal obstacles +to the proffering of any considerable request to him on his own account. + +Still, early in March his affairs were at that pass in which men begin +to say that their oaths were delivered in ignorance, and to perceive +that the act which they had called impossible to them is becoming +manifestly possible. With Dover's ugly security soon to be put +in force, with the proceeds of his practice immediately absorbed +in paying back debts, and with the chance, if the worst were known, +of daily supplies being refused on credit, above all with the +vision of Rosamond's hopeless discontent continually haunting him, +Lydgate had begun to see that he should inevitably bend himself to ask +help from somebody or other. At first he had considered whether he +should write to Mr. Vincy; but on questioning Rosamond he found that, +as he had suspected, she had already applied twice to her father, +the last time being since the disappointment from Sir Godwin; +and papa had said that Lydgate must look out for himself. "Papa said +he had come, with one bad year after another, to trade more and +more on borrowed capital, and had had to give up many indulgences; +he could not spare a single hundred from the charges of his family. +He said, let Lydgate ask Bulstrode: they have always been hand +and glove." + +Indeed, Lydgate himself had come to the conclusion that if he +must end by asking for a free loan, his relations with Bulstrode, +more at least than with any other man, might take the shape of a +claim which was not purely personal. Bulstrode had indirectly +helped to cause the failure of his practice, and had also been +highly gratified by getting a medical partner in his plans:-- +but who among us ever reduced himself to the sort of dependence +in which Lydgate now stood, without trying to believe that he had +claims which diminished the humiliation of asking? It was true +that of late there had seemed to be a new languor of interest +in Bulstrode about the Hospital; but his health had got worse, +and showed signs of a deep-seated nervous affection. In other respects +he did not appear to be changed: he had always been highly polite, +but Lydgate had observed in him from the first a marked coldness about +his marriage and other private circumstances, a coldness which he +had hitherto preferred to any warmth of familiarity between them. +He deferred the intention from day to day, his habit of acting on his +conclusions being made infirm by his repugnance to every possible +conclusion and its consequent act. He saw Mr. Bulstrode often, +but he did not try to use any occasion for his private purpose. +At one moment he thought, "I will write a letter: I prefer that to +any circuitous talk;" at another he thought, "No; if I were talking +to him, I could make a retreat before any signs of disinclination." + +Still the days passed and no letter was written, no special +interview sought. In his shrinking from the humiliation of a +dependent attitude towards Bulstrode, he began to familiarize his +imagination with another step even more unlike his remembered self. +He began spontaneously to consider whether it would be possible +to carry out that puerile notion of Rosamond's which had often made +him angry, namely, that they should quit Middlemarch without seeing +anything beyond that preface. The question came--"Would any man +buy the practice of me even now, for as little as it is worth? +Then the sale might happen as a necessary preparation for going away." + +But against his taking this step, which he still felt to be +a contemptible relinquishment of present work, a guilty turning +aside from what was a real and might be a widening channel for +worthy activity, to start again without any justified destination, +there was this obstacle, that the purchaser, if procurable at all, +might not be quickly forthcoming. And afterwards? Rosamond in +a poor lodging, though in the largest city or most distant town, +would not find the life that could save her from gloom, +and save him from the reproach of having plunged her into it. +For when a man is at the foot of the hill in his fortunes, he may +stay a long while there in spite of professional accomplishment. +In the British climate there is no incompatibility between scientific +insight and furnished lodgings: the incompatibility is chiefly +between scientific ambition and a wife who objects to that kind +of residence. + +But in the midst of his hesitation, opportunity came to decide him. +A note from Mr. Bulstrode requested Lydgate to call on him at +the Bank. A hypochondriacal tendency had shown itself in the +banker's constitution of late; and a lack of sleep, which was +really only a slight exaggeration of an habitual dyspeptic symptom, +had been dwelt on by him as a sign of threatening insanity. +He wanted to consult Lydgate without delay on that particular morning, +although he had nothing to tell beyond what he had told before. +He listened eagerly to what Lydgate had to say in dissipation +of his fears, though this too was only repetition; and this moment +in which Bulstrode was receiving a medical opinion with a sense +of comfort, seemed to make the communication of a personal need to +him easier than it had been in Lydgate's contemplation beforehand. +He had been insisting that it would be well for Mr. Bulstrode to relax +his attention to business. + +"One sees how any mental strain, however slight, may affect +a delicate frame," said Lydgate at that stage of the consultation +when the remarks tend to pass from the personal to the general, +"by the deep stamp which anxiety will make for a time even on +the young and vigorous. I am naturally very strong; yet I +have been thoroughly shaken lately by an accumulation of trouble." + +"I presume that a constitution in the susceptible state in which +mine at present is, would be especially liable to fall a victim +to cholera, if it visited our district. And since its appearance +near London, we may well besiege the Mercy-seat for our protection," +said Mr. Bulstrode, not intending to evade Lydgate's allusion, +but really preoccupied with alarms about himself. + +"You have at all events taken your share in using good practical +precautions for the town, and that is the best mode of asking +for protection," said Lydgate, with a strong distaste for +the broken metaphor and bad logic of the banker's religion, +somewhat increased by the apparent deafness of his sympathy. +But his mind had taken up its long-prepared movement towards +getting help, and was not yet arrested. He added, "The town +has done well in the way of cleansing, and finding appliances; +and I think that if the cholera should come, even our enemies +will admit that the arrangements in the Hospital are a public good." + +"Truly," said Mr. Bulstrode, with some coldness. "With regard to +what you say, Mr. Lydgate, about the relaxation of my mental labor, +I have for some time been entertaining a purpose to that effect-- +a purpose of a very decided character. I contemplate at least +a temporary withdrawal from the management of much business, +whether benevolent or commercial. Also I think of changing my residence +for a time: probably I shall close or let `The Shrubs,' and take +some place near the coast--under advice of course as to salubrity. +That would be a measure which you would recommend?" + +"Oh yes," said Lydgate, falling backward in his chair, +with ill-repressed impatience under the banker's pale earnest +eyes and intense preoccupation with himself. + +"I have for some time felt that I should open this subject with you in +relation to our Hospital," continued Bulstrode. "Under the circumstances +I have indicated, of course I must cease to have any personal share +in the management, and it is contrary to my views of responsibility +to continue a large application of means to an institution which I +cannot watch over and to some extent regulate. I shall therefore, +in case of my ultimate decision to leave Middlemarch, consider that I +withdraw other support to the New Hospital than that which will subsist +in the fact that I chiefly supplied the expenses of building it, +and have contributed further large sums to its successful working." + +Lydgate's thought, when Bulstrode paused according to his wont, +was, "He has perhaps been losing a good deal of money." +This was the most plausible explanation of a speech which had caused +rather a startling change in his expectations. He said in reply-- + +"The loss to the Hospital can hardly be made up, I fear." + +"Hardly," returned Bulstrode, in the same deliberate, silvery tone; +"except by some changes of plan. The only person who may be certainly +counted on as willing to increase her contributions is Mrs. Casaubon. +I have had an interview with her on the subject, and I have pointed +out to her, as I am about to do to you, that it will be desirable to win +a more general support to the New Hospital by a change of system." +Another pause, but Lydgate did not speak. + +"The change I mean is an amalgamation with the Infirmary, +so that the New Hospital shall be regarded as a special addition +to the elder institution, having the same directing board. +It will be necessary, also, that the medical management of the +two shall be combined. In this way any difficulty as to the +adequate maintenance of our new establishment will be removed; +the benevolent interests of the town will cease to be divided." + +Mr. Bulstrode had lowered his eyes from Lydgate's face to the buttons +of his coat as he again paused. + +"No doubt that is a good device as to ways and means," said Lydgate, +with an edge of irony in his tone. "But I can't be expected +to rejoice in it at once, since one of the first results will be +that the other medical men will upset or interrupt my methods, +if it were only because they are mine." + +"I myself, as you know, Mr. Lydgate, highly valued the opportunity +of new and independent procedure which you have diligently employed: +the original plan, I confess, was one which I had much at heart, +under submission to the Divine Will. But since providential +indications demand a renunciation from me, I renounce." + +Bulstrode showed a rather exasperating ability in this conversation. +The broken metaphor and bad logic of motive which had stirred +his hearer's contempt were quite consistent with a mode of putting +the facts which made it difficult for Lydgate to vent his own +indignation and disappointment. After some rapid reflection, +he only asked-- + +"What did Mrs. Casaubon say?" + +"That was the further statement which I wished to make to you," +said Bulstrode, who had thoroughly prepared his ministerial explanation. +"She is, you are aware, a woman of most munificent disposition, +and happily in possession--not I presume of great wealth, but of +funds which she can well spare. She has informed me that though +she has destined the chief part of those funds to another purpose, +she is willing to consider whether she cannot fully take my place +in relation to the Hospital. But she wishes for ample time to mature +her thoughts on the subject, and I have told her that there is no need +for haste--that, in fact, my own plans are not yet absolute." + +Lydgate was ready to say, "If Mrs. Casaubon would take your place, +there would be gain, instead of loss." But there was still +a weight on his mind which arrested this cheerful candor. +He replied, "I suppose, then, that I may enter into the subject +with Mrs. Casaubon." + +"Precisely; that is what she expressly desires. Her decision, +she says, will much depend on what you can tell her. But not +at present: she is, I believe, just setting out on a journey. +I have her letter here," said Mr. Bulstrode, drawing it out, +and reading from it. "`I am immediately otherwise engaged,' she says. +`I am going into Yorkshire with Sir James and Lady Chettam; and the +conclusions I come to about some land which I am to see there may +affect my power of contributing to the Hospital.' Thus, Mr. Lydgate, +there is no haste necessary in this matter; but I wished to apprise +you beforehand of what may possibly occur." + +Mr. Bulstrode returned the letter to his side-pocket, and changed +his attitude as if his business were closed. Lydgate, whose renewed +hope about the Hospital only made him more conscious of the facts +which poisoned his hope, felt that his effort after help, if made +at all, must be made now and vigorously. + +"I am much obliged to you for giving me full notice," he said, +with a firm intention in his tone, yet with an interruptedness in +his delivery which showed that he spoke unwillingly. "The highest +object to me is my profession, and I had identified the Hospital with +the best use I can at present make of my profession. But the best +use is not always the same with monetary success. Everything which +has made the Hospital unpopular has helped with other causes-- +I think they are all connected with my professional zeal--to make me +unpopular as a practitioner. I get chiefly patients who can't pay me. +I should like them best, if I had nobody to pay on my own side." +Lydgate waited a little, but Bulstrode only bowed, looking at +him fixedly, and he went on with the same interrupted enunciation-- +as if he were biting an objectional leek. + +"I have slipped into money difficulties which I can see no way out of, +unless some one who trusts me and my future will advance me a sum +without other security. I had very little fortune left when I +came here. I have no prospects of money from my own family. +My expenses, in consequence of my marriage, have been very much +greater than I had expected. The result at this moment is that it +would take a thousand pounds to clear me. I mean, to free me from +the risk of having all my goods sold in security of my largest debt-- +as well as to pay my other debts--and leave anything to keep us +a little beforehand with our small income. I find that it is out +of the question that my wife's father should make such an advance. +That is why I mention my position to--to the only other man who +may be held to have some personal connection with my prosperity +or ruin." + +Lydgate hated to hear himself. But he had spoken now, and had spoken +with unmistakable directness. Mr. Bulstrode replied without haste, +but also without hesitation. + +"I am grieved, though, I confess, not surprised by this information, +Mr. Lydgate. For my own part, I regretted your alliance with my +brother-in-law's family, which has always been of prodigal habits, +and which has already been much indebted to me for sustainment +in its present position. My advice to you, Mr. Lydgate, would be, +that instead of involving yourself in further obligations, +and continuing a doubtful struggle, you should simply become +a bankrupt." + +"That would not improve my prospect," said Lydgate, rising and +speaking bitterly, "even if it were a more agreeable thing in itself." + +"It is always a trial," said Mr. Bulstrode; "but trial, my dear sir, +is our portion here, and is a needed corrective. I recommend you +to weigh the advice I have given." + +"Thank you," said Lydgate, not quite knowing what he said. +"I have occupied you too long. Good-day." + +CHAPTER LXVIII. + + "What suit of grace hath Virtue to put on + If Vice shall wear as good, and do as well? + If Wrong, if Craft, if Indiscretion + Act as fair parts with ends as laudable? + Which all this mighty volume of events + The world, the universal map of deeds, + Strongly controls, and proves from all descents, + That the directest course still best succeeds. + For should not grave and learn'd Experience + That looks with the eyes of all the world beside, + And with all ages holds intelligence, + Go safer than Deceit without a guide! + --DANIEL: Musophilus. + +That change of plan and shifting of interest which Bulstrode stated +or betrayed in his conversation with Lydgate, had been determined in him +by some severe experience which he had gone through since the epoch +of Mr. Larcher's sale, when Raffles had recognized Will Ladislaw, +and when the banker had in vain attempted an act of restitution +which might move Divine Providence to arrest painful consequences. + +His certainty that Raffles, unless he were dead, would return to +Middlemarch before long, had been justified. On Christmas Eve he +had reappeared at The Shrubs. Bulstrode was at home to receive him, +and hinder his communication with the rest of the family, but he +could not altogether hinder the circumstances of the visit from +compromising himself and alarming his wife. Raffles proved more +unmanageable than he had shown himself to be in his former appearances, +his chronic state of mental restlessness, the growing effect +of habitual intemperance, quickly shaking off every impression +from what was said to him. He insisted on staying in the house, +and Bulstrode, weighing two sets of evils, felt that this was +at least not a worse alternative than his going into the town. +He kept him in his own room for the evening and saw him to bed, +Raffles all the while amusing himself with the annoyance he was +causing this decent and highly prosperous fellow-sinner, an amusement +which he facetiously expressed as sympathy with his friend's pleasure +in entertaining a man who had been serviceable to him, and who had +not had all his earnings. There was a cunning calculation under this +noisy joking--a cool resolve to extract something the handsomer +from Bulstrode as payment for release from this new application +of torture. But his cunning had a little overcast its mark. + +Bulstrode was indeed more tortured than the coarse fibre of Raffles could +enable him to imagine. He had told his wife that he was simply taking +care of this wretched creature, the victim of vice, who might otherwise +injure himself; he implied, without the direct form of falsehood, +that there was a family tie which bound him to this care, and that +there were signs of mental alienation in Raffles which urged caution. +He would himself drive the unfortunate being away the next morning. +In these hints he felt that he was supplying Mrs. Bulstrode +with precautionary information for his daughters and servants, +and accounting for his allowing no one but himself to enter the room +even with food and drink. But he sat in an agony of fear lest Raffles +should be overheard in his loud and plain references to past facts-- +lest Mrs. Bulstrode should be even tempted to listen at the door. +How could he hinder her, how betray his terror by opening the door +to detect her? She was a woman of honest direct habits, and little +likely to take so low a course in order to arrive at painful knowledge; +but fear was stronger than the calculation of probabilities. + +In this way Raffles had pushed the torture too far, and produced +an effect which had not been in his plan. By showing himself +hopelessly unmanageable he had made Bulstrode feel that a strong +defiance was the only resource left. After taking Raffles to bed +that night the banker ordered his closed carriage to be ready at +half-past seven the next morning. At six o'clock he had already +been long dressed, and had spent some of his wretchedness in prayer, +pleading his motives for averting the worst evil if in anything he had +used falsity and spoken what was not true before God. For Bulstrode +shrank from a direct lie with an intensity disproportionate to the +number of his more indirect misdeeds. But many of these misdeeds +were like the subtle muscular movements which are not taken account +of in the consciousness, though they bring about the end that we +fix our mind on and desire. And it is only what we are vividly +conscious of that we can vividly imagine to be seen by Omniscience. + +Bulstrode carried his candle to the bedside of Raffles, who was +apparently in a painful dream. He stood silent, hoping that the presence +of the light would serve to waken the sleeper gradually and gently, +for he feared some noise as the consequence of a too sudden awakening. +He had watched for a couple of minutes or more the shudderings +and pantings which seemed likely to end in waking, when Raffles, +with a long half-stifled moan, started up and stared round him +in terror, trembling and gasping. But he made no further noise, +and Bulstrode, setting down the candle, awaited his recovery. + +It was a quarter of an hour later before Bulstrode, with a cold +peremptoriness of manner which he had not before shown, said, "I came +to call you thus early, Mr. Raffles, because I have ordered the carriage +to be ready at half-past seven, and intend myself to conduct you as far +as Ilsely, where you can either take the railway or await a coach." +Raffles was about to speak, but Bulstrode anticipated him imperiously +with the words, "Be silent, sir, and hear what I have to say. +I shall supply you with money now, and I will furnish you with a +reasonable sum from time to time, on your application to me by letter; +but if you choose to present yourself here again, if you return +to Middlemarch, if you use your tongue in a manner injurious to me, +you will have to live on such fruits as your malice can bring you, +without help from me. Nobody will pay you well for blasting my name: +I know the worst you can do against me, and I shall brave it if you +dare to thrust yourself upon me again. Get up, sir, and do as I +order you, without noise, or I will send for a policeman to take +you off my premises, and you may carry your stories into every +pothouse in the town, but you shall have no sixpence from me to pay +your expenses there." + +Bulstrode had rarely in his life spoken with such nervous energy: +he had been deliberating on this speech and its probable effects +through a large part of the night; and though he did not trust to its +ultimately saving him from any return of Raffles, he had concluded +that it was the best throw he could make. It succeeded in enforcing +submission from the jaded man this morning: his empoisoned system +at this moment quailed before Bulstrode's cold, resolute bearing, +and he was taken off quietly in the carriage before the family +breakfast time. The servants imagined him to be a poor relation, +and were not surprised that a strict man like their master, who held +his head high in the world, should be ashamed of such a cousin +and want to get rid of him. The banker's drive of ten miles with +his hated companion was a dreary beginning of the Christmas day; +but at the end of the drive, Raffles had recovered his spirits, +and parted in a contentment for which there was the good reason +that the banker had given him a hundred pounds. Various motives +urged Bulstrode to this open-handedness, but he did not himself +inquire closely into all of them. As he had stood watching Raffles +in his uneasy sleep, it had certainly entered his mind that the man +had been much shattered since the first gift of two hundred pounds. + +He had taken care to repeat the incisive statement of his resolve +not to be played on any more; and had tried to penetrate Raffles +with the fact that he had shown the risks of bribing him to be +quite equal to the risks of defying him. But when, freed from his +repulsive presence, Bulstrode returned to his quiet home, he brought +with him no confidence that he had secured more than a respite. +It was as if he had had a loathsome dream, and could not shake off +its images with their hateful kindred of sensations--as if on all +the pleasant surroundings of his life a dangerous reptile had left +his slimy traces. + +Who can know how much of his most inward life is made up of the +thoughts he believes other men to have about him, until that fabric +of opinion is threatened with ruin? + +Bulstrode was only the more conscious that there was a deposit +of uneasy presentiment in his wife's mind, because she carefully +avoided any allusion to it. He had been used every day to taste +the flavor of supremacy and the tribute of complete deference: +and the certainty that he was watched or measured with a hidden +suspicion of his having some discreditable secret, made his voice +totter when he was speaking to edification. Foreseeing, to men +of Bulstrode's anxious temperament, is often worse than seeing; +and his imagination continually heightened the anguish of an +imminent disgrace. Yes, imminent; for if his defiance of Raffles +did not keep the man away--and though he prayed for this result he +hardly hoped for it--the disgrace was certain. In vain he said +to himself that, if permitted, it would be a divine visitation, +a chastisement, a preparation; he recoiled from the imagined burning; +and he judged that it must be more for the Divine glory that he +should escape dishonor. That recoil had at last urged him to make +preparations for quitting Middlemarch. If evil truth must be reported +of him, he would then be at a less scorching distance from the +contempt of his old neighbors; and in a new scene, where his life +would not have gathered the same wide sensibility, the tormentor, +if he pursued him, would be less formidable. To leave the place +finally would, he knew, be extremely painful to his wife, and on other +grounds he would have preferred to stay where he had struck root. +Hence he made his preparations at first in a conditional way, +wishing to leave on all sides an opening for his return after +brief absence, if any favorable intervention of Providence should +dissipate his fears. He was preparing to transfer his management +of the Bank, and to give up any active control of other commercial +affairs in the neighborhood, on the ground of his failing health, +but without excluding his future resumption of such work. The measure +would cause him some added expense and some diminution of income beyond +what he had already undergone from the general depression of trade; +and the Hospital presented itself as a principal object of outlay +on which he could fairly economize. + +This was the experience which had determined his conversation +with Lydgate. But at this time his arrangements had most of them +gone no farther than a stage at which he could recall them if they +proved to be unnecessary. He continually deferred the final steps; +in the midst of his fears, like many a man who is in danger of +shipwreck or of being dashed from his carriage by runaway horses, +he had a clinging impression that something would happen to hinder +the worst, and that to spoil his life by a late transplantation +might be over-hasty--especially since it was difficult to account +satisfactorily to his wife for the project of their indefinite exile +from the only place where she would like to live. + +Among the affairs Bulstrode had to care for, was the management +of the farm at Stone Court in case of his absence; and on this +as well as on all other matters connected with any houses and land +he possessed in or about Middlemarch, he had consulted Caleb Garth. +Like every one else who had business of that sort, he wanted to get the +agent who was more anxious for his employer's interests than his own. +With regard to Stone Court, since Bulstrode wished to retain his hold +on the stock, and to have an arrangement by which he himself could, +if he chose, resume his favorite recreation of superintendence, +Caleb had advised him not to trust to a mere bailiff, but to let +the land, stock, and implements yearly, and take a proportionate +share of the proceeds. + +"May I trust to you to find me a tenant on these terms, Mr. Garth?" +said Bulstrode. "And will you mention to me the yearly sum +which would repay you for managing these affairs which we have +discussed together?" + +"I'll think about it," said Caleb, in his blunt way. "I'll see +how I can make it out." + +If it had not been that he had to consider Fred Vincy's future, +Mr. Garth would not probably have been glad of any addition to his work, +of which his wife was always fearing an excess for him as he grew older. +But on quitting Bulstrode after that conversation, a very alluring +idea occurred to him about this said letting of Stone Court. +What if Bulstrode would agree to his placing Fred Vincy there +on the understanding that he, Caleb Garth, should be responsible +for the management? It would be an excellent schooling for Fred; +he might make a modest income there, and still have time left to get +knowledge by helping in other business. He mentioned his notion +to Mrs. Garth with such evident delight that she could not bear +to chill his pleasure by expressing her constant fear of his +undertaking too much. + +"The lad would be as happy as two," he said, throwing himself +back in his chair, and looking radiant, "if I could tell him it +was all settled. Think; Susan! His mind had been running on +that place for years before old Featherstone died. And it would +be as pretty a turn of things as could be that he should hold +the place in a good industrious way after all--by his taking +to business. For it's likely enough Bulstrode might let him go on, +and gradually buy the stock. He hasn't made up his mind, I can see, +whether or not he shall settle somewhere else as a lasting thing. +I never was better pleased with a notion in my life. And then +the children might be married by-and-by, Susan." + +"You will not give any hint of the plan to Fred, until you are +sure that Bulstrode would agree to the plan?" said Mrs. Garth, +in a tone of gentle caution. "And as to marriage, Caleb, we old +people need not help to hasten it." + +"Oh, I don't know," said Caleb, swinging his head aside. +"Marriage is a taming thing. Fred would want less of my bit +and bridle. However, I shall say nothing till I know the ground +I'm treading on. I shall speak to Bulstrode again." + +He took his earliest opportunity of doing so. Bulstrode had anything +but a warm interest in his nephew Fred Vincy, but he had a strong +wish to secure Mr. Garth's services on many scattered points of +business at which he was sure to be a considerable loser, if they +were under less conscientious management. On that ground he made +no objection to Mr. Garth's proposal; and there was also another +reason why he was not sorry to give a consent which was to benefit +one of the Vincy family. It was that Mrs. Bulstrode, having heard +of Lydgate's debts, had been anxious to know whether her husband could +not do something for poor Rosamond, and had been much troubled on +learning from him that Lydgate's affairs were not easily remediable, +and that the wisest plan was to let them "take their course." +Mrs. Bulstrode had then said for the first time, "I think you are +always a little hard towards my family, Nicholas. And I am sure I +have no reason to deny any of my relatives. Too worldly they may be, +but no one ever had to say that they were not respectable." + +"My dear Harriet," said Mr. Bulstrode, wincing under his wife's eyes, +which were filling with tears, "I have supplied your brother +with a great deal of capital. I cannot be expected to take care +of his married children." + +That seemed to be true, and Mrs. Bulstrode's remonstrance subsided +into pity for poor Rosamond, whose extravagant education she had +always foreseen the fruits of. + +But remembering that dialogue, Mr. Bulstrode felt that when he had +to talk to his wife fully about his plan of quitting Middlemarch, +he should be glad to tell her that he had made an arrangement +which might be for the good of her nephew Fred. At present he had +merely mentioned to her that he thought of shutting up The Shrubs +for a few months, and taking a house on the Southern Coast. + +Hence Mr. Garth got the assurance he desired, namely, that in case +of Bulstrode's departure from Middlemarch for an indefinite time, +Fred Vincy should be allowed to have the tenancy of Stone Court on +the terms proposed. + +Caleb was so elated with his hope of this "neat turn" being given +to things, that if his self-control had not been braced by a little +affectionate wifely scolding, he would have betrayed everything to Mary, +wanting "to give the child comfort." However, he restrained himself, +and kept in strict privacy from Fred certain visits which he +was making to Stone Court, in order to look more thoroughly into +the state of the land and stock, and take a preliminary estimate. +He was certainly more eager in these visits than the probable speed +of events required him to be; but he was stimulated by a fatherly +delight in occupying his mind with this bit of probable happiness +which he held in store like a hidden birthday gift for Fred and Mary. + +"But suppose the whole scheme should turn out to be a castle +in the air?" said Mrs. Garth. + +"Well, well," replied Caleb; "the castle will tumble about nobody's head." + +CHAPTER LXIX. + + "If thou hast heard a word, let it die with thee." + --Ecclesiasticus. + +Mr. Bulstrode was still seated in his manager's room at the Bank, +about three o'clock of the same day on which he had received Lydgate +there, when the clerk entered to say that his horse was waiting, +and also that Mr. Garth was outside and begged to speak with him. + +"By all means," said Bulstrode; and Caleb entered. "Pray sit down, +Mr. Garth," continued the banker, in his suavest tone. + +"I am glad that you arrived just in time to find me here. +I know you count your minutes." + +"Oh," said Caleb, gently, with a slow swing of his head on one side, +as he seated himself and laid his hat on the floor. + +He looked at the ground, leaning forward and letting his long fingers +droop between his legs, while each finger moved in succession, +as if it were sharing some thought which filled his large quiet brow. + +Mr. Bulstrode, like every one else who knew Caleb, was used +to his slowness in beginning to speak on any topic which he felt +to be important, and rather expected that he was about to recur +to the buying of some houses in Blindman's Court, for the sake +of pulling them down, as a sacrifice of property which would be +well repaid by the influx of air and light on that spot. It was +by propositions of this kind that Caleb was sometimes troublesome +to his employers; but he had usually found Bulstrode ready to meet +him in projects of improvement, and they had got on well together. +When he spoke again, however, it was to say, in rather a subdued voice-- + +"I have just come away from Stone Court, Mr. Bulstrode." + +"You found nothing wrong there, I hope," said the banker; "I was +there myself yesterday. Abel has done well with the lambs this year." + +"Why, yes," said Caleb, looking up gravely, "there is something wrong-- +a stranger, who is very ill, I think. He wants a doctor, and I came +to tell you of that. His name is Raffles." + +He saw the shock of his words passing through Bulstrode's frame. +On this subject the banker had thought that his fears were too constantly +on the watch to be taken by surprise; but he had been mistaken. + +"Poor wretch!" he said in a compassionate tone, though his lips +trembled a little. "Do you know how he came there?" + +"I took him myself," said Caleb, quietly--"took him up in my gig. +He had got down from the coach, and was walking a little +beyond the turning from the toll-house, and I overtook him. +He remembered seeing me with you once before, at Stone Court, +and he asked me to take him on. I saw he was ill: it seemed +to me the right thing to do, to carry him under shelter. +And now I think you should lose no time in getting advice for him." +Caleb took up his hat from the floor as he ended, and rose slowly +from his seat. + +"Certainly," said Bulstrode, whose mind was very active at this moment. +"Perhaps you will yourself oblige me, Mr. Garth, by calling at +Mr. Lydgate's as you pass--or stay! he may at this hour probably +be at the Hospital. I will first send my man on the horse there +with a note this instant, and then I will myself ride to Stone Court." + +Bulstrode quickly wrote a note, and went out himself to give +the commission to his man. When he returned, Caleb was standing +as before with one hand on the back of the chair, holding his hat +with the other. In Bulstrode's mind the dominant thought was, +"Perhaps Raffles only spoke to Garth of his illness. Garth may wonder, +as he must have done before, at this disreputable fellow's claiming +intimacy with me; but he will know nothing. And he is friendly to me-- +I can be of use to him." + +He longed for some confirmation of this hopeful conjecture, +but to have asked any question as to what Raffles had said or done +would have been to betray fear. + +"I am exceedingly obliged to you, Mr. Garth," he said, in his usual +tone of politeness. "My servant will be back in a few minutes, +and I shall then go myself to see what can be done for this +unfortunate man. Perhaps you had some other business with me? +If so, pray be seated." + +"Thank you," said Caleb, making a slight gesture with his right +hand to waive the invitation. "I wish to say, Mr. Bulstrode, +that I must request you to put your business into some other hands +than mine. I am obliged to you for your handsome way of meeting me-- +about the letting of Stone Court, and all other business. +But I must give it up." A sharp certainty entered like a stab into +Bulstrode's soul. + +"This is sudden, Mr. Garth," was all he could say at first. + +"It is," said Caleb; "but it is quite fixed. I must give it up." + +He spoke with a firmness which was very gentle, and yet he could see +that Bulstrode seemed to cower under that gentleness, his face looking +dried and his eyes swerving away from the glance which rested on him. +Caleb felt a deep pity for him, but he could have used no pretexts +to account for his resolve, even if they would have been of any use. + +"You have been led to this, I apprehend, by some slanders +concerning me uttered by that unhappy creature," said Bulstrode, +anxious now to know the utmost. + +"That is true. I can't deny that I act upon what I heard from him." + +"You are a conscientious man, Mr. Garth--a man, I trust, +who feels himself accountable to God. You would not wish to injure +me by being too ready to believe a slander," said Bulstrode, +casting about for pleas that might be adapted to his hearer's mind. +"That is a poor reason for giving up a connection which I think +I may say will be mutually beneficial." + +"I would injure no man if I could help it," said Caleb; "even if I +thought God winked at it. I hope I should have a feeling for my +fellow-creature. But, sir--I am obliged to believe that this Raffles +has told me the truth. And I can't be happy in working with you, +or profiting by you. It hurts my mind. I must beg you to seek +another agent." + +"Very well, Mr. Garth. But I must at least claim to know the worst +that he has told you. I must know what is the foul speech that I +am liable to be the victim of," said Bulstrode, a certain amount +of anger beginning to mingle with his humiliation before this quiet +man who renounced his benefits. + +"That's needless," said Caleb, waving his hand, bowing his head slightly, +and not swerving from the tone which had in it the merciful intention +to spare this pitiable man. "What he has said to me will never +pass from my lips, unless something now unknown forces it from me. +If you led a harmful life for gain, and kept others out of their +rights by deceit, to get the more for yourself, I dare say you repent-- +you would like to go back, and can't: that must be a bitter thing"-- +Caleb paused a moment and shook his head--"it is not for me to make +your life harder to you." + +"But you do--you do make it harder to me," said Bulstrode constrained +into a genuine, pleading cry. "You make it harder to me by turning +your back on me." + +"That I'm forced to do," said Caleb, still more gently, lifting up +his hand. "I am sorry. I don't judge you and say, he is wicked, +and I am righteous. God forbid. I don't know everything. A man +may do wrong, and his will may rise clear out of it, though he can't +get his life clear. That's a bad punishment. If it is so with you,-- +well, I'm very sorry for you. But I have that feeling inside me, +that I can't go on working with you. That's all, Mr. Bulstrode. +Everything else is buried, so far as my will goes. And I wish +you good-day." + +"One moment, Mr. Garth!" said Bulstrode, hurriedly. "I may trust +then to your solemn assurance that you will not repeat either +to man or woman what--even if it have any degree of truth in it-- +is yet a malicious representation?" Caleb's wrath was stirred, +and he said, indignantly-- + +"Why should I have said it if I didn't mean it? I am in no fear +of you. Such tales as that will never tempt my tongue." + +"Excuse me--I am agitated--I am the victim of this abandoned man." + +"Stop a bit! you have got to consider whether you didn't help +to make him worse, when you profited by his vices." + +"You are wronging me by too readily believing him," said Bulstrode, +oppressed, as by a nightmare, with the inability to deny flatly +what Raffles might have said; and yet feeling it an escape +that Caleb had not so stated it to him as to ask for that flat denial. + +"No," said Caleb, lifting his hand deprecatingly; "I am ready to +believe better, when better is proved. I rob you of no good chance. +As to speaking, I hold it a crime to expose a man's sin unless +I'm clear it must be done to save the innocent. That is my way +of thinking, Mr. Bulstrode, and what I say, I've no need to swear. +I wish you good-day." + +Some hours later, when he was at home, Caleb said to his wife, +incidentally, that he had had some little differences with Bulstrode, +and that in consequence, he had given up all notion of taking +Stone Court, and indeed had resigned doing further business for him. + +"He was disposed to interfere too much, was he?" said Mrs. Garth, +imagining that her husband had been touched on his sensitive point, +and not been allowed to do what he thought right as to materials +and modes of work. + +"Oh," said Caleb, bowing his head and waving his hand gravely. +And Mrs. Garth knew that this was a sign of his not intending to speak +further on the subject. + +As for Bulstrode, he had almost immediately mounted his horse and set +off for Stone Court, being anxious to arrive there before Lydgate. + +His mind was crowded with images and conjectures, which were a language +to his hopes and fears, just as we hear tones from the vibrations +which shake our whole system. The deep humiliation with which he +had winced under Caleb Garth's knowledge of his past and rejection +of his patronage, alternated with and almost gave way to the sense +of safety in the fact that Garth, and no other, had been the man +to whom Raffles had spoken. It seemed to him a sort of earnest +that Providence intended his rescue from worse consequences; +the way being thus left open for the hope of secrecy. That Raffles +should be afflicted with illness, that he should have been led +to Stone Court rather than elsewhere--Bulstrode's heart fluttered +at the vision of probabilities which these events conjured up. +If it should turn out that he was freed from all danger of disgrace-- +if he could breathe in perfect liberty--his life should be more +consecrated than it had ever been before. He mentally lifted +up this vow as if it would urge the result he longed for-- +he tried to believe in the potency of that prayerful resolution-- +its potency to determine death. He knew that he ought to say, +"Thy will be done;" and he said it often. But the intense desire +remained that the will of God might be the death of that hated man. + +Yet when he arrived at Stone Court he could not see the change +in Raffles without a shock. But for his pallor and feebleness, +Bulstrode would have called the change in him entirely mental. +Instead of his loud tormenting mood, he showed an intense, vague terror, +and seemed to deprecate Bulstrode's anger, because the money was +all gone--he had been robbed--it had half of it been taken from him. +He had only come here because he was ill and somebody was hunting him-- +somebody was after him he had told nobody anything, he had kept +his mouth shut. Bulstrode, not knowing the significance of +these symptoms, interpreted this new nervous susceptibility into +a means of alarming Raffles into true confessions, and taxed him +with falsehood in saying that he had not told anything, since he +had just told the man who took him up in his gig and brought him +to Stone Court. Raffles denied this with solemn adjurations; +the fact being that the links of consciousness were interrupted in him, +and that his minute terror-stricken narrative to Caleb Garth had been +delivered under a set of visionary impulses which had dropped back +into darkness. + +Bulstrode's heart sank again at this sign that he could get no +grasp over the wretched man's mind, and that no word of Raffles +could be trusted as to the fact which he most wanted to know, +namely, whether or not he had really kept silence to every one in +the neighborhood except Caleb Garth. The housekeeper had told him +without the least constraint of manner that since Mr. Garth left, +Raffles had asked her for beer, and after that had not spoken, +seeming very ill. On that side it might be concluded that there +had been no betrayal. Mrs. Abel thought, like the servants at +The Shrubs, that the strange man belonged to the unpleasant "kin" +who are among the troubles of the rich; she had at first referred +the kinship to Mr. Rigg, and where there was property left, +the buzzing presence of such large blue-bottles seemed natural enough. +How he could be "kin" to Bulstrode as well was not so clear, +but Mrs. Abel agreed with her husband that there was "no knowing," +a proposition which had a great deal of mental food for her, +so that she shook her head over it without further speculation. + +In less than an hour Lydgate arrived. Bulstrode met him outside +the wainscoted parlor, where Raffles was, and said-- + +"I have called you in, Mr. Lydgate, to an unfortunate man who was once +in my employment, many years ago. Afterwards he went to America, +and returned I fear to an idle dissolute life. Being destitute, +he has a claim on me. He was slightly connected with Rigg, +the former owner of this place, and in consequence found his way here. +I believe he is seriously ill: apparently his mind is affected. +I feel bound to do the utmost for him." + +Lydgate, who had the remembrance of his last conversation with +Bulstrode strongly upon him, was not disposed to say an unnecessary +word to him, and bowed slightly in answer to this account; +but just before entering the room he turned automatically +and said, "What is his name?"--to know names being as much a part +of the medical man's accomplishment as of the practical politician's. + +"Raffles, John Raffles," said Bulstrode, who hoped that whatever +became of Raffles, Lydgate would never know any more of him. + +When he had thoroughly examined and considered the patient, Lydgate +ordered that he should go to bed, and be kept there in as complete +quiet as possible, and then went with Bulstrode into another room. + +"It is a serious case, I apprehend," said the banker, before Lydgate +began to speak. + +"No--and yes," said Lydgate, half dubiously. "It is difficult +to decide as to the possible effect of long-standing complications; +but the man had a robust constitution to begin with. I should not +expect this attack to be fatal, though of course the system is +in a ticklish state. He should be well watched and attended to." + +"I will remain here myself," said Bulstrode. "Mrs. Abel and her +husband are inexperienced. I can easily remain here for the night, +if you will oblige me by taking a note for Mrs. Bulstrode." + +"I should think that is hardly necessary," said Lydgate. "He seems +tame and terrified enough. He might become more unmanageable. +But there is a man here--is there not?" + +"I have more than once stayed here a few nights for the sake +of seclusion," said Bulstrode, indifferently; "I am quite disposed +to do so now. Mrs. Abel and her husband can relieve or aid me, +if necessary." + +"Very well. Then I need give my directions only to you," said Lydgate, +not feeling surprised at a little peculiarity in Bulstrode. + +"You think, then, that the case is hopeful?" said Bulstrode, +when Lydgate had ended giving his orders. + +"Unless there turn out to be further complications, such as I +have not at present detected--yes," said Lydgate. "He may pass +on to a worse stage; but I should not wonder if ho got better +in a few days, by adhering to the treatment I have prescribed. +There must be firmness. Remember, if he calls for liquors of any sort, +not to give them to him. In my opinion, men in his condition are +oftener killed by treatment than by the disease. Still, new symptoms +may arise. I shall come again to-morrow morning." + +After waiting for the note to be carried to Mrs. Bulstrode, +Lydgate rode away, forming no conjectures, in the first instance, +about the history of Raffles, but rehearsing the whole argument, +which had lately been much stirred by the publication of Dr. Ware's +abundant experience in America, as to the right way of treating +cases of alcoholic poisoning such as this. Lydgate, when abroad, +had already been interested in this question: he was strongly +convinced against the prevalent practice of allowing alcohol +and persistently administering large doses of opium; and he had +repeatedly acted on this conviction with a favorable result. + +"The man is in a diseased state," he thought, "but there's a good deal +of wear in him still. I suppose he is an object of charity to Bulstrode. +It is curious what patches of hardness and tenderness lie side by +side in men's dispositions. Bulstrode seems the most unsympathetic +fellow I ever saw about some people, and yet he has taken no end +of trouble, and spent a great deal of money, on benevolent objects. +I suppose he has some test by which he finds out whom Heaven +cares for--he has made up his mind that it doesn't care for me." + +This streak of bitterness came from a plenteous source, and kept +widening in the current of his thought as he neared Lowick Gate. +He had not been there since his first interview with Bulstrode +in the morning, having been found at the Hospital by the banker's +messenger; and for the first time he was returning to his home +without the vision of any expedient in the background which left +him a hope of raising money enough to deliver him from the coming +destitution of everything which made his married life tolerable-- +everything which saved him and Rosamond from that bare isolation +in which they would be forced to recognize how little of a comfort +they could be to each other. It was more bearable to do without +tenderness for himself than to see that his own tenderness could +make no amends for the lack of other things to her. The sufferings +of his own pride from humiliations past and to come were keen enough, +yet they were hardly distinguishable to himself from that more acute +pain which dominated them--the pain of foreseeing that Rosamond +would come to regard him chiefly as the cause of disappointment and +unhappiness to her. He had never liked the makeshifts of poverty, +and they had never before entered into his prospects for himself; +but he was beginning now to imagine how two creatures who loved +each other, and had a stock of thoughts in common, might laugh +over their shabby furniture, and their calculations how far they +could afford butter and eggs. But the glimpse of that poetry +seemed as far off from him as the carelessness of the golden age; +in poor Rosamond's mind there was not room enough for luxuries to look +small in. He got down from his horse in a very sad mood, and went +into the house, not expecting to be cheered except by his dinner, +and reflecting that before the evening closed it would be wise +to tell Rosamond of his application to Bulstrode and its failure. +It would be well not to lose time in preparing her for the worst. + +But his dinner waited long for him before he was able to eat it. +For on entering he found that Dover's agent had already put a man +in the house, and when he asked where Mrs. Lydgate was, he was told +that she was in her bedroom. He went up and found her stretched +on the bed pale and silent, without an answer even in her face +to any word or look of his. He sat down by the bed and leaning +over her said with almost a cry of prayer-- + +"Forgive me for this misery, my poor Rosamond! Let us only love +one another." + +She looked at him silently, still with the blank despair on her face; +but then the tears began to fill her blue eyes, and her lip trembled. +The strong man had had too much to bear that day. He let his head +fall beside hers and sobbed. + +He did not hinder her from going to her father early in the morning-- +it seemed now that he ought not to hinder her from doing as she pleased. +In half an hour she came back, and said that papa and mamma wished her +to go and stay with them while things were in this miserable state. +Papa said he could do nothing about the debt--if he paid this, +there would be half-a-dozen more. She had better come back +home again till Lydgate had got a comfortable home for her. +"Do you object, Tertius?" + +"Do as you like," said Lydgate. "But things are not coming +to a crisis immediately. There is no hurry." + +"I should not go till to-morrow," said Rosamond; "I shall want +to pack my clothes." + +"Oh, I would wait a little longer than to-morrow--there is no +knowing what may happen," said Lydgate, with bitter irony. +"I may get my neck broken, and that may make things easier to you." + +It was Lydgate's misfortune and Rosamond's too, that his tenderness +towards her, which was both an emotional prompting and a well-considered +resolve, was inevitably interrupted by these outbursts of indignation +either ironical or remonstrant. She thought them totally unwarranted, +and the repulsion which this exceptional severity excited in +her was in danger of making the more persistent tenderness unacceptable. + +"I see you do not wish me to go," she said, with chill mildness; +"why can you not say so, without that kind of violence? I shall stay +until you request me to do otherwise." + +Lydgate said no more, but went out on his rounds. He felt bruised +and shattered, and there was a dark line under his eyes which +Rosamond had not seen before. She could not bear to look at him. +Tertius had a way of taking things which made them a great deal +worse for her. + +CHAPTER LXX. + + Our deeds still travel with us from afar, + And what we have been makes us what we are." + +Bulstrode's first object after Lydgate had left Stone Court was +to examine Raffles's pockets, which he imagined were sure to carry +signs in the shape of hotel-bills of the places he had stopped in, +if he had not told the truth in saying that he had come straight +from Liverpool because he was ill and had no money. There were +various bills crammed into his pocketbook, but none of a later +date than Christmas at any other place, except one, which bore +date that morning. This was crumpled up with a hand-bill about +a horse-fair in one of his tail-pockets, and represented the cost +of three days' stay at an inn at Bilkley, where the fair was held-- +a town at least forty miles from Middlemarch. The bill was heavy, +and since Raffles had no luggage with him, it seemed probable that he +had left his portmanteau behind in payment, in order to save money +for his travelling fare; for his purse was empty, and he had only +a couple of sixpences and some loose pence in his pockets. + +Bulstrode gathered a sense of safety from these indications that +Raffles had really kept at a distance from Middlemarch since his +memorable visit at Christmas. At a distance and among people who +were strangers to Bulstrode, what satisfaction could there be to +Raffles's tormenting, self-magnifying vein in telling old scandalous +stories about a Middlemarch banker? And what harm if he did talk? +The chief point now was to keep watch over him as long as there +was any danger of that intelligible raving, that unaccountable +impulse to tell, which seemed to have acted towards Caleb Garth; +and Bulstrode felt much anxiety lest some such impulse should come +over him at the sight of Lydgate. He sat up alone with him through +the night, only ordering the housekeeper to lie down in her clothes, +so as to be ready when he called her, alleging his own indisposition +to sleep, and his anxiety to carry out the doctor's orders. +He did carry them out faithfully, although Raffles was incessantly +asking for brandy, and declaring that he was sinking away-- +that the earth was sinking away from under him. He was restless +and sleepless, but still quailing and manageable. On the offer +of the food ordered by Lydgate, which he refused, and the denial +of other things which he demanded, he seemed to concentrate +all his terror on Bulstrode, imploringly deprecating his anger, +his revenge on him by starvation, and declaring with strong oaths +that he had never told any mortal a word against him. Even this +Bulstrode felt that he would not have liked Lydgate to hear; +but a more alarming sign of fitful alternation in his delirium was, +that in-the morning twilight Raffles suddenly seemed to imagine +a doctor present, addressing him and declaring that Bulstrode +wanted to starve him to death out of revenge for telling, when he +never had told. + +Bulstrode's native imperiousness and strength of determination served +him well. This delicate-looking man, himself nervously perturbed, +found the needed stimulus in his strenuous circumstances, and through +that difficult night and morning, while he had the air of an animated +corpse returned to movement without warmth, holding the mastery +by its chill impassibility his mind was intensely at work thinking +of what he had to guard against and what would win him security. +Whatever prayers he might lift up, whatever statements he might inwardly +make of this man's wretched spiritual condition, and the duty he +himself was under to submit to the punishment divinely appointed for +him rather than to wish for evil to another--through all this effort +to condense words into a solid mental state, there pierced and spread +with irresistible vividness the images of the events he desired. +And in the train of those images came their apology. He could not +but see the death of Raffles, and see in it his own deliverance. +What was the removal of this wretched creature? He was impenitent-- +but were not public criminals impenitent?--yet the law decided +on their fate. Should Providence in this case award death, +there was no sin in contemplating death as the desirable issue-- +if he kept his hands from hastening it--if he scrupulously did +what was prescribed. Even here there might be a mistake: +human prescriptions were fallible things: Lydgate had said that +treatment had hastened death,--why not his own method of treatment? +But of course intention was everything in the question of right +and wrong. + +And Bulstrode set himself to keep his intention separate from +his desire. He inwardly declared that he intended to obey orders. +Why should he have got into any argument about the validity of +these orders? It was only the common trick of desire--which avails +itself of any irrelevant scepticism, finding larger room for itself +in all uncertainty about effects, in every obscurity that looks +like the absence of law. Still, he did obey the orders. + +His anxieties continually glanced towards Lydgate, and his remembrance +of what had taken place between them the morning before was accompanied +with sensibilities which had not been roused at all during the +actual scene. He had then cared but little about Lydgate's painful +impressions with regard to the suggested change in the Hospital, +or about the disposition towards himself which what he held to be his +justifiable refusal of a rather exorbitant request might call forth. +He recurred to the scene now with a perception that he had probably +made Lydgate his enemy, and with an awakened desire to propitiate him, +or rather to create in him a strong sense of personal obligation. +He regretted that he had not at once made even an unreasonable +money-sacrifice. For in case of unpleasant suspicions, or even +knowledge gathered from the raving of Raffles, Bulstrode would have +felt that he had a defence in Lydgate's mind by having conferred +a momentous benefit on him. Bat the regret had perhaps come too late. + +Strange, piteous conflict in the soul of this unhappy man, +who had longed for years to be better than he was--who had taken +his selfish passions into discipline and clad them in severe robes, +so that he had walked with them as a devout choir, till now that +a terror had risen among them, and they could chant no longer, +but threw out their common cries for safety. + +It was nearly the middle of the day before Lydgate arrived: +he had meant to come earlier, but had been detained, he said; +and his shattered looks were noticed by Balstrode. But he immediately +threw himself into the consideration of the patient, and inquired +strictly into all that had occurred. Raffles was worse, would take +hardly any food, was persistently wakeful and restlessly raving; +but still not violent. Contrary to Bulstrode's alarmed expectation, +he took little notice of Lydgate's presence, and continued to talk or +murmur incoherently. + +"What do you think of him?" said Bulstrode, in private. + +"The symptoms are worse." + +"You are less hopeful?" + +"No; I still think he may come round. Are you going to stay here yourself?" +said Lydgate, looking at Bulstrode with an abrupt question, which made +him uneasy, though in reality it was not due to any suspicious conjecture. + +"Yes, I think so," said Bulstrode, governing himself and speaking +with deliberation. "Mrs. Bulstrode is advised of the reasons which +detain me. Mrs. Abel and her husband are not experienced enough +to be left quite alone, and this kind of responsibility is scarcely +included in their service of me. You have some fresh instructions, +I presume." + +The chief new instruction that Lydgate had to give was on +the administration of extremely moderate doses of opium, +in case of the sleeplessness continuing after several hours. +He had taken the precaution of bringing opium in his pocket, and he +gave minute directions to Bulstrode as to the doses, and the point +at which they should cease. He insisted on the risk of not ceasing; +and repeated his order that no alcohol should be given. + +"From what I see of the case," he ended, "narcotism is the only +thing I should be much afraid of. He may wear through even without +much food. There's a good deal of strength in him." + +"You look ill yourself, Mr. Lydgate--a most unusual, I may say +unprecedented thing in my knowledge of you," said Bulstrode, +showing a solicitude as unlike his indifference the day before, +as his present recklessness about his own fatigue was unlike his +habitual self-cherishing anxiety. "I fear you are harassed." + +"Yes, I am," said Lydgate, brusquely, holding his hat, and ready +to go. + +"Something new, I fear," said Bulstrode, inquiringly. "Pray be seated." + +"No, thank you," said Lydgate, with some hauteur. "I mentioned +to you yesterday what was the state of my affairs. There is nothing +to add, except that the execution has since then been actually put into +my house. One can tell a good deal of trouble in a short sentence. +I will say good morning." + +"Stay, Mr. Lydgate, stay," said Bulstrode; "I have been +reconsidering this subject. I was yesterday taken by surprise, +and saw it superficially. Mrs. Bulstrode is anxious for her niece, +and I myself should grieve at a calamitous change in your position. +Claims on me are numerous, but on reconsideration, I esteem it right +that I should incur a small sacrifice rather than leave you unaided. +You said, I think, that a thousand pounds would suffice entirely to +free you from your burthens, and enable you to recover a firm stand?" + +"Yes," said Lydgate, a great leap of joy within him surmounting every +other feeling; "that would pay all my debts, and leave me a little +on hand. I could set about economizing in our way of living. +And by-and-by my practice might look up." + +"If you will wait a moment, Mr. Lydgate, I will draw a cheek to +that amount. I am aware that help, to be effectual in these cases, +should be thorough." + +While Bulstrode wrote, Lydgate turned to the window thinking of his home-- +thinking of his life with its good start saved from frustration, +its good purposes still unbroken. + +"You can give me a note of hand for this, Mr. Lydgate," said the banker, +advancing towards him with the check. "And by-and-by, I hope, +you may be in circumstances gradually to repay me. Meanwhile, I have +pleasure in thinking that you will be released from further difficulty." + +"I am deeply obliged to you," said Lydgate. "You have restored +to me the prospect of working with some happiness and some chance +of good." + +It appeared to him a very natural movement in Bulstrode that he +should have reconsidered his refusal: it corresponded with the more +munificent side of his character. But as he put his hack into +a canter, that he might get the sooner home, and tell the good news +to Rosamond, and get cash at the bank to pay over to Dover's agent, +there crossed his mind, with an unpleasant impression, as from +a dark-winged flight of evil augury across his vision, the thought +of that contrast in himself which a few months had brought--that he +should be overjoyed at being under a strong personal obligation-- +that he should be overjoyed at getting money for himself from Bulstrode. + +The banker felt that he had done something to nullify one cause +of uneasiness, and yet he was scarcely the easier. He did not measure +the quantity of diseased motive which had made him wish for Lydgate's +good-will, but the quantity was none the less actively there, +like an irritating agent in his blood. A man vows, and yet will not +east away the means of breaking his vow. Is it that he distinctly +means to break it? Not at all; but the desires which tend to break +it are at work in him dimly, and make their way into his imagination, +and relax his muscles in the very moments when he is telling himself +over again the reasons for his vow. Raffles, recovering quickly, +returning to the free use of his odious powers--how could Bulstrode +wish for that? Raffles dead was the image that brought release, +and indirectly he prayed for that way of release, beseeching that, +if it were possible, the rest of his days here below might be +freed from the threat of an ignominy which would break him utterly +as an instrument of God's service. Lydgate's opinion was not +on the side of promise that this prayer would be fulfilled; +and as the day advanced, Bulstrode felt himself getting irritated +at the persistent life in this man, whom he would fain have seen +sinking into the silence of death imperious will stirred murderous +impulses towards this brute life, over which will, by itself, +had no power. He said inwardly that he was getting too much worn; +he would not sit up with the patient to-night, but leave him to +Mrs. Abel, who, if necessary, could call her husband. + +At six o'clock, Raffles, having had only fitful perturbed +snatches of sleep, from which he waked with fresh restlessness +and perpetual cries that he was sinking away, Bulstrode began +to administer the opium according to Lydgate's directions. +At the end of half an hour or more he called Mrs. Abel and told +her that he found himself unfit for further watching. He must +now consign the patient to her care; and he proceeded to repeat +to her Lydgate's directions as to the quantity of each dose. +Mrs. Abel had not before known anything of Lydgate's prescriptions; +she had simply prepared and brought whatever Bulstrode ordered, +and had done what he pointed out to her. She began now to ask +what else she should do besides administering the opium. + +"Nothing at present, except the offer of the soup or the soda-water: +you can come to me for further directions. Unless there is any +important change, I shall not come into the room again to-night. You +will ask your husband for help if necessary. I must go to bed early." + +"You've much need, sir, I'm sure," said Mrs. Abel, "and to take +something more strengthening than what you've done. + +Bulstrode went-away now without anxiety as to what Raffles might say +in his raving, which had taken on a muttering incoherence not likely +to create any dangerous belief. At any rate he must risk this. +He went down into the wainscoted parlor first, and began to +consider whether he would not have his horse saddled and go home +by the moonlight, and give up caring for earthly consequences. +Then, he wished that he had begged Lydgate to come again +that evening. Perhaps he might deliver a different opinion, +and think that Raffles was getting into a less hopeful state. +Should he send for Lydgate? If Raffles were really getting worse, +and slowly dying, Bulstrode felt that he could go to bed and sleep +in gratitude to Providence. But was he worse? Lydgate might come +and simply say that he was going on as he expected, and predict +that he would by-and-by fall into a good sleep, and get well. +What was the use of sending for him? Bulstrode shrank from that result. +No ideas or opinions could hinder him from seeing the one probability +to be, that Raffles recovered would be just the same man as before, +with his strength as a tormentor renewed, obliging him to drag away +his wife to spend her years apart from her friends and native place, +carrying an alienating suspicion against him in her heart. + +He had sat an hour and a half in this conflict by the firelight only, +when a sudden thought made him rise and light the bed-candle, +which he had brought down with him. The thought was, that he +had not told Mrs. Abel when the doses of opium must cease. + +He took hold of the candlestick, but stood motionless for a long while. +She might already have given him more than Lydgate had prescribed. +But it was excusable in him, that he should forget part of an order, +in his present wearied condition. He walked up-stairs, candle +in hand, not knowing whether he should straightway enter his own +room and go to bed, or turn to the patient's room and rectify +his omission. He paused in the passage, with his face turned towards +Raffles's room, and he could hear him moaning and murmuring. +He was not asleep, then. Who could know that Lydgate's prescription +would not be better disobeyed than followed, since there was still +no sleep? + +He turned into his own room. Before he had quite undressed, +Mrs. Abel rapped at the door; he opened it an inch, so that he +could hear her speak low. + +"If you please, sir, should I have no brandy nor nothing to give +the poor creetur? He feels sinking away, and nothing else will +he swaller--and but little strength in it, if he did--only the opium. +And he says more and more he's sinking down through the earth." + +To her surprise, Mr. Bulstrode did not answer. A struggle was going +on within him. + +"I think he must die for want o' support, if he goes on in that way. +When I nursed my poor master, Mr. Robisson, I had to give him port-wine +and brandy constant, and a big glass at a time," added Mrs. Abel, +with a touch of remonstrance in her tone. + +But again Mr. Bulstrode did not answer immediately, and she continued, +"It's not a time to spare when people are at death's door, nor would +you wish it, sir, I'm sure. Else I should give him our own bottle o' +rum as we keep by us. But a sitter-up so as you've been, and doing +everything as laid in your power--" + +Here a key was thrust through the inch of doorway, and Mr. Bulstrode +said huskily, "That is the key of the wine-cooler. You will find +plenty of brandy there." + +Early in the morning--about six--Mr. Bulstrode rose and spent +some time in prayer. Does any one suppose that private prayer +is necessarily candid--necessarily goes to the roots of action? +Private prayer is inaudible speech, and speech is representative: +who can represent himself just as he is, even in his own reflections? +Bulstrode had not yet unravelled in his thought the confused promptings +of the last four-and-twenty hours. + +He listened in the passage, and could hear hard stertorous breathing. +Then he walked out in the garden, and looked at the early rime on +the grass and fresh spring leaves. When he re-entered the house, +he felt startled at the sight of Mrs. Abel. + +"How is your patient--asleep, I think?" he said, with an attempt +at cheerfulness in his tone. + +"He's gone very deep, sir," said Mrs. Abel. "He went off gradual +between three and four o'clock. Would you please to go and look +at him? I thought it no harm to leave him. My man's gone afield, +and the little girl's seeing to the kettles." + +Bulstrode went up. At a glance he knew that Raffles was not in +the sleep which brings revival, but in the sleep which streams +deeper and deeper into the gulf of death. + +He looked round the room and saw a bottle with some brandy in it, +and the almost empty opium phial. He put the phial out of sight, +and carried the brandy-bottle down-stairs with him, locking it again +in the wine-cooler. + +While breakfasting he considered whether he should ride to +Middlemarch at once, or wait for Lydgate's arrival. He decided +to wait, and told Mrs. Abel that she might go about her work-- +he could watch in the bed-chamber. + +As he sat there and beheld the enemy of his peace going irrevocably +into silence, he felt more at rest than he had done for many months. +His conscience was soothed by the enfolding wing of secrecy, +which seemed just then like an angel sent down for his relief. +He drew out his pocket-book to review various memoranda there as +to the arrangements he had projected and partly carried out in the +prospect of quitting Middlemarch, and considered how far he would +let them stand or recall them, now that his absence would be brief. +Some economies which he felt desirable might still find a suitable +occasion in his temporary withdrawal from management, and he hoped +still that Mrs. Casaubon would take a large share in the expenses +of the Hospital. In that way the moments passed, until a change +in the stertorous breathing was marked enough to draw his attention +wholly to the bed, and forced him to think of the departing life, +which had once been subservient to his own--which he had once been +glad to find base enough for him to act on as he would. It was his +gladness then which impelled him now to be glad that the life was at +an end. + +And who could say that the death of Raffles had been hastened? +Who knew what would have saved him? + +Lydgate arrived at half-past ten, in time to witness the final +pause of the breath. When he entered the room Bulstrode observed +a sudden expression in his face, which was not so much surprise as a +recognition that he had not judged correctly. He stood by the bed +in silence for some time, with his eyes turned on the dying man, +but with that subdued activity of expression which showed that he +was carrying on an inward debate. + +"When did this change begin?" said he, looking at Bulstrode. + +"I did not watch by him last night," said Bulstrode. +"I was over-worn, and left him under Mrs. Abel's care. +She said that he sank into sleep between three and four o'clock. +When I came in before eight he was nearly in this condition." + +Lydgate did not ask another question, but watched in silence until +he said, "It's all over." + +This morning Lydgate was in a state of recovered hope and freedom. +He had set out on his work with all his old animation, and felt himself +strong enough to bear all the deficiencies of his married life. +And he was conscious that Bulstrode had been a benefactor to him. +But he was uneasy about this case. He had not expected it to +terminate as it had done. Yet he hardly knew how to put a question +on the subject to Bulstrode without appearing to insult him; +and if he examined the housekeeper--why, the man was dead. +There seemed to be no use in implying that somebody's ignorance +or imprudence had killed him. And after all, he himself might +be wrong. + +He and Bulstrode rode back to Middlemarch together, talking of +many things--chiefly cholera and the chances of the Reform Bill +in the House of Lords, and the firm resolve of the political Unions. +Nothing was said about Raffles, except that Bulstrode mentioned +the necessity of having a grave for him in Lowick churchyard, +and observed that, so far as he knew, the poor man had no connections, +except Rigg, whom he had stated to be unfriendly towards him. + +On returning home Lydgate had a visit from Mr. Farebrother. The Vicar +had not been in the town the day before, but the news that there +was an execution in Lydgate's house had got to Lowick by the evening, +having been carried by Mr. Spicer, shoemaker and parish-clerk, who had +it from his brother, the respectable bell-hanger in Lowick Gate. +Since that evening when Lydgate had come down from the billiard +room with Fred Vincy, Mr. Farebrother's thoughts about him had +been rather gloomy. Playing at the Green Dragon once or oftener +might have been a trifle in another man; but in Lydgate it was +one of several signs that he was getting unlike his former self. +He was beginning to do things for which he had formerly even an +excessive scorn. Whatever certain dissatisfactions in marriage, +which some silly tinklings of gossip had given him hints of, +might have to do with this change, Mr. Farebrother felt sure +that it was chiefly connected with the debts which were being +more and more distinctly reported, and he began to fear that any +notion of Lydgate's having resources or friends in the background +must be quite illusory. The rebuff he had met with in his first +attempt to win Lydgate's confidence, disinclined him to a second; +but this news of the execution being actually in the house, +determined the Vicar to overcome his reluctance. + +Lydgate had just dismissed a poor patient, in whom he was much interested, +and he came forward to put out his hand--with an open cheerfulness +which surprised Mr. Farebrother. Could this too be a proud rejection of +sympathy and help? Never mind; the sympathy and help should be offered. + +"How are you, Lydgate? I came to see you because I had heard +something which made me anxious about you," said the Vicar, in the +tone of a good brother, only that there was no reproach in it. +They were both seated by this time, and Lydgate answered immediately-- + +"I think I know what you mean. You had heard that there was +an execution in the house?" + +"Yes; is it true?" + +"It was true," said Lydgate, with an air of freedom, as if he did +not mind talking about the affair now. "But the danger is over; +the debt is paid. I am out of my difficulties now: I shall be freed +from debts, and able, I hope, to start afresh on a better plan." + +"I am very thankful to hear it," said the Vicar, falling back in +his chair, and speaking with that low-toned quickness which often +follows the removal of a load. "I like that better than all +the news in the `Times.' I confess I came to you with a heavy heart." + +"Thank you for coming," said Lydgate, cordially. "I can enjoy +the kindness all the more because I am happier. I have certainly +been a good deal crushed. I'm afraid I shall find the bruises +still painful by-and by," he added, smiling rather sadly; +"but just now I can only feel that the torture-screw is off." + +Mr. Farebrother was silent for a moment, and then said earnestly, +"My dear fellow, let me ask you one question. Forgive me if I take +a liberty." + +"I don't believe you will ask anything that ought to offend me." + +"Then--this is necessary to set my heart quite at rest--you have not-- +have you?--in order to pay your debts, incurred another debt which +may harass you worse hereafter?" + +"No," said Lydgate, coloring slightly. "There is no reason why I +should not tell you--since the fact is so--that the person to whom I +am indebted is Bulstrode. He has made me a very handsome advance-- +a thousand pounds--and he can afford to wait for repayment." + +"Well, that is generous," said Mr. Farebrother, compelling himself +to approve of the man whom he disliked. His delicate feeling shrank +from dwelling even in his thought on the fact that he had always +urged Lydgate to avoid any personal entanglement with Bulstrode. +He added immediately, "And Bulstrode must naturally feel an interest +in your welfare, after you have worked with him in a way which has +probably reduced your income instead of adding to it. I am glad +to think that he has acted accordingly." + +Lydgate felt uncomfortable under these kindly suppositions. +They made more distinct within him the uneasy consciousness +which had shown its first dim stirrings only a few hours before, +that Bulstrode's motives for his sudden beneficence following +close upon the chillest indifference might be merely selfish. +He let the kindly suppositions pass. He could not tell the history +of the loan, but it was more vividly present with him than ever, +as well as the fact which the Vicar delicately ignored--that this +relation of personal indebtedness to Bulstrode was what he had once +been most resolved to avoid. + +He began, instead of answering, to speak of his projected economies, +and of his having come to look at his life from a different point +of view. + +"I shall set up a surgery," he said. "I really think I made +a mistaken effort in that respect. And if Rosamond will not mind, +I shall take an apprentice. I don't like these things, but if +one carries them out faithfully they are not really lowering. +I have had a severe galling to begin with: that will make the small +rubs seem easy." + +Poor Lydgate! the "if Rosamond will not mind," which had fallen +from him involuntarily as part of his thought, was a significant +mark of the yoke he bore. But Mr. Farebrother, whose hopes entered +strongly into the same current with Lydgate's, and who knew +nothing about him that could now raise a melancholy presentiment, +left him with affectionate congratulation. + +CHAPTER LXXI. + + Clown. . . . 'Twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, indeed, + you have a delight to sit, have you not? + Froth. I have so: because it is an open room, and good for winter. + Clo. Why, very well then: I hope here be truths. + --Measure for Measure. + +Five days after the death of Raffles, Mr. Bambridge was standing +at his leisure under the large archway leading into the yard of the +Green Dragon. He was not fond of solitary contemplation, but he +had only just come out of the house, and any human figure standing +at ease under the archway in the early afternoon was as certain +to attract companionship as a pigeon which has found something worth +peeking at. In this case there was no material object to feed upon, +but the eye of reason saw a probability of mental sustenance in the +shape of gossip. Mr. Hopkins, the meek-mannered draper opposite, +was the first to act on this inward vision, being the more ambitious +of a little masculine talk because his customers were chiefly women. +Mr. Bambridge was rather curt to the draper, feeling that Hopkins +was of course glad to talk to HIM, but that he was not going +to waste much of his talk on Hopkins. Soon, however, there was +a small cluster of more important listeners, who were either +deposited from the passers-by, or had sauntered to the spot expressly +to see if there were anything going on at the Green Dragon; +and Mr. Bambridge was finding it worth his while to say many +impressive things about the fine studs he had been seeing and the +purchases he had made on a journey in the north from which he had +just returned. Gentlemen present were assured that when they could +show him anything to cut out a blood mare, a bay, rising four, +which was to be seen at Doncaster if they chose to go and look +at it, Mr. Bambridge would gratify them by being shot "from here +to Hereford." Also, a pair of blacks which he was going to put +into the break recalled vividly to his mind a pair which he had sold +to Faulkner in '19, for a hundred guineas, and which Faulkner had +sold for a hundred and sixty two months later--any gent who could +disprove this statement being offered the privilege of calling +Mr. Bambridge by a very ugly name until the exercise made his throat dry. + +When the discourse was at this point of animation, came up Mr. Frank +Hawley. He was not a man to compromise his dignity by lounging at +the Green Dragon, but happening to pass along the High Street and +seeing Bambridge on the other side, he took some of his long strides +across to ask the horsedealer whether he had found the first-rate +gig-horse which he had engaged to look for. Mr. Hawley was requested +to wait until he had seen a gray selected at Bilkley: if that did +not meet his wishes to a hair, Bambridge did not know a horse when he +saw it, which seemed to be the highest conceivable unlikelihood. +Mr. Hawley, standing with his back to the street, was fixing a time for +looking at the gray and seeing it tried, when a horseman passed slowly by. + +"Bulstrode!" said two or three voices at once in a low tone, one of them, +which was the draper's, respectfully prefixing the "Mr.;" but nobody +having more intention in this interjectural naming than if they had said +"the Riverston coach" when that vehicle appeared in the distance. +Mr. Hawley gave a careless glance round at Bulstrode's back, +but as Bambridge's eyes followed it he made a sarcastic grimace. + +"By jingo! that reminds me," he began, lowering his voice a little, +"I picked up something else at Bilkley besides your gig-horse, +Mr. Hawley. I picked up a fine story about Bulstrode. +Do you know how he came by his fortune? Any gentleman wanting +a bit of curious information, I can give it him free of expense. +If everybody got their deserts, Bulstrode might have had to say +his prayers at Botany Bay." + +"What do you mean?" said Mr. Hawley, thrusting his hands into +his pockets, and pushing a little forward under the archway. +If Bulstrode should turn out to be a rascal, Frank Hawley had +a prophetic soul. + +"I had it from a party who was an old chum of Bulstrode's. +I'll tell you where I first picked him up," said Bambridge, +with a sudden gesture of his fore-finger. "He was at Larcher's sale, +but I knew nothing of him then--he slipped through my fingers-- +was after Bulstrode, no doubt. He tells me he can tap Bulstrode +to any amount, knows all his secrets. However, he blabbed to me +at Bilkley: he takes a stiff glass. Damme if I think he meant +to turn king's evidence; but he's that sort of bragging fellow, +the bragging runs over hedge and ditch with him, till he'd brag of a +spavin as if it 'ud fetch money. A man should know when to pull up." +Mr. Bambridge made this remark with an air of disgust, satisfied that +his own bragging showed a fine sense of the marketable. + +"What's the man's name? Where can he be found?" said Mr. Hawley. + +"As to where he is to be found, I left him to it at the Saracen's Head; +but his name is Raffles." + +"Raffles!" exclaimed Mr. Hopkins. "I furnished his funeral yesterday. +He was buried at Lowick. Mr. Bulstrode followed him. A very +decent funeral." There was a strong sensation among the listeners. +Mr. Bambridge gave an ejaculation in which "brimstone" was the +mildest word, and Mr. Hawley, knitting his brows and bending +his head forward, exclaimed, "What?--where did the man die?" + +"At Stone Court," said the draper. "The housekeeper said he was +a relation of the master's. He came there ill on Friday." + +"Why, it was on Wednesday I took a glass with him," interposed Bambridge. + +"Did any doctor attend him?" said Mr. Hawley + +"Yes. Mr. Lydgate. Mr. Bulstrode sat up with him one night. +He died the third morning." + +"Go on, Bambridge," said Mr. Hawley, insistently. "What did this +fellow say about Bulstrode?" + +The group had already become larger, the town-clerk's presence being +a guarantee that something worth listening to was going on there; +and Mr. Bambridge delivered his narrative in the hearing of seven. +It was mainly what we know, including the fact about Will Ladislaw, +with some local color and circumstance added: it was what Bulstrode +had dreaded the betrayal of--and hoped to have buried forever with +the corpse of Raffles--it was that haunting ghost of his earlier +life which as he rode past the archway of the Green Dragon he was +trusting that Providence had delivered him from. Yes, Providence. +He had not confessed to himself yet that he had done anything +in the way of contrivance to this end; he had accepted what seemed +to have been offered. It was impossible to prove that he had done +anything which hastened the departure of that man's soul. + +But this gossip about Bulstrode spread through Middlemarch like +the smell of fire. Mr. Frank Hawley followed up his information +by sending a clerk whom he could trust to Stone Court on a pretext +of inquiring about hay, but really to gather all that could be +learned about Raffles and his illness from Mrs. Abel. In this way +it came to his knowledge that Mr. Garth had carried the man to Stone +Court in his gig; and Mr. Hawley in consequence took an opportunity +of seeing Caleb, calling at his office to ask whether he had time +to undertake an arbitration if it were required, and then asking +him incidentally about Raffles. Caleb was betrayed into no word +injurious to Bulstrode beyond the fact which he was forced to admit, +that he had given up acting for him within the last week. +Mr Hawley drew his inferences, and feeling convinced that Raffles +had told his story to Garth, and that Garth had given up Bulstrode's +affairs in consequence, said so a few hours later to Mr. Toller. +The statement was passed on until it had quite lost the stamp +of an inference, and was taken as information coming straight +from Garth, so that even a diligent historian might have concluded +Caleb to be the chief publisher of Bulstrode's misdemeanors. + +Mr. Hawley was not slow to perceive that there was no handle +for the law either in the revelations made by Raffles or in the +circumstances of his death. He had himself ridden to Lowick village +that he might look at the register and talk over the whole matter +with Mr. Farebrother, who was not more surprised than the lawyer +that an ugly secret should have come to light about Bulstrode, +though he had always had justice enough in him to hinder his antipathy +from turning into conclusions. But while they were talking another +combination was silently going forward in Mr. Farebrother's mind, +which foreshadowed what was soon to be loudly spoken of in Middlemarch +as a necessary "putting of two and two together." With the reasons +which kept Bulstrode in dread of Raffles there flashed the thought +that the dread might have something to do with his munificence +towards his medical man; and though he resisted the suggestion +that it had been consciously accepted in any way as a bribe, he had +a foreboding that this complication of things might be of malignant +effect on Lydgate's reputation. He perceived that Mr. Hawley knew +nothing at present of the sudden relief from debt, and he himself +was careful to glide away from all approaches towards the subject. + +"Well," he said, with a deep breath, wanting to wind up the +illimitable discussion of what might have been, though nothing could +be legally proven, "it is a strange story. So our mercurial Ladislaw +has a queer genealogy! A high-spirited young lady and a musical +Polish patriot made a likely enough stock for him to spring from, +but I should never have suspected a grafting of the Jew pawnbroker. +However, there's no knowing what a mixture will turn out beforehand. +Some sorts of dirt serve to clarify." + +"It's just what I should have expected," said Mr. Hawley, +mounting his horse. "Any cursed alien blood, Jew, Corsican, or Gypsy." + +"I know he's one of your black sheep, Hawley. But he is really +a disinterested, unworldly fellow," said Mr. Farebrother, smiling. + +"Ay, ay, that is your Whiggish twist," said Mr. Hawley, who had been +in the habit of saying apologetically that Farebrother was such +a damned pleasant good-hearted fellow you would mistake him for a Tory. + +Mr. Hawley rode home without thinking of Lydgate's attendance on +Raffles in any other light than as a piece of evidence on the side +of Bulstrode. But the news that Lydgate had all at once become +able not only to get rid of the execution in his house but to pay +all his debts in Middlemarch was spreading fast, gathering round +it conjectures and comments which gave it new body and impetus, +and soon filling the ears of other persons besides Mr. Hawley, +who were not slow to see a significant relation between this sudden +command of money and Bulstrode's desire to stifle the scandal +of Raffles. That the money came from Bulstrode would infallibly +have been guessed even if there had been no direct evidence of it; +for it had beforehand entered into the gossip about Lydgate's affairs, +that neither his father-in-law nor his own family would do anything +for him, and direct evidence was furnished not only by a clerk +at the Bank, but by innocent Mrs. Bulstrode herself, who mentioned +the loan to Mrs. Plymdale, who mentioned it to her daughter-in-law +of the house of Toller, who mentioned it generally. The business +was felt to be so public and important that it required dinners +to feed it, and many invitations were just then issued and accepted +on the strength of this scandal concerning Bulstrode and Lydgate; +wives, widows, and single ladies took their work and went out to tea +oftener than usual; and all public conviviality, from the Green +Dragon to Dollop's, gathered a zest which could not be won from +the question whether the Lords would throw out the Reform Bill. + +For hardly anybody doubted that some scandalous reason or other was at +the bottom of Bulstrode's liberality to Lydgate. Mr. Hawley indeed, +in the first instance, invited a select party, including the +two physicians, with Mr Toller and Mr. Wrench, expressly to hold +a close discussion as to the probabilities of Raffles's illness, +reciting to them all the particulars which had been gathered from +Mrs. Abel in connection with Lydgate's certificate, that the death +was due to delirium tremens; and the medical gentlemen, who all +stood undisturbedly on the old paths in relation to this disease, +declared that they could see nothing in these particulars which could +be transformed into a positive ground of suspicion. But the moral +grounds of suspicion remained: the strong motives Bulstrode +clearly had for wishing to be rid of Raffles, and the fact that at +this critical moment he had given Lydgate the help which he must +for some time have known the need for; the disposition, moreover, +to believe that Bulstrode would be unscrupulous, and the absence +of any indisposition to believe that Lydgate might be as easily +bribed as other haughty-minded men when they have found themselves +in want of money. Even if the money had been given merely to make +him hold his tongue about the scandal of Bulstrode's earlier life, +the fact threw an odious light on Lydgate, who had long been sneered +at as making himself subservient to the banker for the sake of working +himself into predominance, and discrediting the elder members of +his profession. Hence, in spite of the negative as to any direct +sign of guilt in relation to the death at Stone Court, Mr. Hawley's +select party broke up with the sense that the affair had "an ugly look." + +But this vague conviction of indeterminable guilt, which was enough +to keep up much head-shaking and biting innuendo even among substantial +professional seniors, had for the general mind all the superior +power of mystery over fact. Everybody liked better to conjecture +how the thing was, than simply to know it; for conjecture soon became +more confident than knowledge, and had a more liberal allowance +for the incompatible. Even the more definite scandal concerning +Bulstrode's earlier life was, for some minds, melted into the mass +of mystery, as so much lively metal to be poured out in dialogue, +and to take such fantastic shapes as heaven pleased. + +This was the tone of thought chiefly sanctioned by Mrs. Dollop, +the spirited landlady of the Tankard in Slaughter Lane, who had often +to resist the shallow pragmatism of customers disposed to think +that their reports from the outer world were of equal force with +what had "come up" in her mind. How it had been brought to her she +didn't know, but it was there before her as if it had been scored +with the chalk on the chimney-board--" as Bulstrode should say, +his inside was THAT BLACK as if the hairs of his head knowed +the thoughts of his heart, he'd tear 'em up by the roots." + +"That's odd," said Mr. Limp, a meditative shoemaker, with weak +eyes and a piping voice. "Why, I read in the `Trumpet' that was +what the Duke of Wellington said when he turned his coat and went +over to the Romans." + +"Very like," said Mrs. Dollop. "If one raskill said it, it's more +reason why another should. But hypoCRITE as he's been, +and holding things with that high hand, as there was no parson i' +the country good enough for him, he was forced to take Old Harry +into his counsel, and Old Harry's been too many for him." + +"Ay, ay, he's a 'complice you can't send out o' the country," +said Mr. Crabbe, the glazier, who gathered much news and groped +among it dimly. "But by what I can make out, there's them says +Bulstrode was for running away, for fear o' being found out, +before now." + +"He'll be drove away, whether or no," said Mr. Dill, the barber, +who had just dropped in. "I shaved Fletcher, Hawley's clerk, +this morning--he's got a bad finger--and he says they're all of one +mind to get rid of Bulstrode. Mr. Thesiger is turned against him, +and wants him out o' the parish. And there's gentlemen in this town +says they'd as soon dine with a fellow from the hulks. `And a deal +sooner I would,' says Fletcher; `for what's more against one's stomach +than a man coming and making himself bad company with his religion, +and giving out as the Ten Commandments are not enough for him, +and all the while he's worse than half the men at the tread-mill?' +Fletcher said so himself." + +"It'll be a bad thing for the town though, if Bulstrode's money +goes out of it," said Mr. Limp, quaveringly. + +"Ah, there's better folks spend their money worse," said a +firm-voiced dyer, whose crimson hands looked out of keeping +with his good-natured face. + +"But he won't keep his money, by what I can make out," said the glazier. +"Don't they say as there's somebody can strip it off him? +By what I can understan', they could take every penny off him, +if they went to lawing." + +"No such thing!" said the barber, who felt himself a little above +his company at Dollop's, but liked it none the worse. "Fletcher says +it's no such thing. He says they might prove over and over again +whose child this young Ladislaw was, and they'd do no more than +if they proved I came out of the Fens--he couldn't touch a penny." + +"Look you there now!" said Mrs. Dollop, indignantly. "I thank +the Lord he took my children to Himself, if that's all the law +can do for the motherless. Then by that, it's o' no use who your +father and mother is. But as to listening to what one lawyer says +without asking another--I wonder at a man o' your cleverness, +Mr. Dill. It's well known there's always two sides, if no more; +else who'd go to law, I should like to know? It's a poor tale, +with all the law as there is up and down, if it's no use proving +whose child you are. Fletcher may say that if he likes, but I say, +don't Fletcher ME!" + +Mr. Dill affected to laugh in a complimentary way at Mrs. Dollop, +as a woman who was more than a match for the lawyers; being disposed +to submit to much twitting from a landlady who had a long score +against him. + +"If they come to lawing, and it's all true as folks say, +there's more to be looked to nor money," said the glazier. +"There's this poor creetur as is dead and gone; by what I can make out, +he'd seen the day when he was a deal finer gentleman nor Bulstrode." + +"Finer gentleman! I'll warrant him," said Mrs. Dollop; "and a far +personabler man, by what I can hear. As I said when Mr. Baldwin, +the tax-gatherer, comes in, a-standing where you sit, and says, +`Bulstrode got all his money as he brought into this town by thieving +and swindling,'--I said, `You don't make me no wiser, Mr. Baldwin: +it's set my blood a-creeping to look at him ever sin' here he came +into Slaughter Lane a-wanting to buy the house over my head: +folks don't look the color o' the dough-tub and stare at you as if they +wanted to see into your backbone for nothingk.' That was what I said, +and Mr. Baldwin can bear me witness." + +"And in the rights of it too," said Mr. Crabbe. "For by what I can +make out, this Raffles, as they call him, was a lusty, fresh-colored man +as you'd wish to see, and the best o' company--though dead he lies +in Lowick churchyard sure enough; and by what I can understan', +there's them knows more than they SHOULD know about how he got there." + +"I'll believe you!" said Mrs. Dallop, with a touch of scorn +at Mr. Crabbe's apparent dimness. "When a man's been 'ticed +to a lone house, and there's them can pay for hospitals and nurses +for half the country-side choose to be sitters-up night and day, +and nobody to come near but a doctor as is known to stick at nothingk, +and as poor as he can hang together, and after that so flush o' +money as he can pay off Mr. Byles the butcher as his bill has +been running on for the best o' joints since last Michaelmas was +a twelvemonth--I don't want anybody to come and tell me as there's +been more going on nor the Prayer-book's got a service for-- +I don't want to stand winking and blinking and thinking." + +Mrs. Dollop looked round with the air of a landlady accustomed +to dominate her company. There was a chorus of adhesion from the +more courageous; but Mr. Limp, after taking a draught, placed his +fiat hands together and pressed them hard between his knees, +looking down at them with blear-eyed contemplation, as if the scorching +power of Mrs. Dollop's speech had quite dried up and nullified +his wits until they could be brought round again by further moisture. + +"Why shouldn't they dig the man up and have the Crowner?" +said the dyer. "It's been done many and many's the time. +If there's been foul play they might find it out." + +"Not they, Mr. Jonas!" said Mrs Dollop, emphatically."I know +what doctors are. They're a deal too cunning to be found out. +And this Doctor Lydgate that's been for cutting up everybody before +the breath was well out o' their body--it's plain enough what use +he wanted to make o' looking into respectable people's insides. +He knows drugs, you may be sure, as you can neither smell nor see, +neither before they're swallowed nor after. Why, I've seen drops +myself ordered by Doctor Gambit, as is our club doctor and a +good charikter, and has brought more live children into the world nor +ever another i' Middlemarch--I say I've seen drops myself as made +no difference whether they was in the glass or out, and yet have +griped you the next day. So I'll leave your own sense to judge. +Don't tell me! All I say is, it's a mercy they didn't take this Doctor +Lydgate on to our club. There's many a mother's child might ha' +rued it." + +The heads of this discussion at "Dollop's" had been the common +theme among all classes in the town, had been carried to Lowick +Parsonage on one side and to Tipton Grange on the other, had come +fully to the ears of the Vincy family, and had been discussed with +sad reference to "poor Harriet" by all Mrs. Bulstrode's friends, +before Lydgate knew distinctly why people were looking strangely at him, +and before Bulstrode himself suspected the betrayal of his secrets. +He had not been accustomed to very cordial relations with his neighbors, +and hence he could not miss the signs of cordiality; moreover, he had +been taking journeys on business of various kinds, having now made +up his mind that he need not quit Middlemarch, and feeling able +consequently to determine on matters which he had before left in suspense. + +"We will make a journey to Cheltenham in the course of a month or two," +he had said to his wife. "There are great spiritual advantages +to be had in that town along with the air and the waters, and six +weeks there will be eminently refreshing to us." + +He really believed in the spiritual advantages, and meant that his +life henceforth should be the more devoted because of those later sins +which he represented to himself as hypothetic, praying hypothetically +for their pardon:--"if I have herein transgressed." as to the Hospital, +he avoided saying anything further to Lydgate, fearing to manifest +a too sudden change of plans immediately on the death of Raffles. +In his secret soul he believed that Lydgate suspected his orders to have +been intentionally disobeyed, and suspecting this he must also suspect +a motive. But nothing had been betrayed to him as to the history +of Raffles, and Bulstrode was anxious not to do anything which would +give emphasis to his undefined suspicions. As to any certainty +that a particular method of treatment would either save or kill, +Lydgate himself was constantly arguing against such dogmatism; +he had no right to speak, and he had every motive for being silent. +Hence Bulstrode felt himself providentially secured. The only +incident he had strongly winced under had been an occasional encounter +with Caleb Garth, who, however, had raised his hat with mild gravity. + +Meanwhile, on the part of the principal townsmen a strong +determination was growing against him. + +A meeting was to be held in the Town-Hall on a sanitary question +which had risen into pressing importance by the occurrence of a cholera +case in the town. Since the Act of Parliament, which had been +hurriedly passed, authorizing assessments for sanitary measures, +there had been a Board for the superintendence of such measures +appointed in Middlemarch, and much cleansing and preparation +had been concurred in by Whigs and Tories. The question now was, +whether a piece of ground outside the town should be secured as a +burial-ground by means of assessment or by private subscription. +The meeting was to be open, and almost everybody of importance +in the town was expected to be there. + +Mr. Bulstrode was a member of the Board, and just before twelve +o'clock he started from the Bank with the intention of urging the plan +of private subscription. Under the hesitation of his projects, +he had for some time kept himself in the background, and he felt +that he should this morning resume his old position as a man of action +and influence in the public affairs of the town where he expected to +end his days. Among the various persons going in the same direction, +he saw Lydgate; they joined, talked over the object of the meeting, +and entered it together. + +It seemed that everybody of mark had been earlier than they. +But there were still spaces left near the head of the large +central table, and they made their way thither. Mr. Farebrother +sat opposite, not far from Mr. Hawley; all the medical men were there; +Mr. Thesiger was in the chair, and Mr. Brooke of Tipton was on his +right hand. + +Lydgate noticed a peculiar interchange of glances when he +and Bulstrode took their seats. + +After the business had been fully opened by the chairman, +who pointed out the advantages of purchasing by subscription a piece +of ground large enough to be ultimately used as a general cemetery, +Mr. Bulstrode, whose rather high-pitched but subdued and fluent +voice the town was used to at meetings of this sort, rose and asked +leave to deliver his opinion. Lydgate could see again the peculiar +interchange of glances before Mr. Hawley started up, and said +in his firm resonant voice, "Mr. Chairman, I request that before +any one delivers his opinion on this point I may be permitted +to speak on a question of public feeling, which not only by myself, +but by many gentlemen present, is regarded as preliminary." + +Mr. Hawley's mode of speech, even when public decorum repressed his +"awful language," was formidable in its curtness and self-possession. +Mr. Thesiger sanctioned the request, Mr. Bulstrode sat down, +and Mr. Hawley continued. + +"In what I have to say, Mr. Chairman, I am not speaking simply +on my own behalf: I am speaking with the concurrence and at +the express request of no fewer than eight of my fellow-townsmen, +who are immediately around us. It is our united sentiment that +Mr. Bulstrode should be called upon--and I do now call upon him-- +to resign public positions which he holds not simply as a tax-payer, +but as a gentleman among gentlemen. There are practices and there +are acts which, owing to circumstances, the law cannot visit, +though they may be worse than many things which are legally punishable. +Honest men and gentlemen, if they don't want the company of people who +perpetrate such acts, have got to defend themselves as they best can, +and that is what I and the friends whom I may call my clients in this +affair are determined to do. I don't say that Mr. Bulstrode has +been guilty of shameful acts, but I call upon him either publicly +to deny and confute the scandalous statements made against him by a +man now dead, and who died in his house--the statement that he was +for many years engaged in nefarious practices, and that he won his +fortune by dishonest procedures--or else to withdraw from positions +which could only have been allowed him as a gentleman among gentlemen." + +All eyes in the room were turned on Mr. Bulstrode, who, since the first +mention of his name, had been going through a crisis of feeling almost +too violent for his delicate frame to support. Lydgate, who himself +was undergoing a shock as from the terrible practical interpretation +of some faint augury, felt, nevertheless, that his own movement +of resentful hatred was checked by that instinct of the Healer +which thinks first of bringing rescue or relief to the sufferer, +when he looked at the shrunken misery of Bulstrode's livid face. + +The quick vision that his life was after all a failure, that he was +a dishonored man, and must quail before the glance of those towards +whom he had habitually assumed the attitude of a reprover--that God +had disowned him before men and left him unscreened to the triumphant +scorn of those who were glad to have their hatred justified--the sense +of utter futility in that equivocation with his conscience in dealing +with the life of his accomplice, an equivocation which now turned +venomously upon him with the full-grown fang of a discovered lie:-- +all this rushed through him like the agony of terror which fails to kill, +and leaves the ears still open to the returning wave of execration. +The sudden sense of exposure after the re-established sense of +safety came--not to the coarse organization of a criminal but to-- +the susceptible nerve of a man whose intensest being lay in such +mastery and predominance as the conditions of his life had shaped +for him. + +But in that intense being lay the strength of reaction. Through all +his bodily infirmity there ran a tenacious nerve of ambitious +self-preserving will, which had continually leaped out like a flame, +scattering all doctrinal fears, and which, even while he sat +an object of compassion for the merciful, was beginning to stir +and glow under his ashy paleness. Before the last words were +out of Mr. Hawley's mouth, Bulstrode felt that he should answer, +and that his answer would be a retort. He dared not get up and say, +"I am not guilty, the whole story is false"--even if he had +dared this, it would have seemed to him, under his present keen sense +of betrayal, as vain as to pull, for covering to his nakedness, +a frail rag which would rend at every little strain. + +For a few moments there was total silence, while every man +in the room was looking at Bulstrode. He sat perfectly still, +leaning hard against the back of his chair; he could not venture +to rise, and when he began to speak he pressed his hands upon +the seat on each side of him. But his voice was perfectly audible, +though hoarser than usual, and his words were distinctly pronounced, +though he paused between sentence as if short of breath. He said, +turning first toward Mr. Thesiger, and then looking at Mr. Hawley-- + +"I protest before you, sir, as a Christian minister, against the sanction +of proceedings towards me which are dictated by virulent hatred. +Those who are hostile to me are glad to believe any libel uttered +by a loose tongue against me. And their consciences become strict +against me. Say that the evil-speaking of which I am to be made +the victim accuses me of malpractices--" here Bulstrode's voice +rose and took on a more biting accent, till it seemed a low cry-- +"who shall be my accuser? Not men whose own lives are unchristian, +nay, scandalous--not men who themselves use low instruments to +carry out their ends--whose profession is a tissue of chicanery-- +who have been spending their income on their own sensual enjoyments, +while I have been devoting mine to advance the best objects with +regard to this life and the next." + +After the word chicanery there was a growing noise, half of murmurs +and half of hisses, while four persons started up at once--Mr. Hawley, +Mr. Toller, Mr. Chichely, and Mr. Hackbutt; but Mr. Hawley's +outburst was instantaneous, and left the others behind in silence. + +"If you mean me, sir, I call you and every one else to the inspection +of my professional life. As to Christian or unchristian, I repudiate +your canting palavering Christianity; and as to the way in which I +spend my income, it is not my principle to maintain thieves and cheat +offspring of their due inheritance in order to support religion +and set myself up as a saintly Killjoy. I affect no niceness +of conscience--I have not found any nice standards necessary yet +to measure your actions by, sir. And I again call upon you to enter +into satisfactory explanations concerning the scandals against you, +or else to withdraw from posts in which we at any rate decline you +as a colleague. I say, sir, we decline to co-operate with a man +whose character is not cleared from infamous lights cast upon it, +not only by reports but by recent actions." + +"Allow me, Mr. Hawley," said the chairman; and Mr. Hawley, +still fuming, bowed half impatiently, and sat down with his hands +thrust deep in his pockets. + +"Mr. Bulstrode, it is not desirable, I think, to prolong the +present discussion," said Mr. Thesiger, turning to the pallid +trembling man; "I must so far concur with what has fallen from +Mr. Hawley in expression of a general feeling, as to think it +due to your Christian profession that you should clear yourself, +if possible, from unhappy aspersions. I for my part should be +willing to give you full opportunity and hearing. But I must say +that your present attitude is painfully inconsistent with those +principles which you have sought to identify yourself with, and for +the honor of which I am bound to care. I recommend you at present, +as your clergyman, and one who hopes for your reinstatement +in respect, to quit the room, and avoid further hindrance to business." + +Bulstrode, after a moment's hesitation, took his hat from the +floor and slowly rose, but he grasped the corner of the chair +so totteringly that Lydgate felt sure there was not strength +enough in him to walk away without support. What could he do? +He could not see a man sink close to him for want of help. +He rose and gave his arm to Bulstrode, and in that way led him out +of the room; yet this act, which might have been one of gentle duty +and pure compassion, was at this moment unspeakably bitter to him. +It seemed as if he were putting his sign-manual to that association +of himself with Bulstrode, of which he now saw the full meaning +as it must have presented itself to other minds. He now felt the +conviction that this man who was leaning tremblingly on his arm, +had given him the thousand pounds as a bribe, and that somehow the +treatment of Raffles had been tampered with from an evil motive. +The inferences were closely linked enough; the town knew of the loan, +believed it to be a bribe, and believed that he took it as a bribe. + +Poor Lydgate, his mind struggling under the terrible clutch +of this revelation, was all the while morally forced to take +Mr. Bulstrode to the Bank, send a man off for his carriage, +and wait to accompany him home. + +Meanwhile the business of the meeting was despatched, and fringed +off into eager discussion among various groups concerning this +affair of Bulstrode--and Lydgate. + +Mr. Brooke, who had before heard only imperfect hints of it, +and was very uneasy that he had "gone a little too far" +in countenancing Bulstrode, now got himself fully informed, +and felt some benevolent sadness in talking to Mr. Farebrother +about the ugly light in which Lydgate had come to be regarded. +Mr. Farebrother was going to walk back to Lowick. + +"Step into my carriage," said Mr. Brooke. "I am going round to see +Mrs. Casaubon. She was to come back from Yorkshire last night. +She will like to see me, you know." + +So they drove along, Mr. Brooke chatting with good-natured hope +that there had not really been anything black in Lydgate's behavior-- +a young fellow whom he had seen to be quite above the common mark, +when he brought a letter from his uncle Sir Godwin. Mr. Farebrother +said little: he was deeply mournful: with a keen perception of +human weakness, he could not be confident that under the pressure +of humiliating needs Lydgate had not fallen below himself. + +When the carriage drove up to the gate of the Manor, Dorothea was +out on the gravel, and came to greet them. + +"Well, my dear," said Mr. Brooke, "we have just come from a meeting-- +a sanitary meeting, you know." + +"Was Mr. Lydgate there?" said Dorothea, who looked full of health +and animation, and stood with her head bare under the gleaming +April lights. "I want to see him and have a great consultation +with him about the Hospital. I have engaged with Mr. Bulstrode +to do so." + +"Oh, my dear," said Mr. Brooke, "we have been hearing bad news-- +bad news, you know." + +They walked through the garden towards the churchyard gate, +Mr. Farebrother wanting to go on to the parsonage; and Dorothea +heard the whole sad story. + +She listened with deep interest, and begged to hear twice over the +facts and impressions concerning Lydgate. After a short silence, +pausing at the churchyard gate, and addressing Mr. Farebrother, +she said energetically-- + +"You don't believe that Mr. Lydgate is guilty of anything base? +I will not believe it. Let us find out the truth and clear him!" + +BOOK VIII. + +SUNSET AND SUNRISE. + +CHAPTER LXXII. + + Full souls are double mirrors, making still + An endless vista of fair things before, + Repeating things behind. + +Dorothea's impetuous generosity, which would have leaped at once +to the vindication of Lydgate from the suspicion of having +accepted money as a bribe, underwent a melancholy check when she +came to consider all the circumstances of the case by the light +of Mr. Farebrother's experience. + +"It is a delicate matter to touch," he said. "How can we begin +to inquire into it? It must be either publicly by setting the +magistrate and coroner to work, or privately by questioning Lydgate. +As to the first proceeding there is no solid ground to go upon, +else Hawley would have adopted it; and as to opening the subject +with Lydgate, I confess I should shrink from it. He would probably +take it as a deadly insult. I have more than once experienced the +difficulty of speaking to him on personal matters. And--one should +know the truth about his conduct beforehand, to feel very confident +of a good result." + +"I feel convinced that his conduct has not been guilty: I believe that +people are almost always better than their neighbors think they are," +said Dorothea. Some of her intensest experience in the last two +years had set her mind strongly in opposition to any unfavorable +construction of others; and for the first time she felt rather +discontented with Mr. Farebrother. She disliked this cautious +weighing of consequences, instead of an ardent faith in efforts +of justice and mercy, which would conquer by their emotional force. +Two days afterwards, he was dining at the Manor with her uncle +and the Chettams, and when the dessert was standing uneaten, +the servants were out of the room, and Mr. Brooke was nodding +in a nap, she returned to the subject with renewed vivacity. + +"Mr. Lydgate would understand that if his friends hear a calumny +about him their first wish must be to justify him. What do we +live for, if it is not to make life less difficult to each other? +I cannot be indifferent to the troubles of a man who advised me +in MY trouble, and attended me in my illness." + +Dorothea's tone and manner were not more energetic than they +had been when she was at the head of her uncle's table nearly +three years before, and her experience since had given her more +right to express a decided opinion. But Sir James Chettam was no +longer the diffident and acquiescent suitor: he was the anxious +brother-in-law, with a devout admiration for his sister, but with a +constant alarm lest she should fall under some new illusion almost +as bad as marrying Casaubon. He smiled much less; when he said +"Exactly" it was more often an introduction to a dissentient opinion +than in those submissive bachelor days; and Dorothea found to her +surprise that she had to resolve not to be afraid of him--all the +more because he was really her best friend. He disagreed with her now. + +"But, Dorothea," he said, remonstrantly, "you can't undertake +to manage a man's life for him in that way. Lydgate must know-- +at least he will soon come to know how he stands. If he can +clear himself, he will. He must act for himself." + +"I think his friends must wait till they find an opportunity," +added Mr. Farebrother. "It is possible--I have often felt +so much weakness in myself that I can conceive even a man of +honorable disposition, such as I have always believed Lydgate to be, +succumbing to such a temptation as that of accepting money which was +offered more or less indirectly as a bribe to insure his silence +about scandalous facts long gone by. I say, I can conceive this, +if he were under the pressure of hard circumstances--if he had been +harassed as I feel sure Lydgate has been. I would not believe +anything worse of him except under stringent proof. But there is +the terrible Nemesis following on some errors, that it is always +possible for those who like it to interpret them into a crime: +there is no proof in favor of the man outside his own consciousness +and assertion." + +"Oh, how cruel!" said Dorothea, clasping her hands. "And would you +not like to be the one person who believed in that man's innocence, +if the rest of the world belied him? Besides, there is a man's +character beforehand to speak for him." + +"But, my dear Mrs. Casaubon," said Mr. Farebrother, smiling gently +at her ardor, "character is not cut in marble--it is not something +solid and unalterable. It is something living and changing, +and may become diseased as our bodies do." + +"Then it may be rescued and healed," said Dorothea "I should not +be afraid of asking Mr. Lydgate to tell me the truth, that I might +help him. Why should I be afraid? Now that I am not to have +the land, James, I might do as Mr. Bulstrode proposed, and take +his place in providing for the Hospital; and I have to consult +Mr. Lydgate, to know thoroughly what are the prospects of doing +good by keeping up the present plans. There is the best opportunity +in the world for me to ask for his confidence; and he would be able +to tell me things which might make all the circumstances clear. +Then we would all stand by him and bring him out of his trouble. +People glorify all sorts of bravery except the bravery they might +show on behalf of their nearest neighbors." Dorothea's eyes had +a moist brightness in them, and the changed tones of her voice +roused her uncle, who began to listen. + +"It is true that a woman may venture on some efforts of sympathy which +would hardly succeed if we men undertook them," said Mr. Farebrother, +almost converted by Dorothea's ardor. + +"Surely, a woman is bound to be cautious and listen to those who +know the world better than she does." said Sir James, with his +little frown. "Whatever you do in the end, Dorothea, you should +really keep back at present, and not volunteer any meddling with +this Bulstrode business. We don't know yet what may turn up. +You must agree with me?" he ended, looking at Mr. Farebrother. + +"I do think it would be better to wait," said the latter. + +"Yes, yes, my dear," said Mr. Brooke, not quite knowing at what point +the discussion had arrived, but coming up to it with a contribution +which was generally appropriate. "It is easy to go too far, you know. +You must not let your ideas run away with you. And as to being +in a hurry to put money into schemes--it won't do, you know. +Garth has drawn me in uncommonly with repairs, draining, that sort +of thing: I'm uncommonly out of pocket with one thing or another. +I must pull up. As for you, Chettam, you are spending a fortune on +those oak fences round your demesne." + +Dorothea, submitting uneasily to this discouragement, went with +Celia into the library, which was her usual drawing-room. + +"Now, Dodo, do listen to what James says," said Celia, "else you +will be getting into a scrape. You always did, and you always will, +when you set about doing as you please. And I think it is a mercy +now after all that you have got James to think for you. He lets +you have your plans, only he hinders you from being taken in. +And that is the good of having a brother instead of a husband. +A husband would not let you have your plans." + +"As if I wanted a husband!" said Dorothea. "I only want not to +have my feelings checked at every turn." Mrs. Casaubon was still +undisciplined enough to burst into angry tears. + +"Now, really, Dodo," said Celia, with rather a deeper guttural than usual, +"you ARE contradictory: first one thing and then another. +You used to submit to Mr. Casaubon quite shamefully: I think you +would have given up ever coming to see me if he had asked you." + +"Of course I submitted to him, because it was my duty; it was my +feeling for him," said Dorothea, looking through the prism of her tears. + +"Then why can't you think it your duty to submit a little to what +James wishes?" said Celia, with a sense of stringency in her argument. +"Because he only wishes what is for your own good. And, of course, +men know best about everything, except what women know better." +Dorothea laughed and forgot her tears. + +"Well, I mean about babies and those things," explained Celia. +"I should not give up to James when I knew he was wrong, as you used +to do to Mr. Casaubon." + +CHAPTER LXXIII. + + Pity the laden one; this wandering woe + May visit you and me. + +When Lydgate had allayed Mrs. Bulstrode's anxiety by telling her +that her husband had been seized with faintness at the meeting, +but that he trusted soon to see him better and would call again +the next day, unless she-sent for him earlier, he went directly home, +got on his horse, and rode three miles out of the town for the sake +of being out of reach. + +He felt himself becoming violent and unreasonable as if raging +under the pain of stings: he was ready to curse the day on +which he had come to Middlemarch. Everything that bad happened +to him there seemed a mere preparation for this hateful fatality, +which had come as a blight on his honorable ambition, and must make +even people who had only vulgar standards regard his reputation +as irrevocably damaged. In such moments a man can hardly escape +being unloving. Lydgate thought of himself as the sufferer, +and of others as the agents who had injured his lot. He had meant +everything to turn out differently; and others had thrust themselves +into his life and thwarted his purposes. His marriage seemed an +unmitigated calamity; and he was afraid of going to Rosamond before +he had vented himself in this solitary rage, lest the mere sight +of her should exasperate him and make him behave unwarrantably. +There are episodes in most men's lives in which their highest +qualities can only cast a deterring shadow over the objects that fill +their inward vision: Lydgate's tenderheartedness was present just +then only as a dread lest he should offend against it, not as an +emotion that swayed him to tenderness. For he was very miserable. +Only those who know the supremacy of the intellectual life-- +the life which has a seed of ennobling thought and purpose within it-- +can understand the grief of one who falls from that serene activity +into the absorbing soul-wasting struggle with worldly annoyances. + +How was he to live on without vindicating himself among people +who suspected him of baseness? How could he go silently away from +Middlemarch as if he were retreating before a just condemnation? +And yet how was he to set about vindicating himself? + +For that scene at the meeting, which he had just witnessed, +although it had told him no particulars, had been enough to make +his own situation thoroughly clear to him. Bulstrode had been +in dread of scandalous disclosures on the part of Raffles. +Lydgate could now construct all the probabilities of the case. +"He was afraid of some betrayal in my hearing: all he wanted was +to bind me to him by a strong obligation: that was why he passed +on a sudden from hardness to liberality. And he may have tampered +with the patient--he may have disobeyed my orders. I fear he did. +But whether he did or not, the world believes that he somehow or other +poisoned the man and that I winked at the crime, if I didn't help +in it. And yet--and yet he may not be guilty of the last offence; +and it is just possible that the change towards me may have been a +genuine relenting--the effect of second thoughts such as he alleged. +What we call the `just possible' is sometimes true and the thing we +find it easier to believe is grossly false. In his last dealings +with this man Bulstrode may have kept his hands pure, in spite of my +suspicion to the contrary." + +There was a benumbing cruelty in his position. Even if he renounced +every other consideration than that of justifying himself-- +if he met shrugs, cold glances, and avoidance as an accusation, +and made a public statement of all the facts as he knew them, +who would be convinced? It would be playing the part of a fool +to offer his own testimony on behalf of himself, and say, "I did +not take the money as a bribe." The circumstances would always +be stronger than his assertion. And besides, to come forward +and tell everything about himself must include declarations about +Bulstrode which would darken the suspicions of others against him. +He must tell that he had not known of Raffles's existence when he +first mentioned his pressing need of money to Bulstrode, and that +he took the money innocently as a result of that communication, +not knowing that a new motive for the loan might have arisen on +his being called in to this man. And after all, the suspicion +of Bulstrode's motives might be unjust. + +But then came the question whether he should have acted in precisely +the same way if he had not taken the money? Certainly, if Raffles had +continued alive and susceptible of further treatment when he arrived, +and he had then imagined any disobedience to his orders on the part +of Bulstrode, he would have made a strict inquiry, and if his conjecture +had been verified he would have thrown up the case, in spite of his +recent heavy obligation. But if he had not received any money-- +if Bulstrode had never revoked his cold recommendation of bankruptcy-- +would he, Lydgate, have abstained from all inquiry even on finding +the man dead?--would the shrinking from an insult to Bulstrode-- +would the dubiousness of all medical treatment and the argument +that his own treatment would pass for the wrong with most members +of his profession--have had just the same force or significance +with him? + +That was the uneasy corner of Lydgate's consciousness while he +was reviewing the facts and resisting all reproach. If he +had been independent, this matter of a patient's treatment +and the distinct rule that he must do or see done that which he +believed best for the life committed to him, would have been +the point on which he would have been the sturdiest. As it was, +he had rested in the consideration that disobedience to his orders, +however it might have arisen, could not be considered a crime, +that in the dominant opinion obedience to his orders was just as +likely to be fatal, and that the affair was simply one of etiquette. +Whereas, again and again, in his time of freedom, he had denounced +the perversion of pathological doubt into moral doubt and had said-- +"the purest experiment in treatment may still be conscientious: +my business is to take care of life, and to do the best I can +think of for it. Science is properly more scrupulous than dogma. +Dogma gives a charter to mistake, but the very breath of science +is a contest with mistake, and must keep the conscience alive." +Alas! the scientific conscience had got into the debasing company of +money obligation and selfish respects. + +"Is there a medical man of them all in Middlemarch who would question +himself as I do?" said poor Lydgate, with a renewed outburst of +rebellion against the oppression of his lot. "And yet they will all +feel warranted in making a wide space between me and them, as if I +were a leper! My practice and my reputation are utterly damned-- +I can see that. Even if I could be cleared by valid evidence, +it would make little difference to the blessed world here. +I have been set down as tainted and should be cheapened to them +all the same." + +Already there had been abundant signs which had hitherto puzzled him, +that just when he had been paying off his debts and getting cheerfully +on his feet, the townsmen were avoiding him or looking strangely. +at him, and in two instances it came to his knowledge that patients +of his had called in another practitioner. The reasons were too +plain now. The general black-balling had begun. + +No wonder that in Lydgate's energetic nature the sense of a +hopeless misconstruction easily turned into a dogged resistance. +The scowl which occasionally showed itself on his square brow was not +a meaningless accident. Already when he was re-entering the town +after that ride taken in the first hours of stinging pain, he was +setting his mind on remaining in Middlemarch in spite of the worst +that could be done against him. He would not retreat before calumny, +as if he submitted to it. He would face it to the utmost, and no act +of his should show that he was afraid. It belonged to the generosity +as well as defiant force of his nature that he resolved not to shrink +from showing to the full his sense of obligation to Bulstrode. +It was true that the association with this man had been fatal to him-- +true that if he had had the thousand pounds still in his hands with +all his debts unpaid he would have returned the money to Bulstrode, +and taken beggary rather than the rescue which had been sullied with +the suspicion of a bribe (for, remember, he was one of the proudest +among the sons of men)--nevertheless, he would not turn away from +this crushed fellow-mortal whose aid he had used, and make a pitiful +effort to get acquittal for himself by howling against another. +"I shall do as I think right, and explain to nobody. They will try +to starve me out, but--" he was going on with an obstinate resolve, +but he was getting near home, and the thought of Rosamond urged +itself again into that chief place from which it had been thrust +by the agonized struggles of wounded honor and pride. + +How would Rosamond take it all? Here was another weight of chain to drag, +and poor Lydgate was in a bad mood for bearing her dumb mastery. +He had no impulse to tell her the trouble which must soon be common +to them both. He preferred waiting for the incidental disclosure +which events must soon bring about. + +CHAPTER LXXIV. + + "Mercifully grant that we may grow aged together." + --BOOK OF TOBIT: Marriage Prayer. + +In Middlemarch a wife could not long remain ignorant that the town +held a bad opinion of her husband. No feminine intimate might carry +her friendship so far as to make a plain statement to the wife of the +unpleasant fact known or believed about her husband; but when a woman +with her thoughts much at leisure got them suddenly employed on +something grievously disadvantageous to her neighbors, various moral +impulses were called into play which tended to stimulate utterance. +Candor was one. To be candid, in Middlemarch phraseology, meant, +to use an early opportunity of letting your friends know that you +did not take a cheerful view of their capacity, their conduct, +or their position; and a robust candor never waited to be asked for +its opinion. Then, again, there was the love of truth--a wide phrase, +but meaning in this relation, a lively objection to seeing a wife +look happier than her husband's character warranted, or manifest +too much satisfaction in her lot--the poor thing should have some hint +given her that if she knew the truth she would have less complacency +in her bonnet, and in light dishes for a supper-party. Stronger +than all, there was the regard for a friend's moral improvement, +sometimes called her soul, which was likely to be benefited by remarks +tending to gloom, uttered with the accompaniment of pensive staring +at the furniture and a manner implying that the speaker would not tell +what was on her mind, from regard to the feelings of her hearer. +On the whole, one might say that an ardent charity was at work +setting the virtuous mind to make a neighbor unhappy for her good. + +There were hardly any wives in Middlemarch whose matrimonial misfortunes +would in different ways be likely to call forth more of this moral +activity than Rosamond and her aunt Bulstrode. Mrs. Bulstrode +was not an object of dislike, and had never consciously injured any +human being. Men had always thought her a handsome comfortable woman, +and had reckoned it among the signs of Bulstrode's hypocrisy that he +had chosen a red-blooded Vincy, instead of a ghastly and melancholy +person suited to his low esteem for earthly pleasure. When the scandal +about her husband was disclosed they remarked of her--"Ah, poor woman! +She's as honest as the day--SHE never suspected anything wrong +in him, you may depend on it." Women, who were intimate with her, +talked together much of "poor Harriet," imagined what her feelings +must be when she came to know everything, and conjectured how much +she had already come to know. There was no spiteful disposition +towards her; rather, there was a busy benevolence anxious to ascertain +what it would be well for her to feel and do under the circumstances, +which of course kept the imagination occupied with her character +and history from the times when she was Harriet Vincy till now. +With the review of Mrs. Bulstrode and her position it was inevitable +to associate Rosamond, whose prospects were under the same blight +with her aunt's. Rosamond was more severely criticised and less pitied, +though she too, as one of the good old Vincy family who had always +been known in Middlemarch, was regarded as a victim to marriage +with an interloper. The Vincys had their weaknesses, but then they +lay on the surface: there was never anything bad to be "found out" +concerning them. Mrs. Bulstrode was vindicated from any resemblance +to her husband. Harriet's faults were her own. + +"She has always been showy," said Mrs. Hackbutt, making tea for +a small party, "though she has got into the way of putting her +religion forward, to conform to her husband; she has tried to hold +her head up above Middlemarch by making it known that she invites +clergymen and heaven-knows-who from Riverston and those places." + +"We can hardly blame her for that," said Mrs. Sprague; "because few +of the best people in the town cared to associate with Balstrode, +and she must have somebody to sit down at her table." + +"Mr. Thesiger has always countenanced him," said Mrs. Hackbutt. +"I think he must be sorry now." + +"But he was never fond of him in his heart--that every one knows," +said Mrs. Tom Toller. "Mr. Thesiger never goes into extremes. +He keeps to the truth in what is evangelical. It is only clergymen +like Mr. Tyke, who want to use Dissenting hymn-books and that low kind +of religion, who ever found Bulstrode to their taste." + +"I understand, Mr. Tyke is in great distress about him," +said Mrs. Hackbutt. "And well he may be: they say the Bulstrodes +have half kept the Tyke family." + +"And of coarse it is a discredit to his doctrines," said Mrs. Sprague, +who was elderly, and old-fashioned in her opinions. + +"People will not make a boast of being methodistical in Middlemarch +for a good while to come." + +"I think we must not set down people's bad actions to their religion," +said falcon-faced Mrs. Plymdale, who had been listening hitherto. + +"Oh, my dear, we are forgetting," said Mrs. Sprague. "We ought +not to be talking of this before you." + +"I am sure I have no reason to be partial," said Mrs. Plymdale, +coloring. "It's true Mr. Plymdale has always been on good terms +with Mr. Bulstrode, and Harriet Vincy was my friend long before +she married him. But I have always kept my own opinions and told +her where she was wrong, poor thing. Still, in point of religion, +I must say, Mr. Bulstrode might have done what he has, and worse, +and yet have been a man of no religion. I don't say that there +has not been a little too much of that--I like moderation myself. +But truth is truth. The men tried at the assizes are not all +over-religious, I suppose." + +"Well," said Mrs. Hackbutt, wheeling adroitly, "all I can say is, +that I think she ought to separate from him." + +"I can't say that," said Mrs. Sprague. "She took him for better +or worse, you know." + +"But `worse' can never mean finding out that your husband is fit +for Newgate," said Mrs. Hackbutt. "Fancy living with such a man! +I should expect to be poisoned." + +"Yes, I think myself it is an encouragement to crime if such men are +to be taken care of and waited on by good wives," said Mrs. Tom Toller. + +"And a good wife poor Harriet has been," said Mrs. Plymdale. +"She thinks her husband the first of men. It's true he has never +denied her anything." + +"Well, we shall see what she will do," said Mrs. Hackbutt. +"I suppose she knows nothing yet, poor creature. I do hope and trust +I shall not see her, for I should be frightened to death lest I +should say anything about her husband. Do you think any hint has +reached her?" + +"I should hardly think so," said Mrs. Tom Toller. "We hear that he +is ill, and has never stirred out of the house since the meeting +on Thursday; but she was with her girls at church yesterday, +and they had new Tuscan bonnets. Her own had a feather in it. +I have never seen that her religion made any difference in her dress." + +"She wears very neat patterns always," said Mrs. Plymdale, +a little stung. "And that feather I know she got dyed a pale +lavender on purpose to be consistent. I must say it of Harriet +that she wishes to do right." + +"As to her knowing what has happened, it can't be kept from her long," +said Mrs. Hackbutt. "The Vincys know, for Mr. Vincy was at the meeting. +It will he a great blow to him. There is his daughter as well +as his sister." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Sprague. "Nobody supposes that Mr. Lydgate +can go on holding up his head in Middlemarch, things look so black +about the thousand pounds he took just at that man's death. +It really makes one shudder." + +"Pride must have a fall," said Mrs. Hackbutt. + +"I am not so sorry for Rosamond Vincy that was as I am for her aunt," +said Mrs. Plymdale. "She needed a lesson." + +"I suppose the Bulstrodes will go and live abroad somewhere," +said Mrs. Sprague. "That is what is generally done when there is +anything disgraceful in a family." + +"And a most deadly blow it will be to Harriet," said Mrs. Plymdale. +"If ever a woman was crushed, she will be. I pity her from my heart. +And with all her faults, few women are better. From a girl she had +the neatest ways, and was always good-hearted, and as open as the day. +You might look into her drawers when you would--always the same. +And so she has brought up Kate and Ellen. You may think how hard it +will be for her to go among foreigners." + +"The doctor says that is what he should recommend the Lydgates to do," +said Mrs. Sprague. "He says Lydgate ought to have kept among +the French." + +"That would suit HER well enough, I dare say," said Mrs. Plymdale; +"there is that kind of lightness about her. But she got that from +her mother; she never got it from her aunt Bulstrode, who always +gave her good advice, and to my knowledge would rather have had +her marry elsewhere." + +Mrs. Plymdale was in a situation which caused her some complication +of feeling. There had been not only her intimacy with Mrs. Bulstrode, +but also a profitable business relation of the great Plymdale dyeing +house with Mr. Bulstrode, which on the one hand would have inclined +her to desire that the mildest view of his character should be +the true one, but on the other, made her the more afraid of seeming +to palliate his culpability. Again, the late alliance of her family +with the Tollers had brought her in connection with the best circle, +which gratified her in every direction except in the inclination to +those serious views which she believed to be the best in another sense. +The sharp little woman's conscience was somewhat troubled in +the adjustment of these opposing "bests," and of her griefs and +satisfactions under late events, which were likely to humble those +who needed humbling, but also to fall heavily on her old friend whose +faults she would have preferred seeing on a background of prosperity. + +Poor Mrs. Bulstrode, meanwhile, had been no further shaken by the +oncoming tread of calamity than in the busier stirring of that secret +uneasiness which had always been present in her since the last +visit of Raffles to The Shrubs. That the hateful man had come ill +to Stone Court, and that her husband had chosen to remain there +and watch over him, she allowed to be explained by the fact that +Raffles had been employed and aided in earlier-days, and that this +made a tie of benevolence towards him in his degraded helplessness; +and she had been since then innocently cheered by her husband's +more hopeful speech about his own health and ability to continue +his attention to business. The calm was disturbed when Lydgate had +brought him home ill from the meeting, and in spite of comforting +assurances during the next few days, she cried in private from +the conviction that her husband was not suffering from bodily +illness merely, but from something that afflicted his mind. +He would not allow her to read to him, and scarcely to sit with him, +alleging nervous susceptibility to sounds and movements; yet she +suspected that in shutting himself up in his private room he wanted +to be busy with his papers. Something, she felt sure, had happened. +Perhaps it was some great loss of money; and she was kept in the dark. +Not daring to question her husband, she said to Lydgate, on the fifth +day after the meeting, when she had not left home except to go to church-- + +"Mr. Lydgate, pray be open with me: I like to know the truth. +Has anything happened to Mr. Bulstrode?" + +"Some little nervous shock," said Lydgate, evasively. He felt +that it was not for him to make the painful revelation. + +"But what brought it on?" said Mrs. Bulstrode, looking directly +at him with her large dark eyes. + +"There is often something poisonous in the air of public rooms," +said Lydgate. "Strong men can stand it, but it tells on people +in proportion to the delicacy of their systems. It is often +impossible to account for the precise moment of an attack--or rather, +to say why the strength gives way at a particular moment." + +Mrs. Bulstrode was not satisfied with this answer. There remained +in her the belief that some calamity had befallen her husband, +of which she was to be kept in ignorance; and it was in her nature +strongly to object to such concealment. She begged leave for her +daughters to sit with their father, and drove into the town to pay +some visits, conjecturing that if anything were known to have gone +wrong in Mr. Bulstrode's affairs, she should see or hear some sign +of it. + +She called on Mrs. Thesiger, who was not at home, and then +drove to Mrs. Hackbutt's on the other side of the churchyard. +Mrs. Hackbutt saw her coming from an up-stairs window, and remembering +her former alarm lest she should meet Mrs. Bulstrode, felt almost +bound in consistency to send word that she was not at home; +but against that, there was a sudden strong desire within her for +the excitement of an interview in which she was quite determined +not to make the slightest allusion to what was in her mind. + +Hence Mrs. Bulstrode was shown into the drawing-room, and Mrs. Hackbutt +went to her, with more tightness of lip and rubbing of her hands than +was usually observable in her, these being precautions adopted against +freedom of speech. She was resolved not to ask how Mr. Bulstrode was. + +"I have not been anywhere except to church for nearly a week," +said Mrs. Bulstrode, after a few introductory remarks. +"But Mr. Bulstrode was taken so ill at the meeting on Thursday +that I have not liked to leave the house." + +Mrs. Hackbutt rubbed the back of one hand with the palm of the other +held against her chest, and let her eyes ramble over the pattern +on the rug. + +"Was Mr. Hackbutt at the meeting?" persevered Mrs. Bulstrode. + +"Yes, he was," said Mrs. Hackbutt, with the same attitude. +"The land is to be bought by subscription, I believe." + +"Let us hope that there will be no more cases of cholera to be +buried in it," said Mrs. Bulstrode. "It is an awful visitation. +But I always think Middlemarch a very healthy spot. I suppose it +is being used to it from a child; but I never saw the town I should +like to live at better, and especially our end." + +"I am sure I should be glad that you always should live at Middlemarch, +Mrs. Bulstrode," said Mrs. Hackbutt, with a slight sigh. "Still, we +must learn to resign ourselves, wherever our lot may be east. +Though I am sure there will always be people in this town who will +wish you well." + +Mrs. Hackbutt longed to say, "if you take my advice you will part +from your husband," but it seemed clear to her that the poor +woman knew nothing of the thunder ready to bolt on her head, +and she herself could do no more than prepare her a little. +Mrs. Bulstrode felt suddenly rather chill and trembling: there was +evidently something unusual behind this speech of Mrs. Hackbutt's; +but though she had set out with the desire to be fully informed, +she found herself unable now to pursue her brave purpose, and turning +the conversation by an inquiry about the young Hackbutts, she soon +took her leave saying that she was going to see Mrs. Plymdale. +On her way thither she tried to imagine that there might have been +some unusually warm sparring at the meeting between Mr. Bulstrode and +some of his frequent opponents--perhaps Mr. Hackbutt might have been +one of them. That would account for everything. + +But when she was in conversation with Mrs. Plymdale that comforting +explanation seemed no longer tenable. "Selina" received her with a +pathetic affectionateness and a disposition to give edifying answers on +the commonest topics, which could hardly have reference to an ordinary +quarrel of which the most important consequence was a perturbation +of Mr. Bulstrode's health. Beforehand Mrs. Bulstrode had thought +that she would sooner question Mrs. Plymdale than any one else; +but she found to her surprise that an old friend is not always +the person whom it is easiest to make a confidant of: there was +the barrier of remembered communication under other circumstances-- +there was the dislike of being pitied and informed by one who had been +long wont to allow her the superiority. For certain words of mysterious +appropriateness that Mrs. Plymdale let fall about her resolution +never to turn her back on her friends, convinced Mrs. Bulstrode +that what had happened must be some kind of misfortune, and instead +of being able to say with her native directness, "What is it that you +have in your mind?" she found herself anxious to get away before she +had heard anything more explicit. She began to have an agitating +certainty that the misfortune was something more than the mere +loss of money, being keenly sensitive to the fact that Selina now, +just as Mrs. Hackbutt had done before, avoided noticing what she said +about her husband, as they would have avoided noticing a personal blemish. + +She said good-by with nervous haste, and told the coachman to drive +to Mr. Vincy's warehouse. In that short drive her dread gathered +so much force from the sense of darkness, that when she entered +the private counting-house where her brother sat at his desk, +her knees trembled and her usually florid face was deathly pale. +Something of the same effect was produced in him by the sight of her: +he rose from his seat to meet her, took her by the hand, and said, +with his impulsive rashness-- + +"God help you, Harriet! you know all." + +That moment was perhaps worse than any which came after. It contained +that concentrated experience which in great crises of emotion +reveals the bias of a nature, and is prophetic of the ultimate +act which will end an intermediate struggle. Without that memory +of Raffles she might still have thought only of monetary ruin, +but now along with her brother's look and words there darted into +her mind the idea of some guilt in her husband--then, under the +working of terror came the image of her husband exposed to disgrace-- +and then, after an instant of scorching shame in which she felt +only the eyes of the world, with one leap of her heart she was +at his side in mournful but unreproaching fellowship with shame +and isolation. All this went on within her in a mere flash of time-- +while she sank into the chair, and raised her eyes to her brother, +who stood over her. "I know nothing, Walter. What is it?" +she said, faintly. + +He told her everything, very inartificially, in slow fragments, +making her aware that the scandal went much beyond proof, +especially as to the end of Raffles. + +"People will talk," he said. "Even if a man has been acquitted by +a jury, they'll talk, and nod and wink--and as far as the world goes, +a man might often as well be guilty as not. It's a breakdown blow, +and it damages Lydgate as much as Bulstrode. I don't pretend to say +what is the truth. I only wish we had never heard the name of either +Bulstrode or Lydgate. You'd better have been a Vincy all your life, +and so had Rosamond." Mrs. Bulstrode made no reply. + +"But you must bear up as well as you can, Harriet. People don't blame +YOU. And I'll stand by you whatever you make up your mind to do," +said the brother, with rough but well-meaning affectionateness. + +"Give me your arm to the carriage, Walter," said Mrs. Bulstrode. +"I feel very weak." + +And when she got home she was obliged to say to her daughter, "I am +not well, my dear; I must go and lie down. Attend to your papa. +Leave me in quiet. I shall take no dinner." + +She locked herself in her room. She needed time to get used to her +maimed consciousness, her poor lopped life, before she could walk +steadily to the place allotted her. A new searching light had fallen +on her husband's character, and she could not judge him leniently: +the twenty years in which she had believed in him and venerated +him by virtue of his concealments came back with particulars +that made them seem an odious deceit. He had married her with +that bad past life hidden behind him, and she had no faith left +to protest his innocence of the worst that was imputed to him. +Her honest ostentatious nature made the sharing of a merited +dishonor as bitter as it could be to any mortal. + +But this imperfectly taught woman, whose phrases and habits were +an odd patchwork, had a loyal spirit within her. The man whose +prosperity she had shared through nearly half a life, and who +had unvaryingly cherished her--now that punishment had befallen +him it was not possible to her in any sense to forsake him. +There is a forsaking which still sits at the same board and lies +on the same couch with the forsaken soul, withering it the more by +unloving proximity. She knew, when she locked her door, that she +should unlock it ready to go down to her unhappy husband and espouse +his sorrow, and say of his guilt, I will mourn and not reproach. +But she needed time to gather up her strength; she needed to sob +out her farewell to all the gladness and pride of her life. +When she had resolved to go down, she prepared herself by some +little acts which might seem mere folly to a hard onlooker; +they were her way of expressing to all spectators visible or invisible +that she had begun a new life in which she embraced humiliation. +She took off all her ornaments and put on a plain black gown, +and instead of wearing her much-adorned cap and large bows of hair, +she brushed her hair down and put on a plain bonnet-cap, which made +her look suddenly like an early Methodist. + +Bulstrode, who knew that his wife had been out and had come in +saying that she was not well, had spent the time in an agitation +equal to hers. He had looked forward to her learning the truth +from others, and had acquiesced in that probability, as something +easier to him than any confession. But now that he imagined the +moment of her knowledge come, he awaited the result in anguish. +His daughters had been obliged to consent to leave him, and though he +had allowed some food to be brought to him, he had not touched it. +He felt himself perishing slowly in unpitied misery. Perhaps he +should never see his wife's face with affection in it again. +And if he turned to God there seemed to be no answer but the pressure +of retribution. + +It was eight o'clock in the evening before the door opened and his +wife entered. He dared not look up at her. He sat with his eyes +bent down, and as she went towards him she thought he looked smaller-- +he seemed so withered and shrunken. A movement of new compassion +and old tenderness went through her like a great wave, and putting +one hand on his which rested on the arm of the chair, and the other +on his shoulder, she said, solemnly but kindly-- + +"Look up, Nicholas." + +He raised his eyes with a little start and looked at her half +amazed for a moment: her pale face, her changed, mourning dress, +the trembling about her mouth, all said, "I know;" and her hands +and eyes rested gently on him. He burst out crying and they +cried together, she sitting at his side. They could not yet speak +to each other of the shame which she was bearing with him, or of the +acts which had brought it down on them. His confession was silent, +and her promise of faithfulness was silent. Open-minded as she was, +she nevertheless shrank from the words which would have expressed their +mutual consciousness, as she would have shrunk from flakes of fire. +She could not say, "How much is only slander and false suspicion?" +and he did not say, "I am innocent." + +CHAPTER LXXV. + +"Le sentiment de la faussete' des plaisirs presents, et l'ignorance +de la vanite des plaisirs absents, causent l'inconstance."--PASCAL. + +Rosamond had a gleam of returning cheerfulness when the house was freed +from the threatening figure, and when all the disagreeable creditors +were paid. But she was not joyous: her married life had fulfilled +none of her hopes, and had been quite spoiled for her imagination. +In this brief interval of calm, Lydgate, remembering that he had +often been stormy in his hours of perturbation, and mindful of the +pain Rosamond had had to bear, was carefully gentle towards her; +but he, too, had lost some of his old spirit, and he still felt it +necessary to refer to an economical change in their way of living +as a matter of course, trying to reconcile her to it gradually, +and repressing his anger when she answered by wishing that he +would go to live in London. When she did not make this answer, +she listened languidly, and wondered what she had that was worth +living for. The hard and contemptuous words which had fallen from +her husband in his anger had deeply offended that vanity which he +had at first called into active enjoyment; and what she regarded +as his perverse way of looking at things, kept up a secret repulsion, +which made her receive all his tenderness as a poor substitute +for the happiness he had failed to give her. They were at a +disadvantage with their neighbors, and there was no longer any +outlook towards Quallingham--there was no outlook anywhere except +in an occasional letter from Will Ladislaw. She had felt stung and +disappointed by Will's resolution to quit Middlemarch, for in spite +of what she knew and guessed about his admiration for Dorothea, +she secretly cherished the belief that he had, or would necessarily +come to have, much more admiration for herself; Rosamond being one +of those women who live much in the idea that each man they meet +would have preferred them if the preference had not been hopeless. +Mrs. Casaubon was all very well; but Will's interest in her dated before +he knew Mrs. Lydgate. Rosamond took his way of talking to herself, +which was a mixture of playful fault-finding and hyperbolical gallantry, +as the disguise of a deeper feeling; and in his presence she felt +that agreeable titillation of vanity and sense of romantic drama +which Lydgate's presence had no longer the magic to create. +She even fancied--what will not men and women fancy in these matters?-- +that Will exaggerated his admiration for Mrs. Casaubon in order +to pique herself. In this way poor Rosamond's brain had been +busy before Will's departure. He would have made, she thought, +a much more suitable husband for her than she had found in Lydgate. +No notion could have been falser than this, for Rosamond's discontent +in her marriage was due to the conditions of marriage itself, +to its demand for self-suppression and tolerance, and not to the +nature of her husband; but the easy conception of an unreal Better +had a sentimental charm which diverted her ennui. She constructed +a little romance which was to vary the flatness of her life: +Will Ladislaw was always to be a bachelor and live near her, +always to be at her command, and have an understood though never +fully expressed passion for her, which would be sending out lambent +flames every now and then in interesting scenes. His departure +had been a proportionate disappointment, and had sadly increased +her weariness of Middlemarch; but at first she had the alternative +dream of pleasures in store from her intercourse with the family +at Quallingham. Since then the troubles of her married life +had deepened, and the absence of other relief encouraged her regretful +rumination over that thin romance which she had once fed on. +Men and women make sad mistakes about their own symptoms, taking their +vague uneasy longings, sometimes for genius, sometimes for religion, +and oftener still for a mighty love. Will Ladislaw had written +chatty letters, half to her and half to Lydgate, and she had replied: +their separation, she felt, was not likely to be final, and the change +she now most longed for was that Lydgate should go to live in London; +everything would be agreeable in London; and she had set to work +with quiet determination to win this result, when there came a sudden, +delightful promise which inspirited her. + +It came shortly before the memorable meeting at the town-hall, +and was nothing less than a letter from Will Ladislaw to Lydgate, +which turned indeed chiefly on his new interest in plans of colonization, +but mentioned incidentally, that he might find it necessary to pay +a visit to Middlemarch within the next few weeks--a very pleasant +necessity, he said, almost as good as holidays to a schoolboy. +He hoped there was his old place on the rug, and a great deal of +music in store for him. But he was quite uncertain as to the time. +While Lydgate was reading the letter to Rosamond, her face looked +like a reviving flower--it grew prettier and more blooming. +There was nothing unendurable now: the debts were paid, Mr. Ladislaw +was coming, and Lydgate would be persuaded to leave Middlemarch +and settle in London, which was "so different from a provincial town." + +That was a bright bit of morning. But soon the sky became black +over poor Rosamond. The presence of a new gloom in her husband, +about which he was entirely reserved towards her--for he dreaded +to expose his lacerated feeling to her neutrality and misconception-- +soon received a painfully strange explanation, alien to all her +previous notions of what could affect her happiness. In the new +gayety of her spirits, thinking that Lydgate had merely a worse fit +of moodiness than usual, causing him to leave her remarks unanswered, +and evidently to keep out of her way as much as possible, she chose, +a few days after the meeting, and without speaking to him on +the subject, to send out notes of invitation for a small evening party, +feeling convinced that this was a judicious step, since people seemed +to have been keeping aloof from them, and wanted restoring to the +old habit of intercourse. When the invitations had been accepted, +she would tell Lydgate, and give him a wise admonition as to how +a medical man should behave to his neighbors; for Rosamond had +the gravest little airs possible about other people's duties. +But all the invitations were declined, and the last answer came +into Lydgate's hands. + +"This is Chichely's scratch. What is he writing to you about?" +said Lydgate, wonderingly, as he handed the note to her. +She was obliged to let him see it, and, looking at her severely, +he said-- + +"Why on earth have you been sending out invitations without +telling me, Rosamond? I beg, I insist that you will not invite +any one to this house. I suppose you have been inviting others, +and they have refused too." She said nothing. + +"Do you hear me?" thundered Lydgate. + +"Yes, certainly I hear you," said Rosamond, turning her head aside +with the movement of a graceful long-necked bird. + +Lydgate tossed his head without any grace and walked out of the room, +feeling himself dangerous. Rosamond's thought was, that he +was getting more and more unbearable--not that there was any new +special reason for this peremptoriness His indisposition to tell +her anything in which he was sure beforehand that she would not be +interested was growing into an unreflecting habit, and she was in +ignorance of everything connected with the thousand pounds except +that the loan had come from her uncle Bulstrode. Lydgate's odious +humors and their neighbors' apparent avoidance of them had an +unaccountable date for her in their relief from money difficulties. +If the invitations had been accepted she would have gone to invite +her mamma and the rest, whom she had seen nothing of for several days; +and she now put on her bonnet to go and inquire what had become +of them all, suddenly feeling as if there were a conspiracy to leave +her in isolation with a husband disposed to offend everybody. +It was after the dinner hour, and she found her father and mother +seated together alone in the drawing-room. They greeted her with +sad looks, saying "Well, my dear!" and no more. She had never seen +her father look so downcast; and seating herself near him she said-- + +"Is there anything the matter, papa?" + +He did not answer, but Mrs. Vincy said, "Oh, my dear, have you +heard nothing? It won't be long before it reaches you." + +"Is it anything about Tertius?" said Rosamond, turning pale. +The idea of trouble immediately connected itself with what had been +unaccountable to her in him. + +"Oh, my dear, yes. To think of your marrying into this trouble. +Debt was bad enough, but this will be worse." + +"Stay, stay, Lucy," said Mr. Vincy. "Have you heard nothing about +your uncle Bulstrode, Rosamond?" + +"No, papa," said the poor thing, feeling as if trouble were not +anything she had before experienced, but some invisible power +with an iron grasp that made her soul faint within her. + +Her father told her everything, saying at the end, "It's better +for you to know, my dear. I think Lydgate must leave the town. +Things have gone against him. I dare say he couldn't help it. +I don't accuse him of any harm," said Mr. Vincy. He had always before +been disposed to find the utmost fault with Lydgate. + +The shock to Rosamond was terrible. It seemed to her that no lot +could be so cruelly hard as hers to have married a man who had +become the centre of infamous suspicions. In many cases it is +inevitable that the shame is felt to be the worst part of crime; +and it would have required a great deal of disentangling reflection, +such as had never entered into Rosamond's life, for her in these +moments to feel that her trouble was less than if her husband +had been certainly known to have done something criminal. +All the shame seemed to be there. And she had innocently married +this man with the belief that he and his family were a glory to her! +She showed her usual reticence to her parents, and only said, +that if Lydgate had done as she wished he would have left Middlemarch +long ago. + +"She bears it beyond anything," said her mother when she was gone. + +"Ah, thank God!" said Mr. Vincy, who was much broken down. + +But Rosamond went home with a sense of justified repugnance towards +her husband. What had he really done--how had he really acted? +She did not know. Why had he not told her everything? He did not +speak to her on the subject, and of course she could not speak to him. +It came into her mind once that she would ask her father to let +her go home again; but dwelling on that prospect made it seem utter +dreariness to her: a married woman gone back to live with her parents-- +life seemed to have no meaning for her in such a position: +she could not contemplate herself in it. + +The next two days Lydgate observed a change in her, and believed that she +had heard the bad news. Would she speak to him about it, or would she +go on forever in the silence which seemed to imply that she believed +him guilty? We must remember that he was in a morbid state of mind, +in which almost all contact was pain. Certainly Rosamond in this +case had equal reason to complain of reserve and want of confidence +on his part; but in the bitterness of his soul he excused himself;-- +was he not justified in shrinking from the task of telling her, +since now she knew the truth she had no impulse to speak to him? +But a deeper-lying consciousness that he was in fault made +him restless, and the silence between them became intolerable to him; +it was as if they were both adrift on one piece of wreck and looked +away from each other. + +He thought, "I am a fool. Haven't I given up expecting anything? +I have married care, not help." And that evening he said-- + +"Rosamond, have you heard anything that distresses you?" + +"Yes," she answered, laying down her work, which she had been carrying +on with a languid semi-consciousness, most unlike her usual self. + +"What have you heard?" + +"Everything, I suppose. Papa told me." + +"That people think me disgraced?" + +"Yes," said Rosamond, faintly, beginning to sew again automatically. + +There was silence. Lydgate thought, "If she has any trust in me-- +any notion of what I am, she ought to speak now and say that she does +not believe I have deserved disgrace." + +But Rosamond on her side went on moving her fingers languidly. +Whatever was to be said on the subject she expected to come from Tertius. +What did she know? And if he were innocent of any wrong, why did +he not do something to clear himself? + +This silence of hers brought a new rush of gall to that bitter mood +in which Lydgate had been saying to himself that nobody believed +in him--even Farebrother had not come forward. He had begun to +question her with the intent that their conversation should disperse +the chill fog which had gathered between them, but he felt his +resolution checked by despairing resentment. Even this trouble, +like the rest, she seemed to regard as if it were hers alone. +He was always to her a being apart, doing what she objected to. +He started from his chair with an angry impulse, and thrusting his hands +in his pockets, walked up and down the room. There was an underlying +consciousness all the while that he should have to master this anger, +and tell her everything, and convince her of the facts. For he had +almost learned the lesson that he must bend himself to her nature, +and that because she came short in her sympathy, he must give the more. +Soon he recurred to his intention of opening himself: the occasion +must not be lost. If he could bring her to feel with some solemnity +that here was a slander which must be met and not run away from, +and that the whole trouble had come out of his desperate want of money, +it would be a moment for urging powerfully on her that they should be +one in the resolve to do with as little money as possible, so that +they might weather the bad time and keep themselves independent. +He would mention the definite measures which he desired to take, +and win her to a willing spirit. He was bound to try this--and what +else was there for him to do? + +He did not know how long he had been walking uneasily backwards +and forwards, but Rosamond felt that it was long, and wished that he +would sit down. She too had begun to think this an opportunity for +urging on Tertius what he ought to do. Whatever might be the truth +about all this misery, there was one dread which asserted itself. + +Lydgate at last seated himself, not in his usual chair, +but in one nearer to Rosamond, leaning aside in it towards her, +and looking at her gravely before he reopened the sad subject. +He had conquered himself so far, and was about to speak with a sense +of solemnity, as on an occasion which was not to be repeated. +He had even opened his lips, when Rosamond, letting her hands fall, +looked at him and said-- + +"Surely, Tertius--" + +"Well?" + +"Surely now at last you have given up the idea of staying in Middlemarch. +I cannot go on living here. Let us go to London. Papa, and every +one else, says you had better go. Whatever misery I have to put +up with, it will be easier away from here." + +Lydgate felt miserably jarred. Instead of that critical outpouring +for which he had prepared himself with effort, here was the old +round to be gone through again. He could not bear it. With a quick +change of countenance he rose and went out of the room. + +Perhaps if he had been strong enough to persist in his determination +to be the more because she was less, that evening might have had +a better issue. If his energy could have borne down that check, +he might still have wrought on Rosamond's vision and will. +We cannot be sure that any natures, however inflexible or peculiar, +will resist this effect from a more massive being than their own. +They may be taken by storm and for the moment converted, becoming part +of the soul which enwraps them in the ardor of its movement. +But poor Lydgate had a throbbing pain within him, and his energy +had fallen short of its task. + +The beginning of mutual understanding and resolve seemed as far off +as ever; nay, it seemed blocked out by the sense of unsuccessful effort. +They lived on from day to day with their thoughts still apart, +Lydgate going about what work he had in a mood of despair, +and Rosamond feeling, with some justification, that he was +behaving cruelly. It was of no use to say anything to Tertius; +but when Will Ladislaw came, she was determined to tell him everything. +In spite of her general reticence, she needed some one who would +recognize her wrongs. + +CHAPTER LXXVI. + + "To mercy, pity, peace, and love + All pray in their distress, + And to these virtues of delight, + Return their thankfulness. + . . . . . . + For Mercy has a human heart, + Pity a human face; + And Love, the human form divine; + And Peace, the human dress. + --WILLIAM BLAKE: Songs of Innocence. + +Some days later, Lydgate was riding to Lowick Manor, in consequence +of a summons from Dorothea. The summons had not been unexpected, +since it had followed a letter from Mr. Bulstrode, in which he stated +that he had resumed his arrangements for quitting Middlemarch, and must +remind Lydgate of his previous communications about the Hospital, +to the purport of which he still adhered. It had been his duty, +before taking further steps, to reopen the subject with Mrs. Casaubon, +who now wished, as before, to discuss the question with Lydgate. +"Your views may possibly have undergone some change," wrote Mr. Bulstrode; +"but, in that case also, it is desirable that you should lay them +before her." + +Dorothea awaited his arrival with eager interest. Though, in +deference to her masculine advisers, she had refrained from what +Sir James had called "interfering in this Bulstrode business," +the hardship of Lydgate's position was continually in her mind, +and when Bulstrode applied to her again about the hospital, +she felt that the opportunity was come to her which she had been +hindered from hastening. In her luxurious home, wandering under +the boughs of her own great trees, her thought was going out over +the lot of others, and her emotions were imprisoned. The idea +of some active good within her reach, "haunted her like a passion," +and another's need having once come to her as a distinct image, +preoccupied her desire with the yearning to give relief, and made +her own ease tasteless. She was full of confident hope about +this interview with Lydgate, never heeding what was said of his +personal reserve; never heeding that she was a very young woman. +Nothing could have seemed more irrelevant to Dorothea than insistence +on her youth and sex when she was moved to show her human fellowship. + +As she sat waiting in the library, she could do nothing but live through +again all the past scenes which had brought Lydgate into her memories. +They all owed their significance to her marriage and its troubles-- +but no; there were two occasions in which the image of Lydgate +had come painfully in connection with his wife and some one else. +The pain had been allayed for Dorothea, but it had left in her an +awakened conjecture as to what Lydgate's marriage might be to him, +a susceptibility to the slightest hint about Mrs. Lydgate. +These thoughts were like a drama to her, and made her eyes bright, +and gave an attitude of suspense to her whole frame, though she was +only looking out from the brown library on to the turf and the bright +green buds which stood in relief against the dark evergreens. + +When Lydgate came in, she was almost shocked at the change in his face, +which was strikingly perceptible to her who had not seen him for +two months. It was not the change of emaciation, but that effect +which even young faces will very soon show from the persistent presence +of resentment and despondency. Her cordial look, when she put +out her hand to him, softened his expression, but only with melancholy. + +"I have wished very much to see you for a long while, Mr. Lydgate," +said Dorothea when they were seated opposite each other; "but I put +off asking you to come until Mr. Bulstrode applied to me again about +the Hospital. I know that the advantage of keeping the management +of it separate from that of the Infirmary depends on you, or, at least, +on the good which you are encouraged to hope for from having it +under your control. And I am sure you will not refuse to tell me +exactly what you think." + +"You want to decide whether you should give a generous support +to the Hospital," said Lydgate. "I cannot conscientiously +advise you to do it in dependence on any activity of mine. +I may be obliged to leave the town." + +He spoke curtly, feeling the ache of despair as to his being able +to carry out any purpose that Rosamond had set her mind against. + +"Not because there is no one to believe in you?" said Dorothea, +pouring out her words in clearness from a full heart. "I know +the unhappy mistakes about you. I knew them from the first moment +to be mistakes. You have never done anything vile. You would not +do anything dishonorable." + +It was the first assurance of belief in him that had fallen on +Lydgate's ears. He drew a deep breath, and said, "Thank you." +He could say no more: it was something very new and strange in his +life that these few words of trust from a woman should be so much +to him. + +"I beseech you to tell me how everything was," said Dorothea, +fearlessly. "I am sure that the truth would clear you." + +Lydgate started up from his chair and went towards the window, +forgetting where he was. He had so often gone over in his mind +the possibility of explaining everything without aggravating +appearances that would tell, perhaps unfairly, against Bulstrode, +and had so often decided against it--he had so often said to +himself that his assertions would not change people's impressions-- +that Dorothea's words sounded like a temptation to do something +which in his soberness he had pronounced to be unreasonable. + +"Tell me, pray," said Dorothea, with simple earnestness; +"then we can consult together. It is wicked to let people think +evil of any one falsely, when it can be hindered." + +Lydgate turned, remembering where he was, and saw Dorothea's face +looking up at him with a sweet trustful gravity. The presence +of a noble nature, generous in its wishes, ardent in its charity, +changes the lights for us: we begin to see things again in their larger, +quieter masses, and to believe that we too can be seen and judged +in the wholeness of our character. That influence was beginning +to act on Lydgate, who had for many days been seeing all life as one +who is dragged and struggling amid the throng. He sat down again, +and felt that he was recovering his old self in the consciousness +that he was with one who believed in it. + +"I don't want," he said, "to bear hard on Bulstrode, who has lent +me money of which I was in need--though I would rather have gone +without it now. He is hunted down and miserable, and has only a poor +thread of life in him. But I should like to tell you everything. +It will be a comfort to me to speak where belief has gone beforehand, +and where I shall not seem to be offering assertions of my own honesty. +You will feel what is fair to another, as you feel what is fair +to me." + +"Do trust me," said Dorothea; "I will not repeat anything without +your leave. But at the very least, I could say that you have made +all the circumstances clear to me, and that I know you are not in +any way guilty. Mr. Farebrother would believe me, and my uncle, +and Sir James Chettam. Nay, there are persons in Middlemarch to +whom I could go; although they don't know much of me, they would +believe me. They would know that I could have no other motive +than truth and justice. I would take any pains to clear you. +I have very little to do. There is nothing better that I can do +in the world." + +Dorothea's voice, as she made this childlike picture of what she +would do, might have been almost taken as a proof that she could +do it effectively. The searching tenderness of her woman's tones +seemed made for a defence against ready accusers. Lydgate did +not stay to think that she was Quixotic: he gave himself up, +for the first time in his life, to the exquisite sense of leaning +entirely on a generous sympathy, without any check of proud reserve. +And he told her everything, from the time when, under the pressure +of his difficulties, he unwillingly made his first application +to Bulstrode; gradually, in the relief of speaking, getting into +a more thorough utterance of what had gone on in his mind-- +entering fully into the fact that his treatment of the patient +was opposed to the dominant practice, into his doubts at the last, +his ideal of medical duty, and his uneasy consciousness that the +acceptance of the money had made some difference in his private +inclination and professional behavior, though not in his fulfilment +of any publicly recognized obligation. + +"It has come to my knowledge since," he added, "that Hawley sent +some one to examine the housekeeper at Stone Court, and she said +that she gave the patient all the opium in the phial I left, +as well as a good deal of brandy. But that would not have been +opposed to ordinary prescriptions, even of first-rate men. +The suspicions against me had no hold there: they are grounded +on the knowledge that I took money, that Bulstrode had strong +motives for wishing the man to die, and that he gave me the money +as a bribe to concur in some malpractices or other against +the patient--that in any case I accepted a bribe to hold my tongue. +They are just the suspicions that cling the most obstinately, +because they lie in people's inclination and can never be disproved. +How my orders came to be disobeyed is a question to which I don't +know the answer. It is still possible that Bulstrode was innocent +of any criminal intention--even possible that he had nothing to do +with the disobedience, and merely abstained from mentioning it. +But all that has nothing to do with the public belief. It is one of +those cases on which a man is condemned on the ground of his character-- +it is believed that he has committed a crime in some undefined way, +because he had the motive for doing it; and Bulstrode's character +has enveloped me, because I took his money. I am simply blighted-- +like a damaged ear of corn--the business is done and can't +be undone." + +"Oh, it is hard!" said Dorothea. "I understand the difficulty there +is in your vindicating yourself. And that all this should have come +to you who had meant to lead a higher life than the common, and to find +out better ways--I cannot bear to rest in this as unchangeable. +I know you meant that. I remember what you said to me when you first +spoke to me about the hospital. There is no sorrow I have thought +more about than that--to love what is great, and try to reach it, +and yet to fail." + +"Yes," said Lydgate, feeling that here he had found room for the full +meaning of his grief. "I had some ambition. I meant everything to be +different with me. I thought I had more strength and mastery. But +the most terrible obstacles are such as nobody can see except oneself." + +"Suppose," said Dorothea, meditatively,--"suppose we kept on the +Hospital according to the present plan, and you stayed here though +only with the friendship and support of a few, the evil feeling +towards you would gradually die out; there would come opportunities +in which people would be forced to acknowledge that they had been +unjust to you, because they would see that your purposes were pure. +You may still win a great fame like the Louis and Laennec I have +heard you speak of, and we shall all be proud of you," she ended, +with a smile. + +"That might do if I had my old trust in myself," said Lydgate, +mournfully. "Nothing galls me more than the notion of turning round +and running away before this slander, leaving it unchecked behind me. +Still, I can't ask any one to put a great deal of money into a plan +which depends on me." + +"It would be quite worth my while," said Dorothea, simply. "Only think. +I am very uncomfortable with my money, because they tell me I have too +little for any great scheme of the sort I like best, and yet I have +too much. I don't know what to do. I have seven hundred a-year of my +own fortune, and nineteen hundred a-year that Mr. Casaubon left me, +and between three and four thousand of ready money in the bank. +I wished to raise money and pay it off gradually out of my income +which I don't want, to buy land with and found a village which should +be a school of industry; but Sir James and my uncle have convinced +me that the risk would be too great. So you see that what I should +most rejoice at would be to have something good to do with my money: +I should like it to make other people's lives better to them. +It makes me very uneasy--coming all to me who don't want it." + +A smile broke through the gloom of Lydgate's face. The childlike +grave-eyed earnestness with which Dorothea said all this +was irresistible--blent into an adorable whale with her ready +understanding of high experience. (Of lower experience such as +plays a great part in the world, poor Mrs. Casaubon had a very +blurred shortsighted knowledge, little helped by her imagination.) +But she took the smile as encouragement of her plan. + +"I think you see now that you spoke too scrupulously," she said, +in a tone of persuasion. "The hospital would be one good; and making +your life quite whole and well again would be another." + +Lydgate's smile had died away. "You have the goodness as well +as the money to do all that; if it could be done," he said. +"But--" + +He hesitated a little while, looking vaguely towards the window; +and she sat in silent expectation. At last he turned towards her and +said impetuously-- + +"Why should I not tell you?--you know what sort of bond marriage is. +You will understand everything." + +Dorothea felt her heart beginning to beat faster. Had he that +sorrow too? But she feared to say any word, and he went on immediately. + +"It is impossible for me now to do anything--to take any step +without considering my wife's happiness. The thing that I might +like to do if I were alone, is become impossible to me. I can't see +her miserable. She married me without knowing what she was going into, +and it might have been better for her if she had not married me." + +"I know, I know--you could not give her pain, if you were not obliged +to do it," said Dorothea, with keen memory of her own life. + +"And she has set her mind against staying. She wishes to go. +The troubles she has had here have wearied her," said Lydgate, +breaking off again, lest he should say too much. + +"But when she saw the good that might come of staying--"said +Dorothea, remonstrantly, looking at Lydgate as if he had forgotten +the reasons which had just been considered. He did not speak immediately. + +"She would not see it," he said at last, curtly, feeling at first +that this statement must do without explanation. "And, indeed, +I have lost all spirit about carrying on my life here." He paused +a moment and then, following the impulse to let Dorothea see deeper +into the difficulty of his life, he said, "The fact is, this trouble +has come upon her confusedly. We have not been able to speak to +each other about it. I am not sure what is in her mind about it: +she may fear that I have really done something base. It is my fault; +I ought to be more open. But I have been suffering cruelly." + +"May I go and see her?" said Dorothea, eagerly. "Would she accept +my sympathy? I would tell her that you have not been blamable +before any one's judgment but your own. I would tell her that you +shall be cleared in every fair mind. I would cheer her heart. +Will you ask her if I may go to see her? I did see her once." + +"I am sure you may," said Lydgate, seizing the proposition with +some hope. "She would feel honored--cheered, I think, by the proof +that you at least have some respect for me. I will not speak to her +about your coming--that she may not connect it with my wishes at all. +I know very well that I ought not to have left anything to be told +her by others, but--" + +He broke off, and there was a moment's silence. Dorothea refrained +from saying what was in her mind--how well she knew that there +might be invisible barriers to speech between husband and wife. +This was a point on which even sympathy might make a wound. +She returned to the more outward aspect of Lydgate's position, +saying cheerfully-- + +"And if Mrs. Lydgate knew that there were friends who would believe +in you and support you, she might then be glad that you should stay +in your place and recover your hopes--and do what you meant to do. +Perhaps then you would see that it was right to agree with what I +proposed about your continuing at the Hospital. Surely you would, +if you still have faith in it as a means of making your knowledge useful?" + +Lydgate did not answer, and she saw that he was debating with himself. + +"You need not decide immediately," she said, gently. "A few days hence +it will be early enough for me to send my answer to Mr. Bulstrode." + +Lydgate still waited, but at last turned to speak in his most +decisive tones. + +"No; I prefer that there should be no interval left for wavering. +I am no longer sure enough of myself--I mean of what it would be +possible for me to do under the changed circumstances of my life. +It would be dishonorable to let others engage themselves to anything +serious in dependence on me. I might be obliged to go away after all; +I see little chance of anything else. The whole thing is too problematic; +I cannot consent to be the cause of your goodness being wasted. +No--let the new Hospital be joined with the old Infirmary, +and everything go on as it might have done if I had never come. +I have kept a valuable register since I have been there; I shall +send it to a man who will make use of it," he ended bitterly. +"I can think of nothing for a long while but getting an income." + +"It hurts me very much to hear you speak so hopelessly," said Dorothea. +"It would be a happiness to your friends, who believe in your future, +in your power to do great things, if you would let them save you +from that. Think how much money I have; it would be like taking +a burthen from me if you took some of it every year till you got +free from this fettering want of income. Why should not people +do these things? It is so difficult to make shares at all even. +This is one way." + +"God bless you, Mrs. Casaubon!" said Lydgate, rising as if with the +same impulse that made his words energetic, and resting his arm +on the back of the great leather chair he had been sitting in. +"It is good that you should have such feelings. But I am not the man +who ought to allow himself to benefit by them. I have not given +guarantees enough. I must not at least sink into the degradation +of being pensioned for work that I never achieved. It is very clear +to me that I must not count on anything else than getting away +from Middlemarch as soon as I can manage it. I should not be able +for a long while, at the very best, to get an income here, and-- +and it is easier to make necessary changes in a new place. +I must do as other men do, and think what will please the world +and bring in money; look for a little opening in the London crowd, +and push myself; set up in a watering-place, or go to some southern +town where there are plenty of idle English, and get myself puffed,-- +that is the sort of shell I must creep into and try to keep my soul +alive in." + +"Now that is not brave," said Dorothea,--"to give up the fight." + +"No, it is not brave," said Lydgate, "but if a man is afraid +of creeping paralysis?" Then, in another tone, "Yet you have made +a great difference in my courage by believing in me. Everything seems +more bearable since I have talked to you; and if you can clear +me in a few other minds, especially in Farebrother's, I shall be +deeply grateful. The point I wish you not to mention is the fact +of disobedience to my orders. That would soon get distorted. +After all, there is no evidence for me but people's opinion +of me beforehand. You can only repeat my own report of myself." + +"Mr. Farebrother will believe--others will believe," said Dorothea. +"I can say of you what will make it stupidity to suppose that you +would be bribed to do a wickedness." + +"I don't know," said Lydgate, with something like a groan +in his voice. "I have not taken a bribe yet. But there is +a pale shade of bribery which is sometimes called prosperity. +You will do me another great kindness, then, and come to see my wife?" + +"Yes, I will. I remember how pretty she is," said Dorothea, +into whose mind every impression about Rosamond had cut deep. +"I hope she will like me." + +As Lydgate rode away, he thought, "This young creature has a heart +large enough for the Virgin Mary. She evidently thinks nothing +of her own future, and would pledge away half her income at once, +as if she wanted nothing for herself but a chair to sit in from which +she can look down with those clear eyes at the poor mortals who pray +to her. She seems to have what I never saw in any woman before-- +a fountain of friendship towards men--a man can make a friend of her. +Casaubon must have raised some heroic hallucination in her. +I wonder if she could have any other sort of passion for a man? +Ladislaw?--there was certainly an unusual feeling between them. +And Casaubon must have had a notion of it. Well--her love might help +a man more than her money." + +Dorothea on her side had immediately formed a plan of relieving +Lydgate from his obligation to Bulstrode, which she felt sure +was a part, though small, of the galling pressure he had to bear. +She sat down at once under the inspiration of their interview, +and wrote a brief note, in which she pleaded that she had more claim +than Mr. Bulstrode had to the satisfaction of providing the money which +had been serviceable to Lydgate--that it would be unkind in Lydgate +not to grant her the position of being his helper in this small matter, +the favor being entirely to her who had so little that was plainly +marked out for her to do with her superfluous money. He might call +her a creditor or by any other name if it did but imply that he +granted her request. She enclosed a check for a thousand pounds, +and determined to take the letter with her the next day when she +went to see Rosamond. + +CHAPTER LXXVII. + + "And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, + To mark the full-fraught man and best indued + With some suspicion." + --Henry V. + +The next day Lydgate had to go to Brassing, and told Rosamond +that he should be away until the evening. Of late she had +never gone beyond her own house and garden, except to church, +and once to see her papa, to whom she said, "If Tertius goes away, +you will help us to move, will you not, papa? I suppose we shall +have very little money. I am sure I hope some one will help us." +And Mr. Vincy had said, "Yes, child, I don't mind a hundred or two. +I can see the end of that." With these exceptions she had sat +at home in languid melancholy and suspense, fixing her mind on +Will Ladislaw's coming as the one point of hope and interest, +and associating this with some new urgency on Lydgate to make immediate +arrangements for leaving Middlemarch and going to London, till she +felt assured that the coming would be a potent cause of the going, +without at all seeing how. This way of establishing sequences is +too common to be fairly regarded as a peculiar folly in Rosamond. +And it is precisely this sort of sequence which causes the greatest +shock when it is sundered: for to see how an effect may be produced +is often to see possible missings and checks; but to see nothing +except the desirable cause, and close upon it the desirable effect, +rids us of doubt and makes our minds strongly intuitive. That was +the process going on in poor Rosamond, while she arranged all objects +around her with the same nicety as ever, only with more slowness-- +or sat down to the piano, meaning to play, and then desisting, +yet lingering on the music stool with her white fingers suspended +on the wooden front, and looking before her in dreamy ennui. +Her melancholy had become so marked that Lydgate felt a strange +timidity before it, as a perpetual silent reproach, and the strong man, +mastered by his keen sensibilities towards this fair fragile creature +whose life he seemed somehow to have bruised, shrank from her look, +and sometimes started at her approach, fear of her and fear for her +rushing in only the more forcibly after it had been momentarily expelled +by exasperation. + +But this morning Rosamond descended from her room upstairs-- +where she sometimes sat the whole day when Lydgate was out-- +equipped for a walk in the town. She had a letter to post--a letter +addressed to Mr. Ladislaw and written with charming discretion, +but intended to hasten his arrival by a hint of trouble. +The servant-maid, their sole house-servant now, noticed her coming +down-stairs in her walking dress, and thought "there never did +anybody look so pretty in a bonnet poor thing." + +Meanwhile Dorothea's mind was filled with her project of going +to Rosamond, and with the many thoughts, both of the past and the +probable future, which gathered round the idea of that visit. +Until yesterday when Lydgate had opened to her a glimpse +of some trouble in his married life, the image of Mrs. Lydgate +had always been associated for her with that of Will Ladislaw. +Even in her most uneasy moments--even when she had been agitated +by Mrs. Cadwallader's painfully graphic report of gossip-- +her effort, nay, her strongest impulsive prompting, had been towards +the vindication of Will from any sullying surmises; and when, +in her meeting with him afterwards, she had at first interpreted +his words as a probable allusion to a feeling towards Mrs. Lydgate +which he was determined to cut himself off from indulging, she had +had a quick, sad, excusing vision of the charm there might be in his +constant opportunities of companionship with that fair creature, +who most likely shared his other tastes as she evidently did +his delight in music. But there had followed his parting words-- +the few passionate words in which he had implied that she herself +was the object of whom his love held him in dread, that it was his +love for her only which he was resolved not to declare but to carry +away into banishment. From the time of that parting, Dorothea, +believing in Will's love for her, believing with a proud delight in +his delicate sense of honor and his determination that no one should +impeach him justly, felt her heart quite at rest as to the regard he +might have for Mrs. Lydgate. She was sure that the regard was blameless. + +There are natures in which, if they love us, we are conscious +of having a sort of baptism and consecration: they bind us +over to rectitude and purity by their pure belief about us; +and our sins become that worst kind of sacrilege which tears down +the invisible altar of trust. "If you are not good, none is good"-- +those little words may give a terrific meaning to responsibility, +may hold a vitriolic intensity for remorse. + +Dorothea's nature was of that kind: her own passionate faults lay +along the easily counted open channels of her ardent character; +and while she was full of pity for the, visible mistakes of others, +she had not yet any material within her experience for subtle +constructions and suspicions of hidden wrong. But that simplicity +of hers, holding up an ideal for others in her believing conception +of them, was one of the great powers of her womanhood. And it +had from the first acted strongly on Will Ladislaw. He felt, +when he parted from her, that the brief words by which he had tried +to convey to her his feeling about herself and the division which +her fortune made between them, would only profit by their brevity +when Dorothea had to interpret them: he felt that in her mind he +had found his highest estimate. + +And he was right there. In the months since their parting Dorothea +had felt a delicious though sad repose in their relation to each other, +as one which was inwardly whole and without blemish. She had an +active force of antagonism within her, when the antagonism turned +on the defence either of plans or persons that she believed in; +and the wrongs which she felt that Will had received from her husband, +and the external conditions which to others were grounds for +slighting him, only gave the more tenacity to her affection +and admiring judgment. And now with the disclosures about +Bulstrode had come another fact affecting Will's social position, +which roused afresh Dorothea's inward resistance to what was +said about him in that part of her world which lay within park palings. + +"Young Ladislaw the grandson of a thieving Jew pawnbroker" +was a phrase which had entered emphatically into the dialogues +about the Bulstrode business, at Lowick, Tipton, and Freshitt, +and was a worse kind of placard on poor Will's back than the "Italian +with white mice." Upright Sir James Chettam was convinced that his +own satisfaction was righteous when he thought with some complacency +that here was an added league to that mountainous distance between +Ladislaw and Dorothea, which enabled him to dismiss any anxiety +in that direction as too absurd. And perhaps there had been +some pleasure in pointing Mr. Brooke's attention to this ugly bit +of Ladislaw's genealogy, as a fresh candle for him to see his own +folly by. Dorothea had observed the animus with which Will's part +in the painful story had been recalled more than once; but she had +uttered no word, being checked now, as she had not been formerly +in speaking of Will, by the consciousness of a deeper relation +between them which must always remain in consecrated secrecy. +But her silence shrouded her resistant emotion into a more +thorough glow; and this misfortune in Will's lot which, it seemed, +others were wishing to fling at his back as an opprobrium, +only gave something more of enthusiasm to her clinging thought. + +She entertained no visions of their ever coming into nearer union, +and yet she had taken no posture of renunciation. She had accepted +her whole relation to Will very simply as part of her marriage sorrows, +and would have thought it very sinful in her to keep up an inward +wail because she was not completely happy, being rather disposed +to dwell on the superfluities of her lot. She could bear that the +chief pleasures of her tenderness should lie in memory, and the idea +of marriage came to her solely as a repulsive proposition from +some suitor of whom she at present knew nothing, but whose merits, +as seen by her friends, would be a source of torment to her:-- +"somebody who will manage your property for you, my dear," +was Mr. Brooke's attractive suggestion of suitable characteristics. +"I should like to manage it myself, if I knew what to do with it," +said Dorothea. No--she adhered to her declaration that she would +never be married again, and in the long valley of her life which +looked so flat and empty of waymarks, guidance would come as she +walked along the road, and saw her fellow-passengers by the way. + +This habitual state of feeling about Will Ladislaw had been strong. +in all her waking hours since she had proposed to pay a visit +to Mrs. Lydgate, making a sort of background against which she +saw Rosamond's figure presented to her without hindrances to her +interest and compassion. There was evidently some mental separation, +some barrier to complete confidence which had arisen between this +wife and the husband who had yet made her happiness a law to him. +That was a trouble which no third person must directly touch. +But Dorothea thought with deep pity of the loneliness which must +have come upon Rosamond from the suspicions cast on her husband; +and there would surely be help in the manifestation of respect for +Lydgate and sympathy with her. + +"I shall talk to her about her husband," thought Dorothea, as she +was being driven towards the town. The clear spring morning, +the scent of the moist earth, the fresh leaves just showing their +creased-up wealth of greenery from out their half-opened sheaths, +seemed part of the cheerfulness she was feeling from a long conversation +with Mr. Farebrother, who had joyfully accepted the justifying +explanation of Lydgate's conduct. "I shall take Mrs. Lydgate good news, +and perhaps she will like to talk to me and make a friend of me." + +Dorothea had another errand in Lowick Gate: it was about a new +fine-toned bell for the school-house, and as she had to get out +of her carriage very near to Lydgate's, she walked thither across +the street, having told the coachman to wait for some packages. +The street door was open, and the servant was taking the opportunity +of looking out at the carriage which was pausing within sight +when it became apparent to her that the lady who "belonged to it" +was coming towards her. + +"Is Mrs. Lydgate at home?" said Dorothea. + +"I'm not sure, my lady; I'll see, if you'll please to walk in," +said Martha, a little confused on the score of her kitchen apron, +but collected enough to be sure that "mum" was not the right title +for this queenly young widow with a carriage and pair. "Will you +please to walk in, and I'll go and see." + +"Say that I am Mrs. Casaubon," said Dorothea, as Martha moved +forward intending to show her into the drawing-room and then to go +up-stairs to see if Rosamond had returned from her walk. + +They crossed the broader part of the entrance-hall, and turned +up the passage which led to the garden. The drawing-room door +was unlatched, and Martha, pushing it without looking into the room, +waited for Mrs. Casaubon to enter and then turned away, the door +having swung open and swung back again without noise. + +Dorothea had less of outward vision than usual this morning, +being filled with images of things as they had been and were going +to be. She found herself on the other side of the door without +seeing anything remarkable, but immediately she heard a voice +speaking in low tones which startled her as with a sense of dreaming +in daylight, and advancing unconsciously a step or two beyond the +projecting slab of a bookcase, she saw, in the terrible illumination +of a certainty which filled up all outlines, something which made +her pause, motionless, without self-possession enough to speak. + +Seated with his back towards her on a sofa which stood against +the wall on a line with the door by which she had entered, she saw +Will Ladislaw: close by him and turned towards him with a flushed +tearfulness which gave a new brilliancy to her face sat Rosamond, +her bonnet hanging back, while Will leaning towards her clasped +both her upraised hands in his and spoke with low-toned fervor. + +Rosamond in her agitated absorption had not noticed the silently +advancing figure; but when Dorothea, after the first immeasurable +instant of this vision, moved confusedly backward and found herself +impeded by some piece of furniture, Rosamond was suddenly aware +of her presence, and with a spasmodic movement snatched away her +hands and rose, looking at Dorothea who was necessarily arrested. +Will Ladislaw, starting up, looked round also, and meeting Dorothea's +eyes with a new lightning in them, seemed changing to marble: +But she immediately turned them away from him to Rosamond and said +in a firm voice-- + +"Excuse me, Mrs. Lydgate, the servant did not know that you were here. +I called to deliver an important letter for Mr. Lydgate, which I +wished to put into your own hands." + +She laid down the letter on the small table which had checked +her retreat, and then including Rosamond and Will in one distant +glance and bow, she went quickly out of the room, meeting in the +passage the surprised Martha, who said she was sorry the mistress +was not at home, and then showed the strange lady out with an inward +reflection that grand people were probably more impatient than others. + +Dorothea walked across the street with her most elastic step +and was quickly in her carriage again. + +"Drive on to Freshitt Hall," she said to the coachman, and any one looking +at her might have thought that though she was paler than usual she was +never animated by a more self-possessed energy. And that was really +her experience. It was as if she had drunk a great draught of scorn +that stimulated her beyond the susceptibility to other feelings. +She had seen something so far below her belief, that her emotions +rushed back from it and made an excited throng without an object. +She needed something active to turn her excitement out upon. +She felt power to walk and work for a day, without meat or drink. +And she would carry out the purpose with which she had started +in the morning, of going to Freshitt and Tipton to tell Sir James +and her uncle all that she wished them to know about Lydgate, +whose married loneliness under his trial now presented itself to her +with new significance, and made her more ardent in readiness to be +his champion. She had never felt anything like this triumphant power +of indignation in the struggle of her married life, in which there +had always been a quickly subduing pang; and she took it as a sign +of new strength. + +"Dodo, how very bright your eyes are!" said Celia, when Sir James +was gone out of the room. "And you don't see anything you look at, +Arthur or anything. You are going to do something uncomfortable, +I know. Is it all about Mr. Lydgate, or has something else happened?" +Celia had been used to watch her sister with expectation. + +"Yes, dear, a great many things have happened," said Dodo, +in her full tones. + +"I wonder what," said Celia, folding her arms cozily and leaning +forward upon them. + +"Oh, all the troubles of all people on the face of the earth," +said Dorothea, lifting her arms to the back of her head. + +"Dear me, Dodo, are you going to have a scheme for them?" said Celia, +a little uneasy at this Hamlet-like raving. + +But Sir James came in again, ready to accompany Dorothea to the Grange, +and she finished her expedition well, not swerving in her resolution +until she descended at her own door. + +CHAPTER LXXVIII. + + Would it were yesterday and I i' the grave, + With her sweet faith above for monument " + +Rosamond and Will stood motionless--they did not know how long-- +he looking towards the spot where Dorothea had stood, and she looking +towards him with doubt. It seemed an endless time to Rosamond, +in whose inmost soul there was hardly so much annoyance as +gratification from what had just happened. Shallow natures dream +of an easy sway over the emotions of others, trusting implicitly +in their own petty magic to turn the deepest streams, and confident, +by pretty gestures and remarks, of making the thing that is not +as though it were. She knew that Will had received a severe blow, +but she had been little used to imagining other people's states +of mind except as a material cut into shape by her own wishes; +and she believed in her own power to soothe or subdue. Even Tertius, +that most perverse of men, was always subdued in the long-run: +events had been obstinate, but still Rosamond would have said now, +as she did before her marriage, that she never gave up what she had set +her mind on. + +She put out her arm and laid the tips of her fingers on Will's +coat-sleeve. + +"Don't touch me!" he said, with an utterance like the cut of a lash, +darting from her, and changing from pink to white and back again, +as if his whole frame were tingling with the pain of the sting. +He wheeled round to the other side of the room and stood opposite to her, +with the tips of his fingers in his pockets and his head thrown back, +looking fiercely not at Rosamond but at a point a few inches away +from her. + +She was keenly offended, but the Signs she made of this were such +as only Lydgate was used to interpret. She became suddenly quiet +and seated herself, untying her hanging bonnet and laying it down with +her shawl. Her little hands which she folded before her were very cold. + +It would have been safer for Will in the first instance to have taken +up his hat and gone away; but he had felt no impulse to do this; +on the contrary, he had a horrible inclination to stay and shatter +Rosamond with his anger. It seemed as impossible to bear the fatality +she had drawn down on him without venting his fury as it would be +to a panther to bear the javelin-wound without springing and biting. +And yet--how could he tell a woman that he was ready to curse her? +He was fuming under a repressive law which he was forced to acknowledge: +he was dangerously poised, and Rosamond's voice now brought the +decisive vibration. In flute-like tones of sarcasm she said-- + +"You can easily go after Mrs. Casaubon and explain your preference." + +"Go after her!" he burst out, with a sharp edge in his voice. +"Do you think she would turn to look at me, or value any word I ever +uttered to her again at more than a dirty feather?--Explain! How can +a man explain at the expense of a woman?" + +"You can tell her what you please," said Rosamond with more tremor. + +"Do you suppose she would like me better for sacrificing you? +She is not a woman to be flattered because I made myself despicable-- +to believe that I must be true to her because I was a dastard +to you." + +He began to move about with the restlessness of a wild animal +that sees prey but cannot reach it. Presently he burst out again-- + +"I had no hope before--not much--of anything better to come. +But I had one certainty--that she believed in me. Whatever people +had said or done about me, she believed in me.--That's gone! +She'll never again think me anything but a paltry pretence-- +too nice to take heaven except upon flattering conditions, and yet +selling myself for any devil's change by the sly. She'll think +of me as an incarnate insult to her, from the first moment we--" + +Will stopped as if he had found himself grasping something that must +not be thrown and shattered. He found another vent for his rage +by snatching up Rosamond's words again, as if they were reptiles +to be throttled and flung off. + +"Explain! Tell a man to explain how he dropped into hell! +Explain my preference! I never had a PREFERENCE for her, +any more than I have a preference for breathing. No other woman exists +by the side of her. I would rather touch her hand if it were dead, +than I would touch any other woman's living." + +Rosamond, while these poisoned weapons were being hurled at her, +was almost losing the sense of her identity, and seemed to be +waking into some new terrible existence. She had no sense +of chill resolute repulsion, of reticent self-justification +such as she had known under Lydgate's most stormy displeasure: +all her sensibility was turned into a bewildering novelty of pain; +she felt a new terrified recoil under a lash never experienced before. +What another nature felt in opposition to her own was being burnt +and bitten into her consciousness. When Will had ceased to speak +she had become an image of sickened misery: her lips were pale, +and her eyes had a tearless dismay in them. If it had been Tertius +who stood opposite to her, that look of misery would have been +a pang to him, and he would have sunk by her side to comfort her, +with that strong-armed comfort which, she had often held very cheap. + +Let it be forgiven to Will that he had no such movement of pity. +He had felt no bond beforehand to this woman who had spoiled +the ideal treasure of his life, and he held himself blameless. +He knew that he was cruel, but he had no relenting in him yet. + +After he had done speaking, he still moved about, half in absence +of mind, and Rosamond sat perfectly still. At length Will, seeming to +bethink himself, took up his hat, yet stood some moments irresolute. +He had spoken to her in a way that made a phrase of common politeness +difficult to utter; and yet, now that he had come to the point +of going away from her without further speech, he shrank from it +as a brutality; he felt checked and stultified in his anger. +He walked towards the mantel-piece and leaned his arm on it, +and waited in silence for--he hardly knew what. The vindictive fire +was still burning in him, and he could utter no word of retractation; +but it was nevertheless in his mind that having come back to this +hearth where he had enjoyed a caressing friendship he had found. +calamity seated there--he had had suddenly revealed to him a trouble +that lay outside the home as well as within it. And what seemed +a foreboding was pressing upon him as with slow pincers:--that his +life might come to be enslaved by this helpless woman who had thrown +herself upon him in the dreary sadness of her heart. But he was +in gloomy rebellion against the fact that his quick apprehensiveness +foreshadowed to him, and when his eyes fell on Rosamond's blighted +face it seemed to him that he was the more pitiable of the two; +for pain must enter into its glorified life of memory before it can +turn into compassion. + +And so they remained for many minutes, opposite each other, +far apart, in silence; Will's face still possessed by a mute rage, +and Rosamond's by a mute misery. The poor thing had no force to fling +out any passion in return; the terrible collapse of the illusion +towards which all her hope had been strained was a stroke which had +too thoroughly shaken her: her little world was in ruins, and she +felt herself tottering in the midst as a lonely bewildered consciousness. + +Will wished that she would speak and bring some mitigating shadow +across his own cruel speech, which seemed to stand staring at them +both in mockery of any attempt at revived fellowship. But she +said nothing, and at last with a desperate effort over himself, +he asked, "Shall I come in and see Lydgate this evening?" + +"If you like," Rosamond answered, just audibly. + +And then Will went out of the house, Martha never knowing that he +had been in. + +After he was gone, Rosamond tried to get up from her seat, but fell +back fainting. When she came to herself again, she felt too ill +to make the exertion of rising to ring the bell, and she remained +helpless until the girl, surprised at her long absence, thought for +the first time of looking for her in all the down-stairs rooms. +Rosamond said that she had felt suddenly sick and faint, and wanted +to be helped up-stairs. When there she threw herself on the bed +with her clothes on, and lay in apparent torpor, as she had done +once before on a memorable day of grief. + +Lydgate came home earlier than he had expected, about half-past five, +and found her there. The perception that she was ill threw every +other thought into the background. When he felt her pulse, +her eyes rested on him with more persistence than they had done +for a long while, as if she felt some content that he was there. +He perceived the difference in a moment, and seating himself +by her put his arm gently under her, and bending over her said, +"My poor Rosamond! has something agitated you?" Clinging to him +she fell into hysterical sobbings and cries, and for the next hour +he did nothing but soothe and tend her. He imagined that Dorothea +had been to see her, and that all this effect on her nervous system, +which evidently involved some new turning towards himself, +was due to the excitement of the new impressions which that visit +had raised. + +CHAPTER LXXIX. + +"Now, I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended their talk, +they drew nigh to a very miry slough, that was in the midst of the plain; +and they, being heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog. +The name of the slough was Despond."--BUNYAN. + +When Rosamond was quiet, and Lydgate had left her, hoping that she +might soon sleep under the effect of an anodyne, he went into the +drawing-room to fetch a book which he had left there, meaning to spend +the evening in his work-room, and he saw on the table Dorothea's +letter addressed to him. He had not ventured to ask Rosamond if +Mrs. Casaubon had called, but the reading of this letter assured him +of the fact, for Dorothea mentioned that it was to be carried by herself. + +When Will Ladislaw came in a little later Lydgate met him with +a surprise which made it clear that he had not been told of the +earlier visit, and Will could not say, "Did not Mrs. Lydgate +tell you that I came this morning?" + +"Poor Rosamond is ill," Lydgate added immediately on his greeting. + +"Not seriously, I hope," said Will. + +"No--only a slight nervous shock--the effect of some agitation. +She has been overwrought lately. The truth is, Ladislaw, I am an +unlucky devil. We have gone through several rounds of purgatory since +you left, and I have lately got on to a worse ledge of it than ever. +I suppose you are only just come down--you look rather battered-- +you have not been long enough in the town to hear anything?" + +"I travelled all night and got to the White Hart at eight o'clock +this morning. I have been shutting myself up and resting," said Will, +feeling himself a sneak, but seeing no alternative to this evasion. + +And then he heard Lydgate's account of the troubles which Rosamond +had already depicted to him in her way. She had not mentioned +the fact of Will's name being connected with the public story-- +this detail not immediately affecting her--and he now heard it +for the first time. + +"I thought it better to tell you that your name is mixed up +with the disclosures," said Lydgate, who could understand better +than most men how Ladislaw might be stung by the revelation. +"You will be sure to hear it as soon as you turn out into the town. +I suppose it is true that Raffles spoke to you." + +"Yes," said Will, sardonically. "I shall be fortunate if gossip +does not make me the most disreputable person in the whole affair. +I should think the latest version must be, that I plotted with Raffles +to murder Bulstrode, and ran away from Middlemarch for the purpose." + +He was thinking "Here is a new ring in the sound of my name to +recommend it in her hearing; however--what does it signify now?" + +But he said nothing of Bulstrode's offer to him. Will was very +open and careless about his personal affairs, but it was among +the more exquisite touches in nature's modelling of him that he +had a delicate generosity which warned him into reticence here. +He shrank from saying that he had rejected Bulstrode's money, +in the moment when he was learning that it was Lydgate's misfortune +to have accepted it. + +Lydgate too was reticent in the midst of his confidence. He made no +allusion to Rosamond's feeling under their trouble, and of Dorothea +he only said, "Mrs. Casaubon has been the one person to come forward +and say that she had no belief in any of the suspicions against me." +Observing a change in Will's face, he avoided any further mention +of her, feeling himself too ignorant of their relation to each +other not to fear that his words might have some hidden painful +bearing on it. And it occurred to him that Dorothea was the real +cause of the present visit to Middlemarch. + +The two men were pitying each other, but it was only Will who +guessed the extent of his companion's trouble. When Lydgate +spoke with desperate resignation of going to settle in London, +and said with a faint smile, "We shall have you again, old fellow." +Will felt inexpressibly mournful, and said nothing. Rosamond had +that morning entreated him to urge this step on Lydgate; and it +seemed to him as if he were beholding in a magic panorama a future +where he himself was sliding into that pleasureless yielding +to the small solicitations of circumstance, which is a commoner +history of perdition than any single momentous bargain. + +We are on a perilous margin when we begin to look passively at our +future selves, and see our own figures led with dull consent into +insipid misdoing and shabby achievement. Poor Lydgate was inwardly +groaning on that margin, and Will was arriving at it. It seemed +to him this evening as if the cruelty of his outburst to Rosamond +had made an obligation for him, and he dreaded the obligation: +he dreaded Lydgate's unsuspecting good-will: he dreaded his own distaste +for his spoiled life, which would leave him in motiveless levity. + +CHAPTER LXXX. + + "Stern lawgiver! yet thou dost wear + The Godhead's most benignant grace; + Nor know we anything so fair + As is the smile upon thy face; + Flowers laugh before thee on their beds, + And fragrance in thy footing treads; + Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong; + And the most ancient Heavens, through thee, are fresh and strong. + --WORDSWORTH: Ode to Duty. + +When Dorothea had seen Mr. Farebrother in the morning, she had +promised to go and dine at the parsonage on her return from Freshitt. +There was a frequent interchange of visits between her and the +Farebrother family, which enabled her to say that she was not at +all lonely at the Manor, and to resist for the present the severe +prescription of a lady companion. When she reached home and remembered +her engagement, she was glad of it; and finding that she had still +an hour before she could dress for dinner, she walked straight +to the schoolhouse and entered into a conversation with the master +and mistress about the new bell, giving eager attention to their small +details and repetitions, and getting up a dramatic sense that her life +was very busy. She paused on her way back to talk to old Master +Bunney who was putting in some garden-seeds, and discoursed wisely +with that rural sage about the crops that would make the most return +on a perch of ground, and the result of sixty years' experience as +to soils--namely, that if your soil was pretty mellow it would do, +but if there came wet, wet, wet to make it all of a mummy, why then-- + +Finding that the social spirit had beguiled her into being rather late, +she dressed hastily and went over to the parsonage rather earlier +than was necessary. That house was never dull, Mr. Farebrother, +like another White of Selborne, having continually something new +to tell of his inarticulate guests and proteges, whom he was +teaching the boys not to torment; and he had just set up a pair +of beautiful goats to be pets of the village in general, and to +walk at large as sacred animals. The evening went by cheerfully +till after tea, Dorothea talking more than usual and dilating +with Mr. Farebrother on the possible histories of creatures that +converse compendiously with their antennae, and for aught we know +may hold reformed parliaments; when suddenly some inarticulate +little sounds were heard which called everybody's attention. + +"Henrietta Noble," said Mrs. Farebrother, seeing her small sister +moving about the furniture-legs distressfully, "what is the matter?" + +"I have lost my tortoise-shell lozenge-box. I fear the kitten has +rolled it away," said the tiny old lady, involuntarily coutinuing +her beaver-like notes. + +"Is it a great treasure, aunt?" said Mr. Farebrother, putting up +his glasses and looking at the carpet. + +"Mr. Ladislaw gave it me," said Miss Noble. "A German box-- +very pretty, but if it falls it always spins away as far as it can." + +"Oh, if it is Ladislaw's present," said Mr. Farebrother, +in a deep tone of comprehension, getting up and hunting. +The box was found at last under a chiffonier, and Miss Noble +grasped it with delight, saying, "it was under a fender the last time." + +"That is an affair of the heart with my aunt," said Mr. Farebrother, +smiling at Dorothea, as he reseated himself. + +"If Henrietta Noble forms an attachment to any one, Mrs. Casaubon," +said his mother, emphatically,--"she is like a dog--she would take +their shoes for a pillow and sleep the better." + +"Mr. Ladislaw's shoes, I would," said Henrietta Noble. + +Dorothea made an attempt at smiling in return. She was surprised +and annoyed to find that her heart was palpitating violently, +and that it was quite useless to try after a recovery of her +former animation. Alarmed at herself--fearing some further betrayal +of a change so marked in its occasion, she rose and said in a low +voice with undisguised anxiety, "I must go; I have overtired myself." + +Mr. Farebrother, quick in perception, rose and said, "It is true; +you must have half-exhausted yourself in talking about Lydgate. +That sort of work tells upon one after the excitement is over." + +He gave her his arm back to the Manor, but Dorothea did not attempt +to speak, even when he said good-night. + +The limit of resistance was reached, and she had sunk back helpless within +the clutch of inescapable anguish. Dismissing Tantripp with a few faint +words, she locked her door, and turning away from it towards the vacant +room she pressed her hands hard on the top of her head, and moaned out-- + +"Oh, I did love him!" + +Then came the hour in which the waves of suffering shook her too +thoroughly to leave any power of thought. She could only cry +in loud whispers, between her sobs, after her lost belief which she +had planted and kept alive from a very little seed since the days +in Rome--after her lost joy of clinging with silent love and faith +to one who, misprized by others, was worthy in her thought-- +after her lost woman's pride of reigning in his memory--after her sweet +dim perspective of hope, that along some pathway they should meet +with unchanged recognition and take up the backward years as a yesterday. + +In that hour she repeated what the merciful eyes of solitude +have looked on for ages in the spiritual struggles of man-- +she besought hardness and coldness and aching weariness to bring +her relief from the mysterious incorporeal might of her anguish: +she lay on the bare floor and let the night grow cold around her; +while her grand woman's frame was shaken by sobs as if she had been +a despairing child. + +There were two images--two living forms that tore her heart in two, +as if it had been the heart of a mother who seems to see her child +divided by the sword, and presses one bleeding half to her breast +while her gaze goes forth in agony towards the half which is carried +away by the lying woman that has never known the mother's pang. + +Here, with the nearness of an answering smile, here within the +vibrating bond of mutual speech, was the bright creature whom she +had trusted--who had come to her like the spirit of morning visiting +the dim vault where she sat as the bride of a worn-out life; +and now, with a full consciousness which had never awakened before, +she stretched out her arms towards him and cried with bitter +cries that their nearness was a parting vision: she discovered +her passion to herself in the unshrinking utterance of despair. + +And there, aloof, yet persistently with her, moving wherever +she moved, was the Will Ladislaw' who was a changed belief +exhausted of hope, a detected illusion--no, a living man towards +whom there could not yet struggle any wail of regretful pity, +from the midst of scorn and indignation and jealous offended pride. +The fire of Dorothea's anger was not easily spent, and it flamed +out in fitful returns of spurning reproach. Why had he come +obtruding his life into hers, hers that might have been whole +enough without him? Why had he brought his cheap regard and his +lip-born words to her who had nothing paltry to give in exchange? +He knew that he was deluding her--wished, in the very moment +of farewell, to make her believe that he gave her the whole +price of her heart, and knew that he had spent it half before. +Why had he not stayed among the crowd of whom she asked nothing-- +but only prayed that they might be less contemptible? + +But she lost energy at last even for her loud-whispered cries +and moans: she subsided into helpless sobs, and on the cold floor +she sobbed herself to sleep. + +In the chill hours of the morning twilight, when all was dim +around her, she awoke--not with any amazed wondering where she +was or what had happened, but with the clearest consciousness +that she was looking into the eyes of sorrow. She rose, +and wrapped warm things around her, and seated + +herself in a great chair where she had often watched before. +She was vigorous enough to have borne that hard night without feeling +ill in body, beyond some aching and fatigue; but she had waked +to a new condition: she felt as if her soul had been liberated from +its terrible conflict; she was no longer wrestling with her grief, +but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer +in her thoughts. For now the thoughts came thickly. It was not +in Dorothea's nature, for longer than the duration of a paroxysm, +to sit in the narrow cell of her calamity, in the besotted misery +of a consciousness that only sees another's lot as an accident +of its own. + +She began now to live through that yesterday morning deliberately again, +forcing herself to dwell on every detail and its possible meaning. +Was she alone in that scene? Was it her event only? She forced +herself to think of it as bound up with another woman's life--a woman +towards whom she had set out with a longing to carry some clearness +and comfort into her beclouded youth. In her first outleap of jealous +indignation and disgust, when quitting the hateful room, she had +flung away all the mercy with which she had undertaken that visit. +She had enveloped both Will and Rosamond in her burning scorn, and it +seemed to her as if Rosamond were burned out of her sight forever. +But that base prompting which makes a women more cruel to a rival +than to a faithless lover, could have no strength of recurrence +in Dorothea when the dominant spirit of justice within her had once +overcome the tumult and had once shown her the truer measure of things. +All the active thought with which she had before been representing to +herself the trials of Lydgate's lot, and this young marriage union which, +like her own, seemed to have its hidden as well as evident troubles-- +all this vivid sympathetic experience returned to her now as a power: +it asserted itself as acquired knowledge asserts itself and will +not let us see as we saw in the day of our ignorance. She said +to her own irremediable grief, that it should make her more helpful, +instead of driving her back from effort. + +And what sort of crisis might not this be in three lives whose +contact with hers laid an obligation on her as if they had been +suppliants bearing the sacred branch? The objects of her rescue +were not to be sought out by her fancy: they were chosen for her. +She yearned towards the perfect Right, that it might make a +throne within her, and rule her errant will. "What should I do-- +how should I act now, this very day, if I could clutch my own pain, +and compel it to silence, and think of those three?" + +It had taken long for her to come to that question, and there was +light piercing into the room. She opened her curtains, and looked +out towards the bit of road that lay in view, with fields beyond +outside the entrance-gates. On the road there was a man with a bundle +on his back and a woman carrying her baby; in the field she could +see figures moving--perhaps the shepherd with his dog. Far off +in the bending sky was the pearly light; and she felt the largeness +of the world and the manifold wakings of men to labor and endurance. +She was a part of that involuntary, palpitating life, and could +neither look out on it from her luxurious shelter as a mere spectator, +nor hide her eyes in selfish complaining. + +What she would resolve to do that day did not yet seem quite clear, +but something that she could achieve stirred her as with an approaching +murmur which would soon gather distinctness. She took off the clothes +which seemed to have some of the weariness of a hard watching in them, +and began to make her toilet. Presently she rang for Tantripp, +who came in her dressing-gown. + +"Why, madam, you've never been in bed this blessed night," +burst out Tantripp, looking first at the bed and then at Dorothea's face, +which in spite of bathing had the pale cheeks and pink eyelids of a +mater dolorosa. "You'll kill yourself, you WILL. Anybody +might think now you had a right to give yourself a little comfort." + +"Don't be alarmed, Tantripp," said Dorothea, smiling. "I have slept; +I am not ill. I shall be glad of a cup of coffee as soon as possible. +And I want you to bring me my new dress; and most likely I shall want +my new bonnet to-day." + +"They've lain there a month and more ready for you, madam, +and most thankful I shall be to see you with a couple o' pounds' +worth less of crape," said Tantripp, stooping to light the fire. +"There's a reason in mourning, as I've always said; and three folds +at the bottom of your skirt and a plain quilling in your bonnet-- +and if ever anybody looked like an angel, it's you in a net quilling-- +is what's consistent for a second year. At least, that's MY +thinking," ended Tantripp, looking anxiously at the fire; +"and if anybody was to marry me flattering himself I should wear +those hijeous weepers two years for him, he'd be deceived by his +own vanity, that's all." + +"The fire will do, my good Tan," said Dorothea, speaking as she +used to do in the old Lausanne days, only with a very low voice; +"get me the coffee." + +She folded herself in the large chair, and leaned her head against +it in fatigued quiescence, while Tantripp went away wondering +at this strange contrariness in her young mistress--that just the +morning when she had more of a widow's face than ever, she should +have asked for her lighter mourning which she had waived before. +Tantripp would never have found the clew to this mystery. +Dorothea wished to acknowledge that she had not the less an +active life before her because she had buried a private joy; +and the tradition that fresh garments belonged to all initiation, +haunting her mind, made her grasp after even that slight outward +help towards calm resolve. For the resolve was not easy. + +Nevertheless at eleven o'clock she was walking towards Middlemarch, +having made up her mind that she would make as quietly and unnoticeably +as possible her second attempt to see and save Rosamond. + +CHAPTER LXXXI. + + "Du Erde warst auch diese Nacht bestandig, + Und athmest neu erquickt zu meinen Fussen, + Beginnest schon mit Lust mich zu umgeben, + Zum regst und ruhrst ein kraftiges Reschliessen + Zum hochsten Dasein immerfort zu streben. + --Faust: 2r Theil. + +When Dorothea was again at Lydgate's door speaking to Martha, +he was in the room close by with the door ajar, preparing to go out. +He heard her voice, and immediately came to her. + +"Do you think that Mrs. Lydgate can receive me this morning?" +she said, having reflected that it would be better to leave out all +allusion to her previous visit. + +"I have no doubt she will," said Lydgate, suppressing his thought +about Dorothea's looks, which were as much changed as Rosamond's, +"if you will be kind enough to come in and let me tell her that you +are here. She has not been very well since you were here yesterday, +but she is better this morning, and I think it is very likely +that she will be cheered by seeing you again." + +It was plain that Lydgate, as Dorothea had expected, knew nothing +about the circumstances of her yesterday's visit; nay, he appeared +to imagine that she had carried it out according to her intention. +She had prepared a little note asking Rosamond to see her, which she +would have given to the servant if he had not been in the way, +but now she was in much anxiety as to the result of his announcement. + +After leading her into the drawing-room, he paused to take a letter +from his pocket and put it into her hands, saying, "I wrote this +last night, and was going to carry it to Lowick in my ride. +When one is grateful for something too good for common thanks, +writing is less unsatisfactory than speech one does not at least +HEAR how inadequate the words are." + +Dorothea's face brightened. "It is I who have most to thank for, +since you have let me take that place. You HAVE consented?" +she said, suddenly doubting. + +"Yes, the check is going to Bulstrode to-day." + +He said no more, but went up-stairs to Rosamond, who had but lately +finished dressing herself, and sat languidly wondering what she +should do next, her habitual industry in small things, even in the +days of her sadness, prompting her to begin some kind of occupation, +which she dragged through slowly or paused in from lack of interest. +She looked ill, but had recovered her usual quietude of manner, +and Lydgate had feared to disturb her by any questions. He had +told her of Dorothea's letter containing the check, and afterwards +he had said, "Ladislaw is come, Rosy; he sat with me last night; +I dare say he will be here again to-day. I thought he looked rather +battered and depressed." And Rosamond had made no reply. + +Now, when he came up, he said to her very gently, "Rosy, dear, +Mrs. Casaubon is come to see you again; you would like to see her, +would you not?" That she colored and gave rather a startled +movement did not surprise him after the agitation produced by the +interview yesterday--a beneficent agitation, he thought, since it +seemed to have made her turn to him again. + +Rosamond dared not say no. She dared not with a tone of her voice +touch the facts of yesterday. Why had Mrs. Casaubon come again? +The answer was a blank which Rosamond could only fill up +with dread, for Will Ladislaw's lacerating words had made every +thought of Dorothea a fresh smart to her. Nevertheless, in her +new humiliating uncertainty she dared do nothing but comply. +She did not say yes, but she rose and let Lydgate put a light shawl +over her shoulders, while he said, "I am going out immediately." +Then something crossed her mind which prompted her to say, +"Pray tell Martha not to bring any one else into the drawing-room." +And Lydgate assented, thinking that he fully understood this wish. +He led her down to the drawing-room door, and then turned away, +observing to himself that he was rather a blundering husband +to be dependent for his wife's trust in him on the influence of +another woman. + +Rosamond, wrapping her soft shawl around her as she walked +towards Dorothea, was inwardly wrapping her soul in cold reserve. +Had Mrs. Casaubon come to say anything to her about Will? If so, +it was a liberty that Rosamond resented; and she prepared herself +to meet every word with polite impassibility. Will had bruised +her pride too sorely for her to feel any compunction towards +him and Dorothea: her own injury seemed much the greater. +Dorothea was not only the "preferred" woman, but had also a +formidable advantage in being Lydgate's benefactor; and to poor +Rosamond's pained confused vision it seemed that this Mrs. Casaubon-- +this woman who predominated in all things concerning her--must have +come now with the sense of having the advantage, and with animosity +prompting her to use it. Indeed, not Rosamond only, but any one else, +knowing the outer facts of the case, and not the simple inspiration +on which Dorothea acted, might well have wondered why she came. + +Looking like the lovely ghost of herself, her graceful slimness +wrapped in her soft white shawl, the rounded infantine mouth +and cheek inevitably suggesting mildness and innocence, Rosamond +paused at three yards' distance from her visitor and bowed. +But Dorothea, who had taken off her gloves, from an impulse +which she could never resist when she wanted a sense of freedom, +came forward, and with her face full of a sad yet sweet openness, +put out her hand. Rosamond could not avoid meeting her glance, +could not avoid putting her small hand into Dorothea's, which clasped +it with gentle motherliness; and immediately a doubt of her own +prepossessions began to stir within her. Rosamond's eye was quick +for faces; she saw that Mrs. Casaubon's face looked pale and changed +since yesterday, yet gentle, and like the firm softness of her hand. +But Dorothea had counted a little too much on her own strength: +the clearness and intensity of her mental action this morning +were the continuance of a nervous exaltation which made her frame +as dangerously responsive as a bit of finest Venetian crystal; +and in looking at Rosamond, she suddenly found her heart swelling, +and was unable to speak--all her effort was required to keep back tears. +She succeeded in that, and the emotion only passed over her face +like the spirit of a sob; but it added to Rosamond's impression +that Mrs. Casaubon's state of mind must be something quite different +from what she had imagined. + +So they sat down without a word of preface on the two chairs that +happened to be nearest, and happened also to be close together; +though Rosamond's notion when she first bowed was that she should +stay a long way off from Mrs. Casaubon. But she ceased thinking +how anything would turn out--merely wondering what would come. +And Dorothea began to speak quite simply, gathering firmness as she +went on. + +"I had an errand yesterday which I did not finish; that is why I am +here again so soon. You will not think me too troublesome when I +tell you that I came to talk to you about the injustice that has +been shown towards Mr. Lydgate. It will cheer you--will it not?-- +to know a great deal about him, that he may not like to speak +about himself just because it is in his own vindication and to his +own honor. You will like to know that your husband has warm friends, +who have not left off believing in his high character? You will let +me speak of this without thinking that I take a liberty?" + +The cordial, pleading tones which seemed to flow with generous +heedlessness above all the facts which had filled Rosamond's mind +as grounds of obstruction and hatred between her and this woman, +came as soothingly as a warm stream over her shrinking fears. +Of course Mrs. Casaubon had the facts in her mind, but she was +not going to speak of anything connected with them. That relief +was too great for Rosamond to feel much else at the moment. +She answered prettily, in the new ease of her soul-- + +"I know you have been very good. I shall like to hear anything +you will say to me about Tertius." + +"The day before yesterday," said Dorothea, "when I had asked him to +come to Lowick to give me his opinion on the affairs of the Hospital, +he told me everything about his conduct and feelings in this sad event +which has made ignorant people cast suspicions on him. The reason he +told me was because I was very bold and asked him. I believed that he +had never acted dishonorably, and I begged him to tell me the history. +He confessed to me that he had never told it before, not even +to you, because he had a great dislike to say, `I was not wrong,' +as if that were proof, when there are guilty people who will say so. +The truth is, he knew nothing of this man Raffles, or that there +were any bad secrets about him; and he thought that Mr. Bulstrode +offered him the money because he repented, out of kindness, of having +refused it before. All his anxiety about his patient was to treat +him rightly, and he was a little uncomfortable that the case did +not end as he had expected; but he thought then and still thinks +that there may have been no wrong in it on any one's part. And I +have told Mr. Farebrother, and Mr. Brooke, and Sir James Chettam: +they all believe in your husband. That will cheer you, will it not? +That will give you courage?" + +Dorothea's face had become animated, and as it beamed on Rosamond +very close to her, she felt something like bashful timidity before +a superior, in the presence of this self-forgetful ardor. She said, +with blushing embarrassment, "Thank you: you are very kind." + +"And he felt that he had been so wrong not to pour out everything +about this to you. But you will forgive him. It was because he +feels so much more about your happiness than anything else-- +he feels his life bound into one with yours, and it hurts +him more than anything, that his misfortunes must hurt you. +He could speak to me because I am an indifferent person. +And then I asked him if I might come to see you; because I felt +so much for his trouble and yours. That is why I came yesterday, +and why I am come to-day. Trouble is so hard to bear, is it not?-- +How can we live and think that any one has trouble--piercing trouble-- +and we could help them, and never try?" + +Dorothea, completely swayed by the feeling that she was uttering, +forgot everything but that she was speaking from out the heart +of her own trial to Rosamond's. The emotion had wrought itself +more and more into her utterance, till the tones might have gone +to one's very marrow, like a low cry from some suffering creature +in the darkness. And she had unconsciously laid her hand again +on the little hand that she had pressed before. + +Rosamond, with an overmastering pang, as if a wound within her +had been probed, burst into hysterical crying as she had done +the day before when she clung to her husband. Poor Dorothea +was feeling a great wave of her own sorrow returning over her-- +her thought being drawn to the possible share that Will Ladislaw +might have in Rosamond's mental tumult. She was beginning to fear +that she should not be able to suppress herself enough to the end of +this meeting, and while her hand was still resting on Rosamond's lap, +though the hand underneath it was withdrawn, she was struggling +against her own rising sobs. She tried to master herself with +the thought that this might be a turning-point in three lives-- +not in her own; no, there the irrevocable had happened, but-- +in those three lives which were touching hers with the solemn +neighborhood of danger and distress. The fragile creature who was +crying close to her--there might still be time to rescue her from +the misery of false incompatible bonds; and this moment was unlike +any other: she and Rosamond could never be together again with +the same thrilling consciousness of yesterday within them both. +She felt the relation between them to be peculiar enough to give +her a peculiar influence, though she had no conception that the way +in which her own feelings were involved was fully known to Mrs. Lydgate. + +It was a newer crisis in Rosamond's experience than even Dorothea +could imagine: she was under the first great shock that had shattered +her dream-world in which she had been easily confident of herself +and critical of others; and this strange unexpected manifestation +of feeling in a woman whom she had approached with a shrinking +aversion and dread, as one who must necessarily have a jealous hatred +towards her, made her soul totter all the more with a sense that she +had been walking in an unknown world which had just broken in upon her. + +When Rosamond's convulsed throat was subsiding into calm, and she +withdrew the handkerchief with which she had been hiding her face, +her eyes met Dorothea's as helplessly as if they had been blue flowers. +What was the use of thinking about behavior after this crying? +And Dorothea looked almost as childish, with the neglected trace of a +silent tear. Pride was broken down between these two. + +"We were talking about your husband," Dorothea said, with some timidity. +"I thought his looks were sadly changed with suffering the other day. +I had not seen him for many weeks before. He said he had been +feeling very lonely in his trial; but I think he would have borne +it all better if he had been able to be quite open with you." + +"Tertius is so angry and impatient if I say anything," said Rosamond, +imagining that he had been complaining of her to Dorothea. "He ought +not to wonder that I object to speak to him on painful subjects." + +"It was himself he blamed for not speaking," said Dorothea. +"What he said of you was, that he could not be happy in doing anything +which made you unhappy--that his marriage was of course a bond +which must affect his choice about everything; and for that reason he +refused my proposal that he should keep his position at the Hospital, +because that would bind him to stay in Middlemarch, and he would not +undertake to do anything which would be painful to you. He could say +that to me, because he knows that I had much trial in my marriage, +from my husband's illness, which hindered his plans and saddened him; +and he knows that I have felt how hard it is to walk always in fear +of hurting another who is tied to us." + +Dorothea waited a little; she had discerned a faint pleasure stealing +over Rosamond's face. But there was no answer, and she went on, +with a gathering tremor, "Marriage is so unlike everything else. +There is something even awful in the nearness it brings. Even if we +loved some one else better than--than those we were married to, +it would be no use"--poor Dorothea, in her palpitating anxiety, +could only seize her language brokenly--"I mean, marriage drinks +up all our power of giving or getting any blessedness in that sort +of love. I know it may be very dear--but it murders our marriage-- +and then the marriage stays with us like a murder--and everything +else is gone. And then our husband--if he loved and trusted us, +and we have not helped him, but made a curse in his life--" + +Her voice had sunk very low: there was a dread upon her of presuming +too far, and of speaking as if she herself were perfection +addressing error. She was too much preoccupied with her own anxiety, +to be aware that Rosamond was trembling too; and filled with the need +to express pitying fellowship rather than rebuke, she put her hands on +Rosamond's, and said with more agitated rapidity,--"I know, I know that +the feeling may be very dear--it has taken hold of us unawares--it is so +hard, it may seem like death to part with it--and we are weak--I am weak--" + +The waves of her own sorrow, from out of which she was struggling +to save another, rushed over Dorothea with conquering force. +She stopped in speechless agitation. not crying, but feeling +as if she were being inwardly grappled. Her face had become of a +deathlier paleness, her lips trembled, and she pressed her hands +helplessly on the hands that lay under them. + +Rosamond, taken hold of by an emotion stronger than her own-- +hurried along in a new movement which gave all things some new, +awful, undefined aspect--could find no words, but involuntarily +she put her lips to Dorothea's forehead which was very near her, +and then for a minute the two women clasped each other as if they +had been in a shipwreck. + +"You are thinking what is not true," said Rosamond, in an eager +half-whisper, while she was still feeling Dorothea's arms round her-- +urged by a mysterious necessity to free herself from something +that oppressed her as if it were blood guiltiness. + +They moved apart, looking at each other. + +"When you came in yesterday--it was not as you thought," +said Rosamond in the same tone. + +There was a movement of surprised attention in Dorothea She expected +a vindication of Rosamond herself. + +"He was telling me how he loved another woman, that I might know +he could never love me," said Rosamond, getting more and more +hurried as she went on. "And now I think he hates me because-- +because you mistook him yesterday. He says it is through me +that you will think ill of him--think that he is a false person. +But it shall not be through me. He has never had any love for me-- +I know he has not--he has always thought slightly of me. +He said yesterday that no other woman existed for him beside you. +The blame of what happened is entirely mine. He said he could never +explain to you--because of me. He said you could never think well +of him again. But now I have told you, and he cannot reproach me +any more." + +Rosamond had delivered her soul under impulses which she had not +known before. She had begun her confession under the subduing +influence of Dorothea's emotion; and as she went on she had +gathered the sense that she was repelling Will's reproaches, +which were still like a knife-wound within her. + +The revulsion of feeling in Dorothea was too strong to be called joy. +It was a tumult in which the terrible strain of the night and +morning made a resistant pain:--she could only perceive that this +would be joy when she had recovered her power of feeling it. +Her immediate consciousness was one of immense sympathy without cheek; +she cared for Rosamond without struggle now, and responded earnestly +to her last words-- + +"No, he cannot reproach you any more." + +With her usual tendency to over-estimate the good in others, +she felt a great outgoing of her heart towards Rosamond, +for the generous effort which had redeemed her from suffering, +not counting that the effort was a reflex of her own energy. +After they had been silent a little, she said-- + +"You are not sorry that I came this morning?" + +"No, you have been very good to me," said Rosamond. "I did not think +that you would be so good. I was very unhappy. I am not happy now. +Everything is so sad." + +"But better days will come. Your husband will be rightly valued. +And he depends on you for comfort. He loves you best. +The worst loss would be to lose that--and you have not lost it," +said Dorothea. + +She tried to thrust away the too overpowering thought of her +own relief, lest she should fail to win some sign that Rosamond's +affection was yearning back towards her husband. + +"Tertius did not find fault with me, then?" said Rosamond, +understanding now that Lydgate might have said anything to +Mrs. Casaubon, and that she certainly was different from other women. +Perhaps there was a faint taste of jealousy in the question. +A smile began to play over Dorothea's face as she said-- + +"No, indeed! How could you imagine it?" But here the door opened, +and Lydgate entered. + +"I am come back in my quality of doctor," he said. "After I +went away, I was haunted by two pale faces: Mrs. Casaubon looked +as much in need of care as you, Rosy. And I thought that I +had not done my duty in leaving you together; so when I had been +to Coleman's I came home again. I noticed that you were walking, +Mrs. Casaubon, and the sky has changed--I think we may have rain. +May I send some one to order your carriage to come for you?" + +"Oh, no! I am strong: I need the walk," said Dorothea, +rising with animation in her face. "Mrs. Lydgate and I +have chatted a great deal, and it is time for me to go. +I have always been accused of being immoderate and saying too much." + +She put out her hand to Rosamond, and they said an earnest, quiet good-by +without kiss or other show of effusion: there had been between them +too much serious emotion for them to use the signs of it superficially. + +As Lydgate took her to the door she said nothing of Rosamond, +but told him of Mr. Farebrother and the other friends who had +listened with belief to his story. + +When he came back to Rosamond, she had already thrown herself +on the sofa, in resigned fatigue. + +"Well, Rosy," he said, standing over her, and touching her hair, +"what do you think of Mrs. Casaubon now you have seen so much +of her?" + +"I think she must be better than any one," said Rosamond, +"and she is very beautiful. If you go to talk to her so often, +you will be more discontented with me than ever!" + +Lydgate laughed at the "so often." "But has she made you any less +discontented with me?" + +"I think she has," said Rosamond, looking up in his face. +"How heavy your eyes are, Tertius--and do push your hair back." +He lifted up his large white hand to obey her, and felt thankful +for this little mark of interest in him. Poor Rosamond's vagrant +fancy had come back terribly scourged--meek enough to nestle +under the old despised shelter. And the shelter was still there: +Lydgate had accepted his narrowed lot with sad resignation. +He had chosen this fragile creature, and had taken the burthen +of her life upon his arms. He must walk as he could, carrying that +burthen pitifully. + +CHAPTER LXXXII. + + "My grief lies onward and my joy behind." + --SHAKESPEARE: Sonnets. + +Exiles notoriously feed much on hopes, and are unlikely to stay +in banishment unless they are obliged. When Will Ladislaw exiled +himself from Middlemarch he had placed no stronger obstacle to his +return than his own resolve, which was by no means an iron barrier, +but simply a state of mind liable to melt into a minuet with other +states of mind, and to find itself bowing, smiling, and giving +place with polite facility. As the months went on, it had seemed +more and more difficult to him to say why he should not run down +to Middlemarch--merely for the sake of hearing something about Dorothea; +and if on such a flying visit he should chance by some strange +coincidence to meet with her, there was no reason for him to be +ashamed of having taken an innocent journey which he had beforehand +supposed that he should not take. Since he was hopelessly +divided from her, he might surely venture into her neighborhood; +and as to the suspicious friends who kept a dragon watch over her-- +their opinions seemed less and less important with time and change +of air. + +And there had come a reason quite irrespective of Dorothea, which seemed +to make a journey to Middlemarch a sort of philanthropic duty. +Will had given a disinterested attention to an intended settlement +on a new plan in the Far West, and the need for funds in order to +carry out a good design had set him on debating with himself whether +it would not be a laudable use to make of his claim on Bulstrode, +to urge the application of that money which had been offered to himself +as a means of carrying out a scheme likely to be largely beneficial. +The question seemed a very dubious one to Will, and his repugnance +to again entering into any relation with the banker might have made +him dismiss it quickly, if there had not arisen in his imagination +the probability that his judgment might be more safely determined +by a visit to Middlemarch. + +That was the object which Will stated to himself as a reason +for coming down. He had meant to confide in Lydgate, and discuss +the money question with him, and he had meant to amuse himself +for the few evenings of his stay by having a great deal of music +and badinage with fair Rosamond, without neglecting his friends +at Lowick Parsonage:--if the Parsonage was close to the Manor, +that was no fault of his. He had neglected the Farebrothers before +his departure, from a proud resistance to the possible accusation +of indirectly seeking interviews with Dorothea; but hunger tames us, +and Will had become very hungry for the vision of a certain form +and the sound of a certain voice. Nothing, had done instead-- +not the opera, or the converse of zealous politicians, or the flattering +reception (in dim corners) of his new hand in leading articles. + +Thus he had come down, foreseeing with confidence how almost +everything would be in his familiar little world; fearing, indeed, +that there would be no surprises in his visit. But he had found +that humdrum world in a terribly dynamic condition, in which even +badinage and lyrism had turned explosive; and the first day of this +visit had become the most fatal epoch of his life. The next +morning he felt so harassed with the nightmare of consequences-- +he dreaded so much the immediate issues before him--that seeing +while he breakfasted the arrival of the Riverston coach, he went +out hurriedly and took his place on it, that he might be relieved, +at least for a day, from the necessity of doing or saying anything +in Middlemarch. Will Ladislaw was in one of those tangled crises +which are commoner in experience than one might imagine, from the +shallow absoluteness of men's judgments. He had found Lydgate, +for whom he had the sincerest respect, under circumstances which +claimed his thorough and frankly declared sympathy; and the reason why, +in spite of that claim, it would have been better for Will to have +avoided all further intimacy, or even contact, with Lydgate, +was precisely of the kind to make such a course appear impossible. +To a creature of Will's susceptible temperament--without any neutral +region of indifference in his nature, ready to turn everything that +befell him into the collisions of a passionate drama--the revelation +that Rosamond had made her happiness in any way dependent on him was +a difficulty which his outburst of rage towards her had immeasurably +increased for him. He hated his own cruelty, and yet he dreaded +to show the fulness of his relenting: he must go to her again; +the friendship could not be put to a sudden end; and her unhappiness +was a power which he dreaded. And all the while there was no more +foretaste of enjoyment in the life before him than if his limbs +had been lopped off and he was making his fresh start on crutches. +In the night he had debated whether he should not get on the coach, +not for Riverston, but for London, leaving a note to Lydgate +which would give a makeshift reason for his retreat. But there +were strong cords pulling him back from that abrupt departure: +the blight on his happiness in thinking of Dorothea, the crushing +of that chief hope which had remained in spite of the acknowledged +necessity for renunciation, was too fresh a misery for him to +resign himself to it and go straightway into a distance which was +also despair. + +Thus he did nothing more decided than taking the Riverston coach. +He came back again by it while it was still daylight, having made +up his mind that he must go to Lydgate's that evening. +The Rubicon, we know, was a very insignificant stream to look at; +its significance lay entirely in certain invisible conditions. +Will felt as if he were forced to cross his small boundary ditch, +and what he saw beyond it was not empire, but discontented subjection. + +But it is given to us sometimes even in our every-day life to +witness the saving influence of a noble nature, the divine efficacy +of rescue that may lie in a self-subduing act of fellowship. +If Dorothea, after her night's anguish, had not taken that walk +to Rosamond--why, she perhaps would have been a woman who gained +a higher character for discretion, but it would certainly not have +been as well for those three who were on one hearth in Lydgate's +house at half-past seven that evening. + +Rosamond had been prepared for Will's visit, and she received him with a +languid coldness which Lydgate accounted for by her nervous exhaustion, +of which he could not suppose that it had any relation to Will. +And when she sat in silence bending over a bit of work, he innocently +apologized for her in an indirect way by begging her to lean backward +and rest. Will was miserable in the necessity for playing the part +of a friend who was making his first appearance and greeting to Rosamond, +while his thoughts were busy about her feeling since that scene +of yesterday, which seemed still inexorably to enclose them both, +like the painful vision of a double madness. It happened that nothing +called Lydgate out of the room; but when Rosamond poured out the tea, +and Will came near to fetch it, she placed a tiny bit of folded +paper in his saucer. He saw it and secured it quickly, but as he +went back to his inn he had no eagerness to unfold the paper. +What Rosamond had written to him would probably deepen the painful +impressions of the evening. Still, he opened and read it by his +bed-candle. There were only these few words in her neatly flowing hand:-- + +"I have told Mrs. Casaubon. She is not under any mistake about you. +I told her because she came to see me and was very kind. You will +have nothing to reproach me with now. I shall not have made any +difference to you." + +The effect of these words was not quite all gladness. As Will dwelt +on them with excited imagination, he felt his cheeks and ears burning +at the thought of what had occurred between Dorothea and Rosamond-- +at the uncertainty how far Dorothea might still feel her dignity +wounded in having an explanation of his conduct offered to her. +There might still remain in her mind a changed association with him +which made an irremediable difference--a lasting flaw. With active +fancy he wrought himself into a state of doubt little more easy +than that of the man who has escaped from wreck by night and stands +on unknown ground in the darkness. Until that wretched yesterday-- +except the moment of vexation long ago in the very same room and +in the very same presence--all their vision, all their thought of +each other, had been as in a world apart, where the sunshine fell on +tall white lilies, where no evil lurked, and no other soul entered. +But now--would Dorothea meet him in that world again? + +CHAPTER LXXXIII. + + "And now good-morrow to our waking souls + Which watch not one another out of fear; + For love all love of other sights controls, + And makes one little room, an everywhere." + --DR. DONNE. + +On the second morning after Dorothea's visit to Rosamond, she had had +two nights of sound sleep, and had not only lost all traces of fatigue, +but felt as if she had a great deal of superfluous strength-- +that is to say, more strength than she could manage to concentrate +on any occupation. The day before, she had taken long walks +outside the grounds, and had paid two visits to the Parsonage; +but she never in her life told any one the reason why she spent +her time in that fruitless manner, and this morning she was rather +angry with herself for her childish restlessness. To-day was to be +spent quite differently. What was there to be done in the village? +Oh dear! nothing. Everybody was well and had flannel; nobody's pig +had died; and it was Saturday morning, when there was a general +scrubbing of doors and door-stones, and when it was useless to go +into the school. But there were various subjects that Dorothea +was trying to get clear upon, and she resolved to throw herself +energetically into the gravest of all. She sat down in the library +before her particular little heap of books on political economy and +kindred matters, out of which she was trying to get light as to the +best way of spending money so as not to injure one's neighbors, or-- +what comes to the same thing--so as to do them the most good. +Here was a weighty subject which, if she could but lay hold of it, +would certainly keep her mind steady. Unhappily her mind slipped +off it for a whole hour; and at the end she found herself reading +sentences twice over with an intense consciousness of many things, +but not of any one thing contained in the text. This was hopeless. +Should she order the carriage and drive to Tipton? No; for some +reason or other she preferred staying at Lowick. But her vagrant +mind must be reduced to order: there was an art in self-discipline; +and she walked round and round the brown library considering by +what sort of manoeuvre she could arrest her wandering thoughts. +Perhaps a mere task was the best means--something to which she +must go doggedly. Was there not the geography of Asia Minor, +in which her slackness had often been rebuked by Mr. Casaubon? +She went to the cabinet of maps and unrolled one: this morning +she might make herself finally sure that Paphlagonia was not on +the Levantine coast, and fix her total darkness about the Chalybes +firmly on the shores of the Euxine. A map was a fine thing to study +when you were disposed to think of something else, being made up +of names that would turn into a chime if you went back upon them. +Dorothea set earnestly to work, bending close to her map, and uttering +the names in an audible, subdued tone, which often got into a chime. +She looked amusingly girlish after all her deep experience-- +nodding her head and marking the names off on her fingers, +with a little pursing of her lip, and now and then breaking off +to put her hands on each side of her face and say, "Oh dear! +oh dear!" + +There was no reason why this should end any more than a merry-go-round; +but it was at last interrupted by the opening of the door and the +announcement of Miss Noble. + +The little old lady, whose bonnet hardly reached Dorothea's shoulder, +was warmly welcomed, but while her hand was being pressed she made +many of her beaver-like noises, as if she had something difficult +to say. + +"Do sit down," said Dorothea, rolling a chair forward. "Am I +wanted for anything? I shall be so glad if I can do anything." + +"I will not stay," said Miss Noble, putting her hand into her small +basket, and holding some article inside it nervously; "I have left +a friend in the churchyard." She lapsed into her inarticulate sounds, +and unconsciously drew forth the article which she was fingering. +It was the tortoise-shell lozenge-box, and Dorothea felt the color +mounting to her cheeks. + +"Mr. Ladislaw," continued the timid little woman. "He fears he +has offended you, and has begged me to ask if you will see him +for a few minutes." + +Dorothea did not answer on the instant: it was crossing her mind +that she could not receive him in this library, where her husband's +prohibition seemed to dwell. She looked towards the window. +Could she go out and meet him in the grounds? The sky was heavy, +and the trees had begun to shiver as at a coming storm. Besides, +she shrank from going out to him. + +"Do see him, Mrs. Casaubon," said Miss Noble, pathetically; "else I +must go back and say No, and that will hurt him." + +"Yes, I will see him," said Dorothea. "Pray tell him to come." + +What else was there to be done? There was nothing that she longed +for at that moment except to see Will: the possibility of seeing him +had thrust itself insistently between her and every other object; +and yet she had a throbbing excitement like an alarm upon her-- +a sense that she was doing something daringly defiant for his sake. + +When the little lady had trotted away on her mission, Dorothea stood +in the middle of the library with her hands falling clasped +before her, making no attempt to compose herself in an attitude +of dignified unconsciousness. What she was least conscious of just +then was her own body: she was thinking of what was likely to be in +Will's mind, and of the hard feelings that others had had about him. +How could any duty bind her to hardness? Resistance to unjust +dispraise had mingled with her feeling for him from the very first, +and now in the rebound of her heart after her anguish the resistance +was stronger than ever. "If I love him too much it is because he +has been used so ill:"--there was a voice within her saying this +to some imagined audience in the library, when the door was opened, +and she saw Will before her. + +She did not move, and he came towards her with more doubt and timidity +in his face than she had ever seen before. He was in a state +of uncertainty which made him afraid lest some look or word of his +should condemn him to a new distance from her; and Dorothea was afraid +of her OWN emotion. She looked as if there were a spell upon her, +keeping her motionless and hindering her from unclasping her hands, +while some intense, grave yearning was imprisoned within her eyes. +Seeing that she did not put out her hand as usual, Will paused +a yard from her and said with embarrassment, "I am so grateful +to you for seeing me." + +"I wanted to see you," said Dorothea, having no other words at command. +It did not occur to her to sit down, and Will did not give +a cheerful interpretation to this queenly way of receiving him; +but he went on to say what he had made up his mind to say. + +"I fear you think me foolish and perhaps wrong for coming back +so soon. I have been punished for my impatience. You know-- +every one knows now---a painful story about my parentage. I knew +of it before I went away, and I always meant to tell you of it if-- +if we ever met again." + +There was a slight movement in Dorothea, and she unclasped her hands, +but immediately folded them over each other. + +"But the affair is matter of gossip now," Will continued. "I wished +you to know that something connected with it--something which +happened before I went away, helped to bring me down here again. +At least I thought it excused my coming. It was the idea of getting +Bulstrode to apply some money to a public purpose--some money which +he had thought of giving me. Perhaps it is rather to Bulstrode's +credit that he privately offered me compensation for an old injury: +he offered to give me a good income to make amends; but I suppose +you know the disagreeable story?" + +Will looked doubtfully at Dorothea, but his manner was gathering +some of the defiant courage with which he always thought of this +fact in his destiny. He added, "You know that it must be altogether +painful to me." + +"Yes--yes--I know," said Dorothea, hastily. + +"I did not choose to accept an income from such a source. I was +sure that you would not think well of me if I did so," said Will. +Why should he mind saying anything of that sort to her now? +She knew that he had avowed his love for her. "I felt that"-- +he broke off, nevertheless. + +"You acted as I should have expected you to act," said Dorothea, +her face brightening and her head becoming a little more erect on +its beautiful stem. + +"I did not believe that you would let any circumstance of my birth +create a prejudice in you against me, though it was sure to do so +in others," said Will, shaking his head backward in his old way, +and looking with a grave appeal into her eyes. + +"If it were a new hardship it would be a new reason for me to cling +to you," said Dorothea, fervidly. "Nothing could have changed +me but--"her heart was swelling, and it was difficult to go on; +she made a great effort over herself to say in a low tremulous voice, +"but thinking that you were different--not so good as I had believed +you to be." + +"You are sure to believe me better than I am in everything but one," +said Will, giving way to his own feeling in the evidence of hers. +"I mean, in my truth to you. When I thought you doubted of that, +I didn't care about anything that was left. I thought it was +all over with me, and there was nothing to try for--only things +to endure." + +"I don't doubt you any longer," said Dorothea, putting out her hand; +a vague fear for him impelling her unutterable affection. + +He took her hand and raised it to his lips with something like a sob. +But he stood with his hat and gloves in the other hand, and might +have done for the portrait of a Royalist. Still it was difficult +to loose the hand, and Dorothea, withdrawing it in a confusion +that distressed her, looked and moved away. + +"See how dark the clouds have become, and how the trees are tossed," +she said, walking towards the window, yet speaking and moving with +only a dim sense of what she was doing. + +Will followed her at a little distance, and leaned against the tall back +of a leather chair, on which he ventured now to lay his hat and gloves, +and free himself from the intolerable durance of formality to which +he had been for the first time condemned in Dorothea's presence. +It must be confessed that he felt very happy at that moment leaning +on the chair. He was not much afraid of anything that she might feel now. + +They stood silent, not looking at each other, but looking +at the evergreens which were being tossed, and were showing +the pale underside of their leaves against the blackening sky. +Will never enjoyed the prospect of a storm so much: it delivered +him from the necessity of going away. Leaves and little branches +were hurled about, and the thunder was getting nearer. The light +was more and more sombre, but there came a flash of lightning +which made them start and look at each other, and then smile. +Dorothea began to say what she had been thinking of. + +"That was a wrong thing for you to say, that you would have +had nothing to try for. If we had lost our own chief good, +other people's good would remain, and that is worth trying for. +Some can be happy. I seemed to see that more clearly than ever, +when I was the most wretched. I can hardly think how I could have +borne the trouble, if that feeling had not come to me to make strength." + +"You have never felt the sort of misery I felt," said Will; +"the misery of knowing that you must despise me." + +"But I have felt worse--it was worse to think ill--" Dorothea +had begun impetuously, but broke off. + +Will colored. He had the sense that whatever she said was uttered +in the vision of a fatality that kept them apart. He was silent +a moment, and then said passionately-- + +"We may at least have the comfort of speaking to each other +without disguise. Since I must go away--since we must always +be divided--you may think of me as one on the brink of the grave." + +While he was speaking there came a vivid flash of lightning which lit +each of them up for the other--and the light seemed to be the terror +of a hopeless love. Dorothea darted instantaneously from the window; +Will followed her, seizing her hand with a spasmodic movement; +and so they stood, with their hands clasped, like two children, +looking out on the storm, while the thunder gave a tremendous crack +and roll above them, and the rain began to pour down. Then they +turned their faces towards each other, with the memory of his last +words in them, and they did not loose each other's hands. + +"There is no hope for me," said Will. "Even if you loved +me as well as I love you--even if I were everything to you-- +I shall most likely always be very poor: on a sober calculation, +one can count on nothing but a creeping lot. It is impossible +for us ever to belong to each other. It is perhaps base of me +to have asked for a word from you. I meant to go away into silence, +but I have not been able to do what I meant." + +"Don't be sorry," said Dorothea, in her clear tender tones. +"I would rather share all the trouble of our parting." + +Her lips trembled, and so did his. It was never known which lips were +the first to move towards the other lips; but they kissed tremblingly, +and then they moved apart. + +The rain was dashing against the window-panes as if an angry spirit +were within it, and behind it was the great swoop of the wind; +it was one of those moments in which both the busy and the idle +pause with a certain awe. + +Dorothea sat down on the seat nearest to her, a long low ottoman +in the middle of the room, and with her hands folded over each +other on her lap, looked at the drear outer world. Will stood +still an instant looking at her, then seated himself beside her, +and laid his hand on hers, which turned itself upward to be clasped. +They sat in that way without looking at each other, until the rain +abated and began to fall in stillness. Each had been full of thoughts +which neither of them could begin to utter. + +But when the rain was quiet, Dorothea turned to look at Will. +With passionate exclamation, as if some torture screw were +threatening him, he started up and said, "It is impossible!" + +He went and leaned on the back of the chair again, and seemed to be +battling with his own anger, while she looked towards him sadly. + +"It is as fatal as a murder or any other horror that divides people," +he burst out again; "it is more intolerable--to have our life maimed +by petty accidents." + +"No--don't say that--your life need not be maimed," said Dorothea, gently. + +"Yes, it must," said Will, angrily. "It is cruel of you to speak +in that way--as if there were any comfort. You may see beyond +the misery of it, but I don't. It is unkind--it is throwing back +my love for you as if it were a trifle, to speak in that way +in the face of the fact. We can never be married." + +"Some time--we might," said Dorothea, in a trembling voice. + +"When?" said Will, bitterly. "What is the use of counting on +any success of mine? It is a mere toss up whether I shall ever +do more than keep myself decently, unless I choose to sell myself +as a mere pen and a mouthpiece. I can see that clearly enough. +I could not offer myself to any woman, even if she had no luxuries +to renounce." + +There was silence. Dorothea's heart was full of something that she +wanted to say, and yet the words were too difficult. She was wholly +possessed by them: at that moment debate was mute within her. +And it was very hard that she could not say what she wanted to say. +Will was looking out of the window angrily. If he would have looked +at her and not gone away from her side, she thought everything +would have been easier. At last he turned, still resting against +the chair, and stretching his hand automatically towards his hat, +said with a sort of exasperation, "Good-by." + +"Oh, I cannot bear it--my heart will break," said Dorothea, +starting from her seat, the flood of her young passion bearing down +all the obstructions which had kept her silent--the great tears +rising and falling in an instant:"I don't mind about poverty-- +I hate my wealth." + +In an instant Will was close to her and had his arms round her, +but she drew her head back and held his away gently that she might go +on speaking, her large tear-filled eyes looking at his very simply, +while she said in a sobbing childlike way, "We could live quite +well on my own fortune--it is too much--seven hundred a-year--I want +so little--no new clothes--and I will learn what everything costs." + +CHAPTER LXXXIV. + + "Though it be songe of old and yonge, + That I sholde be to blame, + Theyrs be the charge, that spoke so large + In hurtynge of my name." + --The Not-browne Mayde. + +It was just after the Lords had thrown out the Reform Bill: +that explains how Mr. Cadwallader came to be walking on the +slope of the lawn near the great conservatory at Freshitt Hall, +holding the "Times" in his hands behind him, while he talked +with a trout-fisher's dispassionateness about the prospects +of the country to Sir James Chettam. Mrs. Cadwallader, +the Dowager Lady Chettam, and Celia were sometimes seated on +garden-chairs, sometimes walking to meet little Arthur, who was +being drawn in his chariot, and, as became the infantine Bouddha, +was sheltered by his sacred umbrella with handsome silken fringe. + +The ladies also talked politics, though more fitfully. +Mrs. Cadwallader was strong on the intended creation of peers: +she had it for certain from her cousin that Truberry had gone +over to the other side entirely at the instigation of his wife, +who had scented peerages in the air from the very first introduction +of the Reform question, and would sign her soul away to take precedence +of her younger sister, who had married a baronet. Lady Chettam +thought that such conduct was very reprehensible, and remembered +that Mrs. Truberry's mother was a Miss Walsingham of Melspring. +Celia confessed it was nicer to be "Lady" than "Mrs.," and that Dodo +never minded about precedence if she could have her own way. +Mrs. Cadwallader held that it was a poor satisfaction to take +precedence when everybody about you knew that you had not a drop +of good blood in your veins; and Celia again, stopping to look +at Arthur, said, "It would be very nice, though, if he were a Viscount-- +and his lordship's little tooth coming through! He might have been, +if James had been an Earl." + +"My dear Celia," said the Dowager, "James's title is worth far more +than any new earldom. I never wished his father to be anything +else than Sir James." + +"Oh, I only meant about Arthur's little tooth," said Celia, +comfortably. "But see, here is my uncle coming." + +She tripped off to meet her uncle, while Sir James and Mr. Cadwallader +came forward to make one group with the ladies. Celia had slipped +her arm through her uncle's, and he patted her hand with a rather +melancholy "Well, my dear!" As they approached, it was evident +that Mr. Brooke was looking dejected, but this was fully accounted +for by the state of politics; and as he was shaking hands all round +without more greeting than a "Well, you're all here, you know," +the Rector said, laughingly-- + +"Don't take the throwing out of the Bill so much to heart, Brooke; +you've got all the riff-raff of the country on your side." + +"The Bill, eh? ah!" said Mr. Brooke, with a mild distractedness +of manner. "Thrown out, you know, eh? The Lords are going +too far, though. They'll have to pull up. Sad news, you know. +I mean, here at home--sad news. But you must not blame me, Chettam." + +"What is the matter?" said Sir James. "Not another gamekeeper shot, +I hope? It's what I should expect, when a fellow like Trapping Bass +is let off so easily." + +"Gamekeeper? No. Let us go in; I can tell you all in the house, +you know," said Mr. Brooke, nodding at the Cadwalladers, to show +that he included them in his confidence. "As to poachers like +Trapping Bass, you know, Chettam," he continued, as they were entering, +"when you are a magistrate, you'll not find it so easy to commit. +Severity is all very well, but it's a great deal easier when you've +got somebody to do it for you. You have a soft place in your +heart yourself, you know--you're not a Draco, a Jeffreys, that sort +of thing." + +Mr. Brooke was evidently in a state of nervous perturbation. +When he had something painful to tell, it was usually his way +to introduce it among a number of disjointed particulars, as if it +were a medicine that would get a milder flavor by mixing He continued +his chat with Sir James about the poachers until they were all seated, +and Mrs. Cadwallader, impatient of this drivelling, said-- + +"I'm dying to know the sad news. The gamekeeper is not shot: +that is settled. What is it, then?" + +"Well, it's a very trying thing, you know," said Mr. Brooke. +"I'm glad you and the Rector are here; it's a family matter-- +but you will help us all to bear it, Cadwallader. I've got +to break it to you, my dear." Here Mr. Brooke looked at Celia-- +"You've no notion what it is, you know. And, Chettam, it will annoy +you uncommonly--but, you see, you have not been able to hinder it, +any more than I have. There's something singular in things: +they come round, you know." + +"It must be about Dodo," said Celia, who had been used to think +of her sister as the dangerous part of the family machinery. +She had seated herself on a low stool against her husband's knee. + +"For God's sake let us hear what it is!" said Sir James. + +"Well, you know, Chettam, I couldn't help Casaubon's will: +it was a sort of will to make things worse." + +"Exactly," said Sir James, hastily. "But WHAT is worse?" + +"Dorothea is going to be married again, you know," said Mr. Brooke, +nodding towards Celia, who immediately looked up at her husband +with a frightened glance, and put her hand on his knee. Sir James +was almost white with anger, but he did not speak. + +"Merciful heaven!" said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Not to YOUNG Ladislaw?" + +Mr. Brooke nodded, saying, "Yes; to Ladislaw," and then fell into +a prudential silence. + +"You see, Humphrey!" said Mrs. Cadwallader, waving her arm towards +her husband. "Another time you will admit that I have some foresight; +or rather you will contradict me and be just as blind as ever. +YOU supposed that the young gentleman was gone out of the country." + +"So he might be, and yet come back," said the Rector, quietly + +"When did you learn this?" said Sir James, not liking to hear +any one else speak, though finding it difficult to speak himself. + +"Yesterday," said Mr. Brooke, meekly. "I went to Lowick. +Dorothea sent for me, you know. It had come about quite suddenly-- +neither of them had any idea two days ago--not any idea, you know. +There's something singular in things. But Dorothea is quite +determined--it is no use opposing. I put it strongly to her. +I did my duty, Chettam. But she can act as she likes, you know." + +"It would have been better if I had called him out and shot +him a year ago," said Sir James, not from bloody-mindedness, +but because he needed something strong to say. + +"Really, James, that would have been very disagreeable," said Celia. + +"Be reasonable, Chettam. Look at the affair more quietly," +said Mr. Cadwallader, sorry to see his good-natured friend +so overmastered by anger. + +"That is not so very easy for a man of any dignity--with any +sense of right--when the affair happens to be in his own family," +said Sir James, still in his white indignation. "It is +perfectly scandalous. If Ladislaw had had a spark of honor he would +have gone out of the country at once, and never shown his face +in it again. However, I am not surprised. The day after Casaubon's +funeral I said what ought to be done. But I was not listened to." + +"You wanted what was impossible, you know, Chettam," said Mr. Brooke. +"You wanted him shipped off. I told you Ladislaw was not to be done +as we liked with: he had his ideas. He was a remarkable fellow-- +I always said he was a remarkable fellow." + +"Yes," said Sir James, unable to repress a retort, "it is rather +a pity you formed that high opinion of him. We are indebted to that +for his being lodged in this neighborhood. We are indebted to that +for seeing a woman like Dorothea degrading herself by marrying him." +Sir James made little stoppages between his clauses, the words +not coming easily. "A man so marked out by her husband's will, +that delicacy ought to have forbidden her from seeing him again-- +who takes her out of her proper rank--into poverty--has the meanness +to accept such a sacrifice--has always had an objectionable position-- +a bad origin--and, I BELIEVE, is a man of little principle and +light character. That is my opinion." Sir James ended emphatically, +turning aside and crossing his leg. + +"I pointed everything out to her," said Mr. Brooke, apologetically-- +"I mean the poverty, and abandoning her position. I said, `My dear, +you don't know what it is to live on seven hundred a-year, +and have no carriage, and that kind of thing, and go amongst +people who don't know who you are.' I put it strongly to her. +But I advise you to talk to Dorothea herself. The fact is, she has +a dislike to Casaubon's property. You will hear what she says, +you know." + +"No--excuse me--I shall not," said Sir James, with more coolness. +"I cannot bear to see her again; it is too painful. It hurts me too +much that a woman like Dorothea should have done what is wrong." + +"Be just, Chettam," said the easy, large-lipped Rector, +who objected to all this unnecessary discomfort. "Mrs. Casaubon +may be acting imprudently: she is giving up a fortune for the sake +of a man, and we men have so poor an opinion of each other that we +can hardly call a woman wise who does that. But I think you should +not condemn it as a wrong action, in the strict sense of the word." + +"Yes, I do," answered Sir James. "I think that Dorothea commits +a wrong action in marrying Ladislaw." + +"My dear fellow, we are rather apt to consider an act wrong because +it is unpleasant to us," said the Rector, quietly. Like many men +who take life easily, he had the knack of saying a home truth +occasionally to those who felt themselves virtuously out of temper. +Sir James took out his handkerchief and began to bite the corner. + +"It is very dreadful of Dodo, though," said Celia, wishing to +justify her husband. "She said she NEVER WOULD marry again-- +not anybody at all." + +"I heard her say the same thing myself," said Lady Chettam, +majestically, as if this were royal evidence. + +"Oh, there is usually a silent exception in such cases," +said Mrs. Cadwallader. "The only wonder to me is, that any of +you are surprised. You did nothing to hinder it. If you would +have had Lord Triton down here to woo her with his philanthropy, +he might have carried her off before the year was over. There was +no safety in anything else. Mr. Casaubon had prepared all this +as beautifully as possible. He made himself disagreeable--or it +pleased God to make him so--and then he dared her to contradict him. +It's the way to make any trumpery tempting, to ticket it at a high +price in that way." + +"I don't know what you mean by wrong, Cadwallader," said Sir James, +still feeling a little stung, and turning round in his chair +towards the Rector. "He's not a man we can take into the family. +At least, I must speak for myself," he continued, carefully keeping +his eyes off Mr. Brooke. "I suppose others will find his society +too pleasant to care about the propriety of the thing." + +"Well, you know, Chettam," said Mr. Brooke, good-humoredly, nursing +his leg, "I can't turn my back on Dorothea. I must be a father +to her up to a certain point. I said, `My dear, I won't refuse +to give you away.' I had spoken strongly before. But I can cut +off the entail, you know. It will cost money and be troublesome; +but I can do it, you know." + +Mr. Brooke nodded at Sir James, and felt that he was both showing +his own force of resolution and propitiating what was just in the +Baronet's vexation. He had hit on a more ingenious mode of parrying than +he was aware of. He had touched a motive of which Sir James was ashamed. +The mass of his feeling about Dorothea's marriage to Ladislaw was +due partly to excusable prejudice, or even justifiable opinion, +partly to a jealous repugnance hardly less in Ladislaw's case +than in Casaubon's. He was convinced that the marriage was a fatal +one for Dorothea. But amid that mass ran a vein of which he was +too good and honorable a man to like the avowal even to himself: +it was undeniable that the union of the two estates--Tipton and Freshitt-- +lying charmingly within a ring-fence, was a prospect that flattered +him for his son and heir. Hence when Mr. Brooke noddingly appealed +to that motive, Sir James felt a sudden embarrassment; there was +a stoppage in his throat; he even blushed. He had found more words +than usual in the first jet of his anger, but Mr. Brooke's propitiation +was more clogging to his tongue than Mr. Cadwallader's caustic hint. + +But Celia was glad to have room for speech after her uncle's suggestion +of the marriage ceremony, and she said, though with as little eagerness +of manner as if the question had turned on an invitation to dinner, +"Do you mean that Dodo is going to be married directly, uncle?" + +"In three weeks, you know," said Mr. Brooke, helplessly. "I can do +nothing to hinder it, Cadwallader," he added, turning for a little +countenance toward the Rector, who said-- + +"--I--should not make any fuss about it. If she likes to be poor, +that is her affair. Nobody would have said anything if she had +married the young fellow because he was rich. Plenty of beneficed +clergy are poorer than they will be. Here is Elinor," continued the +provoking husband; "she vexed her friends by me: I had hardly +a thousand a-year--I was a lout--nobody could see anything in me-- +my shoes were not the right cut--all the men wondered how a woman +could like me. Upon my word, I must take Ladislaw's part until I +hear more harm of him." + +"Humphrey, that is all sophistry, and you know it," said his wife. +"Everything is all one--that is the beginning and end with you. +As if you had not been a Cadwallader! Does any one suppose that I +would have taken such a monster as you by any other name?" + +"And a clergyman too," observed Lady Chettam with approbation. +"Elinor cannot be said to have descended below her rank. It is +difficult to say what Mr. Ladislaw is, eh, James?" + +Sir James gave a small grunt, which was less respectful than +his usual mode of answering his mother. Celia looked up at him +like a thoughtful kitten. + +"It must be admitted that his blood is a frightful mixture!" +said Mrs. Cadwallader. "The Casaubon cuttle-fish fluid to begin with, +and then a rebellious Polish fiddler or dancing-master, was it?-- +and then an old clo--" + +"Nonsense, Elinor," said the Rector, rising. "It is time for us +to go." + +"After all, he is a pretty sprig," said Mrs. Cadwallader, rising too, +and wishing to make amends. "He is like the fine old Crichley +portraits before the idiots came in." + +"I'll go with you," said Mr. Brooke, starting up with alacrity. +"You must all come and dine with me to-morrow, you know--eh, Celia, +my dear?" + +"You will, James--won't you?" said Celia, taking her husband's hand. + +"Oh, of course, if you like," said Sir James, pulling down his waistcoat, +but unable yet to adjust his face good-humoredly. "That is to say, +if it is not to meet anybody else.': + +"No, no, no," said Mr. Brooke, understanding the condition. +"Dorothea would not come, you know, unless you had been to see her." + +When Sir James and Celia were alone, she said, "Do you mind about +my having the carriage to go to, Lowick, James?" + +"What, now, directly?" he answered, with some surprise. + +"Yes, it is very important," said Celia. + +"Remember, Celia, I cannot see her," said Sir James. + +"Not if she gave up marrying?" + +"What is the use of saying that?--however, I'm going to the stables. +I'll tell Briggs to bring the carriage round." + +Celia thought it was of great use, if not to say that, at least +to take a journey to Lowick in order to influence Dorothea's mind. +All through their girlhood she had felt that she could act on +her sister by a word judiciously placed--by opening a little +window for the daylight of her own understanding to enter among +the strange colored lamps by which Dodo habitually saw. And Celia +the matron naturally felt more able to advise her childless sister. +How could any one understand Dodo so well as Celia did or love her +so tenderly? + +Dorothea, busy in her boudoir, felt a glow of pleasure at the sight +of her sister so soon after the revelation of her intended marriage. +She had prefigured to herself, even with exaggeration, the disgust +of her friends, and she had even feared that Celia might be kept +aloof from her. + +"O Kitty, I am delighted to see you!" said Dorothea, putting her +hands on Celia's shoulders, and beaming on her. "I almost thought +you would not come to me." + +"I have not brought Arthur, because I was in a hurry," said Celia, +and they sat down on two small chairs opposite each other, +with their knees touching. + +"You know, Dodo, it is very bad," said Celia, in her placid guttural, +looking as prettily free from humors as possible. "You have disappointed +us all so. And I can't think that it ever WILL be--you never +can go and live in that way. And then there are all your plans! +You never can have thought of that. James would have taken any trouble +for you, and you might have gone on all your life doing what you liked." + +"On the contrary, dear," said Dorothea, "I never could do anything +that I liked. I have never carried out any plan yet." + +"Because you always wanted things that wouldn't do. But other plans +would have come. And how can you marry Mr. Ladislaw, that we none of us +ever thought you COULD marry? It shocks James so dreadfully. +And then it is all so different from what you have always been. +You would have Mr. Casaubon because he had such a great soul, +and was so and dismal and learned; and now, to think of marrying +Mr. Ladislaw, who has got no estate or anything. I suppose it +is because you must be making yourself uncomfortable in some way +or other." + +Dorothea laughed. + +"Well, it is very serious, Dodo," said Celia, becoming more impressive. +"How will you live? and you will go away among queer people. +And I shall never see you--and you won't mind about little Arthur-- +and I thought you always would--" + +Celia's rare tears had got into her eyes, and the corners of her +mouth were agitated. + +"Dear Celia," said Dorothea, with tender gravity, "if you don't +ever see me, it will not be my fault." + +"Yes, it will," said Celia, with the same touching distortion +of her small features. "How can I come to you or have you with me +when James can't bear it?--that is because he thinks it is not right-- +he thinks you are so wrong, Dodo. But you always were wrong: only I +can't help loving you. And nobody can think where you will live: +where can you go?" + +"I am going to London," said Dorothea. + +"How can you always live in a street? And you will be so poor. +I could give you half my things, only how can I, when I never +see you?" + +"Bless you, Kitty," said Dorothea, with gentle warmth. "Take comfort: +perhaps James will forgive me some time." + +"But it would be much better if you would not be married," said Celia, +drying her eyes, and returning to her argument; "then there would +be nothing uncomfortable. And you would not do what nobody thought +you could do. James always said you ought to be a queen; but this +is not at all being like a queen. You know what mistakes you +have always been making, Dodo, and this is another. Nobody thinks +Mr. Ladislaw a proper husband for you. And you SAID YOU would +never be married again." + +"It is quite true that I might be a wiser person, Celia," said Dorothea, +"and that I might have done something better, if I had been better. +But this is what I am going to do. I have promised to marry +Mr. Ladislaw; and I am going to marry him." + +The tone in which Dorothea said this was a note that Celia had long +learned to recognize. She was silent a few moments, and then said, +as if she had dismissed all contest, "Is he very fond of you, Dodo?" + +"I hope so. I am very fond of him." + +"That is nice," said Celia, comfortably. "Only I rather you had such +a sort of husband as James is, with a place very near, that I could +drive to." + +Dorothea smiled, and Celia looked rather meditative. +Presently she said, "I cannot think how it all came about." +Celia thought it would be pleasant to hear the story. + +"I dare say not," said-Dorothea, pinching her sister's chin. +"If you knew how it came about, it would not seem wonderful to you." + +"Can't you tell me?" said Celia, settling her arms cozily. + +"No, dear, you would have to feel with me, else you would never know." + +CHAPTER LIXXV. + +"Then went the jury out whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, +Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, +Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, Mr. Implacable, +who every one gave in his private verdict against him among themselves, +and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty +before the judge. And first among themselves, Mr. Blindman, +the foreman, said, I see clearly that this man is a heretic. +Then said Mr. No-good, Away with such a fellow from the earth! +Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very look of him. Then said +Mr. Love-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose; +for he would be always condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, +said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth +against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. +Hanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch +him out of the way said Mr. Hate-light. Then said Mr. Implacable, +Might I have all the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; +therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death." + --Pilgrim's Progress. + +When immortal Bunyan makes his picture of the persecuting passions +bringing in their verdict of guilty, who pities Faithful? +That is a rare and blessed lot which some greatest men have +not attained, to know ourselves guiltless before a condemning crowd-- +to be sure that what we are denounced for is solely the good in us. +The pitiable lot is that of the man who could not call himself a martyr +even though he were to persuade himself that the men who stoned +him were but ugly passions incarnate--who knows that he is stoned, +not for professing the Right, but for not being the man he professed +to be. + +This was the consciousness that Bulstrode was withering under while he +made his preparations for departing from Middlemarch, and going to end +his stricken life in that sad refuge, the indifference of new faces. +The duteous merciful constancy of his wife had delivered him from +one dread, but it could not hinder her presence from being still a +tribunal before which he shrank from confession and desired advocacy. +His equivocations with himself about the death of Raffles had +sustained the conception of an Omniscience whom he prayed to, +yet he had a terror upon him which would not let him expose them +to judgment by a full confession to his wife: the acts which he had +washed and diluted with inward argument and motive, and for which it +seemed comparatively easy to win invisible pardon--what name would +she call them by? That she should ever silently call his acts +Murder was what he could not bear. He felt shrouded by her doubt: +he got strength to face her from the sense that she could not yet +feel warranted in pronouncing that worst condemnation on him. +Some time, perhaps--when he was dying--he would tell her all: +in the deep shadow of that time, when she held his hand in the +gathering darkness, she might listen without recoiling from +his touch. Perhaps: but concealment had been the habit of his life, +and the impulse to confession had no power against the dread +of a deeper humiliation. + +He was full of timid care for his wife, not only because he +deprecated any harshness of judgment from her, but because he +felt a deep distress at the sight of her suffering. She had +sent her daughters away to board at a school on the coast, +that this crisis might be hidden from them as far as possible. +Set free by their absence from the intolerable necessity of +accounting for her grief or of beholding their frightened wonder, +she could live unconstrainedly with the sorrow that was every +day streaking her hair with whiteness and making her eyelids languid. + +"Tell me anything that you would like to have me do, Harriet," +Bulstrode had said to her; "I mean with regard to arrangements +of property. It is my intention not to sell the land I possess +in this neighborhood, but to leave it to you as a safe provision. +If you have any wish on such subjects, do not conceal it from me." + +A few days afterwards, when she had returned from a visit to +her brother's, she began to speak to her husband on a subject +which had for some time been in her mind. + +"I SHOULD like to do something for my brother's family, +Nicholas; and I think we are bound to make some amends to Rosamond +and her husband. Walter says Mr. Lydgate must leave the town, +and his practice is almost good for nothing, and they have very little +left to settle anywhere with. I would rather do without something +for ourselves, to make some amends to my poor brother's family." + +Mrs. Bulstrode did not wish to go nearer to the facts than in the phrase +"make some amends;" knowing that her husband must understand her. +He had a particular reason, which she was not aware of, for wincing +under her suggestion. He hesitated before he said-- + +"It is not possible to carry out your wish in the way you propose, +my dear. Mr. Lydgate has virtually rejected any further service +from me. He has returned the thousand pounds which I lent him. +Mrs. Casaubon advanced him the sum for that purpose. Here is +his letter." + +The letter seemed to cut Mrs. Bulstrode severely. The mention of +Mrs. Casaubon's loan seemed a reflection of that public feeling which +held it a matter of course that every one would avoid a connection +with her husband. She was silent for some time; and the tears fell +one after the other, her chin trembling as she wiped them away. +Bulstrode, sitting opposite to her, ached at the sight of that +grief-worn face, which two months before had been bright and blooming. +It had aged to keep sad company with his own withered features. +Urged into some effort at comforting her, he said-- + +"There is another means, Harriet, by which I might do a service +to your brother's family, if you like to act in it. And it would, +I think, be beneficial to you: it would be an advantageous way +of managing the land which I mean to be yours." + +She looked attentive. + +"Garth once thought of undertaking the management of Stone Court +in order to place your nephew Fred there. The stock was to remain +as it is, and they were to pay a certain share of the profits +instead of an ordinary rent. That would be a desirable beginning +for the young man, in conjunction with his employment under Garth. +Would it be a satisfaction to you?" + +"Yes, it would," said Mrs. Bulstrode, with some return of energy. +"Poor Walter is so cast down; I would try anything in my power +to do him some good before I go away. We have always been brother +and sister." + +"You must make the proposal to Garth yourself, Harriet," +said Mr. Bulstrode, not liking what he had to say, but desiring +the end he had in view, for other reasons besides the consolation +of his wife. "You must state to him that the land is virtually yours, +and that he need have no transactions with me. Communications can +be made through Standish. I mention this, because Garth gave +up being my agent. I can put into your hands a paper which he +himself drew up, stating conditions; and you can propose his +renewed acceptance of them. I think it is not unlikely that +he will accept when you propose the thing for the sake of your nephew." + +CHAPTER LXXXVI. + +"Le coeur se sature d'amour comme d'un sel divin qui le conserve; +de la l'incorruptible adherence de ceux qui se sont aimes des +l'aube de la vie, et la fraicheur des vielles amours prolonges. +Il existe un embaumement d'amour. C'est de Daphnis et Chloe +que sont faits Philemon et Baucis. Cette vieillesse la, +ressemblance du soir avec l'aurore." + --VICTOR HUGO: L'homme qui rit. + +Mrs. Garth, hearing Caleb enter the passage about tea-time, opened +the parlor-door and said, "There you are, Caleb. Have you had +your dinner?" (Mr. Garth's meals were much subordinated to "business.") + +"Oh yes, a good dinner--cold mutton and I don't know what. +Where is Mary?" + +"In the garden with Letty, I think." + +"Fred is not come yet?" + +"No. Are you going out again without taking tea, Caleb?" +said Mrs. Garth, seeing that her absent-minded husband +was putting on again the hat which he had just taken off. + +"No, no; I'm only going to Mary a minute." + +Mary was in a grassy corner of the garden, where there was a swing +loftily hung between two pear-trees. She had a pink kerchief tied +over her head, making a little poke to shade her eyes from the +level sunbeams, while she was giving a glorious swing to Letty, +who laughed and screamed wildly. + +Seeing her father, Mary left the swing and went to meet him, +pushing back the pink kerchief and smiling afar off at him with +the involuntary smile of loving pleasure. + +"I came to look for you, Mary," said Mr. Garth. "Let us-walk +about a bit." Mary knew quite well that her father had something +particular to say: his eyebrows made their pathetic angle, +and there was a tender gravity in his voice: these things had been +signs to her when she was Letty's age. She put her arm within his, +and they turned by the row of nut-trees. + +"It will be a sad while before you can be married, Mary," said her father, +not looking at her, but at the end of the stick which he held in his other +hand. + +"Not a sad while, father--I mean to be merry," said Mary, +laughingly. "I have been single and merry for four-and-twenty +years and more: I suppose it will not be quite as long again +as that." Then, after a little pause, she said, more gravely, +bending her face before her father's, "If you are contented with Fred?" + +Caleb screwed up his mouth and turned his head aside wisely. + +"Now, father, you did praise him last Wednesday. You said he +had an uncommon notion of stock, and a good eye for things." + +"Did I?" said Caleb, rather slyly. + +"Yes, I put it all down, and the date, anno Domini, and everything," +said Mary. "You like things to be neatly booked. And then his +behavior to you, father, is really good; he has a deep respect for you; +and it is impossible to have a better temper than Fred has." + +"Ay, ay; you want to coax me into thinking him a fine match." + +"No, indeed, father. I don't love him because he is a fine match." + +"What for, then?" + +"Oh, dear, because I have always loved him. I should never like +scolding any one else so well; and that is a point to be thought +of in a husband." + +"Your mind is quite settled, then, Mary?" said Caleb, returning to +his first tone. "There's no other wish come into it since things +have been going on as they have been of late?" (Caleb meant a great +deal in that vague phrase;) "because, better late than never. +A woman must not force her heart--she'll do a man no good by that." + +"My feelings have not changed, father," said Mary, calmly. +"I shall be constant to Fred as long as he is constant to me. +I don't think either of us could spare the other, or like any one +else better, however much we might admire them. It would make too +great a difference to us--like seeing all the old places altered, +and changing the name for everything. We must wait for each other +a long while; but Fred knows that." + +Instead of speaking immediately, Caleb stood still and screwed his +stick on the grassy walk. Then he said, with emotion in his voice, +"Well, I've got a bit of news. What do you think of Fred going +to live at Stone Court, and managing the land there?" + +"How can that ever be, father?" said Mary, wonderingly. + +"He would manage it for his aunt Bulstrode. The poor woman has +been to me begging and praying. She wants to do the lad good, +and it might be a fine thing for him. With saving, he might gradually +buy the stock, and he has a turn for farming." + +"Oh, Fred would be so happy! It is too good to believe." + +"Ah, but mind you," said Caleb, turning his head warningly, "I must take +it on MY shoulders, and be responsible, and see after everything; +and that will grieve your mother a bit, though she mayn't say so. +Fred had need be careful." + +"Perhaps it is too much, father," said Mary, checked in her joy. +"There would be no happiness in bringing you any fresh trouble." + +"Nay, nay; work is my delight, child, when it doesn't vex your mother. +And then, if you and Fred get married," here Caleb's voice shook +just perceptibly, "he'll be steady and saving; and you've got +your mother's cleverness, and mine too, in a woman's sort of way; +and you'll keep him in order. He'll be coming by-and-by, so I +wanted to tell you first, because I think you'd like to tell HIM +by yourselves. After that, I could talk it well over with him, +and we could go into business and the nature of things." + +"Oh, you dear good father!" cried Mary, putting her hands round her +father's neck, while he bent his head placidly, willing to be caressed. +"I wonder if any other girl thinks her father the best man in the world!" + +"Nonsense, child; you'll think your husband better." + +"Impossible," said Mary, relapsing into her usual tone; "husbands +are an inferior class of men, who require keeping in order." + +When they were entering the house with Letty, who had run to join them, +Mary saw Fred at the orchard-gate, and went to meet him. + +"What fine clothes you wear, you extravagant youth!" said Mary, +as Fred stood still and raised his hat to her with playful formality. +"You are not learning economy." + +"Now that is too bad, Mary," said Fred. "Just look at the edges +of these coat-cuffs! It is only by dint of good brushing that I +look respectable. I am saving up three suits--one for a wedding-suit." + +"How very droll you will look!--like a gentleman in an old fashion-book." + +"Oh no, they will keep two years." + +"Two years! be reasonable, Fred," said Mary, turning to walk. +"Don't encourage flattering expectations." + +"Why not? One lives on them better than on unflattering ones. +If we can't be married in two years, the truth will be quite bad +enough when it comes." + +"I have heard a story of a young gentleman who once encouraged +flattering expectations, and they did him harm." + +"Mary, if you've got something discouraging to tell me, I shall bolt; +I shall go into the house to Mr. Garth. I am out of spirits. +My father is so cut up--home is not like itself. I can't bear any +more bad news." + +"Should you call it bad news to be told that you were to live +at Stone Court, and manage the farm, and be remarkably prudent, +and save money every year till all the stock and furniture were +your own, and you were a distinguished agricultural character, +as Mr. Borthrop Trumbull says--rather stout, I fear, and with the +Greek and Latin sadly weather-worn?" + +"You don't mean anything except nonsense, Mary?" said Fred, +coloring slightly nevertheless. + +"That is what my father has just told me of as what may happen, +and he never talks nonsense," said Mary, looking up at Fred now, +while he grasped her hand as they walked, till it rather hurt her; +but she would not complain. + +"Oh, I could be a tremendously good fellow then, Mary, and we could +be married directly." + +"Not so fast, sir; how do you know that I would not rather defer +our marriage for some years? That would leave you time to misbehave, +and then if I liked some one else better, I should have an excuse +for jilting you." + +"Pray don't joke, Mary," said Fred, with strong feeling. "Tell me +seriously that all this is true, and that you are happy because of it-- +because you love me best." + +"It is all true, Fred, and I am happy because of it--because I love +you best," said Mary, in a tone of obedient recitation. + +They lingered on the door-step under the steep-roofed porch, +and Fred almost in a whisper said-- + +"When we were first engaged, with the umbrella-ring, Mary, you used to--" + +The spirit of joy began to laugh more decidedly in Mary's eyes, +but the fatal Ben came running to the door with Brownie yapping +behind him, and, bouncing against them, said-- + +"Fred and Mary! are you ever coming in?--or may I eat your cake?" + +FINALE. + +Every limit is a beginning as well as an ending. Who can quit young +lives after being long in company with them, and not desire to know +what befell them in their after-years? For the fragment of a life, +however typical, is not the sample of an even web: promises may +not be kept, and an ardent outset may be followed by declension; +latent powers may find their long-waited opportunity; a past error +may urge a grand retrieval. + +Marriage, which has been the bourne of so many narratives, +is still a great beginning, as it was to Adam and Eve, who kept +their honeymoon in Eden, but had their first little one among the +thorns and thistles of the wilderness. It is still the beginning +of the home epic--the gradual conquest or irremediable loss +of that complete union which makes the advancing years a climax, +and age the harvest of sweet memories in common. + +Some set out, like Crusaders of old, with a glorious equipment +of hope and enthusiasm and get broken by the way, wanting patience +with each other and the world. + +All who have oared for Fred Vincy and Mary Garth will like to +know that these two made no such failure, but achieved a solid +mutual happiness. Fred surprised his neighbors in various ways. +He became rather distinguished in his side of the county as a theoretic +and practical farmer, and produced a work on the "Cultivation of +Green Crops and the Economy of Cattle-Feeding" which won him high +congratulations at agricultural meetings. In Middlemarch admiration +was more reserved: most persons there were inclined to believe +that the merit of Fred's authorship was due to his wife, since they +had never expected Fred Vincy to write on turnips and mangel-wurzel. + +But when Mary wrote a little book for her boys, called "Stories +of Great Men, taken from Plutarch," and had it printed and published +by Gripp & Co., Middlemarch, every one in the town was willing +to give the credit of this work to Fred, observing that he +had been to the University, "where the ancients were studied," +and might have been a clergyman if he had chosen. + +In this way it was made clear that Middlemarch had never been deceived, +and that there was no need to praise anybody for writing a book, +since it was always done by somebody else. + +Moreover, Fred remained unswervingly steady. Some years after +his marriage he told Mary that his happiness was half owing +to Farebrother, who gave him a strong pull-up at the right moment. +I cannot say that he was never again misled by his hopefulness: +the yield of crops or the profits of a cattle sale usually fell +below his estimate; and he was always prone to believe that he +could make money by the purchase of a horse which turned out badly-- +though this, Mary observed, was of course the fault of the horse, +not of Fred's judgment. He kept his love of horsemanship, but he rarely +allowed himself a day's hunting; and when he did so, it was remarkable +that he submitted to be laughed at for cowardliness at the fences, +seeming to see Mary and the boys sitting on the five-barred gate, +or showing their curly heads between hedge and ditch. + +There were three boys: Mary was not discontented that she brought +forth men-children only; and when Fred wished to have a girl like her, +she said, laughingly, "that would be too great a trial to your mother." +Mrs. Vincy in her declining years, and in the diminished lustre of +her housekeeping, was much comforted by her perception that two at least +of Fred's boys were real Vincys, and did not "feature the Garths." +But Mary secretly rejoiced that the youngest of the three was very +much what her father must have been when he wore a round jacket, +and showed a marvellous nicety of aim in playing at marbles, +or in throwing stones to bring down the mellow pears. + +Ben and Letty Garth, who were uncle and aunt before they were well +in their teens, disputed much as to whether nephews or nieces were +more desirable; Ben contending that it was clear girls were good +for less than boys, else they would not be always in petticoats, +which showed how little they were meant for; whereupon Letty, +who argued much from books, got angry in replying that God made coats +of skins for both Adam and Eve alike--also it occurred to her that +in the East the men too wore petticoats. But this latter argument, +obscuring the majesty of the former, was one too many, for Ben +answered contemptuously, "The more spooneys they!" and immediately +appealed to his mother whether boys were not better than girls. +Mrs. Garth pronounced that both were alike naughty, but that boys +were undoubtedly stronger, could run faster, and throw with more +precision to a greater distance. With this oracular sentence Ben was +well satisfied, not minding the naughtiness; but Letty took it ill, +her feeling of superiority being stronger than her muscles. + +Fred never became rich--his hopefulness had not led him to expect that; +but he gradually saved enough to become owner of the stock and furniture +at Stone Court, and the work which Mr. Garth put into his hands +carried him in plenty through those "bad times" which are always +present with farmers. Mary, in her matronly days, became as solid +in figure as her mother; but, unlike her, gave the boys little +formal teaching, so that Mrs. Garth was alarmed lest they should never +be well grounded in grammar and geography. Nevertheless, they were +found quite forward enough when they went to school; perhaps, +because they had liked nothing so well as being with their mother. +When Fred was riding home on winter evenings he had a pleasant +vision beforehand of the bright hearth in the wainscoted parlor, +and was sorry for other men who could not have Mary for their wife; +especially for Mr. Farebrother. "He was ten times worthier of you +than I was," Fred could now say to her, magnanimously. "To be sure +he was," Mary answered; "and for that reason he could do better +without me. But you--I shudder to think what you would have been-- +a curate in debt for horse-hire and cambric pocket-handkerchiefs!" + +On inquiry it might possibly be found that Fred and Mary still +inhabit Stone Court--that the creeping plants still cast the foam +of their blossoms over the fine stone-wall into the field where the +walnut-trees stand in stately row--and that on sunny days the two +lovers who were first engaged with the umbrella-ring may be seen +in white-haired placidity at the open window from which Mary Garth, +in the days of old Peter Featherstone, had often been ordered +to look out for Mr. Lydgate. + +Lydgate's hair never became white. He died when he was only fifty, +leaving his wife and children provided for by a heavy insurance +on his life. He had gained an excellent practice, alternating, +according to the season, between London and a Continental bathing-place; +having written a treatise on Gout, a disease which has a good deal +of wealth on its side. His skill was relied on by many paying patients, +but he always regarded himself as a failure: he had not done what he +once meant to do. His acquaintances thought him enviable to have +so charming a wife, and nothing happened to shake their opinion. +Rosamond never committed a second compromising indiscretion. She simply +continued to be mild in her temper, inflexible in her judgment, +disposed to admonish her husband, and able to frustrate him +by stratagem. As the years went on he opposed her less and less, +whence Rosamond concluded that he had learned the value of her opinion; +on the other hand, she had a more thorough conviction of his talents +now that he gained a good income, and instead of the threatened cage +in Bride Street provided one all flowers and gilding, fit for the +bird of paradise that she resembled. In brief, Lydgate was what is +called a successful man. But he died prematurely of diphtheria, +and Rosamond afterwards married an elderly and wealthy physician, +who took kindly to her four children. She made a very pretty show +with her daughters, driving out in her carriage, and often spoke +of her happiness as "a reward"--she did not say for what, but probably +she meant that it was a reward for her patience with Tertius, +whose temper never became faultless, and to the last occasionally +let slip a bitter speech which was more memorable than the signs +he made of his repentance. He once called her his basil plant; +and when she asked for an explanation, said that basil was a plant +which had flourished wonderfully on a murdered man's brains. +Rosamond had a placid but strong answer to such speeches. Why then +had he chosen her? It was a pity he had not had Mrs. Ladislaw, +whom he was always praising and placing above her. And thus +the conversation ended with the advantage on Rosamond's side. +But it would be unjust not to tell, that she never uttered a word +in depreciation of Dorothea, keeping in religious remembrance +the generosity which had come to her aid in the sharpest crisis of +her life. + +Dorothea herself had no dreams of being praised above other women, +feeling that there was always something better which she might have done, +if she had only been better and known better. Still, she never +repented that she had given up position and fortune to marry +Will Ladislaw, and he would have held it the greatest shame as well +as sorrow to him if she had repented. They were bound to each other +by a love stronger than any impulses which could have marred it. +No life would have been possible to Dorothea which was not filled +with emotion, and she had now a life filled also with a beneficent +activity which she had not the doubtful pains of discovering +and marking out for herself. Will became an ardent public man, +working well in those times when reforms were begun with a young +hopefulness of immediate good which has been much checked in our days, +and getting at last returned to Parliament by a constituency +who paid his expenses. Dorothea could have liked nothing better, +since wrongs existed, than that her husband should be in the thick +of a struggle against them, and that she should give him wifely help. +Many who knew her, thought it a pity that so substantive and rare +a creature should have been absorbed into the life of another, +and be only known in a certain circle as a wife and mother. +But no one stated exactly what else that was in her power she ought +rather to have done--not even Sir James Chettam, who went no further +than the negative prescription that she ought not to have married +Will Ladislaw. + +But this opinion of his did not cause a lasting alienation; and the +way in which the family was made whole again was characteristic +of all concerned. Mr. Brooke could not resist the pleasure of +corresponding with Will and Dorothea; and one morning when his pen +had been remarkably fluent on the prospects of Municipal Reform, +it ran off into an invitation to the Grange, which, once written, +could not be done away with at less cost than the sacrifice +(hardly to be conceived) of the whole valuable letter. +During the months of this correspondence Mr. Brooke had continually, +in his talk with Sir James Chettam, been presupposing or hinting +that the intention of cutting off the entail was still maintained; +and the day on which his pen gave the daring invitation, he went +to Freshitt expressly to intimate that he had a stronger sense than +ever of the reasons for taking that energetic step as a precaution +against any mixture of low blood in the heir of the Brookes. + +But that morning something exciting had happened at the Hall. +A letter had come to Celia which made her cry silently as she read it; +and when Sir James, unused to see her in tears, asked anxiously what +was the matter, she burst out in a wail such as he had never heard +from her before. + +"Dorothea has a little boy. And you will not let me go and see her. +And I am sure she wants to see me. And she will not know what to do +with the baby--she will do wrong things with it. And they thought +she would die. It is very dreadful! Suppose it had been me and +little Arthur, and Dodo had been hindered from coming to see me! +I wish you would be less unkind, James!" + +"Good heavens, Celia!" said Sir James, much wrought upon, "what do +you wish? I will do anything you like. I will take you to town +to-morrow if you wish it." And Celia did wish it. + +It was after this that Mr. Brooke came, and meeting the Baronet +in the grounds, began to chat with him in ignorance of the news, +which Sir James for some reason did not care to tell him immediately. +But when the entail was touched on in the usual way, he said, +"My dear sir, it is not for me to dictate to you, but for my part I +would let that alone. I would let things remain as they are." + +Mr. Brooke felt so much surprised that he did not at once find +out how much he was relieved by the sense that he was not expected +to do anything in particular. + +Such being the bent of Celia's heart, it was inevitable that Sir James +should consent to a reconciliation with Dorothea and her husband. +Where women love each other, men learn to smother their mutual dislike. +Sir James never liked Ladislaw, and Will always preferred to have Sir +James's company mixed with another kind: they were on a footing +of reciprocal tolerance which was made quite easy only when Dorothea +and Celia were present. + +It became an understood thing that Mr. and Mrs. Ladislaw should pay +at least two visits during the year to the Grange, and there came +gradually a small row of cousins at Freshitt who enjoyed playing +with the two cousins Visiting Tipton as much as if the blood +of these cousins had been less dubiously mixed. + +Mr. Brooke lived to a good old age, and his estate was inherited by +Dorothea's son, who might have represented Middlemarch, but declined, +thinking that his opinions had less chance of being stifled if he +remained out of doors. + +Sir James never ceased to regard Dorothea's second marriage as a mistake; +and indeed this remained the tradition concerning it in Middlemarch, +where she was spoken of to a younger generation as a fine girl +who married a sickly clergyman, old enough to be her father, and in +little more than a year after his death gave up her estate to marry +his cousin--young enough to have been his son, with no property, +and not well-born. Those who had not seen anything of Dorothea +usually observed that she could not have been "a nice woman," +else she would not have married either the one or the other. + +Certainly those determining acts of her life were not ideally beautiful. +They were the mixed result of young and noble impulse struggling +amidst the conditions of an imperfect social state, in which great +feelings will often take the aspect of error, and great faith the +aspect of illusion. For there is no creature whose inward being is +so strong that it is not greatly determined by what lies outside it. +A new Theresa will hardly have the opportunity of reforming +a conventual life, any more than a new Antigone will spend her +heroic piety in daring all for the sake of a brother's burial: +the medium in which their ardent deeds took shape is forever gone. +But we insignificant people with our daily words and acts are +preparing the lives of many Dorotheas, some of which may present +a far sadder sacrifice than that of the Dorothea whose story we know. + +Her finely touched spirit had still its fine issues, though they were +not widely visible. Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus +broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great +name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around +her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world +is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so +ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the +number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs. diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Preamble-Constitution.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Preamble-Constitution.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..36ede16 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/Preamble-Constitution.txt @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/README.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/README.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a545609 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/README.txt @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +README.txt file for Flesch-Kincaid diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/RosesAreRed.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/RosesAreRed.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5133a68 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/RosesAreRed.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +Roses are red. +Violets are blue. +Sugar is sweet, +And so are you! diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/TaleOfTwoCities.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/TaleOfTwoCities.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3e1d4e --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/TaleOfTwoCities.txt @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/TomSawyer.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/TomSawyer.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ebca03 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/TomSawyer.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8356 @@ +TOM SAWYER + +by Mark Twain + +CHAPTER I + +"TOM!" + +No answer. + +"TOM!" + +No answer. + +"What's gone with that boy, I wonder? You TOM!" + +No answer. + +The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the +room; then she put them up and looked out under them. She seldom or +never looked THROUGH them for so small a thing as a boy; they were her +state pair, the pride of her heart, and were built for "style," not +service--she could have seen through a pair of stove-lids just as well. +She looked perplexed for a moment, and then said, not fiercely, but +still loud enough for the furniture to hear: + +"Well, I lay if I get hold of you I'll--" + +She did not finish, for by this time she was bending down and punching +under the bed with the broom, and so she needed breath to punctuate the +punches with. She resurrected nothing but the cat. + +"I never did see the beat of that boy!" + +She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the +tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. +So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and +shouted: + +"Y-o-u-u TOM!" + +There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to +seize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight. + +"There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in +there?" + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What IS that +truck?" + +"I don't know, aunt." + +"Well, I know. It's jam--that's what it is. Forty times I've said if +you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch." + +The switch hovered in the air--the peril was desperate-- + +"My! Look behind you, aunt!" + +The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The +lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and +disappeared over it. + +His aunt Polly stood surprised a moment, and then broke into a gentle +laugh. + +"Hang the boy, can't I never learn anything? Ain't he played me tricks +enough like that for me to be looking out for him by this time? But old +fools is the biggest fools there is. Can't learn an old dog new tricks, +as the saying is. But my goodness, he never plays them alike, two days, +and how is a body to know what's coming? He 'pears to know just how +long he can torment me before I get my dander up, and he knows if he +can make out to put me off for a minute or make me laugh, it's all down +again and I can't hit him a lick. I ain't doing my duty by that boy, +and that's the Lord's truth, goodness knows. Spare the rod and spile +the child, as the Good Book says. I'm a laying up sin and suffering for +us both, I know. He's full of the Old Scratch, but laws-a-me! he's my +own dead sister's boy, poor thing, and I ain't got the heart to lash +him, somehow. Every time I let him off, my conscience does hurt me so, +and every time I hit him my old heart most breaks. Well-a-well, man +that is born of woman is of few days and full of trouble, as the +Scripture says, and I reckon it's so. He'll play hookey this evening, * +and [* Southwestern for "afternoon"] I'll just be obleeged to make him +work, to-morrow, to punish him. It's mighty hard to make him work +Saturdays, when all the boys is having holiday, but he hates work more +than he hates anything else, and I've GOT to do some of my duty by him, +or I'll be the ruination of the child." + +Tom did play hookey, and he had a very good time. He got back home +barely in season to help Jim, the small colored boy, saw next-day's +wood and split the kindlings before supper--at least he was there in +time to tell his adventures to Jim while Jim did three-fourths of the +work. Tom's younger brother (or rather half-brother) Sid was already +through with his part of the work (picking up chips), for he was a +quiet boy, and had no adventurous, troublesome ways. + +While Tom was eating his supper, and stealing sugar as opportunity +offered, Aunt Polly asked him questions that were full of guile, and +very deep--for she wanted to trap him into damaging revealments. Like +many other simple-hearted souls, it was her pet vanity to believe she +was endowed with a talent for dark and mysterious diplomacy, and she +loved to contemplate her most transparent devices as marvels of low +cunning. Said she: + +"Tom, it was middling warm in school, warn't it?" + +"Yes'm." + +"Powerful warm, warn't it?" + +"Yes'm." + +"Didn't you want to go in a-swimming, Tom?" + +A bit of a scare shot through Tom--a touch of uncomfortable suspicion. +He searched Aunt Polly's face, but it told him nothing. So he said: + +"No'm--well, not very much." + +The old lady reached out her hand and felt Tom's shirt, and said: + +"But you ain't too warm now, though." And it flattered her to reflect +that she had discovered that the shirt was dry without anybody knowing +that that was what she had in her mind. But in spite of her, Tom knew +where the wind lay, now. So he forestalled what might be the next move: + +"Some of us pumped on our heads--mine's damp yet. See?" + +Aunt Polly was vexed to think she had overlooked that bit of +circumstantial evidence, and missed a trick. Then she had a new +inspiration: + +"Tom, you didn't have to undo your shirt collar where I sewed it, to +pump on your head, did you? Unbutton your jacket!" + +The trouble vanished out of Tom's face. He opened his jacket. His +shirt collar was securely sewed. + +"Bother! Well, go 'long with you. I'd made sure you'd played hookey +and been a-swimming. But I forgive ye, Tom. I reckon you're a kind of a +singed cat, as the saying is--better'n you look. THIS time." + +She was half sorry her sagacity had miscarried, and half glad that Tom +had stumbled into obedient conduct for once. + +But Sidney said: + +"Well, now, if I didn't think you sewed his collar with white thread, +but it's black." + +"Why, I did sew it with white! Tom!" + +But Tom did not wait for the rest. As he went out at the door he said: + +"Siddy, I'll lick you for that." + +In a safe place Tom examined two large needles which were thrust into +the lapels of his jacket, and had thread bound about them--one needle +carried white thread and the other black. He said: + +"She'd never noticed if it hadn't been for Sid. Confound it! sometimes +she sews it with white, and sometimes she sews it with black. I wish to +geeminy she'd stick to one or t'other--I can't keep the run of 'em. But +I bet you I'll lam Sid for that. I'll learn him!" + +He was not the Model Boy of the village. He knew the model boy very +well though--and loathed him. + +Within two minutes, or even less, he had forgotten all his troubles. +Not because his troubles were one whit less heavy and bitter to him +than a man's are to a man, but because a new and powerful interest bore +them down and drove them out of his mind for the time--just as men's +misfortunes are forgotten in the excitement of new enterprises. This +new interest was a valued novelty in whistling, which he had just +acquired from a negro, and he was suffering to practise it undisturbed. +It consisted in a peculiar bird-like turn, a sort of liquid warble, +produced by touching the tongue to the roof of the mouth at short +intervals in the midst of the music--the reader probably remembers how +to do it, if he has ever been a boy. Diligence and attention soon gave +him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full +of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an +astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet--no doubt, as far as +strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with +the boy, not the astronomer. + +The summer evenings were long. It was not dark, yet. Presently Tom +checked his whistle. A stranger was before him--a boy a shade larger +than himself. A new-comer of any age or either sex was an impressive +curiosity in the poor little shabby village of St. Petersburg. This boy +was well dressed, too--well dressed on a week-day. This was simply +astounding. His cap was a dainty thing, his close-buttoned blue cloth +roundabout was new and natty, and so were his pantaloons. He had shoes +on--and it was only Friday. He even wore a necktie, a bright bit of +ribbon. He had a citified air about him that ate into Tom's vitals. The +more Tom stared at the splendid marvel, the higher he turned up his +nose at his finery and the shabbier and shabbier his own outfit seemed +to him to grow. Neither boy spoke. If one moved, the other moved--but +only sidewise, in a circle; they kept face to face and eye to eye all +the time. Finally Tom said: + +"I can lick you!" + +"I'd like to see you try it." + +"Well, I can do it." + +"No you can't, either." + +"Yes I can." + +"No you can't." + +"I can." + +"You can't." + +"Can!" + +"Can't!" + +An uncomfortable pause. Then Tom said: + +"What's your name?" + +"'Tisn't any of your business, maybe." + +"Well I 'low I'll MAKE it my business." + +"Well why don't you?" + +"If you say much, I will." + +"Much--much--MUCH. There now." + +"Oh, you think you're mighty smart, DON'T you? I could lick you with +one hand tied behind me, if I wanted to." + +"Well why don't you DO it? You SAY you can do it." + +"Well I WILL, if you fool with me." + +"Oh yes--I've seen whole families in the same fix." + +"Smarty! You think you're SOME, now, DON'T you? Oh, what a hat!" + +"You can lump that hat if you don't like it. I dare you to knock it +off--and anybody that'll take a dare will suck eggs." + +"You're a liar!" + +"You're another." + +"You're a fighting liar and dasn't take it up." + +"Aw--take a walk!" + +"Say--if you give me much more of your sass I'll take and bounce a +rock off'n your head." + +"Oh, of COURSE you will." + +"Well I WILL." + +"Well why don't you DO it then? What do you keep SAYING you will for? +Why don't you DO it? It's because you're afraid." + +"I AIN'T afraid." + +"You are." + +"I ain't." + +"You are." + +Another pause, and more eying and sidling around each other. Presently +they were shoulder to shoulder. Tom said: + +"Get away from here!" + +"Go away yourself!" + +"I won't." + +"I won't either." + +So they stood, each with a foot placed at an angle as a brace, and +both shoving with might and main, and glowering at each other with +hate. But neither could get an advantage. After struggling till both +were hot and flushed, each relaxed his strain with watchful caution, +and Tom said: + +"You're a coward and a pup. I'll tell my big brother on you, and he +can thrash you with his little finger, and I'll make him do it, too." + +"What do I care for your big brother? I've got a brother that's bigger +than he is--and what's more, he can throw him over that fence, too." +[Both brothers were imaginary.] + +"That's a lie." + +"YOUR saying so don't make it so." + +Tom drew a line in the dust with his big toe, and said: + +"I dare you to step over that, and I'll lick you till you can't stand +up. Anybody that'll take a dare will steal sheep." + +The new boy stepped over promptly, and said: + +"Now you said you'd do it, now let's see you do it." + +"Don't you crowd me now; you better look out." + +"Well, you SAID you'd do it--why don't you do it?" + +"By jingo! for two cents I WILL do it." + +The new boy took two broad coppers out of his pocket and held them out +with derision. Tom struck them to the ground. In an instant both boys +were rolling and tumbling in the dirt, gripped together like cats; and +for the space of a minute they tugged and tore at each other's hair and +clothes, punched and scratched each other's nose, and covered +themselves with dust and glory. Presently the confusion took form, and +through the fog of battle Tom appeared, seated astride the new boy, and +pounding him with his fists. "Holler 'nuff!" said he. + +The boy only struggled to free himself. He was crying--mainly from rage. + +"Holler 'nuff!"--and the pounding went on. + +At last the stranger got out a smothered "'Nuff!" and Tom let him up +and said: + +"Now that'll learn you. Better look out who you're fooling with next +time." + +The new boy went off brushing the dust from his clothes, sobbing, +snuffling, and occasionally looking back and shaking his head and +threatening what he would do to Tom the "next time he caught him out." +To which Tom responded with jeers, and started off in high feather, and +as soon as his back was turned the new boy snatched up a stone, threw +it and hit him between the shoulders and then turned tail and ran like +an antelope. Tom chased the traitor home, and thus found out where he +lived. He then held a position at the gate for some time, daring the +enemy to come outside, but the enemy only made faces at him through the +window and declined. At last the enemy's mother appeared, and called +Tom a bad, vicious, vulgar child, and ordered him away. So he went +away; but he said he "'lowed" to "lay" for that boy. + +He got home pretty late that night, and when he climbed cautiously in +at the window, he uncovered an ambuscade, in the person of his aunt; +and when she saw the state his clothes were in her resolution to turn +his Saturday holiday into captivity at hard labor became adamantine in +its firmness. + +CHAPTER II + +SATURDAY morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and +fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and if +the heart was young the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in +every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom +and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond +the village and above it, was green with vegetation and it lay just far +enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting. + +Tom appeared on the sidewalk with a bucket of whitewash and a +long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and all gladness left him and +a deep melancholy settled down upon his spirit. Thirty yards of board +fence nine feet high. Life to him seemed hollow, and existence but a +burden. Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost +plank; repeated the operation; did it again; compared the insignificant +whitewashed streak with the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed +fence, and sat down on a tree-box discouraged. Jim came skipping out at +the gate with a tin pail, and singing Buffalo Gals. Bringing water from +the town pump had always been hateful work in Tom's eyes, before, but +now it did not strike him so. He remembered that there was company at +the pump. White, mulatto, and negro boys and girls were always there +waiting their turns, resting, trading playthings, quarrelling, +fighting, skylarking. And he remembered that although the pump was only +a hundred and fifty yards off, Jim never got back with a bucket of +water under an hour--and even then somebody generally had to go after +him. Tom said: + +"Say, Jim, I'll fetch the water if you'll whitewash some." + +Jim shook his head and said: + +"Can't, Mars Tom. Ole missis, she tole me I got to go an' git dis +water an' not stop foolin' roun' wid anybody. She say she spec' Mars +Tom gwine to ax me to whitewash, an' so she tole me go 'long an' 'tend +to my own business--she 'lowed SHE'D 'tend to de whitewashin'." + +"Oh, never you mind what she said, Jim. That's the way she always +talks. Gimme the bucket--I won't be gone only a a minute. SHE won't +ever know." + +"Oh, I dasn't, Mars Tom. Ole missis she'd take an' tar de head off'n +me. 'Deed she would." + +"SHE! She never licks anybody--whacks 'em over the head with her +thimble--and who cares for that, I'd like to know. She talks awful, but +talk don't hurt--anyways it don't if she don't cry. Jim, I'll give you +a marvel. I'll give you a white alley!" + +Jim began to waver. + +"White alley, Jim! And it's a bully taw." + +"My! Dat's a mighty gay marvel, I tell you! But Mars Tom I's powerful +'fraid ole missis--" + +"And besides, if you will I'll show you my sore toe." + +Jim was only human--this attraction was too much for him. He put down +his pail, took the white alley, and bent over the toe with absorbing +interest while the bandage was being unwound. In another moment he was +flying down the street with his pail and a tingling rear, Tom was +whitewashing with vigor, and Aunt Polly was retiring from the field +with a slipper in her hand and triumph in her eye. + +But Tom's energy did not last. He began to think of the fun he had +planned for this day, and his sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys +would come tripping along on all sorts of delicious expeditions, and +they would make a world of fun of him for having to work--the very +thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and +examined it--bits of toys, marbles, and trash; enough to buy an +exchange of WORK, maybe, but not half enough to buy so much as half an +hour of pure freedom. So he returned his straitened means to his +pocket, and gave up the idea of trying to buy the boys. At this dark +and hopeless moment an inspiration burst upon him! Nothing less than a +great, magnificent inspiration. + +He took up his brush and went tranquilly to work. Ben Rogers hove in +sight presently--the very boy, of all boys, whose ridicule he had been +dreading. Ben's gait was the hop-skip-and-jump--proof enough that his +heart was light and his anticipations high. He was eating an apple, and +giving a long, melodious whoop, at intervals, followed by a deep-toned +ding-dong-dong, ding-dong-dong, for he was personating a steamboat. As +he drew near, he slackened speed, took the middle of the street, leaned +far over to starboard and rounded to ponderously and with laborious +pomp and circumstance--for he was personating the Big Missouri, and +considered himself to be drawing nine feet of water. He was boat and +captain and engine-bells combined, so he had to imagine himself +standing on his own hurricane-deck giving the orders and executing them: + +"Stop her, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling!" The headway ran almost out, and he +drew up slowly toward the sidewalk. + +"Ship up to back! Ting-a-ling-ling!" His arms straightened and +stiffened down his sides. + +"Set her back on the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow! ch-chow-wow! +Chow!" His right hand, meantime, describing stately circles--for it was +representing a forty-foot wheel. + +"Let her go back on the labboard! Ting-a-lingling! Chow-ch-chow-chow!" +The left hand began to describe circles. + +"Stop the stabboard! Ting-a-ling-ling! Stop the labboard! Come ahead +on the stabboard! Stop her! Let your outside turn over slow! +Ting-a-ling-ling! Chow-ow-ow! Get out that head-line! LIVELY now! +Come--out with your spring-line--what're you about there! Take a turn +round that stump with the bight of it! Stand by that stage, now--let her +go! Done with the engines, sir! Ting-a-ling-ling! SH'T! S'H'T! SH'T!" +(trying the gauge-cocks). + +Tom went on whitewashing--paid no attention to the steamboat. Ben +stared a moment and then said: "Hi-YI! YOU'RE up a stump, ain't you!" + +No answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then +he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result, as +before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the +apple, but he stuck to his work. Ben said: + +"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?" + +Tom wheeled suddenly and said: + +"Why, it's you, Ben! I warn't noticing." + +"Say--I'm going in a-swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of +course you'd druther WORK--wouldn't you? Course you would!" + +Tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said: + +"What do you call work?" + +"Why, ain't THAT work?" + +Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly: + +"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits Tom +Sawyer." + +"Oh come, now, you don't mean to let on that you LIKE it?" + +The brush continued to move. + +"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a boy get +a chance to whitewash a fence every day?" + +That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom +swept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note the +effect--added a touch here and there--criticised the effect again--Ben +watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more +absorbed. Presently he said: + +"Say, Tom, let ME whitewash a little." + +Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind: + +"No--no--I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's +awful particular about this fence--right here on the street, you know +--but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and SHE wouldn't. Yes, +she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very +careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two +thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done." + +"No--is that so? Oh come, now--lemme just try. Only just a little--I'd +let YOU, if you was me, Tom." + +"Ben, I'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Polly--well, Jim wanted to +do it, but she wouldn't let him; Sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't +let Sid. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this +fence and anything was to happen to it--" + +"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say--I'll give +you the core of my apple." + +"Well, here--No, Ben, now don't. I'm afeard--" + +"I'll give you ALL of it!" + +Tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his +heart. And while the late steamer Big Missouri worked and sweated in +the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, +dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more +innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every +little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. By the time +Ben was fagged out, Tom had traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for +a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, Johnny Miller bought in +for a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on, +hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, from being +a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, Tom was literally rolling +in wealth. He had besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, +part of a jews-harp, a piece of blue bottle-glass to look through, a +spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, +a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six +fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a +dog-collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces of +orange-peel, and a dilapidated old window sash. + +He had had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company +--and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out +of whitewash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. + +Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He +had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it--namely, +that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only +necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great +and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have +comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, +and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do. And +this would help him to understand why constructing artificial flowers +or performing on a tread-mill is work, while rolling ten-pins or +climbing Mont Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentlemen in +England who drive four-horse passenger-coaches twenty or thirty miles +on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them +considerable money; but if they were offered wages for the service, +that would turn it into work and then they would resign. + +The boy mused awhile over the substantial change which had taken place +in his worldly circumstances, and then wended toward headquarters to +report. + +CHAPTER III + +TOM presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by an open +window in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom, +breakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined. The balmy summer +air, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsing murmur +of the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over her knitting +--for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in her lap. Her +spectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She had thought +that of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered at seeing him +place himself in her power again in this intrepid way. He said: "Mayn't +I go and play now, aunt?" + +"What, a'ready? How much have you done?" + +"It's all done, aunt." + +"Tom, don't lie to me--I can't bear it." + +"I ain't, aunt; it IS all done." + +Aunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see +for herself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. +of Tom's statement true. When she found the entire fence whitewashed, +and not only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even +a streak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. +She said: + +"Well, I never! There's no getting round it, you can work when you're +a mind to, Tom." And then she diluted the compliment by adding, "But +it's powerful seldom you're a mind to, I'm bound to say. Well, go 'long +and play; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I'll tan you." + +She was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she took +him into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to +him, along with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a +treat took to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort. +And while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he "hooked" a +doughnut. + +Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway +that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and +the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a +hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties +and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, +and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general +thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at +peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his +black thread and getting him into trouble. + +Tom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by +the back of his aunt's cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond the +reach of capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square +of the village, where two "military" companies of boys had met for +conflict, according to previous appointment. Tom was General of one of +these armies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. These +two great commanders did not condescend to fight in person--that being +better suited to the still smaller fry--but sat together on an eminence +and conducted the field operations by orders delivered through +aides-de-camp. Tom's army won a great victory, after a long and +hard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged, +the terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for the +necessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line and +marched away, and Tom turned homeward alone. + +As he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a new +girl in the garden--a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellow hair +plaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroidered +pantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. A +certain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even a +memory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction; +he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor +little evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she had +confessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudest +boy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of time +she had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit is +done. + +He worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she +had discovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, +and began to "show off" in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to +win her admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some +time; but by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous +gymnastic performances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl +was wending her way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and +leaned on it, grieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. +She halted a moment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom +heaved a great sigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face +lit up, right away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment +before she disappeared. + +The boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, and +then shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street as if +he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction. +Presently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on his +nose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side, +in his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finally +his bare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he +hopped away with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. But +only for a minute--only while he could button the flower inside his +jacket, next his heart--or next his stomach, possibly, for he was not +much posted in anatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway. + +He returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, "showing +off," as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tom +comforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near some +window, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strode +home reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions. + +All through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered +"what had got into the child." He took a good scolding about clodding +Sid, and did not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar +under his aunt's very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said: + +"Aunt, you don't whack Sid when he takes it." + +"Well, Sid don't torment a body the way you do. You'd be always into +that sugar if I warn't watching you." + +Presently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his +immunity, reached for the sugar-bowl--a sort of glorying over Tom which +was wellnigh unbearable. But Sid's fingers slipped and the bowl dropped +and broke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even +controlled his tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he would +not speak a word, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly +still till she asked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, and +there would be nothing so good in the world as to see that pet model +"catch it." He was so brimful of exultation that he could hardly hold +himself when the old lady came back and stood above the wreck +discharging lightnings of wrath from over her spectacles. He said to +himself, "Now it's coming!" And the next instant he was sprawling on +the floor! The potent palm was uplifted to strike again when Tom cried +out: + +"Hold on, now, what 'er you belting ME for?--Sid broke it!" + +Aunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But +when she got her tongue again, she only said: + +"Umf! Well, you didn't get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into some +other audacious mischief when I wasn't around, like enough." + +Then her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say something +kind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into a +confession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that. +So she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart. +Tom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heart +his aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by the +consciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take notice +of none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then, +through a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He pictured +himself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseeching +one little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, and +die with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he pictured +himself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, and +his sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and how +her tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her back +her boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he would lie +there cold and white and make no sign--a poor little sufferer, whose +griefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos +of these dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to +choke; and his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he +winked, and ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a +luxury to him was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear +to have any worldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it; +it was too sacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin +Mary danced in, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an +age-long visit of one week to the country, he got up and moved in +clouds and darkness out at one door as she brought song and sunshine in +at the other. + +He wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought +desolate places that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the +river invited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and +contemplated the dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, +that he could only be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without +undergoing the uncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought +of his flower. He got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily +increased his dismal felicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she +knew? Would she cry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms +around his neck and comfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all +the hollow world? This picture brought such an agony of pleasurable +suffering that he worked it over and over again in his mind and set it +up in new and varied lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he +rose up sighing and departed in the darkness. + +About half-past nine or ten o'clock he came along the deserted street +to where the Adored Unknown lived; he paused a moment; no sound fell +upon his listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon the +curtain of a second-story window. Was the sacred presence there? He +climbed the fence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till +he stood under that window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion; +then he laid him down on the ground under it, disposing himself upon +his back, with his hands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor +wilted flower. And thus he would die--out in the cold world, with no +shelter over his homeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the +death-damps from his brow, no loving face to bend pityingly over him +when the great agony came. And thus SHE would see him when she looked +out upon the glad morning, and oh! would she drop one little tear upon +his poor, lifeless form, would she heave one little sigh to see a bright +young life so rudely blighted, so untimely cut down? + +The window went up, a maid-servant's discordant voice profaned the +holy calm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr's remains! + +The strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whiz +as of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a sound +as of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over the +fence and shot away in the gloom. + +Not long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying his +drenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if he +had any dim idea of making any "references to allusions," he thought +better of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom's eye. + +Tom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made +mental note of the omission. + +CHAPTER IV + +THE sun rose upon a tranquil world, and beamed down upon the peaceful +village like a benediction. Breakfast over, Aunt Polly had family +worship: it began with a prayer built from the ground up of solid +courses of Scriptural quotations, welded together with a thin mortar of +originality; and from the summit of this she delivered a grim chapter +of the Mosaic Law, as from Sinai. + +Then Tom girded up his loins, so to speak, and went to work to "get +his verses." Sid had learned his lesson days before. Tom bent all his +energies to the memorizing of five verses, and he chose part of the +Sermon on the Mount, because he could find no verses that were shorter. +At the end of half an hour Tom had a vague general idea of his lesson, +but no more, for his mind was traversing the whole field of human +thought, and his hands were busy with distracting recreations. Mary +took his book to hear him recite, and he tried to find his way through +the fog: + +"Blessed are the--a--a--" + +"Poor"-- + +"Yes--poor; blessed are the poor--a--a--" + +"In spirit--" + +"In spirit; blessed are the poor in spirit, for they--they--" + +"THEIRS--" + +"For THEIRS. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom +of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn, for they--they--" + +"Sh--" + +"For they--a--" + +"S, H, A--" + +"For they S, H--Oh, I don't know what it is!" + +"SHALL!" + +"Oh, SHALL! for they shall--for they shall--a--a--shall mourn--a--a-- +blessed are they that shall--they that--a--they that shall mourn, for +they shall--a--shall WHAT? Why don't you tell me, Mary?--what do you +want to be so mean for?" + +"Oh, Tom, you poor thick-headed thing, I'm not teasing you. I wouldn't +do that. You must go and learn it again. Don't you be discouraged, Tom, +you'll manage it--and if you do, I'll give you something ever so nice. +There, now, that's a good boy." + +"All right! What is it, Mary, tell me what it is." + +"Never you mind, Tom. You know if I say it's nice, it is nice." + +"You bet you that's so, Mary. All right, I'll tackle it again." + +And he did "tackle it again"--and under the double pressure of +curiosity and prospective gain he did it with such spirit that he +accomplished a shining success. Mary gave him a brand-new "Barlow" +knife worth twelve and a half cents; and the convulsion of delight that +swept his system shook him to his foundations. True, the knife would +not cut anything, but it was a "sure-enough" Barlow, and there was +inconceivable grandeur in that--though where the Western boys ever got +the idea that such a weapon could possibly be counterfeited to its +injury is an imposing mystery and will always remain so, perhaps. Tom +contrived to scarify the cupboard with it, and was arranging to begin +on the bureau, when he was called off to dress for Sunday-school. + +Mary gave him a tin basin of water and a piece of soap, and he went +outside the door and set the basin on a little bench there; then he +dipped the soap in the water and laid it down; turned up his sleeves; +poured out the water on the ground, gently, and then entered the +kitchen and began to wipe his face diligently on the towel behind the +door. But Mary removed the towel and said: + +"Now ain't you ashamed, Tom. You mustn't be so bad. Water won't hurt +you." + +Tom was a trifle disconcerted. The basin was refilled, and this time +he stood over it a little while, gathering resolution; took in a big +breath and began. When he entered the kitchen presently, with both eyes +shut and groping for the towel with his hands, an honorable testimony +of suds and water was dripping from his face. But when he emerged from +the towel, he was not yet satisfactory, for the clean territory stopped +short at his chin and his jaws, like a mask; below and beyond this line +there was a dark expanse of unirrigated soil that spread downward in +front and backward around his neck. Mary took him in hand, and when she +was done with him he was a man and a brother, without distinction of +color, and his saturated hair was neatly brushed, and its short curls +wrought into a dainty and symmetrical general effect. [He privately +smoothed out the curls, with labor and difficulty, and plastered his +hair close down to his head; for he held curls to be effeminate, and +his own filled his life with bitterness.] Then Mary got out a suit of +his clothing that had been used only on Sundays during two years--they +were simply called his "other clothes"--and so by that we know the +size of his wardrobe. The girl "put him to rights" after he had dressed +himself; she buttoned his neat roundabout up to his chin, turned his +vast shirt collar down over his shoulders, brushed him off and crowned +him with his speckled straw hat. He now looked exceedingly improved and +uncomfortable. He was fully as uncomfortable as he looked; for there +was a restraint about whole clothes and cleanliness that galled him. He +hoped that Mary would forget his shoes, but the hope was blighted; she +coated them thoroughly with tallow, as was the custom, and brought them +out. He lost his temper and said he was always being made to do +everything he didn't want to do. But Mary said, persuasively: + +"Please, Tom--that's a good boy." + +So he got into the shoes snarling. Mary was soon ready, and the three +children set out for Sunday-school--a place that Tom hated with his +whole heart; but Sid and Mary were fond of it. + +Sabbath-school hours were from nine to half-past ten; and then church +service. Two of the children always remained for the sermon +voluntarily, and the other always remained too--for stronger reasons. +The church's high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about three +hundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort +of pine board tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom +dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade: + +"Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?" + +"Yes." + +"What'll you take for her?" + +"What'll you give?" + +"Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook." + +"Less see 'em." + +Tom exhibited. They were satisfactory, and the property changed hands. +Then Tom traded a couple of white alleys for three red tickets, and +some small trifle or other for a couple of blue ones. He waylaid other +boys as they came, and went on buying tickets of various colors ten or +fifteen minutes longer. He entered the church, now, with a swarm of +clean and noisy boys and girls, proceeded to his seat and started a +quarrel with the first boy that came handy. The teacher, a grave, +elderly man, interfered; then turned his back a moment and Tom pulled a +boy's hair in the next bench, and was absorbed in his book when the boy +turned around; stuck a pin in another boy, presently, in order to hear +him say "Ouch!" and got a new reprimand from his teacher. Tom's whole +class were of a pattern--restless, noisy, and troublesome. When they +came to recite their lessons, not one of them knew his verses +perfectly, but had to be prompted all along. However, they worried +through, and each got his reward--in small blue tickets, each with a +passage of Scripture on it; each blue ticket was pay for two verses of +the recitation. Ten blue tickets equalled a red one, and could be +exchanged for it; ten red tickets equalled a yellow one; for ten yellow +tickets the superintendent gave a very plainly bound Bible (worth forty +cents in those easy times) to the pupil. How many of my readers would +have the industry and application to memorize two thousand verses, even +for a Dore Bible? And yet Mary had acquired two Bibles in this way--it +was the patient work of two years--and a boy of German parentage had +won four or five. He once recited three thousand verses without +stopping; but the strain upon his mental faculties was too great, and +he was little better than an idiot from that day forth--a grievous +misfortune for the school, for on great occasions, before company, the +superintendent (as Tom expressed it) had always made this boy come out +and "spread himself." Only the older pupils managed to keep their +tickets and stick to their tedious work long enough to get a Bible, and +so the delivery of one of these prizes was a rare and noteworthy +circumstance; the successful pupil was so great and conspicuous for +that day that on the spot every scholar's heart was fired with a fresh +ambition that often lasted a couple of weeks. It is possible that Tom's +mental stomach had never really hungered for one of those prizes, but +unquestionably his entire being had for many a day longed for the glory +and the eclat that came with it. + +In due course the superintendent stood up in front of the pulpit, with +a closed hymn-book in his hand and his forefinger inserted between its +leaves, and commanded attention. When a Sunday-school superintendent +makes his customary little speech, a hymn-book in the hand is as +necessary as is the inevitable sheet of music in the hand of a singer +who stands forward on the platform and sings a solo at a concert +--though why, is a mystery: for neither the hymn-book nor the sheet of +music is ever referred to by the sufferer. This superintendent was a +slim creature of thirty-five, with a sandy goatee and short sandy hair; +he wore a stiff standing-collar whose upper edge almost reached his +ears and whose sharp points curved forward abreast the corners of his +mouth--a fence that compelled a straight lookout ahead, and a turning +of the whole body when a side view was required; his chin was propped +on a spreading cravat which was as broad and as long as a bank-note, +and had fringed ends; his boot toes were turned sharply up, in the +fashion of the day, like sleigh-runners--an effect patiently and +laboriously produced by the young men by sitting with their toes +pressed against a wall for hours together. Mr. Walters was very earnest +of mien, and very sincere and honest at heart; and he held sacred +things and places in such reverence, and so separated them from worldly +matters, that unconsciously to himself his Sunday-school voice had +acquired a peculiar intonation which was wholly absent on week-days. He +began after this fashion: + +"Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty +as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There +--that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see +one little girl who is looking out of the window--I am afraid she +thinks I am out there somewhere--perhaps up in one of the trees making +a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] I want to tell you +how good it makes me feel to see so many bright, clean little faces +assembled in a place like this, learning to do right and be good." And +so forth and so on. It is not necessary to set down the rest of the +oration. It was of a pattern which does not vary, and so it is familiar +to us all. + +The latter third of the speech was marred by the resumption of fights +and other recreations among certain of the bad boys, and by fidgetings +and whisperings that extended far and wide, washing even to the bases +of isolated and incorruptible rocks like Sid and Mary. But now every +sound ceased suddenly, with the subsidence of Mr. Walters' voice, and +the conclusion of the speech was received with a burst of silent +gratitude. + +A good part of the whispering had been occasioned by an event which +was more or less rare--the entrance of visitors: lawyer Thatcher, +accompanied by a very feeble and aged man; a fine, portly, middle-aged +gentleman with iron-gray hair; and a dignified lady who was doubtless +the latter's wife. The lady was leading a child. Tom had been restless +and full of chafings and repinings; conscience-smitten, too--he could +not meet Amy Lawrence's eye, he could not brook her loving gaze. But +when he saw this small new-comer his soul was all ablaze with bliss in +a moment. The next moment he was "showing off" with all his might +--cuffing boys, pulling hair, making faces--in a word, using every art +that seemed likely to fascinate a girl and win her applause. His +exaltation had but one alloy--the memory of his humiliation in this +angel's garden--and that record in sand was fast washing out, under +the waves of happiness that were sweeping over it now. + +The visitors were given the highest seat of honor, and as soon as Mr. +Walters' speech was finished, he introduced them to the school. The +middle-aged man turned out to be a prodigious personage--no less a one +than the county judge--altogether the most august creation these +children had ever looked upon--and they wondered what kind of material +he was made of--and they half wanted to hear him roar, and were half +afraid he might, too. He was from Constantinople, twelve miles away--so +he had travelled, and seen the world--these very eyes had looked upon +the county court-house--which was said to have a tin roof. The awe +which these reflections inspired was attested by the impressive silence +and the ranks of staring eyes. This was the great Judge Thatcher, +brother of their own lawyer. Jeff Thatcher immediately went forward, to +be familiar with the great man and be envied by the school. It would +have been music to his soul to hear the whisperings: + +"Look at him, Jim! He's a going up there. Say--look! he's a going to +shake hands with him--he IS shaking hands with him! By jings, don't you +wish you was Jeff?" + +Mr. Walters fell to "showing off," with all sorts of official +bustlings and activities, giving orders, delivering judgments, +discharging directions here, there, everywhere that he could find a +target. The librarian "showed off"--running hither and thither with his +arms full of books and making a deal of the splutter and fuss that +insect authority delights in. The young lady teachers "showed off" +--bending sweetly over pupils that were lately being boxed, lifting +pretty warning fingers at bad little boys and patting good ones +lovingly. The young gentlemen teachers "showed off" with small +scoldings and other little displays of authority and fine attention to +discipline--and most of the teachers, of both sexes, found business up +at the library, by the pulpit; and it was business that frequently had +to be done over again two or three times (with much seeming vexation). +The little girls "showed off" in various ways, and the little boys +"showed off" with such diligence that the air was thick with paper wads +and the murmur of scufflings. And above it all the great man sat and +beamed a majestic judicial smile upon all the house, and warmed himself +in the sun of his own grandeur--for he was "showing off," too. + +There was only one thing wanting to make Mr. Walters' ecstasy +complete, and that was a chance to deliver a Bible-prize and exhibit a +prodigy. Several pupils had a few yellow tickets, but none had enough +--he had been around among the star pupils inquiring. He would have given +worlds, now, to have that German lad back again with a sound mind. + +And now at this moment, when hope was dead, Tom Sawyer came forward +with nine yellow tickets, nine red tickets, and ten blue ones, and +demanded a Bible. This was a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. Walters +was not expecting an application from this source for the next ten +years. But there was no getting around it--here were the certified +checks, and they were good for their face. Tom was therefore elevated +to a place with the Judge and the other elect, and the great news was +announced from headquarters. It was the most stunning surprise of the +decade, and so profound was the sensation that it lifted the new hero +up to the judicial one's altitude, and the school had two marvels to +gaze upon in place of one. The boys were all eaten up with envy--but +those that suffered the bitterest pangs were those who perceived too +late that they themselves had contributed to this hated splendor by +trading tickets to Tom for the wealth he had amassed in selling +whitewashing privileges. These despised themselves, as being the dupes +of a wily fraud, a guileful snake in the grass. + +The prize was delivered to Tom with as much effusion as the +superintendent could pump up under the circumstances; but it lacked +somewhat of the true gush, for the poor fellow's instinct taught him +that there was a mystery here that could not well bear the light, +perhaps; it was simply preposterous that this boy had warehoused two +thousand sheaves of Scriptural wisdom on his premises--a dozen would +strain his capacity, without a doubt. + +Amy Lawrence was proud and glad, and she tried to make Tom see it in +her face--but he wouldn't look. She wondered; then she was just a grain +troubled; next a dim suspicion came and went--came again; she watched; +a furtive glance told her worlds--and then her heart broke, and she was +jealous, and angry, and the tears came and she hated everybody. Tom +most of all (she thought). + +Tom was introduced to the Judge; but his tongue was tied, his breath +would hardly come, his heart quaked--partly because of the awful +greatness of the man, but mainly because he was her parent. He would +have liked to fall down and worship him, if it were in the dark. The +Judge put his hand on Tom's head and called him a fine little man, and +asked him what his name was. The boy stammered, gasped, and got it out: + +"Tom." + +"Oh, no, not Tom--it is--" + +"Thomas." + +"Ah, that's it. I thought there was more to it, maybe. That's very +well. But you've another one I daresay, and you'll tell it to me, won't +you?" + +"Tell the gentleman your other name, Thomas," said Walters, "and say +sir. You mustn't forget your manners." + +"Thomas Sawyer--sir." + +"That's it! That's a good boy. Fine boy. Fine, manly little fellow. +Two thousand verses is a great many--very, very great many. And you +never can be sorry for the trouble you took to learn them; for +knowledge is worth more than anything there is in the world; it's what +makes great men and good men; you'll be a great man and a good man +yourself, some day, Thomas, and then you'll look back and say, It's all +owing to the precious Sunday-school privileges of my boyhood--it's all +owing to my dear teachers that taught me to learn--it's all owing to +the good superintendent, who encouraged me, and watched over me, and +gave me a beautiful Bible--a splendid elegant Bible--to keep and have +it all for my own, always--it's all owing to right bringing up! That is +what you will say, Thomas--and you wouldn't take any money for those +two thousand verses--no indeed you wouldn't. And now you wouldn't mind +telling me and this lady some of the things you've learned--no, I know +you wouldn't--for we are proud of little boys that learn. Now, no +doubt you know the names of all the twelve disciples. Won't you tell us +the names of the first two that were appointed?" + +Tom was tugging at a button-hole and looking sheepish. He blushed, +now, and his eyes fell. Mr. Walters' heart sank within him. He said to +himself, it is not possible that the boy can answer the simplest +question--why DID the Judge ask him? Yet he felt obliged to speak up +and say: + +"Answer the gentleman, Thomas--don't be afraid." + +Tom still hung fire. + +"Now I know you'll tell me," said the lady. "The names of the first +two disciples were--" + +"DAVID AND GOLIAH!" + +Let us draw the curtain of charity over the rest of the scene. + +CHAPTER V + +ABOUT half-past ten the cracked bell of the small church began to +ring, and presently the people began to gather for the morning sermon. +The Sunday-school children distributed themselves about the house and +occupied pews with their parents, so as to be under supervision. Aunt +Polly came, and Tom and Sid and Mary sat with her--Tom being placed +next the aisle, in order that he might be as far away from the open +window and the seductive outside summer scenes as possible. The crowd +filed up the aisles: the aged and needy postmaster, who had seen better +days; the mayor and his wife--for they had a mayor there, among other +unnecessaries; the justice of the peace; the widow Douglass, fair, +smart, and forty, a generous, good-hearted soul and well-to-do, her +hill mansion the only palace in the town, and the most hospitable and +much the most lavish in the matter of festivities that St. Petersburg +could boast; the bent and venerable Major and Mrs. Ward; lawyer +Riverson, the new notable from a distance; next the belle of the +village, followed by a troop of lawn-clad and ribbon-decked young +heart-breakers; then all the young clerks in town in a body--for they +had stood in the vestibule sucking their cane-heads, a circling wall of +oiled and simpering admirers, till the last girl had run their gantlet; +and last of all came the Model Boy, Willie Mufferson, taking as heedful +care of his mother as if she were cut glass. He always brought his +mother to church, and was the pride of all the matrons. The boys all +hated him, he was so good. And besides, he had been "thrown up to them" +so much. His white handkerchief was hanging out of his pocket behind, as +usual on Sundays--accidentally. Tom had no handkerchief, and he looked +upon boys who had as snobs. + +The congregation being fully assembled, now, the bell rang once more, +to warn laggards and stragglers, and then a solemn hush fell upon the +church which was only broken by the tittering and whispering of the +choir in the gallery. The choir always tittered and whispered all +through service. There was once a church choir that was not ill-bred, +but I have forgotten where it was, now. It was a great many years ago, +and I can scarcely remember anything about it, but I think it was in +some foreign country. + +The minister gave out the hymn, and read it through with a relish, in +a peculiar style which was much admired in that part of the country. +His voice began on a medium key and climbed steadily up till it reached +a certain point, where it bore with strong emphasis upon the topmost +word and then plunged down as if from a spring-board: + + Shall I be car-ri-ed toe the skies, on flow'ry BEDS of ease, + + Whilst others fight to win the prize, and sail thro' BLOODY seas? + +He was regarded as a wonderful reader. At church "sociables" he was +always called upon to read poetry; and when he was through, the ladies +would lift up their hands and let them fall helplessly in their laps, +and "wall" their eyes, and shake their heads, as much as to say, "Words +cannot express it; it is too beautiful, TOO beautiful for this mortal +earth." + +After the hymn had been sung, the Rev. Mr. Sprague turned himself into +a bulletin-board, and read off "notices" of meetings and societies and +things till it seemed that the list would stretch out to the crack of +doom--a queer custom which is still kept up in America, even in cities, +away here in this age of abundant newspapers. Often, the less there is +to justify a traditional custom, the harder it is to get rid of it. + +And now the minister prayed. A good, generous prayer it was, and went +into details: it pleaded for the church, and the little children of the +church; for the other churches of the village; for the village itself; +for the county; for the State; for the State officers; for the United +States; for the churches of the United States; for Congress; for the +President; for the officers of the Government; for poor sailors, tossed +by stormy seas; for the oppressed millions groaning under the heel of +European monarchies and Oriental despotisms; for such as have the light +and the good tidings, and yet have not eyes to see nor ears to hear +withal; for the heathen in the far islands of the sea; and closed with +a supplication that the words he was about to speak might find grace +and favor, and be as seed sown in fertile ground, yielding in time a +grateful harvest of good. Amen. + +There was a rustling of dresses, and the standing congregation sat +down. The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer, +he only endured it--if he even did that much. He was restive all +through it; he kept tally of the details of the prayer, unconsciously +--for he was not listening, but he knew the ground of old, and the +clergyman's regular route over it--and when a little trifle of new +matter was interlarded, his ear detected it and his whole nature +resented it; he considered additions unfair, and scoundrelly. In the +midst of the prayer a fly had lit on the back of the pew in front of +him and tortured his spirit by calmly rubbing its hands together, +embracing its head with its arms, and polishing it so vigorously that +it seemed to almost part company with the body, and the slender thread +of a neck was exposed to view; scraping its wings with its hind legs +and smoothing them to its body as if they had been coat-tails; going +through its whole toilet as tranquilly as if it knew it was perfectly +safe. As indeed it was; for as sorely as Tom's hands itched to grab for +it they did not dare--he believed his soul would be instantly destroyed +if he did such a thing while the prayer was going on. But with the +closing sentence his hand began to curve and steal forward; and the +instant the "Amen" was out the fly was a prisoner of war. His aunt +detected the act and made him let it go. + +The minister gave out his text and droned along monotonously through +an argument that was so prosy that many a head by and by began to nod +--and yet it was an argument that dealt in limitless fire and brimstone +and thinned the predestined elect down to a company so small as to be +hardly worth the saving. Tom counted the pages of the sermon; after +church he always knew how many pages there had been, but he seldom knew +anything else about the discourse. However, this time he was really +interested for a little while. The minister made a grand and moving +picture of the assembling together of the world's hosts at the +millennium when the lion and the lamb should lie down together and a +little child should lead them. But the pathos, the lesson, the moral of +the great spectacle were lost upon the boy; he only thought of the +conspicuousness of the principal character before the on-looking +nations; his face lit with the thought, and he said to himself that he +wished he could be that child, if it was a tame lion. + +Now he lapsed into suffering again, as the dry argument was resumed. +Presently he bethought him of a treasure he had and got it out. It was +a large black beetle with formidable jaws--a "pinchbug," he called it. +It was in a percussion-cap box. The first thing the beetle did was to +take him by the finger. A natural fillip followed, the beetle went +floundering into the aisle and lit on its back, and the hurt finger +went into the boy's mouth. The beetle lay there working its helpless +legs, unable to turn over. Tom eyed it, and longed for it; but it was +safe out of his reach. Other people uninterested in the sermon found +relief in the beetle, and they eyed it too. Presently a vagrant poodle +dog came idling along, sad at heart, lazy with the summer softness and +the quiet, weary of captivity, sighing for change. He spied the beetle; +the drooping tail lifted and wagged. He surveyed the prize; walked +around it; smelt at it from a safe distance; walked around it again; +grew bolder, and took a closer smell; then lifted his lip and made a +gingerly snatch at it, just missing it; made another, and another; +began to enjoy the diversion; subsided to his stomach with the beetle +between his paws, and continued his experiments; grew weary at last, +and then indifferent and absent-minded. His head nodded, and little by +little his chin descended and touched the enemy, who seized it. There +was a sharp yelp, a flirt of the poodle's head, and the beetle fell a +couple of yards away, and lit on its back once more. The neighboring +spectators shook with a gentle inward joy, several faces went behind +fans and handkerchiefs, and Tom was entirely happy. The dog looked +foolish, and probably felt so; but there was resentment in his heart, +too, and a craving for revenge. So he went to the beetle and began a +wary attack on it again; jumping at it from every point of a circle, +lighting with his fore-paws within an inch of the creature, making even +closer snatches at it with his teeth, and jerking his head till his +ears flapped again. But he grew tired once more, after a while; tried +to amuse himself with a fly but found no relief; followed an ant +around, with his nose close to the floor, and quickly wearied of that; +yawned, sighed, forgot the beetle entirely, and sat down on it. Then +there was a wild yelp of agony and the poodle went sailing up the +aisle; the yelps continued, and so did the dog; he crossed the house in +front of the altar; he flew down the other aisle; he crossed before the +doors; he clamored up the home-stretch; his anguish grew with his +progress, till presently he was but a woolly comet moving in its orbit +with the gleam and the speed of light. At last the frantic sufferer +sheered from its course, and sprang into its master's lap; he flung it +out of the window, and the voice of distress quickly thinned away and +died in the distance. + +By this time the whole church was red-faced and suffocating with +suppressed laughter, and the sermon had come to a dead standstill. The +discourse was resumed presently, but it went lame and halting, all +possibility of impressiveness being at an end; for even the gravest +sentiments were constantly being received with a smothered burst of +unholy mirth, under cover of some remote pew-back, as if the poor +parson had said a rarely facetious thing. It was a genuine relief to +the whole congregation when the ordeal was over and the benediction +pronounced. + +Tom Sawyer went home quite cheerful, thinking to himself that there +was some satisfaction about divine service when there was a bit of +variety in it. He had but one marring thought; he was willing that the +dog should play with his pinchbug, but he did not think it was upright +in him to carry it off. + +CHAPTER VI + +MONDAY morning found Tom Sawyer miserable. Monday morning always found +him so--because it began another week's slow suffering in school. He +generally began that day with wishing he had had no intervening +holiday, it made the going into captivity and fetters again so much +more odious. + +Tom lay thinking. Presently it occurred to him that he wished he was +sick; then he could stay home from school. Here was a vague +possibility. He canvassed his system. No ailment was found, and he +investigated again. This time he thought he could detect colicky +symptoms, and he began to encourage them with considerable hope. But +they soon grew feeble, and presently died wholly away. He reflected +further. Suddenly he discovered something. One of his upper front teeth +was loose. This was lucky; he was about to begin to groan, as a +"starter," as he called it, when it occurred to him that if he came +into court with that argument, his aunt would pull it out, and that +would hurt. So he thought he would hold the tooth in reserve for the +present, and seek further. Nothing offered for some little time, and +then he remembered hearing the doctor tell about a certain thing that +laid up a patient for two or three weeks and threatened to make him +lose a finger. So the boy eagerly drew his sore toe from under the +sheet and held it up for inspection. But now he did not know the +necessary symptoms. However, it seemed well worth while to chance it, +so he fell to groaning with considerable spirit. + +But Sid slept on unconscious. + +Tom groaned louder, and fancied that he began to feel pain in the toe. + +No result from Sid. + +Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and +then swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans. + +Sid snored on. + +Tom was aggravated. He said, "Sid, Sid!" and shook him. This course +worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then +brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at +Tom. Tom went on groaning. Sid said: + +"Tom! Say, Tom!" [No response.] "Here, Tom! TOM! What is the matter, +Tom?" And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously. + +Tom moaned out: + +"Oh, don't, Sid. Don't joggle me." + +"Why, what's the matter, Tom? I must call auntie." + +"No--never mind. It'll be over by and by, maybe. Don't call anybody." + +"But I must! DON'T groan so, Tom, it's awful. How long you been this +way?" + +"Hours. Ouch! Oh, don't stir so, Sid, you'll kill me." + +"Tom, why didn't you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, DON'T! It makes my +flesh crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?" + +"I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you've ever done +to me. When I'm gone--" + +"Oh, Tom, you ain't dying, are you? Don't, Tom--oh, don't. Maybe--" + +"I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell 'em so, Sid. And Sid, you +give my window-sash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that's +come to town, and tell her--" + +But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in +reality, now, so handsomely was his imagination working, and so his +groans had gathered quite a genuine tone. + +Sid flew down-stairs and said: + +"Oh, Aunt Polly, come! Tom's dying!" + +"Dying!" + +"Yes'm. Don't wait--come quick!" + +"Rubbage! I don't believe it!" + +But she fled up-stairs, nevertheless, with Sid and Mary at her heels. +And her face grew white, too, and her lip trembled. When she reached +the bedside she gasped out: + +"You, Tom! Tom, what's the matter with you?" + +"Oh, auntie, I'm--" + +"What's the matter with you--what is the matter with you, child?" + +"Oh, auntie, my sore toe's mortified!" + +The old lady sank down into a chair and laughed a little, then cried a +little, then did both together. This restored her and she said: + +"Tom, what a turn you did give me. Now you shut up that nonsense and +climb out of this." + +The groans ceased and the pain vanished from the toe. The boy felt a +little foolish, and he said: + +"Aunt Polly, it SEEMED mortified, and it hurt so I never minded my +tooth at all." + +"Your tooth, indeed! What's the matter with your tooth?" + +"One of them's loose, and it aches perfectly awful." + +"There, there, now, don't begin that groaning again. Open your mouth. +Well--your tooth IS loose, but you're not going to die about that. +Mary, get me a silk thread, and a chunk of fire out of the kitchen." + +Tom said: + +"Oh, please, auntie, don't pull it out. It don't hurt any more. I wish +I may never stir if it does. Please don't, auntie. I don't want to stay +home from school." + +"Oh, you don't, don't you? So all this row was because you thought +you'd get to stay home from school and go a-fishing? Tom, Tom, I love +you so, and you seem to try every way you can to break my old heart +with your outrageousness." By this time the dental instruments were +ready. The old lady made one end of the silk thread fast to Tom's tooth +with a loop and tied the other to the bedpost. Then she seized the +chunk of fire and suddenly thrust it almost into the boy's face. The +tooth hung dangling by the bedpost, now. + +But all trials bring their compensations. As Tom wended to school +after breakfast, he was the envy of every boy he met because the gap in +his upper row of teeth enabled him to expectorate in a new and +admirable way. He gathered quite a following of lads interested in the +exhibition; and one that had cut his finger and had been a centre of +fascination and homage up to this time, now found himself suddenly +without an adherent, and shorn of his glory. His heart was heavy, and +he said with a disdain which he did not feel that it wasn't anything to +spit like Tom Sawyer; but another boy said, "Sour grapes!" and he +wandered away a dismantled hero. + +Shortly Tom came upon the juvenile pariah of the village, Huckleberry +Finn, son of the town drunkard. Huckleberry was cordially hated and +dreaded by all the mothers of the town, because he was idle and lawless +and vulgar and bad--and because all their children admired him so, and +delighted in his forbidden society, and wished they dared to be like +him. Tom was like the rest of the respectable boys, in that he envied +Huckleberry his gaudy outcast condition, and was under strict orders +not to play with him. So he played with him every time he got a chance. +Huckleberry was always dressed in the cast-off clothes of full-grown +men, and they were in perennial bloom and fluttering with rags. His hat +was a vast ruin with a wide crescent lopped out of its brim; his coat, +when he wore one, hung nearly to his heels and had the rearward buttons +far down the back; but one suspender supported his trousers; the seat +of the trousers bagged low and contained nothing, the fringed legs +dragged in the dirt when not rolled up. + +Huckleberry came and went, at his own free will. He slept on doorsteps +in fine weather and in empty hogsheads in wet; he did not have to go to +school or to church, or call any being master or obey anybody; he could +go fishing or swimming when and where he chose, and stay as long as it +suited him; nobody forbade him to fight; he could sit up as late as he +pleased; he was always the first boy that went barefoot in the spring +and the last to resume leather in the fall; he never had to wash, nor +put on clean clothes; he could swear wonderfully. In a word, everything +that goes to make life precious that boy had. So thought every +harassed, hampered, respectable boy in St. Petersburg. + +Tom hailed the romantic outcast: + +"Hello, Huckleberry!" + +"Hello yourself, and see how you like it." + +"What's that you got?" + +"Dead cat." + +"Lemme see him, Huck. My, he's pretty stiff. Where'd you get him?" + +"Bought him off'n a boy." + +"What did you give?" + +"I give a blue ticket and a bladder that I got at the slaughter-house." + +"Where'd you get the blue ticket?" + +"Bought it off'n Ben Rogers two weeks ago for a hoop-stick." + +"Say--what is dead cats good for, Huck?" + +"Good for? Cure warts with." + +"No! Is that so? I know something that's better." + +"I bet you don't. What is it?" + +"Why, spunk-water." + +"Spunk-water! I wouldn't give a dern for spunk-water." + +"You wouldn't, wouldn't you? D'you ever try it?" + +"No, I hain't. But Bob Tanner did." + +"Who told you so!" + +"Why, he told Jeff Thatcher, and Jeff told Johnny Baker, and Johnny +told Jim Hollis, and Jim told Ben Rogers, and Ben told a nigger, and +the nigger told me. There now!" + +"Well, what of it? They'll all lie. Leastways all but the nigger. I +don't know HIM. But I never see a nigger that WOULDN'T lie. Shucks! Now +you tell me how Bob Tanner done it, Huck." + +"Why, he took and dipped his hand in a rotten stump where the +rain-water was." + +"In the daytime?" + +"Certainly." + +"With his face to the stump?" + +"Yes. Least I reckon so." + +"Did he say anything?" + +"I don't reckon he did. I don't know." + +"Aha! Talk about trying to cure warts with spunk-water such a blame +fool way as that! Why, that ain't a-going to do any good. You got to go +all by yourself, to the middle of the woods, where you know there's a +spunk-water stump, and just as it's midnight you back up against the +stump and jam your hand in and say: + + 'Barley-corn, barley-corn, injun-meal shorts, + Spunk-water, spunk-water, swaller these warts,' + +and then walk away quick, eleven steps, with your eyes shut, and then +turn around three times and walk home without speaking to anybody. +Because if you speak the charm's busted." + +"Well, that sounds like a good way; but that ain't the way Bob Tanner +done." + +"No, sir, you can bet he didn't, becuz he's the wartiest boy in this +town; and he wouldn't have a wart on him if he'd knowed how to work +spunk-water. I've took off thousands of warts off of my hands that way, +Huck. I play with frogs so much that I've always got considerable many +warts. Sometimes I take 'em off with a bean." + +"Yes, bean's good. I've done that." + +"Have you? What's your way?" + +"You take and split the bean, and cut the wart so as to get some +blood, and then you put the blood on one piece of the bean and take and +dig a hole and bury it 'bout midnight at the crossroads in the dark of +the moon, and then you burn up the rest of the bean. You see that piece +that's got the blood on it will keep drawing and drawing, trying to +fetch the other piece to it, and so that helps the blood to draw the +wart, and pretty soon off she comes." + +"Yes, that's it, Huck--that's it; though when you're burying it if you +say 'Down bean; off wart; come no more to bother me!' it's better. +That's the way Joe Harper does, and he's been nearly to Coonville and +most everywheres. But say--how do you cure 'em with dead cats?" + +"Why, you take your cat and go and get in the graveyard 'long about +midnight when somebody that was wicked has been buried; and when it's +midnight a devil will come, or maybe two or three, but you can't see +'em, you can only hear something like the wind, or maybe hear 'em talk; +and when they're taking that feller away, you heave your cat after 'em +and say, 'Devil follow corpse, cat follow devil, warts follow cat, I'm +done with ye!' That'll fetch ANY wart." + +"Sounds right. D'you ever try it, Huck?" + +"No, but old Mother Hopkins told me." + +"Well, I reckon it's so, then. Becuz they say she's a witch." + +"Say! Why, Tom, I KNOW she is. She witched pap. Pap says so his own +self. He come along one day, and he see she was a-witching him, so he +took up a rock, and if she hadn't dodged, he'd a got her. Well, that +very night he rolled off'n a shed wher' he was a layin drunk, and broke +his arm." + +"Why, that's awful. How did he know she was a-witching him?" + +"Lord, pap can tell, easy. Pap says when they keep looking at you +right stiddy, they're a-witching you. Specially if they mumble. Becuz +when they mumble they're saying the Lord's Prayer backards." + +"Say, Hucky, when you going to try the cat?" + +"To-night. I reckon they'll come after old Hoss Williams to-night." + +"But they buried him Saturday. Didn't they get him Saturday night?" + +"Why, how you talk! How could their charms work till midnight?--and +THEN it's Sunday. Devils don't slosh around much of a Sunday, I don't +reckon." + +"I never thought of that. That's so. Lemme go with you?" + +"Of course--if you ain't afeard." + +"Afeard! 'Tain't likely. Will you meow?" + +"Yes--and you meow back, if you get a chance. Last time, you kep' me +a-meowing around till old Hays went to throwing rocks at me and says +'Dern that cat!' and so I hove a brick through his window--but don't +you tell." + +"I won't. I couldn't meow that night, becuz auntie was watching me, +but I'll meow this time. Say--what's that?" + +"Nothing but a tick." + +"Where'd you get him?" + +"Out in the woods." + +"What'll you take for him?" + +"I don't know. I don't want to sell him." + +"All right. It's a mighty small tick, anyway." + +"Oh, anybody can run a tick down that don't belong to them. I'm +satisfied with it. It's a good enough tick for me." + +"Sho, there's ticks a plenty. I could have a thousand of 'em if I +wanted to." + +"Well, why don't you? Becuz you know mighty well you can't. This is a +pretty early tick, I reckon. It's the first one I've seen this year." + +"Say, Huck--I'll give you my tooth for him." + +"Less see it." + +Tom got out a bit of paper and carefully unrolled it. Huckleberry +viewed it wistfully. The temptation was very strong. At last he said: + +"Is it genuwyne?" + +Tom lifted his lip and showed the vacancy. + +"Well, all right," said Huckleberry, "it's a trade." + +Tom enclosed the tick in the percussion-cap box that had lately been +the pinchbug's prison, and the boys separated, each feeling wealthier +than before. + +When Tom reached the little isolated frame schoolhouse, he strode in +briskly, with the manner of one who had come with all honest speed. +He hung his hat on a peg and flung himself into his seat with +business-like alacrity. The master, throned on high in his great +splint-bottom arm-chair, was dozing, lulled by the drowsy hum of study. +The interruption roused him. + +"Thomas Sawyer!" + +Tom knew that when his name was pronounced in full, it meant trouble. + +"Sir!" + +"Come up here. Now, sir, why are you late again, as usual?" + +Tom was about to take refuge in a lie, when he saw two long tails of +yellow hair hanging down a back that he recognized by the electric +sympathy of love; and by that form was THE ONLY VACANT PLACE on the +girls' side of the schoolhouse. He instantly said: + +"I STOPPED TO TALK WITH HUCKLEBERRY FINN!" + +The master's pulse stood still, and he stared helplessly. The buzz of +study ceased. The pupils wondered if this foolhardy boy had lost his +mind. The master said: + +"You--you did what?" + +"Stopped to talk with Huckleberry Finn." + +There was no mistaking the words. + +"Thomas Sawyer, this is the most astounding confession I have ever +listened to. No mere ferule will answer for this offence. Take off your +jacket." + +The master's arm performed until it was tired and the stock of +switches notably diminished. Then the order followed: + +"Now, sir, go and sit with the girls! And let this be a warning to you." + +The titter that rippled around the room appeared to abash the boy, but +in reality that result was caused rather more by his worshipful awe of +his unknown idol and the dread pleasure that lay in his high good +fortune. He sat down upon the end of the pine bench and the girl +hitched herself away from him with a toss of her head. Nudges and winks +and whispers traversed the room, but Tom sat still, with his arms upon +the long, low desk before him, and seemed to study his book. + +By and by attention ceased from him, and the accustomed school murmur +rose upon the dull air once more. Presently the boy began to steal +furtive glances at the girl. She observed it, "made a mouth" at him and +gave him the back of her head for the space of a minute. When she +cautiously faced around again, a peach lay before her. She thrust it +away. Tom gently put it back. She thrust it away again, but with less +animosity. Tom patiently returned it to its place. Then she let it +remain. Tom scrawled on his slate, "Please take it--I got more." The +girl glanced at the words, but made no sign. Now the boy began to draw +something on the slate, hiding his work with his left hand. For a time +the girl refused to notice; but her human curiosity presently began to +manifest itself by hardly perceptible signs. The boy worked on, +apparently unconscious. The girl made a sort of noncommittal attempt to +see, but the boy did not betray that he was aware of it. At last she +gave in and hesitatingly whispered: + +"Let me see it." + +Tom partly uncovered a dismal caricature of a house with two gable +ends to it and a corkscrew of smoke issuing from the chimney. Then the +girl's interest began to fasten itself upon the work and she forgot +everything else. When it was finished, she gazed a moment, then +whispered: + +"It's nice--make a man." + +The artist erected a man in the front yard, that resembled a derrick. +He could have stepped over the house; but the girl was not +hypercritical; she was satisfied with the monster, and whispered: + +"It's a beautiful man--now make me coming along." + +Tom drew an hour-glass with a full moon and straw limbs to it and +armed the spreading fingers with a portentous fan. The girl said: + +"It's ever so nice--I wish I could draw." + +"It's easy," whispered Tom, "I'll learn you." + +"Oh, will you? When?" + +"At noon. Do you go home to dinner?" + +"I'll stay if you will." + +"Good--that's a whack. What's your name?" + +"Becky Thatcher. What's yours? Oh, I know. It's Thomas Sawyer." + +"That's the name they lick me by. I'm Tom when I'm good. You call me +Tom, will you?" + +"Yes." + +Now Tom began to scrawl something on the slate, hiding the words from +the girl. But she was not backward this time. She begged to see. Tom +said: + +"Oh, it ain't anything." + +"Yes it is." + +"No it ain't. You don't want to see." + +"Yes I do, indeed I do. Please let me." + +"You'll tell." + +"No I won't--deed and deed and double deed won't." + +"You won't tell anybody at all? Ever, as long as you live?" + +"No, I won't ever tell ANYbody. Now let me." + +"Oh, YOU don't want to see!" + +"Now that you treat me so, I WILL see." And she put her small hand +upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in +earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were +revealed: "I LOVE YOU." + +"Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened +and looked pleased, nevertheless. + +Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his +ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that wise he was borne across the +house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles +from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few +awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a +word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant. + +As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the +turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the +reading class and made a botch of it; then in the geography class and +turned lakes into mountains, mountains into rivers, and rivers into +continents, till chaos was come again; then in the spelling class, and +got "turned down," by a succession of mere baby words, till he brought +up at the foot and yielded up the pewter medal which he had worn with +ostentation for months. + +CHAPTER VII + +THE harder Tom tried to fasten his mind on his book, the more his +ideas wandered. So at last, with a sigh and a yawn, he gave it up. It +seemed to him that the noon recess would never come. The air was +utterly dead. There was not a breath stirring. It was the sleepiest of +sleepy days. The drowsing murmur of the five and twenty studying +scholars soothed the soul like the spell that is in the murmur of bees. +Away off in the flaming sunshine, Cardiff Hill lifted its soft green +sides through a shimmering veil of heat, tinted with the purple of +distance; a few birds floated on lazy wing high in the air; no other +living thing was visible but some cows, and they were asleep. Tom's +heart ached to be free, or else to have something of interest to do to +pass the dreary time. His hand wandered into his pocket and his face +lit up with a glow of gratitude that was prayer, though he did not know +it. Then furtively the percussion-cap box came out. He released the +tick and put him on the long flat desk. The creature probably glowed +with a gratitude that amounted to prayer, too, at this moment, but it +was premature: for when he started thankfully to travel off, Tom turned +him aside with a pin and made him take a new direction. + +Tom's bosom friend sat next him, suffering just as Tom had been, and +now he was deeply and gratefully interested in this entertainment in an +instant. This bosom friend was Joe Harper. The two boys were sworn +friends all the week, and embattled enemies on Saturdays. Joe took a +pin out of his lapel and began to assist in exercising the prisoner. +The sport grew in interest momently. Soon Tom said that they were +interfering with each other, and neither getting the fullest benefit of +the tick. So he put Joe's slate on the desk and drew a line down the +middle of it from top to bottom. + +"Now," said he, "as long as he is on your side you can stir him up and +I'll let him alone; but if you let him get away and get on my side, +you're to leave him alone as long as I can keep him from crossing over." + +"All right, go ahead; start him up." + +The tick escaped from Tom, presently, and crossed the equator. Joe +harassed him awhile, and then he got away and crossed back again. This +change of base occurred often. While one boy was worrying the tick with +absorbing interest, the other would look on with interest as strong, +the two heads bowed together over the slate, and the two souls dead to +all things else. At last luck seemed to settle and abide with Joe. The +tick tried this, that, and the other course, and got as excited and as +anxious as the boys themselves, but time and again just as he would +have victory in his very grasp, so to speak, and Tom's fingers would be +twitching to begin, Joe's pin would deftly head him off, and keep +possession. At last Tom could stand it no longer. The temptation was +too strong. So he reached out and lent a hand with his pin. Joe was +angry in a moment. Said he: + +"Tom, you let him alone." + +"I only just want to stir him up a little, Joe." + +"No, sir, it ain't fair; you just let him alone." + +"Blame it, I ain't going to stir him much." + +"Let him alone, I tell you." + +"I won't!" + +"You shall--he's on my side of the line." + +"Look here, Joe Harper, whose is that tick?" + +"I don't care whose tick he is--he's on my side of the line, and you +sha'n't touch him." + +"Well, I'll just bet I will, though. He's my tick and I'll do what I +blame please with him, or die!" + +A tremendous whack came down on Tom's shoulders, and its duplicate on +Joe's; and for the space of two minutes the dust continued to fly from +the two jackets and the whole school to enjoy it. The boys had been too +absorbed to notice the hush that had stolen upon the school awhile +before when the master came tiptoeing down the room and stood over +them. He had contemplated a good part of the performance before he +contributed his bit of variety to it. + +When school broke up at noon, Tom flew to Becky Thatcher, and +whispered in her ear: + +"Put on your bonnet and let on you're going home; and when you get to +the corner, give the rest of 'em the slip, and turn down through the +lane and come back. I'll go the other way and come it over 'em the same +way." + +So the one went off with one group of scholars, and the other with +another. In a little while the two met at the bottom of the lane, and +when they reached the school they had it all to themselves. Then they +sat together, with a slate before them, and Tom gave Becky the pencil +and held her hand in his, guiding it, and so created another surprising +house. When the interest in art began to wane, the two fell to talking. +Tom was swimming in bliss. He said: + +"Do you love rats?" + +"No! I hate them!" + +"Well, I do, too--LIVE ones. But I mean dead ones, to swing round your +head with a string." + +"No, I don't care for rats much, anyway. What I like is chewing-gum." + +"Oh, I should say so! I wish I had some now." + +"Do you? I've got some. I'll let you chew it awhile, but you must give +it back to me." + +That was agreeable, so they chewed it turn about, and dangled their +legs against the bench in excess of contentment. + +"Was you ever at a circus?" said Tom. + +"Yes, and my pa's going to take me again some time, if I'm good." + +"I been to the circus three or four times--lots of times. Church ain't +shucks to a circus. There's things going on at a circus all the time. +I'm going to be a clown in a circus when I grow up." + +"Oh, are you! That will be nice. They're so lovely, all spotted up." + +"Yes, that's so. And they get slathers of money--most a dollar a day, +Ben Rogers says. Say, Becky, was you ever engaged?" + +"What's that?" + +"Why, engaged to be married." + +"No." + +"Would you like to?" + +"I reckon so. I don't know. What is it like?" + +"Like? Why it ain't like anything. You only just tell a boy you won't +ever have anybody but him, ever ever ever, and then you kiss and that's +all. Anybody can do it." + +"Kiss? What do you kiss for?" + +"Why, that, you know, is to--well, they always do that." + +"Everybody?" + +"Why, yes, everybody that's in love with each other. Do you remember +what I wrote on the slate?" + +"Ye--yes." + +"What was it?" + +"I sha'n't tell you." + +"Shall I tell YOU?" + +"Ye--yes--but some other time." + +"No, now." + +"No, not now--to-morrow." + +"Oh, no, NOW. Please, Becky--I'll whisper it, I'll whisper it ever so +easy." + +Becky hesitating, Tom took silence for consent, and passed his arm +about her waist and whispered the tale ever so softly, with his mouth +close to her ear. And then he added: + +"Now you whisper it to me--just the same." + +She resisted, for a while, and then said: + +"You turn your face away so you can't see, and then I will. But you +mustn't ever tell anybody--WILL you, Tom? Now you won't, WILL you?" + +"No, indeed, indeed I won't. Now, Becky." + +He turned his face away. She bent timidly around till her breath +stirred his curls and whispered, "I--love--you!" + +Then she sprang away and ran around and around the desks and benches, +with Tom after her, and took refuge in a corner at last, with her +little white apron to her face. Tom clasped her about her neck and +pleaded: + +"Now, Becky, it's all done--all over but the kiss. Don't you be afraid +of that--it ain't anything at all. Please, Becky." And he tugged at her +apron and the hands. + +By and by she gave up, and let her hands drop; her face, all glowing +with the struggle, came up and submitted. Tom kissed the red lips and +said: + +"Now it's all done, Becky. And always after this, you know, you ain't +ever to love anybody but me, and you ain't ever to marry anybody but +me, ever never and forever. Will you?" + +"No, I'll never love anybody but you, Tom, and I'll never marry +anybody but you--and you ain't to ever marry anybody but me, either." + +"Certainly. Of course. That's PART of it. And always coming to school +or when we're going home, you're to walk with me, when there ain't +anybody looking--and you choose me and I choose you at parties, because +that's the way you do when you're engaged." + +"It's so nice. I never heard of it before." + +"Oh, it's ever so gay! Why, me and Amy Lawrence--" + +The big eyes told Tom his blunder and he stopped, confused. + +"Oh, Tom! Then I ain't the first you've ever been engaged to!" + +The child began to cry. Tom said: + +"Oh, don't cry, Becky, I don't care for her any more." + +"Yes, you do, Tom--you know you do." + +Tom tried to put his arm about her neck, but she pushed him away and +turned her face to the wall, and went on crying. Tom tried again, with +soothing words in his mouth, and was repulsed again. Then his pride was +up, and he strode away and went outside. He stood about, restless and +uneasy, for a while, glancing at the door, every now and then, hoping +she would repent and come to find him. But she did not. Then he began +to feel badly and fear that he was in the wrong. It was a hard struggle +with him to make new advances, now, but he nerved himself to it and +entered. She was still standing back there in the corner, sobbing, with +her face to the wall. Tom's heart smote him. He went to her and stood a +moment, not knowing exactly how to proceed. Then he said hesitatingly: + +"Becky, I--I don't care for anybody but you." + +No reply--but sobs. + +"Becky"--pleadingly. "Becky, won't you say something?" + +More sobs. + +Tom got out his chiefest jewel, a brass knob from the top of an +andiron, and passed it around her so that she could see it, and said: + +"Please, Becky, won't you take it?" + +She struck it to the floor. Then Tom marched out of the house and over +the hills and far away, to return to school no more that day. Presently +Becky began to suspect. She ran to the door; he was not in sight; she +flew around to the play-yard; he was not there. Then she called: + +"Tom! Come back, Tom!" + +She listened intently, but there was no answer. She had no companions +but silence and loneliness. So she sat down to cry again and upbraid +herself; and by this time the scholars began to gather again, and she +had to hide her griefs and still her broken heart and take up the cross +of a long, dreary, aching afternoon, with none among the strangers +about her to exchange sorrows with. + +CHAPTER VIII + +TOM dodged hither and thither through lanes until he was well out of +the track of returning scholars, and then fell into a moody jog. He +crossed a small "branch" two or three times, because of a prevailing +juvenile superstition that to cross water baffled pursuit. Half an hour +later he was disappearing behind the Douglas mansion on the summit of +Cardiff Hill, and the schoolhouse was hardly distinguishable away off +in the valley behind him. He entered a dense wood, picked his pathless +way to the centre of it, and sat down on a mossy spot under a spreading +oak. There was not even a zephyr stirring; the dead noonday heat had +even stilled the songs of the birds; nature lay in a trance that was +broken by no sound but the occasional far-off hammering of a +woodpecker, and this seemed to render the pervading silence and sense +of loneliness the more profound. The boy's soul was steeped in +melancholy; his feelings were in happy accord with his surroundings. He +sat long with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, +meditating. It seemed to him that life was but a trouble, at best, and +he more than half envied Jimmy Hodges, so lately released; it must be +very peaceful, he thought, to lie and slumber and dream forever and +ever, with the wind whispering through the trees and caressing the +grass and the flowers over the grave, and nothing to bother and grieve +about, ever any more. If he only had a clean Sunday-school record he +could be willing to go, and be done with it all. Now as to this girl. +What had he done? Nothing. He had meant the best in the world, and been +treated like a dog--like a very dog. She would be sorry some day--maybe +when it was too late. Ah, if he could only die TEMPORARILY! + +But the elastic heart of youth cannot be compressed into one +constrained shape long at a time. Tom presently began to drift +insensibly back into the concerns of this life again. What if he turned +his back, now, and disappeared mysteriously? What if he went away--ever +so far away, into unknown countries beyond the seas--and never came +back any more! How would she feel then! The idea of being a clown +recurred to him now, only to fill him with disgust. For frivolity and +jokes and spotted tights were an offense, when they intruded themselves +upon a spirit that was exalted into the vague august realm of the +romantic. No, he would be a soldier, and return after long years, all +war-worn and illustrious. No--better still, he would join the Indians, +and hunt buffaloes and go on the warpath in the mountain ranges and the +trackless great plains of the Far West, and away in the future come +back a great chief, bristling with feathers, hideous with paint, and +prance into Sunday-school, some drowsy summer morning, with a +bloodcurdling war-whoop, and sear the eyeballs of all his companions +with unappeasable envy. But no, there was something gaudier even than +this. He would be a pirate! That was it! NOW his future lay plain +before him, and glowing with unimaginable splendor. How his name would +fill the world, and make people shudder! How gloriously he would go +plowing the dancing seas, in his long, low, black-hulled racer, the +Spirit of the Storm, with his grisly flag flying at the fore! And at +the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village +and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet +doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt +bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his +slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull +and crossbones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, +"It's Tom Sawyer the Pirate!--the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main!" + +Yes, it was settled; his career was determined. He would run away from +home and enter upon it. He would start the very next morning. Therefore +he must now begin to get ready. He would collect his resources +together. He went to a rotten log near at hand and began to dig under +one end of it with his Barlow knife. He soon struck wood that sounded +hollow. He put his hand there and uttered this incantation impressively: + +"What hasn't come here, come! What's here, stay here!" + +Then he scraped away the dirt, and exposed a pine shingle. He took it +up and disclosed a shapely little treasure-house whose bottom and sides +were of shingles. In it lay a marble. Tom's astonishment was boundless! +He scratched his head with a perplexed air, and said: + +"Well, that beats anything!" + +Then he tossed the marble away pettishly, and stood cogitating. The +truth was, that a superstition of his had failed, here, which he and +all his comrades had always looked upon as infallible. If you buried a +marble with certain necessary incantations, and left it alone a +fortnight, and then opened the place with the incantation he had just +used, you would find that all the marbles you had ever lost had +gathered themselves together there, meantime, no matter how widely they +had been separated. But now, this thing had actually and unquestionably +failed. Tom's whole structure of faith was shaken to its foundations. +He had many a time heard of this thing succeeding but never of its +failing before. It did not occur to him that he had tried it several +times before, himself, but could never find the hiding-places +afterward. He puzzled over the matter some time, and finally decided +that some witch had interfered and broken the charm. He thought he +would satisfy himself on that point; so he searched around till he +found a small sandy spot with a little funnel-shaped depression in it. +He laid himself down and put his mouth close to this depression and +called-- + +"Doodle-bug, doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know! Doodle-bug, +doodle-bug, tell me what I want to know!" + +The sand began to work, and presently a small black bug appeared for a +second and then darted under again in a fright. + +"He dasn't tell! So it WAS a witch that done it. I just knowed it." + +He well knew the futility of trying to contend against witches, so he +gave up discouraged. But it occurred to him that he might as well have +the marble he had just thrown away, and therefore he went and made a +patient search for it. But he could not find it. Now he went back to +his treasure-house and carefully placed himself just as he had been +standing when he tossed the marble away; then he took another marble +from his pocket and tossed it in the same way, saying: + +"Brother, go find your brother!" + +He watched where it stopped, and went there and looked. But it must +have fallen short or gone too far; so he tried twice more. The last +repetition was successful. The two marbles lay within a foot of each +other. + +Just here the blast of a toy tin trumpet came faintly down the green +aisles of the forest. Tom flung off his jacket and trousers, turned a +suspender into a belt, raked away some brush behind the rotten log, +disclosing a rude bow and arrow, a lath sword and a tin trumpet, and in +a moment had seized these things and bounded away, barelegged, with +fluttering shirt. He presently halted under a great elm, blew an +answering blast, and then began to tiptoe and look warily out, this way +and that. He said cautiously--to an imaginary company: + +"Hold, my merry men! Keep hid till I blow." + +Now appeared Joe Harper, as airily clad and elaborately armed as Tom. +Tom called: + +"Hold! Who comes here into Sherwood Forest without my pass?" + +"Guy of Guisborne wants no man's pass. Who art thou that--that--" + +"Dares to hold such language," said Tom, prompting--for they talked +"by the book," from memory. + +"Who art thou that dares to hold such language?" + +"I, indeed! I am Robin Hood, as thy caitiff carcase soon shall know." + +"Then art thou indeed that famous outlaw? Right gladly will I dispute +with thee the passes of the merry wood. Have at thee!" + +They took their lath swords, dumped their other traps on the ground, +struck a fencing attitude, foot to foot, and began a grave, careful +combat, "two up and two down." Presently Tom said: + +"Now, if you've got the hang, go it lively!" + +So they "went it lively," panting and perspiring with the work. By and +by Tom shouted: + +"Fall! fall! Why don't you fall?" + +"I sha'n't! Why don't you fall yourself? You're getting the worst of +it." + +"Why, that ain't anything. I can't fall; that ain't the way it is in +the book. The book says, 'Then with one back-handed stroke he slew poor +Guy of Guisborne.' You're to turn around and let me hit you in the +back." + +There was no getting around the authorities, so Joe turned, received +the whack and fell. + +"Now," said Joe, getting up, "you got to let me kill YOU. That's fair." + +"Why, I can't do that, it ain't in the book." + +"Well, it's blamed mean--that's all." + +"Well, say, Joe, you can be Friar Tuck or Much the miller's son, and +lam me with a quarter-staff; or I'll be the Sheriff of Nottingham and +you be Robin Hood a little while and kill me." + +This was satisfactory, and so these adventures were carried out. Then +Tom became Robin Hood again, and was allowed by the treacherous nun to +bleed his strength away through his neglected wound. And at last Joe, +representing a whole tribe of weeping outlaws, dragged him sadly forth, +gave his bow into his feeble hands, and Tom said, "Where this arrow +falls, there bury poor Robin Hood under the greenwood tree." Then he +shot the arrow and fell back and would have died, but he lit on a +nettle and sprang up too gaily for a corpse. + +The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off +grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern +civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. +They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than +President of the United States forever. + +CHAPTER IX + +AT half-past nine, that night, Tom and Sid were sent to bed, as usual. +They said their prayers, and Sid was soon asleep. Tom lay awake and +waited, in restless impatience. When it seemed to him that it must be +nearly daylight, he heard the clock strike ten! This was despair. He +would have tossed and fidgeted, as his nerves demanded, but he was +afraid he might wake Sid. So he lay still, and stared up into the dark. +Everything was dismally still. By and by, out of the stillness, little, +scarcely perceptible noises began to emphasize themselves. The ticking +of the clock began to bring itself into notice. Old beams began to +crack mysteriously. The stairs creaked faintly. Evidently spirits were +abroad. A measured, muffled snore issued from Aunt Polly's chamber. And +now the tiresome chirping of a cricket that no human ingenuity could +locate, began. Next the ghastly ticking of a deathwatch in the wall at +the bed's head made Tom shudder--it meant that somebody's days were +numbered. Then the howl of a far-off dog rose on the night air, and was +answered by a fainter howl from a remoter distance. Tom was in an +agony. At last he was satisfied that time had ceased and eternity +begun; he began to doze, in spite of himself; the clock chimed eleven, +but he did not hear it. And then there came, mingling with his +half-formed dreams, a most melancholy caterwauling. The raising of a +neighboring window disturbed him. A cry of "Scat! you devil!" and the +crash of an empty bottle against the back of his aunt's woodshed +brought him wide awake, and a single minute later he was dressed and +out of the window and creeping along the roof of the "ell" on all +fours. He "meow'd" with caution once or twice, as he went; then jumped +to the roof of the woodshed and thence to the ground. Huckleberry Finn +was there, with his dead cat. The boys moved off and disappeared in the +gloom. At the end of half an hour they were wading through the tall +grass of the graveyard. + +It was a graveyard of the old-fashioned Western kind. It was on a +hill, about a mile and a half from the village. It had a crazy board +fence around it, which leaned inward in places, and outward the rest of +the time, but stood upright nowhere. Grass and weeds grew rank over the +whole cemetery. All the old graves were sunken in, there was not a +tombstone on the place; round-topped, worm-eaten boards staggered over +the graves, leaning for support and finding none. "Sacred to the memory +of" So-and-So had been painted on them once, but it could no longer +have been read, on the most of them, now, even if there had been light. + +A faint wind moaned through the trees, and Tom feared it might be the +spirits of the dead, complaining at being disturbed. The boys talked +little, and only under their breath, for the time and the place and the +pervading solemnity and silence oppressed their spirits. They found the +sharp new heap they were seeking, and ensconced themselves within the +protection of three great elms that grew in a bunch within a few feet +of the grave. + +Then they waited in silence for what seemed a long time. The hooting +of a distant owl was all the sound that troubled the dead stillness. +Tom's reflections grew oppressive. He must force some talk. So he said +in a whisper: + +"Hucky, do you believe the dead people like it for us to be here?" + +Huckleberry whispered: + +"I wisht I knowed. It's awful solemn like, AIN'T it?" + +"I bet it is." + +There was a considerable pause, while the boys canvassed this matter +inwardly. Then Tom whispered: + +"Say, Hucky--do you reckon Hoss Williams hears us talking?" + +"O' course he does. Least his sperrit does." + +Tom, after a pause: + +"I wish I'd said Mister Williams. But I never meant any harm. +Everybody calls him Hoss." + +"A body can't be too partic'lar how they talk 'bout these-yer dead +people, Tom." + +This was a damper, and conversation died again. + +Presently Tom seized his comrade's arm and said: + +"Sh!" + +"What is it, Tom?" And the two clung together with beating hearts. + +"Sh! There 'tis again! Didn't you hear it?" + +"I--" + +"There! Now you hear it." + +"Lord, Tom, they're coming! They're coming, sure. What'll we do?" + +"I dono. Think they'll see us?" + +"Oh, Tom, they can see in the dark, same as cats. I wisht I hadn't +come." + +"Oh, don't be afeard. I don't believe they'll bother us. We ain't +doing any harm. If we keep perfectly still, maybe they won't notice us +at all." + +"I'll try to, Tom, but, Lord, I'm all of a shiver." + +"Listen!" + +The boys bent their heads together and scarcely breathed. A muffled +sound of voices floated up from the far end of the graveyard. + +"Look! See there!" whispered Tom. "What is it?" + +"It's devil-fire. Oh, Tom, this is awful." + +Some vague figures approached through the gloom, swinging an +old-fashioned tin lantern that freckled the ground with innumerable +little spangles of light. Presently Huckleberry whispered with a +shudder: + +"It's the devils sure enough. Three of 'em! Lordy, Tom, we're goners! +Can you pray?" + +"I'll try, but don't you be afeard. They ain't going to hurt us. 'Now +I lay me down to sleep, I--'" + +"Sh!" + +"What is it, Huck?" + +"They're HUMANS! One of 'em is, anyway. One of 'em's old Muff Potter's +voice." + +"No--'tain't so, is it?" + +"I bet I know it. Don't you stir nor budge. He ain't sharp enough to +notice us. Drunk, the same as usual, likely--blamed old rip!" + +"All right, I'll keep still. Now they're stuck. Can't find it. Here +they come again. Now they're hot. Cold again. Hot again. Red hot! +They're p'inted right, this time. Say, Huck, I know another o' them +voices; it's Injun Joe." + +"That's so--that murderin' half-breed! I'd druther they was devils a +dern sight. What kin they be up to?" + +The whisper died wholly out, now, for the three men had reached the +grave and stood within a few feet of the boys' hiding-place. + +"Here it is," said the third voice; and the owner of it held the +lantern up and revealed the face of young Doctor Robinson. + +Potter and Injun Joe were carrying a handbarrow with a rope and a +couple of shovels on it. They cast down their load and began to open +the grave. The doctor put the lantern at the head of the grave and came +and sat down with his back against one of the elm trees. He was so +close the boys could have touched him. + +"Hurry, men!" he said, in a low voice; "the moon might come out at any +moment." + +They growled a response and went on digging. For some time there was +no noise but the grating sound of the spades discharging their freight +of mould and gravel. It was very monotonous. Finally a spade struck +upon the coffin with a dull woody accent, and within another minute or +two the men had hoisted it out on the ground. They pried off the lid +with their shovels, got out the body and dumped it rudely on the +ground. The moon drifted from behind the clouds and exposed the pallid +face. The barrow was got ready and the corpse placed on it, covered +with a blanket, and bound to its place with the rope. Potter took out a +large spring-knife and cut off the dangling end of the rope and then +said: + +"Now the cussed thing's ready, Sawbones, and you'll just out with +another five, or here she stays." + +"That's the talk!" said Injun Joe. + +"Look here, what does this mean?" said the doctor. "You required your +pay in advance, and I've paid you." + +"Yes, and you done more than that," said Injun Joe, approaching the +doctor, who was now standing. "Five years ago you drove me away from +your father's kitchen one night, when I come to ask for something to +eat, and you said I warn't there for any good; and when I swore I'd get +even with you if it took a hundred years, your father had me jailed for +a vagrant. Did you think I'd forget? The Injun blood ain't in me for +nothing. And now I've GOT you, and you got to SETTLE, you know!" + +He was threatening the doctor, with his fist in his face, by this +time. The doctor struck out suddenly and stretched the ruffian on the +ground. Potter dropped his knife, and exclaimed: + +"Here, now, don't you hit my pard!" and the next moment he had +grappled with the doctor and the two were struggling with might and +main, trampling the grass and tearing the ground with their heels. +Injun Joe sprang to his feet, his eyes flaming with passion, snatched +up Potter's knife, and went creeping, catlike and stooping, round and +round about the combatants, seeking an opportunity. All at once the +doctor flung himself free, seized the heavy headboard of Williams' +grave and felled Potter to the earth with it--and in the same instant +the half-breed saw his chance and drove the knife to the hilt in the +young man's breast. He reeled and fell partly upon Potter, flooding him +with his blood, and in the same moment the clouds blotted out the +dreadful spectacle and the two frightened boys went speeding away in +the dark. + +Presently, when the moon emerged again, Injun Joe was standing over +the two forms, contemplating them. The doctor murmured inarticulately, +gave a long gasp or two and was still. The half-breed muttered: + +"THAT score is settled--damn you." + +Then he robbed the body. After which he put the fatal knife in +Potter's open right hand, and sat down on the dismantled coffin. Three +--four--five minutes passed, and then Potter began to stir and moan. His +hand closed upon the knife; he raised it, glanced at it, and let it +fall, with a shudder. Then he sat up, pushing the body from him, and +gazed at it, and then around him, confusedly. His eyes met Joe's. + +"Lord, how is this, Joe?" he said. + +"It's a dirty business," said Joe, without moving. + +"What did you do it for?" + +"I! I never done it!" + +"Look here! That kind of talk won't wash." + +Potter trembled and grew white. + +"I thought I'd got sober. I'd no business to drink to-night. But it's +in my head yet--worse'n when we started here. I'm all in a muddle; +can't recollect anything of it, hardly. Tell me, Joe--HONEST, now, old +feller--did I do it? Joe, I never meant to--'pon my soul and honor, I +never meant to, Joe. Tell me how it was, Joe. Oh, it's awful--and him +so young and promising." + +"Why, you two was scuffling, and he fetched you one with the headboard +and you fell flat; and then up you come, all reeling and staggering +like, and snatched the knife and jammed it into him, just as he fetched +you another awful clip--and here you've laid, as dead as a wedge til +now." + +"Oh, I didn't know what I was a-doing. I wish I may die this minute if +I did. It was all on account of the whiskey and the excitement, I +reckon. I never used a weepon in my life before, Joe. I've fought, but +never with weepons. They'll all say that. Joe, don't tell! Say you +won't tell, Joe--that's a good feller. I always liked you, Joe, and +stood up for you, too. Don't you remember? You WON'T tell, WILL you, +Joe?" And the poor creature dropped on his knees before the stolid +murderer, and clasped his appealing hands. + +"No, you've always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter, and I +won't go back on you. There, now, that's as fair as a man can say." + +"Oh, Joe, you're an angel. I'll bless you for this the longest day I +live." And Potter began to cry. + +"Come, now, that's enough of that. This ain't any time for blubbering. +You be off yonder way and I'll go this. Move, now, and don't leave any +tracks behind you." + +Potter started on a trot that quickly increased to a run. The +half-breed stood looking after him. He muttered: + +"If he's as much stunned with the lick and fuddled with the rum as he +had the look of being, he won't think of the knife till he's gone so +far he'll be afraid to come back after it to such a place by himself +--chicken-heart!" + +Two or three minutes later the murdered man, the blanketed corpse, the +lidless coffin, and the open grave were under no inspection but the +moon's. The stillness was complete again, too. + +CHAPTER X + +THE two boys flew on and on, toward the village, speechless with +horror. They glanced backward over their shoulders from time to time, +apprehensively, as if they feared they might be followed. Every stump +that started up in their path seemed a man and an enemy, and made them +catch their breath; and as they sped by some outlying cottages that lay +near the village, the barking of the aroused watch-dogs seemed to give +wings to their feet. + +"If we can only get to the old tannery before we break down!" +whispered Tom, in short catches between breaths. "I can't stand it much +longer." + +Huckleberry's hard pantings were his only reply, and the boys fixed +their eyes on the goal of their hopes and bent to their work to win it. +They gained steadily on it, and at last, breast to breast, they burst +through the open door and fell grateful and exhausted in the sheltering +shadows beyond. By and by their pulses slowed down, and Tom whispered: + +"Huckleberry, what do you reckon'll come of this?" + +"If Doctor Robinson dies, I reckon hanging'll come of it." + +"Do you though?" + +"Why, I KNOW it, Tom." + +Tom thought a while, then he said: + +"Who'll tell? We?" + +"What are you talking about? S'pose something happened and Injun Joe +DIDN'T hang? Why, he'd kill us some time or other, just as dead sure as +we're a laying here." + +"That's just what I was thinking to myself, Huck." + +"If anybody tells, let Muff Potter do it, if he's fool enough. He's +generally drunk enough." + +Tom said nothing--went on thinking. Presently he whispered: + +"Huck, Muff Potter don't know it. How can he tell?" + +"What's the reason he don't know it?" + +"Because he'd just got that whack when Injun Joe done it. D'you reckon +he could see anything? D'you reckon he knowed anything?" + +"By hokey, that's so, Tom!" + +"And besides, look-a-here--maybe that whack done for HIM!" + +"No, 'taint likely, Tom. He had liquor in him; I could see that; and +besides, he always has. Well, when pap's full, you might take and belt +him over the head with a church and you couldn't phase him. He says so, +his own self. So it's the same with Muff Potter, of course. But if a +man was dead sober, I reckon maybe that whack might fetch him; I dono." + +After another reflective silence, Tom said: + +"Hucky, you sure you can keep mum?" + +"Tom, we GOT to keep mum. You know that. That Injun devil wouldn't +make any more of drownding us than a couple of cats, if we was to +squeak 'bout this and they didn't hang him. Now, look-a-here, Tom, less +take and swear to one another--that's what we got to do--swear to keep +mum." + +"I'm agreed. It's the best thing. Would you just hold hands and swear +that we--" + +"Oh no, that wouldn't do for this. That's good enough for little +rubbishy common things--specially with gals, cuz THEY go back on you +anyway, and blab if they get in a huff--but there orter be writing +'bout a big thing like this. And blood." + +Tom's whole being applauded this idea. It was deep, and dark, and +awful; the hour, the circumstances, the surroundings, were in keeping +with it. He picked up a clean pine shingle that lay in the moonlight, +took a little fragment of "red keel" out of his pocket, got the moon on +his work, and painfully scrawled these lines, emphasizing each slow +down-stroke by clamping his tongue between his teeth, and letting up +the pressure on the up-strokes. [See next page.] + + "Huck Finn and + Tom Sawyer swears + they will keep mum + about This and They + wish They may Drop + down dead in Their + Tracks if They ever + Tell and Rot." + +Huckleberry was filled with admiration of Tom's facility in writing, +and the sublimity of his language. He at once took a pin from his lapel +and was going to prick his flesh, but Tom said: + +"Hold on! Don't do that. A pin's brass. It might have verdigrease on +it." + +"What's verdigrease?" + +"It's p'ison. That's what it is. You just swaller some of it once +--you'll see." + +So Tom unwound the thread from one of his needles, and each boy +pricked the ball of his thumb and squeezed out a drop of blood. In +time, after many squeezes, Tom managed to sign his initials, using the +ball of his little finger for a pen. Then he showed Huckleberry how to +make an H and an F, and the oath was complete. They buried the shingle +close to the wall, with some dismal ceremonies and incantations, and +the fetters that bound their tongues were considered to be locked and +the key thrown away. + +A figure crept stealthily through a break in the other end of the +ruined building, now, but they did not notice it. + +"Tom," whispered Huckleberry, "does this keep us from EVER telling +--ALWAYS?" + +"Of course it does. It don't make any difference WHAT happens, we got +to keep mum. We'd drop down dead--don't YOU know that?" + +"Yes, I reckon that's so." + +They continued to whisper for some little time. Presently a dog set up +a long, lugubrious howl just outside--within ten feet of them. The boys +clasped each other suddenly, in an agony of fright. + +"Which of us does he mean?" gasped Huckleberry. + +"I dono--peep through the crack. Quick!" + +"No, YOU, Tom!" + +"I can't--I can't DO it, Huck!" + +"Please, Tom. There 'tis again!" + +"Oh, lordy, I'm thankful!" whispered Tom. "I know his voice. It's Bull +Harbison." * + +[* If Mr. Harbison owned a slave named Bull, Tom would have spoken of +him as "Harbison's Bull," but a son or a dog of that name was "Bull +Harbison."] + +"Oh, that's good--I tell you, Tom, I was most scared to death; I'd a +bet anything it was a STRAY dog." + +The dog howled again. The boys' hearts sank once more. + +"Oh, my! that ain't no Bull Harbison!" whispered Huckleberry. "DO, Tom!" + +Tom, quaking with fear, yielded, and put his eye to the crack. His +whisper was hardly audible when he said: + +"Oh, Huck, IT S A STRAY DOG!" + +"Quick, Tom, quick! Who does he mean?" + +"Huck, he must mean us both--we're right together." + +"Oh, Tom, I reckon we're goners. I reckon there ain't no mistake 'bout +where I'LL go to. I been so wicked." + +"Dad fetch it! This comes of playing hookey and doing everything a +feller's told NOT to do. I might a been good, like Sid, if I'd a tried +--but no, I wouldn't, of course. But if ever I get off this time, I lay +I'll just WALLER in Sunday-schools!" And Tom began to snuffle a little. + +"YOU bad!" and Huckleberry began to snuffle too. "Consound it, Tom +Sawyer, you're just old pie, 'longside o' what I am. Oh, LORDY, lordy, +lordy, I wisht I only had half your chance." + +Tom choked off and whispered: + +"Look, Hucky, look! He's got his BACK to us!" + +Hucky looked, with joy in his heart. + +"Well, he has, by jingoes! Did he before?" + +"Yes, he did. But I, like a fool, never thought. Oh, this is bully, +you know. NOW who can he mean?" + +The howling stopped. Tom pricked up his ears. + +"Sh! What's that?" he whispered. + +"Sounds like--like hogs grunting. No--it's somebody snoring, Tom." + +"That IS it! Where 'bouts is it, Huck?" + +"I bleeve it's down at 'tother end. Sounds so, anyway. Pap used to +sleep there, sometimes, 'long with the hogs, but laws bless you, he +just lifts things when HE snores. Besides, I reckon he ain't ever +coming back to this town any more." + +The spirit of adventure rose in the boys' souls once more. + +"Hucky, do you das't to go if I lead?" + +"I don't like to, much. Tom, s'pose it's Injun Joe!" + +Tom quailed. But presently the temptation rose up strong again and the +boys agreed to try, with the understanding that they would take to +their heels if the snoring stopped. So they went tiptoeing stealthily +down, the one behind the other. When they had got to within five steps +of the snorer, Tom stepped on a stick, and it broke with a sharp snap. +The man moaned, writhed a little, and his face came into the moonlight. +It was Muff Potter. The boys' hearts had stood still, and their hopes +too, when the man moved, but their fears passed away now. They tiptoed +out, through the broken weather-boarding, and stopped at a little +distance to exchange a parting word. That long, lugubrious howl rose on +the night air again! They turned and saw the strange dog standing +within a few feet of where Potter was lying, and FACING Potter, with +his nose pointing heavenward. + +"Oh, geeminy, it's HIM!" exclaimed both boys, in a breath. + +"Say, Tom--they say a stray dog come howling around Johnny Miller's +house, 'bout midnight, as much as two weeks ago; and a whippoorwill +come in and lit on the banisters and sung, the very same evening; and +there ain't anybody dead there yet." + +"Well, I know that. And suppose there ain't. Didn't Gracie Miller fall +in the kitchen fire and burn herself terrible the very next Saturday?" + +"Yes, but she ain't DEAD. And what's more, she's getting better, too." + +"All right, you wait and see. She's a goner, just as dead sure as Muff +Potter's a goner. That's what the niggers say, and they know all about +these kind of things, Huck." + +Then they separated, cogitating. When Tom crept in at his bedroom +window the night was almost spent. He undressed with excessive caution, +and fell asleep congratulating himself that nobody knew of his +escapade. He was not aware that the gently-snoring Sid was awake, and +had been so for an hour. + +When Tom awoke, Sid was dressed and gone. There was a late look in the +light, a late sense in the atmosphere. He was startled. Why had he not +been called--persecuted till he was up, as usual? The thought filled +him with bodings. Within five minutes he was dressed and down-stairs, +feeling sore and drowsy. The family were still at table, but they had +finished breakfast. There was no voice of rebuke; but there were +averted eyes; there was a silence and an air of solemnity that struck a +chill to the culprit's heart. He sat down and tried to seem gay, but it +was up-hill work; it roused no smile, no response, and he lapsed into +silence and let his heart sink down to the depths. + +After breakfast his aunt took him aside, and Tom almost brightened in +the hope that he was going to be flogged; but it was not so. His aunt +wept over him and asked him how he could go and break her old heart so; +and finally told him to go on, and ruin himself and bring her gray +hairs with sorrow to the grave, for it was no use for her to try any +more. This was worse than a thousand whippings, and Tom's heart was +sorer now than his body. He cried, he pleaded for forgiveness, promised +to reform over and over again, and then received his dismissal, feeling +that he had won but an imperfect forgiveness and established but a +feeble confidence. + +He left the presence too miserable to even feel revengeful toward Sid; +and so the latter's prompt retreat through the back gate was +unnecessary. He moped to school gloomy and sad, and took his flogging, +along with Joe Harper, for playing hookey the day before, with the air +of one whose heart was busy with heavier woes and wholly dead to +trifles. Then he betook himself to his seat, rested his elbows on his +desk and his jaws in his hands, and stared at the wall with the stony +stare of suffering that has reached the limit and can no further go. +His elbow was pressing against some hard substance. After a long time +he slowly and sadly changed his position, and took up this object with +a sigh. It was in a paper. He unrolled it. A long, lingering, colossal +sigh followed, and his heart broke. It was his brass andiron knob! + +This final feather broke the camel's back. + +CHAPTER XI + +CLOSE upon the hour of noon the whole village was suddenly electrified +with the ghastly news. No need of the as yet undreamed-of telegraph; +the tale flew from man to man, from group to group, from house to +house, with little less than telegraphic speed. Of course the +schoolmaster gave holiday for that afternoon; the town would have +thought strangely of him if he had not. + +A gory knife had been found close to the murdered man, and it had been +recognized by somebody as belonging to Muff Potter--so the story ran. +And it was said that a belated citizen had come upon Potter washing +himself in the "branch" about one or two o'clock in the morning, and +that Potter had at once sneaked off--suspicious circumstances, +especially the washing which was not a habit with Potter. It was also +said that the town had been ransacked for this "murderer" (the public +are not slow in the matter of sifting evidence and arriving at a +verdict), but that he could not be found. Horsemen had departed down +all the roads in every direction, and the Sheriff "was confident" that +he would be captured before night. + +All the town was drifting toward the graveyard. Tom's heartbreak +vanished and he joined the procession, not because he would not a +thousand times rather go anywhere else, but because an awful, +unaccountable fascination drew him on. Arrived at the dreadful place, +he wormed his small body through the crowd and saw the dismal +spectacle. It seemed to him an age since he was there before. Somebody +pinched his arm. He turned, and his eyes met Huckleberry's. Then both +looked elsewhere at once, and wondered if anybody had noticed anything +in their mutual glance. But everybody was talking, and intent upon the +grisly spectacle before them. + +"Poor fellow!" "Poor young fellow!" "This ought to be a lesson to +grave robbers!" "Muff Potter'll hang for this if they catch him!" This +was the drift of remark; and the minister said, "It was a judgment; His +hand is here." + +Now Tom shivered from head to heel; for his eye fell upon the stolid +face of Injun Joe. At this moment the crowd began to sway and struggle, +and voices shouted, "It's him! it's him! he's coming himself!" + +"Who? Who?" from twenty voices. + +"Muff Potter!" + +"Hallo, he's stopped!--Look out, he's turning! Don't let him get away!" + +People in the branches of the trees over Tom's head said he wasn't +trying to get away--he only looked doubtful and perplexed. + +"Infernal impudence!" said a bystander; "wanted to come and take a +quiet look at his work, I reckon--didn't expect any company." + +The crowd fell apart, now, and the Sheriff came through, +ostentatiously leading Potter by the arm. The poor fellow's face was +haggard, and his eyes showed the fear that was upon him. When he stood +before the murdered man, he shook as with a palsy, and he put his face +in his hands and burst into tears. + +"I didn't do it, friends," he sobbed; "'pon my word and honor I never +done it." + +"Who's accused you?" shouted a voice. + +This shot seemed to carry home. Potter lifted his face and looked +around him with a pathetic hopelessness in his eyes. He saw Injun Joe, +and exclaimed: + +"Oh, Injun Joe, you promised me you'd never--" + +"Is that your knife?" and it was thrust before him by the Sheriff. + +Potter would have fallen if they had not caught him and eased him to +the ground. Then he said: + +"Something told me 't if I didn't come back and get--" He shuddered; +then waved his nerveless hand with a vanquished gesture and said, "Tell +'em, Joe, tell 'em--it ain't any use any more." + +Then Huckleberry and Tom stood dumb and staring, and heard the +stony-hearted liar reel off his serene statement, they expecting every +moment that the clear sky would deliver God's lightnings upon his head, +and wondering to see how long the stroke was delayed. And when he had +finished and still stood alive and whole, their wavering impulse to +break their oath and save the poor betrayed prisoner's life faded and +vanished away, for plainly this miscreant had sold himself to Satan and +it would be fatal to meddle with the property of such a power as that. + +"Why didn't you leave? What did you want to come here for?" somebody +said. + +"I couldn't help it--I couldn't help it," Potter moaned. "I wanted to +run away, but I couldn't seem to come anywhere but here." And he fell +to sobbing again. + +Injun Joe repeated his statement, just as calmly, a few minutes +afterward on the inquest, under oath; and the boys, seeing that the +lightnings were still withheld, were confirmed in their belief that Joe +had sold himself to the devil. He was now become, to them, the most +balefully interesting object they had ever looked upon, and they could +not take their fascinated eyes from his face. + +They inwardly resolved to watch him nights, when opportunity should +offer, in the hope of getting a glimpse of his dread master. + +Injun Joe helped to raise the body of the murdered man and put it in a +wagon for removal; and it was whispered through the shuddering crowd +that the wound bled a little! The boys thought that this happy +circumstance would turn suspicion in the right direction; but they were +disappointed, for more than one villager remarked: + +"It was within three feet of Muff Potter when it done it." + +Tom's fearful secret and gnawing conscience disturbed his sleep for as +much as a week after this; and at breakfast one morning Sid said: + +"Tom, you pitch around and talk in your sleep so much that you keep me +awake half the time." + +Tom blanched and dropped his eyes. + +"It's a bad sign," said Aunt Polly, gravely. "What you got on your +mind, Tom?" + +"Nothing. Nothing 't I know of." But the boy's hand shook so that he +spilled his coffee. + +"And you do talk such stuff," Sid said. "Last night you said, 'It's +blood, it's blood, that's what it is!' You said that over and over. And +you said, 'Don't torment me so--I'll tell!' Tell WHAT? What is it +you'll tell?" + +Everything was swimming before Tom. There is no telling what might +have happened, now, but luckily the concern passed out of Aunt Polly's +face and she came to Tom's relief without knowing it. She said: + +"Sho! It's that dreadful murder. I dream about it most every night +myself. Sometimes I dream it's me that done it." + +Mary said she had been affected much the same way. Sid seemed +satisfied. Tom got out of the presence as quick as he plausibly could, +and after that he complained of toothache for a week, and tied up his +jaws every night. He never knew that Sid lay nightly watching, and +frequently slipped the bandage free and then leaned on his elbow +listening a good while at a time, and afterward slipped the bandage +back to its place again. Tom's distress of mind wore off gradually and +the toothache grew irksome and was discarded. If Sid really managed to +make anything out of Tom's disjointed mutterings, he kept it to himself. + +It seemed to Tom that his schoolmates never would get done holding +inquests on dead cats, and thus keeping his trouble present to his +mind. Sid noticed that Tom never was coroner at one of these inquiries, +though it had been his habit to take the lead in all new enterprises; +he noticed, too, that Tom never acted as a witness--and that was +strange; and Sid did not overlook the fact that Tom even showed a +marked aversion to these inquests, and always avoided them when he +could. Sid marvelled, but said nothing. However, even inquests went out +of vogue at last, and ceased to torture Tom's conscience. + +Every day or two, during this time of sorrow, Tom watched his +opportunity and went to the little grated jail-window and smuggled such +small comforts through to the "murderer" as he could get hold of. The +jail was a trifling little brick den that stood in a marsh at the edge +of the village, and no guards were afforded for it; indeed, it was +seldom occupied. These offerings greatly helped to ease Tom's +conscience. + +The villagers had a strong desire to tar-and-feather Injun Joe and +ride him on a rail, for body-snatching, but so formidable was his +character that nobody could be found who was willing to take the lead +in the matter, so it was dropped. He had been careful to begin both of +his inquest-statements with the fight, without confessing the +grave-robbery that preceded it; therefore it was deemed wisest not +to try the case in the courts at present. + +CHAPTER XII + +ONE of the reasons why Tom's mind had drifted away from its secret +troubles was, that it had found a new and weighty matter to interest +itself about. Becky Thatcher had stopped coming to school. Tom had +struggled with his pride a few days, and tried to "whistle her down the +wind," but failed. He began to find himself hanging around her father's +house, nights, and feeling very miserable. She was ill. What if she +should die! There was distraction in the thought. He no longer took an +interest in war, nor even in piracy. The charm of life was gone; there +was nothing but dreariness left. He put his hoop away, and his bat; +there was no joy in them any more. His aunt was concerned. She began to +try all manner of remedies on him. She was one of those people who are +infatuated with patent medicines and all new-fangled methods of +producing health or mending it. She was an inveterate experimenter in +these things. When something fresh in this line came out she was in a +fever, right away, to try it; not on herself, for she was never ailing, +but on anybody else that came handy. She was a subscriber for all the +"Health" periodicals and phrenological frauds; and the solemn ignorance +they were inflated with was breath to her nostrils. All the "rot" they +contained about ventilation, and how to go to bed, and how to get up, +and what to eat, and what to drink, and how much exercise to take, and +what frame of mind to keep one's self in, and what sort of clothing to +wear, was all gospel to her, and she never observed that her +health-journals of the current month customarily upset everything they +had recommended the month before. She was as simple-hearted and honest +as the day was long, and so she was an easy victim. She gathered +together her quack periodicals and her quack medicines, and thus armed +with death, went about on her pale horse, metaphorically speaking, with +"hell following after." But she never suspected that she was not an +angel of healing and the balm of Gilead in disguise, to the suffering +neighbors. + +The water treatment was new, now, and Tom's low condition was a +windfall to her. She had him out at daylight every morning, stood him +up in the woodshed and drowned him with a deluge of cold water; then +she scrubbed him down with a towel like a file, and so brought him to; +then she rolled him up in a wet sheet and put him away under blankets +till she sweated his soul clean and "the yellow stains of it came +through his pores"--as Tom said. + +Yet notwithstanding all this, the boy grew more and more melancholy +and pale and dejected. She added hot baths, sitz baths, shower baths, +and plunges. The boy remained as dismal as a hearse. She began to +assist the water with a slim oatmeal diet and blister-plasters. She +calculated his capacity as she would a jug's, and filled him up every +day with quack cure-alls. + +Tom had become indifferent to persecution by this time. This phase +filled the old lady's heart with consternation. This indifference must +be broken up at any cost. Now she heard of Pain-killer for the first +time. She ordered a lot at once. She tasted it and was filled with +gratitude. It was simply fire in a liquid form. She dropped the water +treatment and everything else, and pinned her faith to Pain-killer. She +gave Tom a teaspoonful and watched with the deepest anxiety for the +result. Her troubles were instantly at rest, her soul at peace again; +for the "indifference" was broken up. The boy could not have shown a +wilder, heartier interest, if she had built a fire under him. + +Tom felt that it was time to wake up; this sort of life might be +romantic enough, in his blighted condition, but it was getting to have +too little sentiment and too much distracting variety about it. So he +thought over various plans for relief, and finally hit pon that of +professing to be fond of Pain-killer. He asked for it so often that he +became a nuisance, and his aunt ended by telling him to help himself +and quit bothering her. If it had been Sid, she would have had no +misgivings to alloy her delight; but since it was Tom, she watched the +bottle clandestinely. She found that the medicine did really diminish, +but it did not occur to her that the boy was mending the health of a +crack in the sitting-room floor with it. + +One day Tom was in the act of dosing the crack when his aunt's yellow +cat came along, purring, eying the teaspoon avariciously, and begging +for a taste. Tom said: + +"Don't ask for it unless you want it, Peter." + +But Peter signified that he did want it. + +"You better make sure." + +Peter was sure. + +"Now you've asked for it, and I'll give it to you, because there ain't +anything mean about me; but if you find you don't like it, you mustn't +blame anybody but your own self." + +Peter was agreeable. So Tom pried his mouth open and poured down the +Pain-killer. Peter sprang a couple of yards in the air, and then +delivered a war-whoop and set off round and round the room, banging +against furniture, upsetting flower-pots, and making general havoc. +Next he rose on his hind feet and pranced around, in a frenzy of +enjoyment, with his head over his shoulder and his voice proclaiming +his unappeasable happiness. Then he went tearing around the house again +spreading chaos and destruction in his path. Aunt Polly entered in time +to see him throw a few double summersets, deliver a final mighty +hurrah, and sail through the open window, carrying the rest of the +flower-pots with him. The old lady stood petrified with astonishment, +peering over her glasses; Tom lay on the floor expiring with laughter. + +"Tom, what on earth ails that cat?" + +"I don't know, aunt," gasped the boy. + +"Why, I never see anything like it. What did make him act so?" + +"Deed I don't know, Aunt Polly; cats always act so when they're having +a good time." + +"They do, do they?" There was something in the tone that made Tom +apprehensive. + +"Yes'm. That is, I believe they do." + +"You DO?" + +"Yes'm." + +The old lady was bending down, Tom watching, with interest emphasized +by anxiety. Too late he divined her "drift." The handle of the telltale +teaspoon was visible under the bed-valance. Aunt Polly took it, held it +up. Tom winced, and dropped his eyes. Aunt Polly raised him by the +usual handle--his ear--and cracked his head soundly with her thimble. + +"Now, sir, what did you want to treat that poor dumb beast so, for?" + +"I done it out of pity for him--because he hadn't any aunt." + +"Hadn't any aunt!--you numskull. What has that got to do with it?" + +"Heaps. Because if he'd had one she'd a burnt him out herself! She'd a +roasted his bowels out of him 'thout any more feeling than if he was a +human!" + +Aunt Polly felt a sudden pang of remorse. This was putting the thing +in a new light; what was cruelty to a cat MIGHT be cruelty to a boy, +too. She began to soften; she felt sorry. Her eyes watered a little, +and she put her hand on Tom's head and said gently: + +"I was meaning for the best, Tom. And, Tom, it DID do you good." + +Tom looked up in her face with just a perceptible twinkle peeping +through his gravity. + +"I know you was meaning for the best, aunty, and so was I with Peter. +It done HIM good, too. I never see him get around so since--" + +"Oh, go 'long with you, Tom, before you aggravate me again. And you +try and see if you can't be a good boy, for once, and you needn't take +any more medicine." + +Tom reached school ahead of time. It was noticed that this strange +thing had been occurring every day latterly. And now, as usual of late, +he hung about the gate of the schoolyard instead of playing with his +comrades. He was sick, he said, and he looked it. He tried to seem to +be looking everywhere but whither he really was looking--down the road. +Presently Jeff Thatcher hove in sight, and Tom's face lighted; he gazed +a moment, and then turned sorrowfully away. When Jeff arrived, Tom +accosted him; and "led up" warily to opportunities for remark about +Becky, but the giddy lad never could see the bait. Tom watched and +watched, hoping whenever a frisking frock came in sight, and hating the +owner of it as soon as he saw she was not the right one. At last frocks +ceased to appear, and he dropped hopelessly into the dumps; he entered +the empty schoolhouse and sat down to suffer. Then one more frock +passed in at the gate, and Tom's heart gave a great bound. The next +instant he was out, and "going on" like an Indian; yelling, laughing, +chasing boys, jumping over the fence at risk of life and limb, throwing +handsprings, standing on his head--doing all the heroic things he could +conceive of, and keeping a furtive eye out, all the while, to see if +Becky Thatcher was noticing. But she seemed to be unconscious of it +all; she never looked. Could it be possible that she was not aware that +he was there? He carried his exploits to her immediate vicinity; came +war-whooping around, snatched a boy's cap, hurled it to the roof of the +schoolhouse, broke through a group of boys, tumbling them in every +direction, and fell sprawling, himself, under Becky's nose, almost +upsetting her--and she turned, with her nose in the air, and he heard +her say: "Mf! some people think they're mighty smart--always showing +off!" + +Tom's cheeks burned. He gathered himself up and sneaked off, crushed +and crestfallen. + +CHAPTER XIII + +TOM'S mind was made up now. He was gloomy and desperate. He was a +forsaken, friendless boy, he said; nobody loved him; when they found +out what they had driven him to, perhaps they would be sorry; he had +tried to do right and get along, but they would not let him; since +nothing would do them but to be rid of him, let it be so; and let them +blame HIM for the consequences--why shouldn't they? What right had the +friendless to complain? Yes, they had forced him to it at last: he +would lead a life of crime. There was no choice. + +By this time he was far down Meadow Lane, and the bell for school to +"take up" tinkled faintly upon his ear. He sobbed, now, to think he +should never, never hear that old familiar sound any more--it was very +hard, but it was forced on him; since he was driven out into the cold +world, he must submit--but he forgave them. Then the sobs came thick +and fast. + +Just at this point he met his soul's sworn comrade, Joe Harper +--hard-eyed, and with evidently a great and dismal purpose in his heart. +Plainly here were "two souls with but a single thought." Tom, wiping +his eyes with his sleeve, began to blubber out something about a +resolution to escape from hard usage and lack of sympathy at home by +roaming abroad into the great world never to return; and ended by +hoping that Joe would not forget him. + +But it transpired that this was a request which Joe had just been +going to make of Tom, and had come to hunt him up for that purpose. His +mother had whipped him for drinking some cream which he had never +tasted and knew nothing about; it was plain that she was tired of him +and wished him to go; if she felt that way, there was nothing for him +to do but succumb; he hoped she would be happy, and never regret having +driven her poor boy out into the unfeeling world to suffer and die. + +As the two boys walked sorrowing along, they made a new compact to +stand by each other and be brothers and never separate till death +relieved them of their troubles. Then they began to lay their plans. +Joe was for being a hermit, and living on crusts in a remote cave, and +dying, some time, of cold and want and grief; but after listening to +Tom, he conceded that there were some conspicuous advantages about a +life of crime, and so he consented to be a pirate. + +Three miles below St. Petersburg, at a point where the Mississippi +River was a trifle over a mile wide, there was a long, narrow, wooded +island, with a shallow bar at the head of it, and this offered well as +a rendezvous. It was not inhabited; it lay far over toward the further +shore, abreast a dense and almost wholly unpeopled forest. So Jackson's +Island was chosen. Who were to be the subjects of their piracies was a +matter that did not occur to them. Then they hunted up Huckleberry +Finn, and he joined them promptly, for all careers were one to him; he +was indifferent. They presently separated to meet at a lonely spot on +the river-bank two miles above the village at the favorite hour--which +was midnight. There was a small log raft there which they meant to +capture. Each would bring hooks and lines, and such provision as he +could steal in the most dark and mysterious way--as became outlaws. And +before the afternoon was done, they had all managed to enjoy the sweet +glory of spreading the fact that pretty soon the town would "hear +something." All who got this vague hint were cautioned to "be mum and +wait." + +About midnight Tom arrived with a boiled ham and a few trifles, +and stopped in a dense undergrowth on a small bluff overlooking the +meeting-place. It was starlight, and very still. The mighty river lay +like an ocean at rest. Tom listened a moment, but no sound disturbed the +quiet. Then he gave a low, distinct whistle. It was answered from under +the bluff. Tom whistled twice more; these signals were answered in the +same way. Then a guarded voice said: + +"Who goes there?" + +"Tom Sawyer, the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main. Name your names." + +"Huck Finn the Red-Handed, and Joe Harper the Terror of the Seas." Tom +had furnished these titles, from his favorite literature. + +"'Tis well. Give the countersign." + +Two hoarse whispers delivered the same awful word simultaneously to +the brooding night: + +"BLOOD!" + +Then Tom tumbled his ham over the bluff and let himself down after it, +tearing both skin and clothes to some extent in the effort. There was +an easy, comfortable path along the shore under the bluff, but it +lacked the advantages of difficulty and danger so valued by a pirate. + +The Terror of the Seas had brought a side of bacon, and had about worn +himself out with getting it there. Finn the Red-Handed had stolen a +skillet and a quantity of half-cured leaf tobacco, and had also brought +a few corn-cobs to make pipes with. But none of the pirates smoked or +"chewed" but himself. The Black Avenger of the Spanish Main said it +would never do to start without some fire. That was a wise thought; +matches were hardly known there in that day. They saw a fire +smouldering upon a great raft a hundred yards above, and they went +stealthily thither and helped themselves to a chunk. They made an +imposing adventure of it, saying, "Hist!" every now and then, and +suddenly halting with finger on lip; moving with hands on imaginary +dagger-hilts; and giving orders in dismal whispers that if "the foe" +stirred, to "let him have it to the hilt," because "dead men tell no +tales." They knew well enough that the raftsmen were all down at the +village laying in stores or having a spree, but still that was no +excuse for their conducting this thing in an unpiratical way. + +They shoved off, presently, Tom in command, Huck at the after oar and +Joe at the forward. Tom stood amidships, gloomy-browed, and with folded +arms, and gave his orders in a low, stern whisper: + +"Luff, and bring her to the wind!" + +"Aye-aye, sir!" + +"Steady, steady-y-y-y!" + +"Steady it is, sir!" + +"Let her go off a point!" + +"Point it is, sir!" + +As the boys steadily and monotonously drove the raft toward mid-stream +it was no doubt understood that these orders were given only for +"style," and were not intended to mean anything in particular. + +"What sail's she carrying?" + +"Courses, tops'ls, and flying-jib, sir." + +"Send the r'yals up! Lay out aloft, there, half a dozen of ye +--foretopmaststuns'l! Lively, now!" + +"Aye-aye, sir!" + +"Shake out that maintogalans'l! Sheets and braces! NOW my hearties!" + +"Aye-aye, sir!" + +"Hellum-a-lee--hard a port! Stand by to meet her when she comes! Port, +port! NOW, men! With a will! Stead-y-y-y!" + +"Steady it is, sir!" + +The raft drew beyond the middle of the river; the boys pointed her +head right, and then lay on their oars. The river was not high, so +there was not more than a two or three mile current. Hardly a word was +said during the next three-quarters of an hour. Now the raft was +passing before the distant town. Two or three glimmering lights showed +where it lay, peacefully sleeping, beyond the vague vast sweep of +star-gemmed water, unconscious of the tremendous event that was happening. +The Black Avenger stood still with folded arms, "looking his last" upon +the scene of his former joys and his later sufferings, and wishing +"she" could see him now, abroad on the wild sea, facing peril and death +with dauntless heart, going to his doom with a grim smile on his lips. +It was but a small strain on his imagination to remove Jackson's Island +beyond eyeshot of the village, and so he "looked his last" with a +broken and satisfied heart. The other pirates were looking their last, +too; and they all looked so long that they came near letting the +current drift them out of the range of the island. But they discovered +the danger in time, and made shift to avert it. About two o'clock in +the morning the raft grounded on the bar two hundred yards above the +head of the island, and they waded back and forth until they had landed +their freight. Part of the little raft's belongings consisted of an old +sail, and this they spread over a nook in the bushes for a tent to +shelter their provisions; but they themselves would sleep in the open +air in good weather, as became outlaws. + +They built a fire against the side of a great log twenty or thirty +steps within the sombre depths of the forest, and then cooked some +bacon in the frying-pan for supper, and used up half of the corn "pone" +stock they had brought. It seemed glorious sport to be feasting in that +wild, free way in the virgin forest of an unexplored and uninhabited +island, far from the haunts of men, and they said they never would +return to civilization. The climbing fire lit up their faces and threw +its ruddy glare upon the pillared tree-trunks of their forest temple, +and upon the varnished foliage and festooning vines. + +When the last crisp slice of bacon was gone, and the last allowance of +corn pone devoured, the boys stretched themselves out on the grass, +filled with contentment. They could have found a cooler place, but they +would not deny themselves such a romantic feature as the roasting +camp-fire. + +"AIN'T it gay?" said Joe. + +"It's NUTS!" said Tom. "What would the boys say if they could see us?" + +"Say? Well, they'd just die to be here--hey, Hucky!" + +"I reckon so," said Huckleberry; "anyways, I'm suited. I don't want +nothing better'n this. I don't ever get enough to eat, gen'ally--and +here they can't come and pick at a feller and bullyrag him so." + +"It's just the life for me," said Tom. "You don't have to get up, +mornings, and you don't have to go to school, and wash, and all that +blame foolishness. You see a pirate don't have to do ANYTHING, Joe, +when he's ashore, but a hermit HE has to be praying considerable, and +then he don't have any fun, anyway, all by himself that way." + +"Oh yes, that's so," said Joe, "but I hadn't thought much about it, +you know. I'd a good deal rather be a pirate, now that I've tried it." + +"You see," said Tom, "people don't go much on hermits, nowadays, like +they used to in old times, but a pirate's always respected. And a +hermit's got to sleep on the hardest place he can find, and put +sackcloth and ashes on his head, and stand out in the rain, and--" + +"What does he put sackcloth and ashes on his head for?" inquired Huck. + +"I dono. But they've GOT to do it. Hermits always do. You'd have to do +that if you was a hermit." + +"Dern'd if I would," said Huck. + +"Well, what would you do?" + +"I dono. But I wouldn't do that." + +"Why, Huck, you'd HAVE to. How'd you get around it?" + +"Why, I just wouldn't stand it. I'd run away." + +"Run away! Well, you WOULD be a nice old slouch of a hermit. You'd be +a disgrace." + +The Red-Handed made no response, being better employed. He had +finished gouging out a cob, and now he fitted a weed stem to it, loaded +it with tobacco, and was pressing a coal to the charge and blowing a +cloud of fragrant smoke--he was in the full bloom of luxurious +contentment. The other pirates envied him this majestic vice, and +secretly resolved to acquire it shortly. Presently Huck said: + +"What does pirates have to do?" + +Tom said: + +"Oh, they have just a bully time--take ships and burn them, and get +the money and bury it in awful places in their island where there's +ghosts and things to watch it, and kill everybody in the ships--make +'em walk a plank." + +"And they carry the women to the island," said Joe; "they don't kill +the women." + +"No," assented Tom, "they don't kill the women--they're too noble. And +the women's always beautiful, too. + +"And don't they wear the bulliest clothes! Oh no! All gold and silver +and di'monds," said Joe, with enthusiasm. + +"Who?" said Huck. + +"Why, the pirates." + +Huck scanned his own clothing forlornly. + +"I reckon I ain't dressed fitten for a pirate," said he, with a +regretful pathos in his voice; "but I ain't got none but these." + +But the other boys told him the fine clothes would come fast enough, +after they should have begun their adventures. They made him understand +that his poor rags would do to begin with, though it was customary for +wealthy pirates to start with a proper wardrobe. + +Gradually their talk died out and drowsiness began to steal upon the +eyelids of the little waifs. The pipe dropped from the fingers of the +Red-Handed, and he slept the sleep of the conscience-free and the +weary. The Terror of the Seas and the Black Avenger of the Spanish Main +had more difficulty in getting to sleep. They said their prayers +inwardly, and lying down, since there was nobody there with authority +to make them kneel and recite aloud; in truth, they had a mind not to +say them at all, but they were afraid to proceed to such lengths as +that, lest they might call down a sudden and special thunderbolt from +heaven. Then at once they reached and hovered upon the imminent verge +of sleep--but an intruder came, now, that would not "down." It was +conscience. They began to feel a vague fear that they had been doing +wrong to run away; and next they thought of the stolen meat, and then +the real torture came. They tried to argue it away by reminding +conscience that they had purloined sweetmeats and apples scores of +times; but conscience was not to be appeased by such thin +plausibilities; it seemed to them, in the end, that there was no +getting around the stubborn fact that taking sweetmeats was only +"hooking," while taking bacon and hams and such valuables was plain +simple stealing--and there was a command against that in the Bible. So +they inwardly resolved that so long as they remained in the business, +their piracies should not again be sullied with the crime of stealing. +Then conscience granted a truce, and these curiously inconsistent +pirates fell peacefully to sleep. + +CHAPTER XIV + +WHEN Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and +rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the +cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in +the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred; +not a sound obtruded upon great Nature's meditation. Beaded dewdrops +stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the +fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe +and Huck still slept. + +Now, far away in the woods a bird called; another answered; presently +the hammering of a woodpecker was heard. Gradually the cool dim gray of +the morning whitened, and as gradually sounds multiplied and life +manifested itself. The marvel of Nature shaking off sleep and going to +work unfolded itself to the musing boy. A little green worm came +crawling over a dewy leaf, lifting two-thirds of his body into the air +from time to time and "sniffing around," then proceeding again--for he +was measuring, Tom said; and when the worm approached him, of its own +accord, he sat as still as a stone, with his hopes rising and falling, +by turns, as the creature still came toward him or seemed inclined to +go elsewhere; and when at last it considered a painful moment with its +curved body in the air and then came decisively down upon Tom's leg and +began a journey over him, his whole heart was glad--for that meant that +he was going to have a new suit of clothes--without the shadow of a +doubt a gaudy piratical uniform. Now a procession of ants appeared, +from nowhere in particular, and went about their labors; one struggled +manfully by with a dead spider five times as big as itself in its arms, +and lugged it straight up a tree-trunk. A brown spotted lady-bug +climbed the dizzy height of a grass blade, and Tom bent down close to +it and said, "Lady-bug, lady-bug, fly away home, your house is on fire, +your children's alone," and she took wing and went off to see about it +--which did not surprise the boy, for he knew of old that this insect was +credulous about conflagrations, and he had practised upon its +simplicity more than once. A tumblebug came next, heaving sturdily at +its ball, and Tom touched the creature, to see it shut its legs against +its body and pretend to be dead. The birds were fairly rioting by this +time. A catbird, the Northern mocker, lit in a tree over Tom's head, +and trilled out her imitations of her neighbors in a rapture of +enjoyment; then a shrill jay swept down, a flash of blue flame, and +stopped on a twig almost within the boy's reach, cocked his head to one +side and eyed the strangers with a consuming curiosity; a gray squirrel +and a big fellow of the "fox" kind came skurrying along, sitting up at +intervals to inspect and chatter at the boys, for the wild things had +probably never seen a human being before and scarcely knew whether to +be afraid or not. All Nature was wide awake and stirring, now; long +lances of sunlight pierced down through the dense foliage far and near, +and a few butterflies came fluttering upon the scene. + +Tom stirred up the other pirates and they all clattered away with a +shout, and in a minute or two were stripped and chasing after and +tumbling over each other in the shallow limpid water of the white +sandbar. They felt no longing for the little village sleeping in the +distance beyond the majestic waste of water. A vagrant current or a +slight rise in the river had carried off their raft, but this only +gratified them, since its going was something like burning the bridge +between them and civilization. + +They came back to camp wonderfully refreshed, glad-hearted, and +ravenous; and they soon had the camp-fire blazing up again. Huck found +a spring of clear cold water close by, and the boys made cups of broad +oak or hickory leaves, and felt that water, sweetened with such a +wildwood charm as that, would be a good enough substitute for coffee. +While Joe was slicing bacon for breakfast, Tom and Huck asked him to +hold on a minute; they stepped to a promising nook in the river-bank +and threw in their lines; almost immediately they had reward. Joe had +not had time to get impatient before they were back again with some +handsome bass, a couple of sun-perch and a small catfish--provisions +enough for quite a family. They fried the fish with the bacon, and were +astonished; for no fish had ever seemed so delicious before. They did +not know that the quicker a fresh-water fish is on the fire after he is +caught the better he is; and they reflected little upon what a sauce +open-air sleeping, open-air exercise, bathing, and a large ingredient +of hunger make, too. + +They lay around in the shade, after breakfast, while Huck had a smoke, +and then went off through the woods on an exploring expedition. They +tramped gayly along, over decaying logs, through tangled underbrush, +among solemn monarchs of the forest, hung from their crowns to the +ground with a drooping regalia of grape-vines. Now and then they came +upon snug nooks carpeted with grass and jeweled with flowers. + +They found plenty of things to be delighted with, but nothing to be +astonished at. They discovered that the island was about three miles +long and a quarter of a mile wide, and that the shore it lay closest to +was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards +wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the +middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too +hungry to stop to fish, but they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and +then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon +began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded +in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the +spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing +crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently--it was budding +homesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps +and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and +none was brave enough to speak his thought. + +For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar +sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a +clock which he takes no distinct note of. But now this mysterious sound +became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started, +glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude. +There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen +boom came floating down out of the distance. + +"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath. + +"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper. + +"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder--" + +"Hark!" said Tom. "Listen--don't talk." + +They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom +troubled the solemn hush. + +"Let's go and see." + +They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. +They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The +little steam ferryboat was about a mile below the village, drifting +with the current. Her broad deck seemed crowded with people. There were +a great many skiffs rowing about or floating with the stream in the +neighborhood of the ferryboat, but the boys could not determine what +the men in them were doing. Presently a great jet of white smoke burst +from the ferryboat's side, and as it expanded and rose in a lazy cloud, +that same dull throb of sound was borne to the listeners again. + +"I know now!" exclaimed Tom; "somebody's drownded!" + +"That's it!" said Huck; "they done that last summer, when Bill Turner +got drownded; they shoot a cannon over the water, and that makes him +come up to the top. Yes, and they take loaves of bread and put +quicksilver in 'em and set 'em afloat, and wherever there's anybody +that's drownded, they'll float right there and stop." + +"Yes, I've heard about that," said Joe. "I wonder what makes the bread +do that." + +"Oh, it ain't the bread, so much," said Tom; "I reckon it's mostly +what they SAY over it before they start it out." + +"But they don't say anything over it," said Huck. "I've seen 'em and +they don't." + +"Well, that's funny," said Tom. "But maybe they say it to themselves. +Of COURSE they do. Anybody might know that." + +The other boys agreed that there was reason in what Tom said, because +an ignorant lump of bread, uninstructed by an incantation, could not be +expected to act very intelligently when set upon an errand of such +gravity. + +"By jings, I wish I was over there, now," said Joe. + +"I do too" said Huck "I'd give heaps to know who it is." + +The boys still listened and watched. Presently a revealing thought +flashed through Tom's mind, and he exclaimed: + +"Boys, I know who's drownded--it's us!" + +They felt like heroes in an instant. Here was a gorgeous triumph; they +were missed; they were mourned; hearts were breaking on their account; +tears were being shed; accusing memories of unkindness to these poor +lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being +indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole +town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety +was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after +all. + +As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed +business and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They +were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious +trouble they were making. They caught fish, cooked supper and ate it, +and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying +about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their +account were gratifying to look upon--from their point of view. But +when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to +talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently +wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe +could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not +enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; they +grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two escaped, unawares. By and by +Joe timidly ventured upon a roundabout "feeler" as to how the others +might look upon a return to civilization--not right now, but-- + +Tom withered him with derision! Huck, being uncommitted as yet, joined +in with Tom, and the waverer quickly "explained," and was glad to get +out of the scrape with as little taint of chicken-hearted homesickness +clinging to his garments as he could. Mutiny was effectually laid to +rest for the moment. + +As the night deepened, Huck began to nod, and presently to snore. Joe +followed next. Tom lay upon his elbow motionless, for some time, +watching the two intently. At last he got up cautiously, on his knees, +and went searching among the grass and the flickering reflections flung +by the camp-fire. He picked up and inspected several large +semi-cylinders of the thin white bark of a sycamore, and finally chose +two which seemed to suit him. Then he knelt by the fire and painfully +wrote something upon each of these with his "red keel"; one he rolled up +and put in his jacket pocket, and the other he put in Joe's hat and +removed it to a little distance from the owner. And he also put into the +hat certain schoolboy treasures of almost inestimable value--among them +a lump of chalk, an India-rubber ball, three fishhooks, and one of that +kind of marbles known as a "sure 'nough crystal." Then he tiptoed his +way cautiously among the trees till he felt that he was out of hearing, +and straightway broke into a keen run in the direction of the sandbar. + +CHAPTER XV + +A FEW minutes later Tom was in the shoal water of the bar, wading +toward the Illinois shore. Before the depth reached his middle he was +half-way over; the current would permit no more wading, now, so he +struck out confidently to swim the remaining hundred yards. He swam +quartering upstream, but still was swept downward rather faster than he +had expected. However, he reached the shore finally, and drifted along +till he found a low place and drew himself out. He put his hand on his +jacket pocket, found his piece of bark safe, and then struck through +the woods, following the shore, with streaming garments. Shortly before +ten o'clock he came out into an open place opposite the village, and +saw the ferryboat lying in the shadow of the trees and the high bank. +Everything was quiet under the blinking stars. He crept down the bank, +watching with all his eyes, slipped into the water, swam three or four +strokes and climbed into the skiff that did "yawl" duty at the boat's +stern. He laid himself down under the thwarts and waited, panting. + +Presently the cracked bell tapped and a voice gave the order to "cast +off." A minute or two later the skiff's head was standing high up, +against the boat's swell, and the voyage was begun. Tom felt happy in +his success, for he knew it was the boat's last trip for the night. At +the end of a long twelve or fifteen minutes the wheels stopped, and Tom +slipped overboard and swam ashore in the dusk, landing fifty yards +downstream, out of danger of possible stragglers. + +He flew along unfrequented alleys, and shortly found himself at his +aunt's back fence. He climbed over, approached the "ell," and looked in +at the sitting-room window, for a light was burning there. There sat +Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, and Joe Harper's mother, grouped together, +talking. They were by the bed, and the bed was between them and the +door. Tom went to the door and began to softly lift the latch; then he +pressed gently and the door yielded a crack; he continued pushing +cautiously, and quaking every time it creaked, till he judged he might +squeeze through on his knees; so he put his head through and began, +warily. + +"What makes the candle blow so?" said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up. +"Why, that door's open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end of +strange things now. Go 'long and shut it, Sid." + +Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and "breathed" +himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch his +aunt's foot. + +"But as I was saying," said Aunt Polly, "he warn't BAD, so to say +--only mischEEvous. Only just giddy, and harum-scarum, you know. He +warn't any more responsible than a colt. HE never meant any harm, and +he was the best-hearted boy that ever was"--and she began to cry. + +"It was just so with my Joe--always full of his devilment, and up to +every kind of mischief, but he was just as unselfish and kind as he +could be--and laws bless me, to think I went and whipped him for taking +that cream, never once recollecting that I throwed it out myself +because it was sour, and I never to see him again in this world, never, +never, never, poor abused boy!" And Mrs. Harper sobbed as if her heart +would break. + +"I hope Tom's better off where he is," said Sid, "but if he'd been +better in some ways--" + +"SID!" Tom felt the glare of the old lady's eye, though he could not +see it. "Not a word against my Tom, now that he's gone! God'll take +care of HIM--never you trouble YOURself, sir! Oh, Mrs. Harper, I don't +know how to give him up! I don't know how to give him up! He was such a +comfort to me, although he tormented my old heart out of me, 'most." + +"The Lord giveth and the Lord hath taken away--Blessed be the name of +the Lord! But it's so hard--Oh, it's so hard! Only last Saturday my +Joe busted a firecracker right under my nose and I knocked him +sprawling. Little did I know then, how soon--Oh, if it was to do over +again I'd hug him and bless him for it." + +"Yes, yes, yes, I know just how you feel, Mrs. Harper, I know just +exactly how you feel. No longer ago than yesterday noon, my Tom took +and filled the cat full of Pain-killer, and I did think the cretur +would tear the house down. And God forgive me, I cracked Tom's head +with my thimble, poor boy, poor dead boy. But he's out of all his +troubles now. And the last words I ever heard him say was to reproach--" + +But this memory was too much for the old lady, and she broke entirely +down. Tom was snuffling, now, himself--and more in pity of himself than +anybody else. He could hear Mary crying, and putting in a kindly word +for him from time to time. He began to have a nobler opinion of himself +than ever before. Still, he was sufficiently touched by his aunt's +grief to long to rush out from under the bed and overwhelm her with +joy--and the theatrical gorgeousness of the thing appealed strongly to +his nature, too, but he resisted and lay still. + +He went on listening, and gathered by odds and ends that it was +conjectured at first that the boys had got drowned while taking a swim; +then the small raft had been missed; next, certain boys said the +missing lads had promised that the village should "hear something" +soon; the wise-heads had "put this and that together" and decided that +the lads had gone off on that raft and would turn up at the next town +below, presently; but toward noon the raft had been found, lodged +against the Missouri shore some five or six miles below the village +--and then hope perished; they must be drowned, else hunger would have +driven them home by nightfall if not sooner. It was believed that the +search for the bodies had been a fruitless effort merely because the +drowning must have occurred in mid-channel, since the boys, being good +swimmers, would otherwise have escaped to shore. This was Wednesday +night. If the bodies continued missing until Sunday, all hope would be +given over, and the funerals would be preached on that morning. Tom +shuddered. + +Mrs. Harper gave a sobbing good-night and turned to go. Then with a +mutual impulse the two bereaved women flung themselves into each +other's arms and had a good, consoling cry, and then parted. Aunt Polly +was tender far beyond her wont, in her good-night to Sid and Mary. Sid +snuffled a bit and Mary went off crying with all her heart. + +Aunt Polly knelt down and prayed for Tom so touchingly, so +appealingly, and with such measureless love in her words and her old +trembling voice, that he was weltering in tears again, long before she +was through. + +He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making +broken-hearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, and +turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a little in her +sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the +candle-light with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was full +of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the +candle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His +face lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put the bark +hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and +straightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him. + +He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large +there, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she was +tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and +slept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped +into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled a +mile above the village, he started quartering across and bent himself +stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for +this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture the +skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore +legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would be +made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and +entered the woods. + +He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep +awake, and then started warily down the home-stretch. The night was far +spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly abreast the +island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the +great river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. A +little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and +heard Joe say: + +"No, Tom's true-blue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He +knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud for +that sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?" + +"Well, the things is ours, anyway, ain't they?" + +"Pretty near, but not yet, Huck. The writing says they are if he ain't +back here to breakfast." + +"Which he is!" exclaimed Tom, with fine dramatic effect, stepping +grandly into camp. + +A sumptuous breakfast of bacon and fish was shortly provided, and as +the boys set to work upon it, Tom recounted (and adorned) his +adventures. They were a vain and boastful company of heroes when the +tale was done. Then Tom hid himself away in a shady nook to sleep till +noon, and the other pirates got ready to fish and explore. + +CHAPTER XVI + +AFTER dinner all the gang turned out to hunt for turtle eggs on the +bar. They went about poking sticks into the sand, and when they found a +soft place they went down on their knees and dug with their hands. +Sometimes they would take fifty or sixty eggs out of one hole. They +were perfectly round white things a trifle smaller than an English +walnut. They had a famous fried-egg feast that night, and another on +Friday morning. + +After breakfast they went whooping and prancing out on the bar, and +chased each other round and round, shedding clothes as they went, until +they were naked, and then continued the frolic far away up the shoal +water of the bar, against the stiff current, which latter tripped their +legs from under them from time to time and greatly increased the fun. +And now and then they stooped in a group and splashed water in each +other's faces with their palms, gradually approaching each other, with +averted faces to avoid the strangling sprays, and finally gripping and +struggling till the best man ducked his neighbor, and then they all +went under in a tangle of white legs and arms and came up blowing, +sputtering, laughing, and gasping for breath at one and the same time. + +When they were well exhausted, they would run out and sprawl on the +dry, hot sand, and lie there and cover themselves up with it, and by +and by break for the water again and go through the original +performance once more. Finally it occurred to them that their naked +skin represented flesh-colored "tights" very fairly; so they drew a +ring in the sand and had a circus--with three clowns in it, for none +would yield this proudest post to his neighbor. + +Next they got their marbles and played "knucks" and "ring-taw" and +"keeps" till that amusement grew stale. Then Joe and Huck had another +swim, but Tom would not venture, because he found that in kicking off +his trousers he had kicked his string of rattlesnake rattles off his +ankle, and he wondered how he had escaped cramp so long without the +protection of this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he +had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to +rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps," and fell +to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay +drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand with +his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his +weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He +erased it once more and then took himself out of temptation by driving +the other boys together and joining them. + +But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so +homesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay +very near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was downhearted, +but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready +to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon, +he would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of +cheerfulness: + +"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore +it again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light +on a rotten chest full of gold and silver--hey?" + +But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. +Tom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was +discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking +very gloomy. Finally he said: + +"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome." + +"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of +the fishing that's here." + +"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home." + +"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere." + +"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there +ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home." + +"Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon." + +"Yes, I DO want to see my mother--and you would, too, if you had one. +I ain't any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little. + +"Well, we'll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck? +Poor thing--does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like +it here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?" + +Huck said, "Y-e-s"--without any heart in it. + +"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising. +"There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself. + +"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get +laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies. +We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can +get along without him, per'aps." + +But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go +sullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see +Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an +ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade +off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at +Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said: + +"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now +it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom." + +"I won't! You can all go, if you want to. I mean to stay." + +"Tom, I better go." + +"Well, go 'long--who's hendering you." + +Huck began to pick up his scattered clothes. He said: + +"Tom, I wisht you'd come, too. Now you think it over. We'll wait for +you when we get to shore." + +"Well, you'll wait a blame long time, that's all." + +Huck started sorrowfully away, and Tom stood looking after him, with a +strong desire tugging at his heart to yield his pride and go along too. +He hoped the boys would stop, but they still waded slowly on. It +suddenly dawned on Tom that it was become very lonely and still. He +made one final struggle with his pride, and then darted after his +comrades, yelling: + +"Wait! Wait! I want to tell you something!" + +They presently stopped and turned around. When he got to where they +were, he began unfolding his secret, and they listened moodily till at +last they saw the "point" he was driving at, and then they set up a +war-whoop of applause and said it was "splendid!" and said if he had +told them at first, they wouldn't have started away. He made a plausible +excuse; but his real reason had been the fear that not even the secret +would keep them with him any very great length of time, and so he had +meant to hold it in reserve as a last seduction. + +The lads came gayly back and went at their sports again with a will, +chattering all the time about Tom's stupendous plan and admiring the +genius of it. After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to +learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to +try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never +smoked anything before but cigars made of grape-vine, and they "bit" +the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway. + +Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, +charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant +taste, and they gagged a little, but Tom said: + +"Why, it's just as easy! If I'd a knowed this was all, I'd a learnt +long ago." + +"So would I," said Joe. "It's just nothing." + +"Why, many a time I've looked at people smoking, and thought well I +wish I could do that; but I never thought I could," said Tom. + +"That's just the way with me, hain't it, Huck? You've heard me talk +just that way--haven't you, Huck? I'll leave it to Huck if I haven't." + +"Yes--heaps of times," said Huck. + +"Well, I have too," said Tom; "oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the +slaughter-house. Don't you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and +Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don't you remember, +Huck, 'bout me saying that?" + +"Yes, that's so," said Huck. "That was the day after I lost a white +alley. No, 'twas the day before." + +"There--I told you so," said Tom. "Huck recollects it." + +"I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day," said Joe. "I don't feel +sick." + +"Neither do I," said Tom. "I could smoke it all day. But I bet you +Jeff Thatcher couldn't." + +"Jeff Thatcher! Why, he'd keel over just with two draws. Just let him +try it once. HE'D see!" + +"I bet he would. And Johnny Miller--I wish could see Johnny Miller +tackle it once." + +"Oh, don't I!" said Joe. "Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn't any +more do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch HIM." + +"'Deed it would, Joe. Say--I wish the boys could see us now." + +"So do I." + +"Say--boys, don't say anything about it, and some time when they're +around, I'll come up to you and say, 'Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.' +And you'll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn't anything, you'll +say, 'Yes, I got my OLD pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain't +very good.' And I'll say, 'Oh, that's all right, if it's STRONG +enough.' And then you'll out with the pipes, and we'll light up just as +ca'm, and then just see 'em look!" + +"By jings, that'll be gay, Tom! I wish it was NOW!" + +"So do I! And when we tell 'em we learned when we was off pirating, +won't they wish they'd been along?" + +"Oh, I reckon not! I'll just BET they will!" + +So the talk ran on. But presently it began to flag a trifle, and grow +disjointed. The silences widened; the expectoration marvellously +increased. Every pore inside the boys' cheeks became a spouting +fountain; they could scarcely bail out the cellars under their tongues +fast enough to prevent an inundation; little overflowings down their +throats occurred in spite of all they could do, and sudden retchings +followed every time. Both boys were looking very pale and miserable, +now. Joe's pipe dropped from his nerveless fingers. Tom's followed. +Both fountains were going furiously and both pumps bailing with might +and main. Joe said feebly: + +"I've lost my knife. I reckon I better go and find it." + +Tom said, with quivering lips and halting utterance: + +"I'll help you. You go over that way and I'll hunt around by the +spring. No, you needn't come, Huck--we can find it." + +So Huck sat down again, and waited an hour. Then he found it lonesome, +and went to find his comrades. They were wide apart in the woods, both +very pale, both fast asleep. But something informed him that if they +had had any trouble they had got rid of it. + +They were not talkative at supper that night. They had a humble look, +and when Huck prepared his pipe after the meal and was going to prepare +theirs, they said no, they were not feeling very well--something they +ate at dinner had disagreed with them. + +About midnight Joe awoke, and called the boys. There was a brooding +oppressiveness in the air that seemed to bode something. The boys +huddled themselves together and sought the friendly companionship of +the fire, though the dull dead heat of the breathless atmosphere was +stifling. They sat still, intent and waiting. The solemn hush +continued. Beyond the light of the fire everything was swallowed up in +the blackness of darkness. Presently there came a quivering glow that +vaguely revealed the foliage for a moment and then vanished. By and by +another came, a little stronger. Then another. Then a faint moan came +sighing through the branches of the forest and the boys felt a fleeting +breath upon their cheeks, and shuddered with the fancy that the Spirit +of the Night had gone by. There was a pause. Now a weird flash turned +night into day and showed every little grass-blade, separate and +distinct, that grew about their feet. And it showed three white, +startled faces, too. A deep peal of thunder went rolling and tumbling +down the heavens and lost itself in sullen rumblings in the distance. A +sweep of chilly air passed by, rustling all the leaves and snowing the +flaky ashes broadcast about the fire. Another fierce glare lit up the +forest and an instant crash followed that seemed to rend the tree-tops +right over the boys' heads. They clung together in terror, in the thick +gloom that followed. A few big rain-drops fell pattering upon the +leaves. + +"Quick! boys, go for the tent!" exclaimed Tom. + +They sprang away, stumbling over roots and among vines in the dark, no +two plunging in the same direction. A furious blast roared through the +trees, making everything sing as it went. One blinding flash after +another came, and peal on peal of deafening thunder. And now a +drenching rain poured down and the rising hurricane drove it in sheets +along the ground. The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring +wind and the booming thunder-blasts drowned their voices utterly. +However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter under +the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have company +in misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, the +old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have +allowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently the +sail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging away on the blast. +The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and +bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the river-bank. +Now the battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of +lightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out in +clean-cut and shadowless distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy +river, white with foam, the driving spray of spume-flakes, the dim +outlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the +drifting cloud-rack and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while +some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the younger +growth; and the unflagging thunder-peals came now in ear-splitting +explosive bursts, keen and sharp, and unspeakably appalling. The storm +culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island +to pieces, burn it up, drown it to the tree-tops, blow it away, and +deafen every creature in it, all at one and the same moment. It was a +wild night for homeless young heads to be out in. + +But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker +and weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The +boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there was +still something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the +shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and +they were not under it when the catastrophe happened. + +Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire as well; for they were +but heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provision +against rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked through +and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presently +discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had +been built against (where it curved upward and separated itself from +the ground), that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; so +they patiently wrought until, with shreds and bark gathered from the +under sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Then +they piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and +were glad-hearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a +feast, and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorified +their midnight adventure until morning, for there was not a dry spot to +sleep on, anywhere around. + +As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them, +and they went out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They got +scorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. After +the meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a little homesick once +more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well as +he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming, +or anything. He reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray +of cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a new device. This +was to knock off being pirates, for a while, and be Indians for a +change. They were attracted by this idea; so it was not long before +they were stripped, and striped from head to heel with black mud, like +so many zebras--all of them chiefs, of course--and then they went +tearing through the woods to attack an English settlement. + +By and by they separated into three hostile tribes, and darted upon +each other from ambush with dreadful war-whoops, and killed and scalped +each other by thousands. It was a gory day. Consequently it was an +extremely satisfactory one. + +They assembled in camp toward supper-time, hungry and happy; but now a +difficulty arose--hostile Indians could not break the bread of +hospitality together without first making peace, and this was a simple +impossibility without smoking a pipe of peace. There was no other +process that ever they had heard of. Two of the savages almost wished +they had remained pirates. However, there was no other way; so with +such show of cheerfulness as they could muster they called for the pipe +and took their whiff as it passed, in due form. + +And behold, they were glad they had gone into savagery, for they had +gained something; they found that they could now smoke a little without +having to go and hunt for a lost knife; they did not get sick enough to +be seriously uncomfortable. They were not likely to fool away this high +promise for lack of effort. No, they practised cautiously, after +supper, with right fair success, and so they spent a jubilant evening. +They were prouder and happier in their new acquirement than they would +have been in the scalping and skinning of the Six Nations. We will +leave them to smoke and chatter and brag, since we have no further use +for them at present. + +CHAPTER XVII + +BUT there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil +Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being +put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet +possessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all +conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, +and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a +burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and +gradually gave them up. + +In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the +deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found +nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized: + +"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't got +anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob. + +Presently she stopped, and said to herself: + +"It was right here. Oh, if it was to do over again, I wouldn't say +that--I wouldn't say it for the whole world. But he's gone now; I'll +never, never, never see him any more." + +This thought broke her down, and she wandered away, with tears rolling +down her cheeks. Then quite a group of boys and girls--playmates of +Tom's and Joe's--came by, and stood looking over the paling fence and +talking in reverent tones of how Tom did so-and-so the last time they +saw him, and how Joe said this and that small trifle (pregnant with +awful prophecy, as they could easily see now!)--and each speaker +pointed out the exact spot where the lost lads stood at the time, and +then added something like "and I was a-standing just so--just as I am +now, and as if you was him--I was as close as that--and he smiled, just +this way--and then something seemed to go all over me, like--awful, you +know--and I never thought what it meant, of course, but I can see now!" + +Then there was a dispute about who saw the dead boys last in life, and +many claimed that dismal distinction, and offered evidences, more or +less tampered with by the witness; and when it was ultimately decided +who DID see the departed last, and exchanged the last words with them, +the lucky parties took upon themselves a sort of sacred importance, and +were gaped at and envied by all the rest. One poor chap, who had no +other grandeur to offer, said with tolerably manifest pride in the +remembrance: + +"Well, Tom Sawyer he licked me once." + +But that bid for glory was a failure. Most of the boys could say that, +and so that cheapened the distinction too much. The group loitered +away, still recalling memories of the lost heroes, in awed voices. + +When the Sunday-school hour was finished, the next morning, the bell +began to toll, instead of ringing in the usual way. It was a very still +Sabbath, and the mournful sound seemed in keeping with the musing hush +that lay upon nature. The villagers began to gather, loitering a moment +in the vestibule to converse in whispers about the sad event. But there +was no whispering in the house; only the funereal rustling of dresses +as the women gathered to their seats disturbed the silence there. None +could remember when the little church had been so full before. There +was finally a waiting pause, an expectant dumbness, and then Aunt Polly +entered, followed by Sid and Mary, and they by the Harper family, all +in deep black, and the whole congregation, the old minister as well, +rose reverently and stood until the mourners were seated in the front +pew. There was another communing silence, broken at intervals by +muffled sobs, and then the minister spread his hands abroad and prayed. +A moving hymn was sung, and the text followed: "I am the Resurrection +and the Life." + +As the service proceeded, the clergyman drew such pictures of the +graces, the winning ways, and the rare promise of the lost lads that +every soul there, thinking he recognized these pictures, felt a pang in +remembering that he had persistently blinded himself to them always +before, and had as persistently seen only faults and flaws in the poor +boys. The minister related many a touching incident in the lives of the +departed, too, which illustrated their sweet, generous natures, and the +people could easily see, now, how noble and beautiful those episodes +were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred they had +seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide. The +congregation became more and more moved, as the pathetic tale went on, +till at last the whole company broke down and joined the weeping +mourners in a chorus of anguished sobs, the preacher himself giving way +to his feelings, and crying in the pulpit. + +There was a rustle in the gallery, which nobody noticed; a moment +later the church door creaked; the minister raised his streaming eyes +above his handkerchief, and stood transfixed! First one and then +another pair of eyes followed the minister's, and then almost with one +impulse the congregation rose and stared while the three dead boys came +marching up the aisle, Tom in the lead, Joe next, and Huck, a ruin of +drooping rags, sneaking sheepishly in the rear! They had been hid in +the unused gallery listening to their own funeral sermon! + +Aunt Polly, Mary, and the Harpers threw themselves upon their restored +ones, smothered them with kisses and poured out thanksgivings, while +poor Huck stood abashed and uncomfortable, not knowing exactly what to +do or where to hide from so many unwelcoming eyes. He wavered, and +started to slink away, but Tom seized him and said: + +"Aunt Polly, it ain't fair. Somebody's got to be glad to see Huck." + +"And so they shall. I'm glad to see him, poor motherless thing!" And +the loving attentions Aunt Polly lavished upon him were the one thing +capable of making him more uncomfortable than he was before. + +Suddenly the minister shouted at the top of his voice: "Praise God +from whom all blessings flow--SING!--and put your hearts in it!" + +And they did. Old Hundred swelled up with a triumphant burst, and +while it shook the rafters Tom Sawyer the Pirate looked around upon the +envying juveniles about him and confessed in his heart that this was +the proudest moment of his life. + +As the "sold" congregation trooped out they said they would almost be +willing to be made ridiculous again to hear Old Hundred sung like that +once more. + +Tom got more cuffs and kisses that day--according to Aunt Polly's +varying moods--than he had earned before in a year; and he hardly knew +which expressed the most gratefulness to God and affection for himself. + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THAT was Tom's great secret--the scheme to return home with his +brother pirates and attend their own funerals. They had paddled over to +the Missouri shore on a log, at dusk on Saturday, landing five or six +miles below the village; they had slept in the woods at the edge of the +town till nearly daylight, and had then crept through back lanes and +alleys and finished their sleep in the gallery of the church among a +chaos of invalided benches. + +At breakfast, Monday morning, Aunt Polly and Mary were very loving to +Tom, and very attentive to his wants. There was an unusual amount of +talk. In the course of it Aunt Polly said: + +"Well, I don't say it wasn't a fine joke, Tom, to keep everybody +suffering 'most a week so you boys had a good time, but it is a pity +you could be so hard-hearted as to let me suffer so. If you could come +over on a log to go to your funeral, you could have come over and give +me a hint some way that you warn't dead, but only run off." + +"Yes, you could have done that, Tom," said Mary; "and I believe you +would if you had thought of it." + +"Would you, Tom?" said Aunt Polly, her face lighting wistfully. "Say, +now, would you, if you'd thought of it?" + +"I--well, I don't know. 'Twould 'a' spoiled everything." + +"Tom, I hoped you loved me that much," said Aunt Polly, with a grieved +tone that discomforted the boy. "It would have been something if you'd +cared enough to THINK of it, even if you didn't DO it." + +"Now, auntie, that ain't any harm," pleaded Mary; "it's only Tom's +giddy way--he is always in such a rush that he never thinks of +anything." + +"More's the pity. Sid would have thought. And Sid would have come and +DONE it, too. Tom, you'll look back, some day, when it's too late, and +wish you'd cared a little more for me when it would have cost you so +little." + +"Now, auntie, you know I do care for you," said Tom. + +"I'd know it better if you acted more like it." + +"I wish now I'd thought," said Tom, with a repentant tone; "but I +dreamt about you, anyway. That's something, ain't it?" + +"It ain't much--a cat does that much--but it's better than nothing. +What did you dream?" + +"Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the +bed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him." + +"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad your dreams could take +even that much trouble about us." + +"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here." + +"Why, she was here! Did you dream any more?" + +"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now." + +"Well, try to recollect--can't you?" + +"Somehow it seems to me that the wind--the wind blowed the--the--" + +"Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow something. Come!" + +Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and then +said: + +"I've got it now! I've got it now! It blowed the candle!" + +"Mercy on us! Go on, Tom--go on!" + +"And it seems to me that you said, 'Why, I believe that that door--'" + +"Go ON, Tom!" + +"Just let me study a moment--just a moment. Oh, yes--you said you +believed the door was open." + +"As I'm sitting here, I did! Didn't I, Mary! Go on!" + +"And then--and then--well I won't be certain, but it seems like as if +you made Sid go and--and--" + +"Well? Well? What did I make him do, Tom? What did I make him do?" + +"You made him--you--Oh, you made him shut it." + +"Well, for the land's sake! I never heard the beat of that in all my +days! Don't tell ME there ain't anything in dreams, any more. Sereny +Harper shall know of this before I'm an hour older. I'd like to see her +get around THIS with her rubbage 'bout superstition. Go on, Tom!" + +"Oh, it's all getting just as bright as day, now. Next you said I +warn't BAD, only mischeevous and harum-scarum, and not any more +responsible than--than--I think it was a colt, or something." + +"And so it was! Well, goodness gracious! Go on, Tom!" + +"And then you began to cry." + +"So I did. So I did. Not the first time, neither. And then--" + +"Then Mrs. Harper she began to cry, and said Joe was just the same, +and she wished she hadn't whipped him for taking cream when she'd +throwed it out her own self--" + +"Tom! The sperrit was upon you! You was a prophesying--that's what you +was doing! Land alive, go on, Tom!" + +"Then Sid he said--he said--" + +"I don't think I said anything," said Sid. + +"Yes you did, Sid," said Mary. + +"Shut your heads and let Tom go on! What did he say, Tom?" + +"He said--I THINK he said he hoped I was better off where I was gone +to, but if I'd been better sometimes--" + +"THERE, d'you hear that! It was his very words!" + +"And you shut him up sharp." + +"I lay I did! There must 'a' been an angel there. There WAS an angel +there, somewheres!" + +"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and +you told about Peter and the Painkiller--" + +"Just as true as I live!" + +"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river for +us, and 'bout having the funeral Sunday, and then you and old Miss +Harper hugged and cried, and she went." + +"It happened just so! It happened just so, as sure as I'm a-sitting in +these very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told it more like if you'd 'a' +seen it! And then what? Go on, Tom!" + +"Then I thought you prayed for me--and I could see you and hear every +word you said. And you went to bed, and I was so sorry that I took and +wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead--we are only off +being pirates,' and put it on the table by the candle; and then you +looked so good, laying there asleep, that I thought I went and leaned +over and kissed you on the lips." + +"Did you, Tom, DID you! I just forgive you everything for that!" And +she seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made him feel like the +guiltiest of villains. + +"It was very kind, even though it was only a--dream," Sid soliloquized +just audibly. + +"Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he +was awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, if +you was ever found again--now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the +good God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's long-suffering +and merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, though +goodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His +blessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's +few enough would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the long +night comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom--take yourselves off--you've +hendered me long enough." + +The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper +and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had better +judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the +house. It was this: "Pretty thin--as long a dream as that, without any +mistakes in it!" + +What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing, +but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that the +public eye was on him. And indeed it was; he tried not to seem to see +the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food +and drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, as +proud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as if he had been the +drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie +into town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been away +at all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They would +have given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and his +glittering notoriety; and Tom would not have parted with either for a +circus. + +At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered +such eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were not +long in becoming insufferably "stuck-up." They began to tell their +adventures to hungry listeners--but they only began; it was not a thing +likely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnish +material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely +puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached. + +Tom decided that he could be independent of Becky Thatcher now. Glory +was sufficient. He would live for glory. Now that he was distinguished, +maybe she would be wanting to "make up." Well, let her--she should see +that he could be as indifferent as some other people. Presently she +arrived. Tom pretended not to see her. He moved away and joined a group +of boys and girls and began to talk. Soon he observed that she was +tripping gayly back and forth with flushed face and dancing eyes, +pretending to be busy chasing schoolmates, and screaming with laughter +when she made a capture; but he noticed that she always made her +captures in his vicinity, and that she seemed to cast a conscious eye +in his direction at such times, too. It gratified all the vicious +vanity that was in him; and so, instead of winning him, it only "set +him up" the more and made him the more diligent to avoid betraying that +he knew she was about. Presently she gave over skylarking, and moved +irresolutely about, sighing once or twice and glancing furtively and +wistfully toward Tom. Then she observed that now Tom was talking more +particularly to Amy Lawrence than to any one else. She felt a sharp +pang and grew disturbed and uneasy at once. She tried to go away, but +her feet were treacherous, and carried her to the group instead. She +said to a girl almost at Tom's elbow--with sham vivacity: + +"Why, Mary Austin! you bad girl, why didn't you come to Sunday-school?" + +"I did come--didn't you see me?" + +"Why, no! Did you? Where did you sit?" + +"I was in Miss Peters' class, where I always go. I saw YOU." + +"Did you? Why, it's funny I didn't see you. I wanted to tell you about +the picnic." + +"Oh, that's jolly. Who's going to give it?" + +"My ma's going to let me have one." + +"Oh, goody; I hope she'll let ME come." + +"Well, she will. The picnic's for me. She'll let anybody come that I +want, and I want you." + +"That's ever so nice. When is it going to be?" + +"By and by. Maybe about vacation." + +"Oh, won't it be fun! You going to have all the girls and boys?" + +"Yes, every one that's friends to me--or wants to be"; and she glanced +ever so furtively at Tom, but he talked right along to Amy Lawrence +about the terrible storm on the island, and how the lightning tore the +great sycamore tree "all to flinders" while he was "standing within +three feet of it." + +"Oh, may I come?" said Grace Miller. + +"Yes." + +"And me?" said Sally Rogers. + +"Yes." + +"And me, too?" said Susy Harper. "And Joe?" + +"Yes." + +And so on, with clapping of joyful hands till all the group had begged +for invitations but Tom and Amy. Then Tom turned coolly away, still +talking, and took Amy with him. Becky's lips trembled and the tears +came to her eyes; she hid these signs with a forced gayety and went on +chattering, but the life had gone out of the picnic, now, and out of +everything else; she got away as soon as she could and hid herself and +had what her sex call "a good cry." Then she sat moody, with wounded +pride, till the bell rang. She roused up, now, with a vindictive cast +in her eye, and gave her plaited tails a shake and said she knew what +SHE'D do. + +At recess Tom continued his flirtation with Amy with jubilant +self-satisfaction. And he kept drifting about to find Becky and lacerate +her with the performance. At last he spied her, but there was a sudden +falling of his mercury. She was sitting cosily on a little bench behind +the schoolhouse looking at a picture-book with Alfred Temple--and so +absorbed were they, and their heads so close together over the book, +that they did not seem to be conscious of anything in the world besides. +Jealousy ran red-hot through Tom's veins. He began to hate himself for +throwing away the chance Becky had offered for a reconciliation. He +called himself a fool, and all the hard names he could think of. He +wanted to cry with vexation. Amy chatted happily along, as they walked, +for her heart was singing, but Tom's tongue had lost its function. He +did not hear what Amy was saying, and whenever she paused expectantly he +could only stammer an awkward assent, which was as often misplaced as +otherwise. He kept drifting to the rear of the schoolhouse, again and +again, to sear his eyeballs with the hateful spectacle there. He could +not help it. And it maddened him to see, as he thought he saw, that +Becky Thatcher never once suspected that he was even in the land of the +living. But she did see, nevertheless; and she knew she was winning her +fight, too, and was glad to see him suffer as she had suffered. + +Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had to +attend to; things that must be done; and time was fleeting. But in +vain--the girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I ever +going to get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to those +things--and she said artlessly that she would be "around" when school +let out. And he hastened away, hating her for it. + +"Any other boy!" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the whole +town but that Saint Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and is +aristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever saw +this town, mister, and I'll lick you again! You just wait till I catch +you out! I'll just take and--" + +And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy +--pummelling the air, and kicking and gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? You +holler 'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!" And so the +imaginary flogging was finished to his satisfaction. + +Tom fled home at noon. His conscience could not endure any more of +Amy's grateful happiness, and his jealousy could bear no more of the +other distress. Becky resumed her picture inspections with Alfred, but +as the minutes dragged along and no Tom came to suffer, her triumph +began to cloud and she lost interest; gravity and absent-mindedness +followed, and then melancholy; two or three times she pricked up her +ear at a footstep, but it was a false hope; no Tom came. At last she +grew entirely miserable and wished she hadn't carried it so far. When +poor Alfred, seeing that he was losing her, he did not know how, kept +exclaiming: "Oh, here's a jolly one! look at this!" she lost patience +at last, and said, "Oh, don't bother me! I don't care for them!" and +burst into tears, and got up and walked away. + +Alfred dropped alongside and was going to try to comfort her, but she +said: + +"Go away and leave me alone, can't you! I hate you!" + +So the boy halted, wondering what he could have done--for she had said +she would look at pictures all through the nooning--and she walked on, +crying. Then Alfred went musing into the deserted schoolhouse. He was +humiliated and angry. He easily guessed his way to the truth--the girl +had simply made a convenience of him to vent her spite upon Tom Sawyer. +He was far from hating Tom the less when this thought occurred to him. +He wished there was some way to get that boy into trouble without much +risk to himself. Tom's spelling-book fell under his eye. Here was his +opportunity. He gratefully opened to the lesson for the afternoon and +poured ink upon the page. + +Becky, glancing in at a window behind him at the moment, saw the act, +and moved on, without discovering herself. She started homeward, now, +intending to find Tom and tell him; Tom would be thankful and their +troubles would be healed. Before she was half way home, however, she +had changed her mind. The thought of Tom's treatment of her when she +was talking about her picnic came scorching back and filled her with +shame. She resolved to let him get whipped on the damaged +spelling-book's account, and to hate him forever, into the bargain. + +CHAPTER XIX + +TOM arrived at home in a dreary mood, and the first thing his aunt +said to him showed him that he had brought his sorrows to an +unpromising market: + +"Tom, I've a notion to skin you alive!" + +"Auntie, what have I done?" + +"Well, you've done enough. Here I go over to Sereny Harper, like an +old softy, expecting I'm going to make her believe all that rubbage +about that dream, when lo and behold you she'd found out from Joe that +you was over here and heard all the talk we had that night. Tom, I +don't know what is to become of a boy that will act like that. It makes +me feel so bad to think you could let me go to Sereny Harper and make +such a fool of myself and never say a word." + +This was a new aspect of the thing. His smartness of the morning had +seemed to Tom a good joke before, and very ingenious. It merely looked +mean and shabby now. He hung his head and could not think of anything +to say for a moment. Then he said: + +"Auntie, I wish I hadn't done it--but I didn't think." + +"Oh, child, you never think. You never think of anything but your own +selfishness. You could think to come all the way over here from +Jackson's Island in the night to laugh at our troubles, and you could +think to fool me with a lie about a dream; but you couldn't ever think +to pity us and save us from sorrow." + +"Auntie, I know now it was mean, but I didn't mean to be mean. I +didn't, honest. And besides, I didn't come over here to laugh at you +that night." + +"What did you come for, then?" + +"It was to tell you not to be uneasy about us, because we hadn't got +drownded." + +"Tom, Tom, I would be the thankfullest soul in this world if I could +believe you ever had as good a thought as that, but you know you never +did--and I know it, Tom." + +"Indeed and 'deed I did, auntie--I wish I may never stir if I didn't." + +"Oh, Tom, don't lie--don't do it. It only makes things a hundred times +worse." + +"It ain't a lie, auntie; it's the truth. I wanted to keep you from +grieving--that was all that made me come." + +"I'd give the whole world to believe that--it would cover up a power +of sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But it +ain't reasonable; because, why didn't you tell me, child?" + +"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just got +all full of the idea of our coming and hiding in the church, and I +couldn't somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in my +pocket and kept mum." + +"What bark?" + +"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now, +you'd waked up when I kissed you--I do, honest." + +The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tenderness +dawned in her eyes. + +"DID you kiss me, Tom?" + +"Why, yes, I did." + +"Are you sure you did, Tom?" + +"Why, yes, I did, auntie--certain sure." + +"What did you kiss me for, Tom?" + +"Because I loved you so, and you laid there moaning and I was so sorry." + +The words sounded like truth. The old lady could not hide a tremor in +her voice when she said: + +"Kiss me again, Tom!--and be off with you to school, now, and don't +bother me any more." + +The moment he was gone, she ran to a closet and got out the ruin of a +jacket which Tom had gone pirating in. Then she stopped, with it in her +hand, and said to herself: + +"No, I don't dare. Poor boy, I reckon he's lied about it--but it's a +blessed, blessed lie, there's such a comfort come from it. I hope the +Lord--I KNOW the Lord will forgive him, because it was such +goodheartedness in him to tell it. But I don't want to find out it's a +lie. I won't look." + +She put the jacket away, and stood by musing a minute. Twice she put +out her hand to take the garment again, and twice she refrained. Once +more she ventured, and this time she fortified herself with the +thought: "It's a good lie--it's a good lie--I won't let it grieve me." +So she sought the jacket pocket. A moment later she was reading Tom's +piece of bark through flowing tears and saying: "I could forgive the +boy, now, if he'd committed a million sins!" + +CHAPTER XX + +THERE was something about Aunt Polly's manner, when she kissed Tom, +that swept away his low spirits and made him lighthearted and happy +again. He started to school and had the luck of coming upon Becky +Thatcher at the head of Meadow Lane. His mood always determined his +manner. Without a moment's hesitation he ran to her and said: + +"I acted mighty mean to-day, Becky, and I'm so sorry. I won't ever, +ever do that way again, as long as ever I live--please make up, won't +you?" + +The girl stopped and looked him scornfully in the face: + +"I'll thank you to keep yourself TO yourself, Mr. Thomas Sawyer. I'll +never speak to you again." + +She tossed her head and passed on. Tom was so stunned that he had not +even presence of mind enough to say "Who cares, Miss Smarty?" until the +right time to say it had gone by. So he said nothing. But he was in a +fine rage, nevertheless. He moped into the schoolyard wishing she were +a boy, and imagining how he would trounce her if she were. He presently +encountered her and delivered a stinging remark as he passed. She +hurled one in return, and the angry breach was complete. It seemed to +Becky, in her hot resentment, that she could hardly wait for school to +"take in," she was so impatient to see Tom flogged for the injured +spelling-book. If she had had any lingering notion of exposing Alfred +Temple, Tom's offensive fling had driven it entirely away. + +Poor girl, she did not know how fast she was nearing trouble herself. +The master, Mr. Dobbins, had reached middle age with an unsatisfied +ambition. The darling of his desires was, to be a doctor, but poverty +had decreed that he should be nothing higher than a village +schoolmaster. Every day he took a mysterious book out of his desk and +absorbed himself in it at times when no classes were reciting. He kept +that book under lock and key. There was not an urchin in school but was +perishing to have a glimpse of it, but the chance never came. Every boy +and girl had a theory about the nature of that book; but no two +theories were alike, and there was no way of getting at the facts in +the case. Now, as Becky was passing by the desk, which stood near the +door, she noticed that the key was in the lock! It was a precious +moment. She glanced around; found herself alone, and the next instant +she had the book in her hands. The title-page--Professor Somebody's +ANATOMY--carried no information to her mind; so she began to turn the +leaves. She came at once upon a handsomely engraved and colored +frontispiece--a human figure, stark naked. At that moment a shadow fell +on the page and Tom Sawyer stepped in at the door and caught a glimpse +of the picture. Becky snatched at the book to close it, and had the +hard luck to tear the pictured page half down the middle. She thrust +the volume into the desk, turned the key, and burst out crying with +shame and vexation. + +"Tom Sawyer, you are just as mean as you can be, to sneak up on a +person and look at what they're looking at." + +"How could I know you was looking at anything?" + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Sawyer; you know you're +going to tell on me, and oh, what shall I do, what shall I do! I'll be +whipped, and I never was whipped in school." + +Then she stamped her little foot and said: + +"BE so mean if you want to! I know something that's going to happen. +You just wait and you'll see! Hateful, hateful, hateful!"--and she +flung out of the house with a new explosion of crying. + +Tom stood still, rather flustered by this onslaught. Presently he said +to himself: + +"What a curious kind of a fool a girl is! Never been licked in school! +Shucks! What's a licking! That's just like a girl--they're so +thin-skinned and chicken-hearted. Well, of course I ain't going to tell +old Dobbins on this little fool, because there's other ways of getting +even on her, that ain't so mean; but what of it? Old Dobbins will ask +who it was tore his book. Nobody'll answer. Then he'll do just the way +he always does--ask first one and then t'other, and when he comes to the +right girl he'll know it, without any telling. Girls' faces always tell +on them. They ain't got any backbone. She'll get licked. Well, it's a +kind of a tight place for Becky Thatcher, because there ain't any way +out of it." Tom conned the thing a moment longer, and then added: "All +right, though; she'd like to see me in just such a fix--let her sweat it +out!" + +Tom joined the mob of skylarking scholars outside. In a few moments +the master arrived and school "took in." Tom did not feel a strong +interest in his studies. Every time he stole a glance at the girls' +side of the room Becky's face troubled him. Considering all things, he +did not want to pity her, and yet it was all he could do to help it. He +could get up no exultation that was really worthy the name. Presently +the spelling-book discovery was made, and Tom's mind was entirely full +of his own matters for a while after that. Becky roused up from her +lethargy of distress and showed good interest in the proceedings. She +did not expect that Tom could get out of his trouble by denying that he +spilt the ink on the book himself; and she was right. The denial only +seemed to make the thing worse for Tom. Becky supposed she would be +glad of that, and she tried to believe she was glad of it, but she +found she was not certain. When the worst came to the worst, she had an +impulse to get up and tell on Alfred Temple, but she made an effort and +forced herself to keep still--because, said she to herself, "he'll tell +about me tearing the picture sure. I wouldn't say a word, not to save +his life!" + +Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at all +broken-hearted, for he thought it was possible that he had unknowingly +upset the ink on the spelling-book himself, in some skylarking bout--he +had denied it for form's sake and because it was custom, and had stuck +to the denial from principle. + +A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the air +was drowsy with the hum of study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened +himself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book, +but seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of the +pupils glanced up languidly, but there were two among them that watched +his movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absently +for a while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read! +Tom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and helpless rabbit +look as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgot +his quarrel with her. Quick--something must be done! done in a flash, +too! But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention. +Good!--he had an inspiration! He would run and snatch the book, spring +through the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one little +instant, and the chance was lost--the master opened the volume. If Tom +only had the wasted opportunity back again! Too late. There was no help +for Becky now, he said. The next moment the master faced the school. +Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it which smote even +the innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten +--the master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke: "Who tore this book?" + +There was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillness +continued; the master searched face after face for signs of guilt. + +"Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?" + +A denial. Another pause. + +"Joseph Harper, did you?" + +Another denial. Tom's uneasiness grew more and more intense under the +slow torture of these proceedings. The master scanned the ranks of +boys--considered a while, then turned to the girls: + +"Amy Lawrence?" + +A shake of the head. + +"Gracie Miller?" + +The same sign. + +"Susan Harper, did you do this?" + +Another negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling +from head to foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of +the situation. + +"Rebecca Thatcher" [Tom glanced at her face--it was white with terror] +--"did you tear--no, look me in the face" [her hands rose in appeal] +--"did you tear this book?" + +A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his +feet and shouted--"I done it!" + +The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a +moment, to gather his dismembered faculties; and when he stepped +forward to go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the +adoration that shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed pay +enough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the splendor of his own +act, he took without an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. +Dobbins had ever administered; and also received with indifference the +added cruelty of a command to remain two hours after school should be +dismissed--for he knew who would wait for him outside till his +captivity was done, and not count the tedious time as loss, either. + +Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple; +for with shame and repentance Becky had told him all, not forgetting +her own treachery; but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, +soon, to pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky's +latest words lingering dreamily in his ear-- + +"Tom, how COULD you be so noble!" + +CHAPTER XXI + +VACATION was approaching. The schoolmaster, always severe, grew +severer and more exacting than ever, for he wanted the school to make a +good showing on "Examination" day. His rod and his ferule were seldom +idle now--at least among the smaller pupils. Only the biggest boys, and +young ladies of eighteen and twenty, escaped lashing. Mr. Dobbins' +lashings were very vigorous ones, too; for although he carried, under +his wig, a perfectly bald and shiny head, he had only reached middle +age, and there was no sign of feebleness in his muscle. As the great +day approached, all the tyranny that was in him came to the surface; he +seemed to take a vindictive pleasure in punishing the least +shortcomings. The consequence was, that the smaller boys spent their +days in terror and suffering and their nights in plotting revenge. They +threw away no opportunity to do the master a mischief. But he kept +ahead all the time. The retribution that followed every vengeful +success was so sweeping and majestic that the boys always retired from +the field badly worsted. At last they conspired together and hit upon a +plan that promised a dazzling victory. They swore in the sign-painter's +boy, told him the scheme, and asked his help. He had his own reasons +for being delighted, for the master boarded in his father's family and +had given the boy ample cause to hate him. The master's wife would go +on a visit to the country in a few days, and there would be nothing to +interfere with the plan; the master always prepared himself for great +occasions by getting pretty well fuddled, and the sign-painter's boy +said that when the dominie had reached the proper condition on +Examination Evening he would "manage the thing" while he napped in his +chair; then he would have him awakened at the right time and hurried +away to school. + +In the fulness of time the interesting occasion arrived. At eight in +the evening the schoolhouse was brilliantly lighted, and adorned with +wreaths and festoons of foliage and flowers. The master sat throned in +his great chair upon a raised platform, with his blackboard behind him. +He was looking tolerably mellow. Three rows of benches on each side and +six rows in front of him were occupied by the dignitaries of the town +and by the parents of the pupils. To his left, back of the rows of +citizens, was a spacious temporary platform upon which were seated the +scholars who were to take part in the exercises of the evening; rows of +small boys, washed and dressed to an intolerable state of discomfort; +rows of gawky big boys; snowbanks of girls and young ladies clad in +lawn and muslin and conspicuously conscious of their bare arms, their +grandmothers' ancient trinkets, their bits of pink and blue ribbon and +the flowers in their hair. All the rest of the house was filled with +non-participating scholars. + +The exercises began. A very little boy stood up and sheepishly +recited, "You'd scarce expect one of my age to speak in public on the +stage," etc.--accompanying himself with the painfully exact and +spasmodic gestures which a machine might have used--supposing the +machine to be a trifle out of order. But he got through safely, though +cruelly scared, and got a fine round of applause when he made his +manufactured bow and retired. + +A little shamefaced girl lisped, "Mary had a little lamb," etc., +performed a compassion-inspiring curtsy, got her meed of applause, and +sat down flushed and happy. + +Tom Sawyer stepped forward with conceited confidence and soared into +the unquenchable and indestructible "Give me liberty or give me death" +speech, with fine fury and frantic gesticulation, and broke down in the +middle of it. A ghastly stage-fright seized him, his legs quaked under +him and he was like to choke. True, he had the manifest sympathy of the +house but he had the house's silence, too, which was even worse than +its sympathy. The master frowned, and this completed the disaster. Tom +struggled awhile and then retired, utterly defeated. There was a weak +attempt at applause, but it died early. + +"The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck" followed; also "The Assyrian Came +Down," and other declamatory gems. Then there were reading exercises, +and a spelling fight. The meagre Latin class recited with honor. The +prime feature of the evening was in order, now--original "compositions" +by the young ladies. Each in her turn stepped forward to the edge of +the platform, cleared her throat, held up her manuscript (tied with +dainty ribbon), and proceeded to read, with labored attention to +"expression" and punctuation. The themes were the same that had been +illuminated upon similar occasions by their mothers before them, their +grandmothers, and doubtless all their ancestors in the female line +clear back to the Crusades. "Friendship" was one; "Memories of Other +Days"; "Religion in History"; "Dream Land"; "The Advantages of +Culture"; "Forms of Political Government Compared and Contrasted"; +"Melancholy"; "Filial Love"; "Heart Longings," etc., etc. + +A prevalent feature in these compositions was a nursed and petted +melancholy; another was a wasteful and opulent gush of "fine language"; +another was a tendency to lug in by the ears particularly prized words +and phrases until they were worn entirely out; and a peculiarity that +conspicuously marked and marred them was the inveterate and intolerable +sermon that wagged its crippled tail at the end of each and every one +of them. No matter what the subject might be, a brain-racking effort +was made to squirm it into some aspect or other that the moral and +religious mind could contemplate with edification. The glaring +insincerity of these sermons was not sufficient to compass the +banishment of the fashion from the schools, and it is not sufficient +to-day; it never will be sufficient while the world stands, perhaps. +There is no school in all our land where the young ladies do not feel +obliged to close their compositions with a sermon; and you will find +that the sermon of the most frivolous and the least religious girl in +the school is always the longest and the most relentlessly pious. But +enough of this. Homely truth is unpalatable. + +Let us return to the "Examination." The first composition that was +read was one entitled "Is this, then, Life?" Perhaps the reader can +endure an extract from it: + + "In the common walks of life, with what delightful + emotions does the youthful mind look forward to some + anticipated scene of festivity! Imagination is busy + sketching rose-tinted pictures of joy. In fancy, the + voluptuous votary of fashion sees herself amid the + festive throng, 'the observed of all observers.' Her + graceful form, arrayed in snowy robes, is whirling + through the mazes of the joyous dance; her eye is + brightest, her step is lightest in the gay assembly. + + "In such delicious fancies time quickly glides by, + and the welcome hour arrives for her entrance into + the Elysian world, of which she has had such bright + dreams. How fairy-like does everything appear to + her enchanted vision! Each new scene is more charming + than the last. But after a while she finds that + beneath this goodly exterior, all is vanity, the + flattery which once charmed her soul, now grates + harshly upon her ear; the ball-room has lost its + charms; and with wasted health and imbittered heart, + she turns away with the conviction that earthly + pleasures cannot satisfy the longings of the soul!" + +And so forth and so on. There was a buzz of gratification from time to +time during the reading, accompanied by whispered ejaculations of "How +sweet!" "How eloquent!" "So true!" etc., and after the thing had closed +with a peculiarly afflicting sermon the applause was enthusiastic. + +Then arose a slim, melancholy girl, whose face had the "interesting" +paleness that comes of pills and indigestion, and read a "poem." Two +stanzas of it will do: + + "A MISSOURI MAIDEN'S FAREWELL TO ALABAMA + + "Alabama, good-bye! I love thee well! + But yet for a while do I leave thee now! + Sad, yes, sad thoughts of thee my heart doth swell, + And burning recollections throng my brow! + For I have wandered through thy flowery woods; + Have roamed and read near Tallapoosa's stream; + Have listened to Tallassee's warring floods, + And wooed on Coosa's side Aurora's beam. + + "Yet shame I not to bear an o'er-full heart, + Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes; + 'Tis from no stranger land I now must part, + 'Tis to no strangers left I yield these sighs. + Welcome and home were mine within this State, + Whose vales I leave--whose spires fade fast from me + And cold must be mine eyes, and heart, and tete, + When, dear Alabama! they turn cold on thee!" + +There were very few there who knew what "tete" meant, but the poem was +very satisfactory, nevertheless. + +Next appeared a dark-complexioned, black-eyed, black-haired young +lady, who paused an impressive moment, assumed a tragic expression, and +began to read in a measured, solemn tone: + + "A VISION + + "Dark and tempestuous was night. Around the + throne on high not a single star quivered; but + the deep intonations of the heavy thunder + constantly vibrated upon the ear; whilst the + terrific lightning revelled in angry mood + through the cloudy chambers of heaven, seeming + to scorn the power exerted over its terror by + the illustrious Franklin! Even the boisterous + winds unanimously came forth from their mystic + homes, and blustered about as if to enhance by + their aid the wildness of the scene. + + "At such a time, so dark, so dreary, for human + sympathy my very spirit sighed; but instead thereof, + + "'My dearest friend, my counsellor, my comforter + and guide--My joy in grief, my second bliss + in joy,' came to my side. She moved like one of + those bright beings pictured in the sunny walks + of fancy's Eden by the romantic and young, a + queen of beauty unadorned save by her own + transcendent loveliness. So soft was her step, it + failed to make even a sound, and but for the + magical thrill imparted by her genial touch, as + other unobtrusive beauties, she would have glided + away un-perceived--unsought. A strange sadness + rested upon her features, like icy tears upon + the robe of December, as she pointed to the + contending elements without, and bade me contemplate + the two beings presented." + +This nightmare occupied some ten pages of manuscript and wound up with +a sermon so destructive of all hope to non-Presbyterians that it took +the first prize. This composition was considered to be the very finest +effort of the evening. The mayor of the village, in delivering the +prize to the author of it, made a warm speech in which he said that it +was by far the most "eloquent" thing he had ever listened to, and that +Daniel Webster himself might well be proud of it. + +It may be remarked, in passing, that the number of compositions in +which the word "beauteous" was over-fondled, and human experience +referred to as "life's page," was up to the usual average. + +Now the master, mellow almost to the verge of geniality, put his chair +aside, turned his back to the audience, and began to draw a map of +America on the blackboard, to exercise the geography class upon. But he +made a sad business of it with his unsteady hand, and a smothered +titter rippled over the house. He knew what the matter was, and set +himself to right it. He sponged out lines and remade them; but he only +distorted them more than ever, and the tittering was more pronounced. +He threw his entire attention upon his work, now, as if determined not +to be put down by the mirth. He felt that all eyes were fastened upon +him; he imagined he was succeeding, and yet the tittering continued; it +even manifestly increased. And well it might. There was a garret above, +pierced with a scuttle over his head; and down through this scuttle +came a cat, suspended around the haunches by a string; she had a rag +tied about her head and jaws to keep her from mewing; as she slowly +descended she curved upward and clawed at the string, she swung +downward and clawed at the intangible air. The tittering rose higher +and higher--the cat was within six inches of the absorbed teacher's +head--down, down, a little lower, and she grabbed his wig with her +desperate claws, clung to it, and was snatched up into the garret in an +instant with her trophy still in her possession! And how the light did +blaze abroad from the master's bald pate--for the sign-painter's boy +had GILDED it! + +That broke up the meeting. The boys were avenged. Vacation had come. + + NOTE:--The pretended "compositions" quoted in + this chapter are taken without alteration from a + volume entitled "Prose and Poetry, by a Western + Lady"--but they are exactly and precisely after + the schoolgirl pattern, and hence are much + happier than any mere imitations could be. + +CHAPTER XXII + +TOM joined the new order of Cadets of Temperance, being attracted by +the showy character of their "regalia." He promised to abstain from +smoking, chewing, and profanity as long as he remained a member. Now he +found out a new thing--namely, that to promise not to do a thing is the +surest way in the world to make a body want to go and do that very +thing. Tom soon found himself tormented with a desire to drink and +swear; the desire grew to be so intense that nothing but the hope of a +chance to display himself in his red sash kept him from withdrawing +from the order. Fourth of July was coming; but he soon gave that up +--gave it up before he had worn his shackles over forty-eight hours--and +fixed his hopes upon old Judge Frazer, justice of the peace, who was +apparently on his deathbed and would have a big public funeral, since +he was so high an official. During three days Tom was deeply concerned +about the Judge's condition and hungry for news of it. Sometimes his +hopes ran high--so high that he would venture to get out his regalia +and practise before the looking-glass. But the Judge had a most +discouraging way of fluctuating. At last he was pronounced upon the +mend--and then convalescent. Tom was disgusted; and felt a sense of +injury, too. He handed in his resignation at once--and that night the +Judge suffered a relapse and died. Tom resolved that he would never +trust a man like that again. + +The funeral was a fine thing. The Cadets paraded in a style calculated +to kill the late member with envy. Tom was a free boy again, however +--there was something in that. He could drink and swear, now--but found +to his surprise that he did not want to. The simple fact that he could, +took the desire away, and the charm of it. + +Tom presently wondered to find that his coveted vacation was beginning +to hang a little heavily on his hands. + +He attempted a diary--but nothing happened during three days, and so +he abandoned it. + +The first of all the negro minstrel shows came to town, and made a +sensation. Tom and Joe Harper got up a band of performers and were +happy for two days. + +Even the Glorious Fourth was in some sense a failure, for it rained +hard, there was no procession in consequence, and the greatest man in +the world (as Tom supposed), Mr. Benton, an actual United States +Senator, proved an overwhelming disappointment--for he was not +twenty-five feet high, nor even anywhere in the neighborhood of it. + +A circus came. The boys played circus for three days afterward in +tents made of rag carpeting--admission, three pins for boys, two for +girls--and then circusing was abandoned. + +A phrenologist and a mesmerizer came--and went again and left the +village duller and drearier than ever. + +There were some boys-and-girls' parties, but they were so few and so +delightful that they only made the aching voids between ache the harder. + +Becky Thatcher was gone to her Constantinople home to stay with her +parents during vacation--so there was no bright side to life anywhere. + +The dreadful secret of the murder was a chronic misery. It was a very +cancer for permanency and pain. + +Then came the measles. + +During two long weeks Tom lay a prisoner, dead to the world and its +happenings. He was very ill, he was interested in nothing. When he got +upon his feet at last and moved feebly down-town, a melancholy change +had come over everything and every creature. There had been a +"revival," and everybody had "got religion," not only the adults, but +even the boys and girls. Tom went about, hoping against hope for the +sight of one blessed sinful face, but disappointment crossed him +everywhere. He found Joe Harper studying a Testament, and turned sadly +away from the depressing spectacle. He sought Ben Rogers, and found him +visiting the poor with a basket of tracts. He hunted up Jim Hollis, who +called his attention to the precious blessing of his late measles as a +warning. Every boy he encountered added another ton to his depression; +and when, in desperation, he flew for refuge at last to the bosom of +Huckleberry Finn and was received with a Scriptural quotation, his +heart broke and he crept home and to bed realizing that he alone of all +the town was lost, forever and forever. + +And that night there came on a terrific storm, with driving rain, +awful claps of thunder and blinding sheets of lightning. He covered his +head with the bedclothes and waited in a horror of suspense for his +doom; for he had not the shadow of a doubt that all this hubbub was +about him. He believed he had taxed the forbearance of the powers above +to the extremity of endurance and that this was the result. It might +have seemed to him a waste of pomp and ammunition to kill a bug with a +battery of artillery, but there seemed nothing incongruous about the +getting up such an expensive thunderstorm as this to knock the turf +from under an insect like himself. + +By and by the tempest spent itself and died without accomplishing its +object. The boy's first impulse was to be grateful, and reform. His +second was to wait--for there might not be any more storms. + +The next day the doctors were back; Tom had relapsed. The three weeks +he spent on his back this time seemed an entire age. When he got abroad +at last he was hardly grateful that he had been spared, remembering how +lonely was his estate, how companionless and forlorn he was. He drifted +listlessly down the street and found Jim Hollis acting as judge in a +juvenile court that was trying a cat for murder, in the presence of her +victim, a bird. He found Joe Harper and Huck Finn up an alley eating a +stolen melon. Poor lads! they--like Tom--had suffered a relapse. + +CHAPTER XXIII + +AT last the sleepy atmosphere was stirred--and vigorously: the murder +trial came on in the court. It became the absorbing topic of village +talk immediately. Tom could not get away from it. Every reference to +the murder sent a shudder to his heart, for his troubled conscience and +fears almost persuaded him that these remarks were put forth in his +hearing as "feelers"; he did not see how he could be suspected of +knowing anything about the murder, but still he could not be +comfortable in the midst of this gossip. It kept him in a cold shiver +all the time. He took Huck to a lonely place to have a talk with him. +It would be some relief to unseal his tongue for a little while; to +divide his burden of distress with another sufferer. Moreover, he +wanted to assure himself that Huck had remained discreet. + +"Huck, have you ever told anybody about--that?" + +"'Bout what?" + +"You know what." + +"Oh--'course I haven't." + +"Never a word?" + +"Never a solitary word, so help me. What makes you ask?" + +"Well, I was afeard." + +"Why, Tom Sawyer, we wouldn't be alive two days if that got found out. +YOU know that." + +Tom felt more comfortable. After a pause: + +"Huck, they couldn't anybody get you to tell, could they?" + +"Get me to tell? Why, if I wanted that half-breed devil to drownd me +they could get me to tell. They ain't no different way." + +"Well, that's all right, then. I reckon we're safe as long as we keep +mum. But let's swear again, anyway. It's more surer." + +"I'm agreed." + +So they swore again with dread solemnities. + +"What is the talk around, Huck? I've heard a power of it." + +"Talk? Well, it's just Muff Potter, Muff Potter, Muff Potter all the +time. It keeps me in a sweat, constant, so's I want to hide som'ers." + +"That's just the same way they go on round me. I reckon he's a goner. +Don't you feel sorry for him, sometimes?" + +"Most always--most always. He ain't no account; but then he hain't +ever done anything to hurt anybody. Just fishes a little, to get money +to get drunk on--and loafs around considerable; but lord, we all do +that--leastways most of us--preachers and such like. But he's kind of +good--he give me half a fish, once, when there warn't enough for two; +and lots of times he's kind of stood by me when I was out of luck." + +"Well, he's mended kites for me, Huck, and knitted hooks on to my +line. I wish we could get him out of there." + +"My! we couldn't get him out, Tom. And besides, 'twouldn't do any +good; they'd ketch him again." + +"Yes--so they would. But I hate to hear 'em abuse him so like the +dickens when he never done--that." + +"I do too, Tom. Lord, I hear 'em say he's the bloodiest looking +villain in this country, and they wonder he wasn't ever hung before." + +"Yes, they talk like that, all the time. I've heard 'em say that if he +was to get free they'd lynch him." + +"And they'd do it, too." + +The boys had a long talk, but it brought them little comfort. As the +twilight drew on, they found themselves hanging about the neighborhood +of the little isolated jail, perhaps with an undefined hope that +something would happen that might clear away their difficulties. But +nothing happened; there seemed to be no angels or fairies interested in +this luckless captive. + +The boys did as they had often done before--went to the cell grating +and gave Potter some tobacco and matches. He was on the ground floor +and there were no guards. + +His gratitude for their gifts had always smote their consciences +before--it cut deeper than ever, this time. They felt cowardly and +treacherous to the last degree when Potter said: + +"You've been mighty good to me, boys--better'n anybody else in this +town. And I don't forget it, I don't. Often I says to myself, says I, +'I used to mend all the boys' kites and things, and show 'em where the +good fishin' places was, and befriend 'em what I could, and now they've +all forgot old Muff when he's in trouble; but Tom don't, and Huck +don't--THEY don't forget him, says I, 'and I don't forget them.' Well, +boys, I done an awful thing--drunk and crazy at the time--that's the +only way I account for it--and now I got to swing for it, and it's +right. Right, and BEST, too, I reckon--hope so, anyway. Well, we won't +talk about that. I don't want to make YOU feel bad; you've befriended +me. But what I want to say, is, don't YOU ever get drunk--then you won't +ever get here. Stand a litter furder west--so--that's it; it's a prime +comfort to see faces that's friendly when a body's in such a muck of +trouble, and there don't none come here but yourn. Good friendly +faces--good friendly faces. Git up on one another's backs and let me +touch 'em. That's it. Shake hands--yourn'll come through the bars, but +mine's too big. Little hands, and weak--but they've helped Muff Potter +a power, and they'd help him more if they could." + +Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full of +horrors. The next day and the day after, he hung about the court-room, +drawn by an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himself +to stay out. Huck was having the same experience. They studiously +avoided each other. Each wandered away, from time to time, but the same +dismal fascination always brought them back presently. Tom kept his +ears open when idlers sauntered out of the court-room, but invariably +heard distressing news--the toils were closing more and more +relentlessly around poor Potter. At the end of the second day the +village talk was to the effect that Injun Joe's evidence stood firm and +unshaken, and that there was not the slightest question as to what the +jury's verdict would be. + +Tom was out late, that night, and came to bed through the window. He +was in a tremendous state of excitement. It was hours before he got to +sleep. All the village flocked to the court-house the next morning, for +this was to be the great day. Both sexes were about equally represented +in the packed audience. After a long wait the jury filed in and took +their places; shortly afterward, Potter, pale and haggard, timid and +hopeless, was brought in, with chains upon him, and seated where all +the curious eyes could stare at him; no less conspicuous was Injun Joe, +stolid as ever. There was another pause, and then the judge arrived and +the sheriff proclaimed the opening of the court. The usual whisperings +among the lawyers and gathering together of papers followed. These +details and accompanying delays worked up an atmosphere of preparation +that was as impressive as it was fascinating. + +Now a witness was called who testified that he found Muff Potter +washing in the brook, at an early hour of the morning that the murder +was discovered, and that he immediately sneaked away. After some +further questioning, counsel for the prosecution said: + +"Take the witness." + +The prisoner raised his eyes for a moment, but dropped them again when +his own counsel said: + +"I have no questions to ask him." + +The next witness proved the finding of the knife near the corpse. +Counsel for the prosecution said: + +"Take the witness." + +"I have no questions to ask him," Potter's lawyer replied. + +A third witness swore he had often seen the knife in Potter's +possession. + +"Take the witness." + +Counsel for Potter declined to question him. The faces of the audience +began to betray annoyance. Did this attorney mean to throw away his +client's life without an effort? + +Several witnesses deposed concerning Potter's guilty behavior when +brought to the scene of the murder. They were allowed to leave the +stand without being cross-questioned. + +Every detail of the damaging circumstances that occurred in the +graveyard upon that morning which all present remembered so well was +brought out by credible witnesses, but none of them were cross-examined +by Potter's lawyer. The perplexity and dissatisfaction of the house +expressed itself in murmurs and provoked a reproof from the bench. +Counsel for the prosecution now said: + +"By the oaths of citizens whose simple word is above suspicion, we +have fastened this awful crime, beyond all possibility of question, +upon the unhappy prisoner at the bar. We rest our case here." + +A groan escaped from poor Potter, and he put his face in his hands and +rocked his body softly to and fro, while a painful silence reigned in +the court-room. Many men were moved, and many women's compassion +testified itself in tears. Counsel for the defence rose and said: + +"Your honor, in our remarks at the opening of this trial, we +foreshadowed our purpose to prove that our client did this fearful deed +while under the influence of a blind and irresponsible delirium +produced by drink. We have changed our mind. We shall not offer that +plea." [Then to the clerk:] "Call Thomas Sawyer!" + +A puzzled amazement awoke in every face in the house, not even +excepting Potter's. Every eye fastened itself with wondering interest +upon Tom as he rose and took his place upon the stand. The boy looked +wild enough, for he was badly scared. The oath was administered. + +"Thomas Sawyer, where were you on the seventeenth of June, about the +hour of midnight?" + +Tom glanced at Injun Joe's iron face and his tongue failed him. The +audience listened breathless, but the words refused to come. After a +few moments, however, the boy got a little of his strength back, and +managed to put enough of it into his voice to make part of the house +hear: + +"In the graveyard!" + +"A little bit louder, please. Don't be afraid. You were--" + +"In the graveyard." + +A contemptuous smile flitted across Injun Joe's face. + +"Were you anywhere near Horse Williams' grave?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Speak up--just a trifle louder. How near were you?" + +"Near as I am to you." + +"Were you hidden, or not?" + +"I was hid." + +"Where?" + +"Behind the elms that's on the edge of the grave." + +Injun Joe gave a barely perceptible start. + +"Any one with you?" + +"Yes, sir. I went there with--" + +"Wait--wait a moment. Never mind mentioning your companion's name. We +will produce him at the proper time. Did you carry anything there with +you." + +Tom hesitated and looked confused. + +"Speak out, my boy--don't be diffident. The truth is always +respectable. What did you take there?" + +"Only a--a--dead cat." + +There was a ripple of mirth, which the court checked. + +"We will produce the skeleton of that cat. Now, my boy, tell us +everything that occurred--tell it in your own way--don't skip anything, +and don't be afraid." + +Tom began--hesitatingly at first, but as he warmed to his subject his +words flowed more and more easily; in a little while every sound ceased +but his own voice; every eye fixed itself upon him; with parted lips +and bated breath the audience hung upon his words, taking no note of +time, rapt in the ghastly fascinations of the tale. The strain upon +pent emotion reached its climax when the boy said: + +"--and as the doctor fetched the board around and Muff Potter fell, +Injun Joe jumped with the knife and--" + +Crash! Quick as lightning the half-breed sprang for a window, tore his +way through all opposers, and was gone! + +CHAPTER XXIV + +TOM was a glittering hero once more--the pet of the old, the envy of +the young. His name even went into immortal print, for the village +paper magnified him. There were some that believed he would be +President, yet, if he escaped hanging. + +As usual, the fickle, unreasoning world took Muff Potter to its bosom +and fondled him as lavishly as it had abused him before. But that sort +of conduct is to the world's credit; therefore it is not well to find +fault with it. + +Tom's days were days of splendor and exultation to him, but his nights +were seasons of horror. Injun Joe infested all his dreams, and always +with doom in his eye. Hardly any temptation could persuade the boy to +stir abroad after nightfall. Poor Huck was in the same state of +wretchedness and terror, for Tom had told the whole story to the lawyer +the night before the great day of the trial, and Huck was sore afraid +that his share in the business might leak out, yet, notwithstanding +Injun Joe's flight had saved him the suffering of testifying in court. +The poor fellow had got the attorney to promise secrecy, but what of +that? Since Tom's harassed conscience had managed to drive him to the +lawyer's house by night and wring a dread tale from lips that had been +sealed with the dismalest and most formidable of oaths, Huck's +confidence in the human race was well-nigh obliterated. + +Daily Muff Potter's gratitude made Tom glad he had spoken; but nightly +he wished he had sealed up his tongue. + +Half the time Tom was afraid Injun Joe would never be captured; the +other half he was afraid he would be. He felt sure he never could draw +a safe breath again until that man was dead and he had seen the corpse. + +Rewards had been offered, the country had been scoured, but no Injun +Joe was found. One of those omniscient and awe-inspiring marvels, a +detective, came up from St. Louis, moused around, shook his head, +looked wise, and made that sort of astounding success which members of +that craft usually achieve. That is to say, he "found a clew." But you +can't hang a "clew" for murder, and so after that detective had got +through and gone home, Tom felt just as insecure as he was before. + +The slow days drifted on, and each left behind it a slightly lightened +weight of apprehension. + +CHAPTER XXV + +THERE comes a time in every rightly-constructed boy's life when he has +a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. This +desire suddenly came upon Tom one day. He sallied out to find Joe +Harper, but failed of success. Next he sought Ben Rogers; he had gone +fishing. Presently he stumbled upon Huck Finn the Red-Handed. Huck +would answer. Tom took him to a private place and opened the matter to +him confidentially. Huck was willing. Huck was always willing to take a +hand in any enterprise that offered entertainment and required no +capital, for he had a troublesome superabundance of that sort of time +which is not money. "Where'll we dig?" said Huck. + +"Oh, most anywhere." + +"Why, is it hid all around?" + +"No, indeed it ain't. It's hid in mighty particular places, Huck +--sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the end of a +limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but +mostly under the floor in ha'nted houses." + +"Who hides it?" + +"Why, robbers, of course--who'd you reckon? Sunday-school +sup'rintendents?" + +"I don't know. If 'twas mine I wouldn't hide it; I'd spend it and have +a good time." + +"So would I. But robbers don't do that way. They always hide it and +leave it there." + +"Don't they come after it any more?" + +"No, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks, or +else they die. Anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by +and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the +marks--a paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's +mostly signs and hy'roglyphics." + +"HyroQwhich?" + +"Hy'roglyphics--pictures and things, you know, that don't seem to mean +anything." + +"Have you got one of them papers, Tom?" + +"No." + +"Well then, how you going to find the marks?" + +"I don't want any marks. They always bury it under a ha'nted house or +on an island, or under a dead tree that's got one limb sticking out. +Well, we've tried Jackson's Island a little, and we can try it again +some time; and there's the old ha'nted house up the Still-House branch, +and there's lots of dead-limb trees--dead loads of 'em." + +"Is it under all of them?" + +"How you talk! No!" + +"Then how you going to know which one to go for?" + +"Go for all of 'em!" + +"Why, Tom, it'll take all summer." + +"Well, what of that? Suppose you find a brass pot with a hundred +dollars in it, all rusty and gray, or rotten chest full of di'monds. +How's that?" + +Huck's eyes glowed. + +"That's bully. Plenty bully enough for me. Just you gimme the hundred +dollars and I don't want no di'monds." + +"All right. But I bet you I ain't going to throw off on di'monds. Some +of 'em's worth twenty dollars apiece--there ain't any, hardly, but's +worth six bits or a dollar." + +"No! Is that so?" + +"Cert'nly--anybody'll tell you so. Hain't you ever seen one, Huck?" + +"Not as I remember." + +"Oh, kings have slathers of them." + +"Well, I don' know no kings, Tom." + +"I reckon you don't. But if you was to go to Europe you'd see a raft +of 'em hopping around." + +"Do they hop?" + +"Hop?--your granny! No!" + +"Well, what did you say they did, for?" + +"Shucks, I only meant you'd SEE 'em--not hopping, of course--what do +they want to hop for?--but I mean you'd just see 'em--scattered around, +you know, in a kind of a general way. Like that old humpbacked Richard." + +"Richard? What's his other name?" + +"He didn't have any other name. Kings don't have any but a given name." + +"No?" + +"But they don't." + +"Well, if they like it, Tom, all right; but I don't want to be a king +and have only just a given name, like a nigger. But say--where you +going to dig first?" + +"Well, I don't know. S'pose we tackle that old dead-limb tree on the +hill t'other side of Still-House branch?" + +"I'm agreed." + +So they got a crippled pick and a shovel, and set out on their +three-mile tramp. They arrived hot and panting, and threw themselves +down in the shade of a neighboring elm to rest and have a smoke. + +"I like this," said Tom. + +"So do I." + +"Say, Huck, if we find a treasure here, what you going to do with your +share?" + +"Well, I'll have pie and a glass of soda every day, and I'll go to +every circus that comes along. I bet I'll have a gay time." + +"Well, ain't you going to save any of it?" + +"Save it? What for?" + +"Why, so as to have something to live on, by and by." + +"Oh, that ain't any use. Pap would come back to thish-yer town some +day and get his claws on it if I didn't hurry up, and I tell you he'd +clean it out pretty quick. What you going to do with yourn, Tom?" + +"I'm going to buy a new drum, and a sure-'nough sword, and a red +necktie and a bull pup, and get married." + +"Married!" + +"That's it." + +"Tom, you--why, you ain't in your right mind." + +"Wait--you'll see." + +"Well, that's the foolishest thing you could do. Look at pap and my +mother. Fight! Why, they used to fight all the time. I remember, mighty +well." + +"That ain't anything. The girl I'm going to marry won't fight." + +"Tom, I reckon they're all alike. They'll all comb a body. Now you +better think 'bout this awhile. I tell you you better. What's the name +of the gal?" + +"It ain't a gal at all--it's a girl." + +"It's all the same, I reckon; some says gal, some says girl--both's +right, like enough. Anyway, what's her name, Tom?" + +"I'll tell you some time--not now." + +"All right--that'll do. Only if you get married I'll be more lonesomer +than ever." + +"No you won't. You'll come and live with me. Now stir out of this and +we'll go to digging." + +They worked and sweated for half an hour. No result. They toiled +another half-hour. Still no result. Huck said: + +"Do they always bury it as deep as this?" + +"Sometimes--not always. Not generally. I reckon we haven't got the +right place." + +So they chose a new spot and began again. The labor dragged a little, +but still they made progress. They pegged away in silence for some +time. Finally Huck leaned on his shovel, swabbed the beaded drops from +his brow with his sleeve, and said: + +"Where you going to dig next, after we get this one?" + +"I reckon maybe we'll tackle the old tree that's over yonder on +Cardiff Hill back of the widow's." + +"I reckon that'll be a good one. But won't the widow take it away from +us, Tom? It's on her land." + +"SHE take it away! Maybe she'd like to try it once. Whoever finds one +of these hid treasures, it belongs to him. It don't make any difference +whose land it's on." + +That was satisfactory. The work went on. By and by Huck said: + +"Blame it, we must be in the wrong place again. What do you think?" + +"It is mighty curious, Huck. I don't understand it. Sometimes witches +interfere. I reckon maybe that's what's the trouble now." + +"Shucks! Witches ain't got no power in the daytime." + +"Well, that's so. I didn't think of that. Oh, I know what the matter +is! What a blamed lot of fools we are! You got to find out where the +shadow of the limb falls at midnight, and that's where you dig!" + +"Then consound it, we've fooled away all this work for nothing. Now +hang it all, we got to come back in the night. It's an awful long way. +Can you get out?" + +"I bet I will. We've got to do it to-night, too, because if somebody +sees these holes they'll know in a minute what's here and they'll go +for it." + +"Well, I'll come around and maow to-night." + +"All right. Let's hide the tools in the bushes." + +The boys were there that night, about the appointed time. They sat in +the shadow waiting. It was a lonely place, and an hour made solemn by +old traditions. Spirits whispered in the rustling leaves, ghosts lurked +in the murky nooks, the deep baying of a hound floated up out of the +distance, an owl answered with his sepulchral note. The boys were +subdued by these solemnities, and talked little. By and by they judged +that twelve had come; they marked where the shadow fell, and began to +dig. Their hopes commenced to rise. Their interest grew stronger, and +their industry kept pace with it. The hole deepened and still deepened, +but every time their hearts jumped to hear the pick strike upon +something, they only suffered a new disappointment. It was only a stone +or a chunk. At last Tom said: + +"It ain't any use, Huck, we're wrong again." + +"Well, but we CAN'T be wrong. We spotted the shadder to a dot." + +"I know it, but then there's another thing." + +"What's that?". + +"Why, we only guessed at the time. Like enough it was too late or too +early." + +Huck dropped his shovel. + +"That's it," said he. "That's the very trouble. We got to give this +one up. We can't ever tell the right time, and besides this kind of +thing's too awful, here this time of night with witches and ghosts +a-fluttering around so. I feel as if something's behind me all the time; +and I'm afeard to turn around, becuz maybe there's others in front +a-waiting for a chance. I been creeping all over, ever since I got here." + +"Well, I've been pretty much so, too, Huck. They most always put in a +dead man when they bury a treasure under a tree, to look out for it." + +"Lordy!" + +"Yes, they do. I've always heard that." + +"Tom, I don't like to fool around much where there's dead people. A +body's bound to get into trouble with 'em, sure." + +"I don't like to stir 'em up, either. S'pose this one here was to +stick his skull out and say something!" + +"Don't Tom! It's awful." + +"Well, it just is. Huck, I don't feel comfortable a bit." + +"Say, Tom, let's give this place up, and try somewheres else." + +"All right, I reckon we better." + +"What'll it be?" + +Tom considered awhile; and then said: + +"The ha'nted house. That's it!" + +"Blame it, I don't like ha'nted houses, Tom. Why, they're a dern sight +worse'n dead people. Dead people might talk, maybe, but they don't come +sliding around in a shroud, when you ain't noticing, and peep over your +shoulder all of a sudden and grit their teeth, the way a ghost does. I +couldn't stand such a thing as that, Tom--nobody could." + +"Yes, but, Huck, ghosts don't travel around only at night. They won't +hender us from digging there in the daytime." + +"Well, that's so. But you know mighty well people don't go about that +ha'nted house in the day nor the night." + +"Well, that's mostly because they don't like to go where a man's been +murdered, anyway--but nothing's ever been seen around that house except +in the night--just some blue lights slipping by the windows--no regular +ghosts." + +"Well, where you see one of them blue lights flickering around, Tom, +you can bet there's a ghost mighty close behind it. It stands to +reason. Becuz you know that they don't anybody but ghosts use 'em." + +"Yes, that's so. But anyway they don't come around in the daytime, so +what's the use of our being afeard?" + +"Well, all right. We'll tackle the ha'nted house if you say so--but I +reckon it's taking chances." + +They had started down the hill by this time. There in the middle of +the moonlit valley below them stood the "ha'nted" house, utterly +isolated, its fences gone long ago, rank weeds smothering the very +doorsteps, the chimney crumbled to ruin, the window-sashes vacant, a +corner of the roof caved in. The boys gazed awhile, half expecting to +see a blue light flit past a window; then talking in a low tone, as +befitted the time and the circumstances, they struck far off to the +right, to give the haunted house a wide berth, and took their way +homeward through the woods that adorned the rearward side of Cardiff +Hill. + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ABOUT noon the next day the boys arrived at the dead tree; they had +come for their tools. Tom was impatient to go to the haunted house; +Huck was measurably so, also--but suddenly said: + +"Lookyhere, Tom, do you know what day it is?" + +Tom mentally ran over the days of the week, and then quickly lifted +his eyes with a startled look in them-- + +"My! I never once thought of it, Huck!" + +"Well, I didn't neither, but all at once it popped onto me that it was +Friday." + +"Blame it, a body can't be too careful, Huck. We might 'a' got into an +awful scrape, tackling such a thing on a Friday." + +"MIGHT! Better say we WOULD! There's some lucky days, maybe, but +Friday ain't." + +"Any fool knows that. I don't reckon YOU was the first that found it +out, Huck." + +"Well, I never said I was, did I? And Friday ain't all, neither. I had +a rotten bad dream last night--dreampt about rats." + +"No! Sure sign of trouble. Did they fight?" + +"No." + +"Well, that's good, Huck. When they don't fight it's only a sign that +there's trouble around, you know. All we got to do is to look mighty +sharp and keep out of it. We'll drop this thing for to-day, and play. +Do you know Robin Hood, Huck?" + +"No. Who's Robin Hood?" + +"Why, he was one of the greatest men that was ever in England--and the +best. He was a robber." + +"Cracky, I wisht I was. Who did he rob?" + +"Only sheriffs and bishops and rich people and kings, and such like. +But he never bothered the poor. He loved 'em. He always divided up with +'em perfectly square." + +"Well, he must 'a' been a brick." + +"I bet you he was, Huck. Oh, he was the noblest man that ever was. +They ain't any such men now, I can tell you. He could lick any man in +England, with one hand tied behind him; and he could take his yew bow +and plug a ten-cent piece every time, a mile and a half." + +"What's a YEW bow?" + +"I don't know. It's some kind of a bow, of course. And if he hit that +dime only on the edge he would set down and cry--and curse. But we'll +play Robin Hood--it's nobby fun. I'll learn you." + +"I'm agreed." + +So they played Robin Hood all the afternoon, now and then casting a +yearning eye down upon the haunted house and passing a remark about the +morrow's prospects and possibilities there. As the sun began to sink +into the west they took their way homeward athwart the long shadows of +the trees and soon were buried from sight in the forests of Cardiff +Hill. + +On Saturday, shortly after noon, the boys were at the dead tree again. +They had a smoke and a chat in the shade, and then dug a little in +their last hole, not with great hope, but merely because Tom said there +were so many cases where people had given up a treasure after getting +down within six inches of it, and then somebody else had come along and +turned it up with a single thrust of a shovel. The thing failed this +time, however, so the boys shouldered their tools and went away feeling +that they had not trifled with fortune, but had fulfilled all the +requirements that belong to the business of treasure-hunting. + +When they reached the haunted house there was something so weird and +grisly about the dead silence that reigned there under the baking sun, +and something so depressing about the loneliness and desolation of the +place, that they were afraid, for a moment, to venture in. Then they +crept to the door and took a trembling peep. They saw a weed-grown, +floorless room, unplastered, an ancient fireplace, vacant windows, a +ruinous staircase; and here, there, and everywhere hung ragged and +abandoned cobwebs. They presently entered, softly, with quickened +pulses, talking in whispers, ears alert to catch the slightest sound, +and muscles tense and ready for instant retreat. + +In a little while familiarity modified their fears and they gave the +place a critical and interested examination, rather admiring their own +boldness, and wondering at it, too. Next they wanted to look up-stairs. +This was something like cutting off retreat, but they got to daring +each other, and of course there could be but one result--they threw +their tools into a corner and made the ascent. Up there were the same +signs of decay. In one corner they found a closet that promised +mystery, but the promise was a fraud--there was nothing in it. Their +courage was up now and well in hand. They were about to go down and +begin work when-- + +"Sh!" said Tom. + +"What is it?" whispered Huck, blanching with fright. + +"Sh!... There!... Hear it?" + +"Yes!... Oh, my! Let's run!" + +"Keep still! Don't you budge! They're coming right toward the door." + +The boys stretched themselves upon the floor with their eyes to +knot-holes in the planking, and lay waiting, in a misery of fear. + +"They've stopped.... No--coming.... Here they are. Don't whisper +another word, Huck. My goodness, I wish I was out of this!" + +Two men entered. Each boy said to himself: "There's the old deaf and +dumb Spaniard that's been about town once or twice lately--never saw +t'other man before." + +"T'other" was a ragged, unkempt creature, with nothing very pleasant +in his face. The Spaniard was wrapped in a serape; he had bushy white +whiskers; long white hair flowed from under his sombrero, and he wore +green goggles. When they came in, "t'other" was talking in a low voice; +they sat down on the ground, facing the door, with their backs to the +wall, and the speaker continued his remarks. His manner became less +guarded and his words more distinct as he proceeded: + +"No," said he, "I've thought it all over, and I don't like it. It's +dangerous." + +"Dangerous!" grunted the "deaf and dumb" Spaniard--to the vast +surprise of the boys. "Milksop!" + +This voice made the boys gasp and quake. It was Injun Joe's! There was +silence for some time. Then Joe said: + +"What's any more dangerous than that job up yonder--but nothing's come +of it." + +"That's different. Away up the river so, and not another house about. +'Twon't ever be known that we tried, anyway, long as we didn't succeed." + +"Well, what's more dangerous than coming here in the daytime!--anybody +would suspicion us that saw us." + +"I know that. But there warn't any other place as handy after that +fool of a job. I want to quit this shanty. I wanted to yesterday, only +it warn't any use trying to stir out of here, with those infernal boys +playing over there on the hill right in full view." + +"Those infernal boys" quaked again under the inspiration of this +remark, and thought how lucky it was that they had remembered it was +Friday and concluded to wait a day. They wished in their hearts they +had waited a year. + +The two men got out some food and made a luncheon. After a long and +thoughtful silence, Injun Joe said: + +"Look here, lad--you go back up the river where you belong. Wait there +till you hear from me. I'll take the chances on dropping into this town +just once more, for a look. We'll do that 'dangerous' job after I've +spied around a little and think things look well for it. Then for +Texas! We'll leg it together!" + +This was satisfactory. Both men presently fell to yawning, and Injun +Joe said: + +"I'm dead for sleep! It's your turn to watch." + +He curled down in the weeds and soon began to snore. His comrade +stirred him once or twice and he became quiet. Presently the watcher +began to nod; his head drooped lower and lower, both men began to snore +now. + +The boys drew a long, grateful breath. Tom whispered: + +"Now's our chance--come!" + +Huck said: + +"I can't--I'd die if they was to wake." + +Tom urged--Huck held back. At last Tom rose slowly and softly, and +started alone. But the first step he made wrung such a hideous creak +from the crazy floor that he sank down almost dead with fright. He +never made a second attempt. The boys lay there counting the dragging +moments till it seemed to them that time must be done and eternity +growing gray; and then they were grateful to note that at last the sun +was setting. + +Now one snore ceased. Injun Joe sat up, stared around--smiled grimly +upon his comrade, whose head was drooping upon his knees--stirred him +up with his foot and said: + +"Here! YOU'RE a watchman, ain't you! All right, though--nothing's +happened." + +"My! have I been asleep?" + +"Oh, partly, partly. Nearly time for us to be moving, pard. What'll we +do with what little swag we've got left?" + +"I don't know--leave it here as we've always done, I reckon. No use to +take it away till we start south. Six hundred and fifty in silver's +something to carry." + +"Well--all right--it won't matter to come here once more." + +"No--but I'd say come in the night as we used to do--it's better." + +"Yes: but look here; it may be a good while before I get the right +chance at that job; accidents might happen; 'tain't in such a very good +place; we'll just regularly bury it--and bury it deep." + +"Good idea," said the comrade, who walked across the room, knelt down, +raised one of the rearward hearth-stones and took out a bag that +jingled pleasantly. He subtracted from it twenty or thirty dollars for +himself and as much for Injun Joe, and passed the bag to the latter, +who was on his knees in the corner, now, digging with his bowie-knife. + +The boys forgot all their fears, all their miseries in an instant. +With gloating eyes they watched every movement. Luck!--the splendor of +it was beyond all imagination! Six hundred dollars was money enough to +make half a dozen boys rich! Here was treasure-hunting under the +happiest auspices--there would not be any bothersome uncertainty as to +where to dig. They nudged each other every moment--eloquent nudges and +easily understood, for they simply meant--"Oh, but ain't you glad NOW +we're here!" + +Joe's knife struck upon something. + +"Hello!" said he. + +"What is it?" said his comrade. + +"Half-rotten plank--no, it's a box, I believe. Here--bear a hand and +we'll see what it's here for. Never mind, I've broke a hole." + +He reached his hand in and drew it out-- + +"Man, it's money!" + +The two men examined the handful of coins. They were gold. The boys +above were as excited as themselves, and as delighted. + +Joe's comrade said: + +"We'll make quick work of this. There's an old rusty pick over amongst +the weeds in the corner the other side of the fireplace--I saw it a +minute ago." + +He ran and brought the boys' pick and shovel. Injun Joe took the pick, +looked it over critically, shook his head, muttered something to +himself, and then began to use it. The box was soon unearthed. It was +not very large; it was iron bound and had been very strong before the +slow years had injured it. The men contemplated the treasure awhile in +blissful silence. + +"Pard, there's thousands of dollars here," said Injun Joe. + +"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here one +summer," the stranger observed. + +"I know it," said Injun Joe; "and this looks like it, I should say." + +"Now you won't need to do that job." + +The half-breed frowned. Said he: + +"You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain't +robbery altogether--it's REVENGE!" and a wicked light flamed in his +eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished--then Texas. Go +home to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me." + +"Well--if you say so; what'll we do with this--bury it again?" + +"Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] NO! by the great Sachem, no! +[Profound distress overhead.] I'd nearly forgot. That pick had fresh +earth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.] What +business has a pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earth +on them? Who brought them here--and where are they gone? Have you heard +anybody?--seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave them to come and +see the ground disturbed? Not exactly--not exactly. We'll take it to my +den." + +"Why, of course! Might have thought of that before. You mean Number +One?" + +"No--Number Two--under the cross. The other place is bad--too common." + +"All right. It's nearly dark enough to start." + +Injun Joe got up and went about from window to window cautiously +peeping out. Presently he said: + +"Who could have brought those tools here? Do you reckon they can be +up-stairs?" + +The boys' breath forsook them. Injun Joe put his hand on his knife, +halted a moment, undecided, and then turned toward the stairway. The +boys thought of the closet, but their strength was gone. The steps came +creaking up the stairs--the intolerable distress of the situation woke +the stricken resolution of the lads--they were about to spring for the +closet, when there was a crash of rotten timbers and Injun Joe landed +on the ground amid the debris of the ruined stairway. He gathered +himself up cursing, and his comrade said: + +"Now what's the use of all that? If it's anybody, and they're up +there, let them STAY there--who cares? If they want to jump down, now, +and get into trouble, who objects? It will be dark in fifteen minutes +--and then let them follow us if they want to. I'm willing. In my +opinion, whoever hove those things in here caught a sight of us and +took us for ghosts or devils or something. I'll bet they're running +yet." + +Joe grumbled awhile; then he agreed with his friend that what daylight +was left ought to be economized in getting things ready for leaving. +Shortly afterward they slipped out of the house in the deepening +twilight, and moved toward the river with their precious box. + +Tom and Huck rose up, weak but vastly relieved, and stared after them +through the chinks between the logs of the house. Follow? Not they. +They were content to reach ground again without broken necks, and take +the townward track over the hill. They did not talk much. They were too +much absorbed in hating themselves--hating the ill luck that made them +take the spade and the pick there. But for that, Injun Joe never would +have suspected. He would have hidden the silver with the gold to wait +there till his "revenge" was satisfied, and then he would have had the +misfortune to find that money turn up missing. Bitter, bitter luck that +the tools were ever brought there! + +They resolved to keep a lookout for that Spaniard when he should come +to town spying out for chances to do his revengeful job, and follow him +to "Number Two," wherever that might be. Then a ghastly thought +occurred to Tom. + +"Revenge? What if he means US, Huck!" + +"Oh, don't!" said Huck, nearly fainting. + +They talked it all over, and as they entered town they agreed to +believe that he might possibly mean somebody else--at least that he +might at least mean nobody but Tom, since only Tom had testified. + +Very, very small comfort it was to Tom to be alone in danger! Company +would be a palpable improvement, he thought. + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE adventure of the day mightily tormented Tom's dreams that night. +Four times he had his hands on that rich treasure and four times it +wasted to nothingness in his fingers as sleep forsook him and +wakefulness brought back the hard reality of his misfortune. As he lay +in the early morning recalling the incidents of his great adventure, he +noticed that they seemed curiously subdued and far away--somewhat as if +they had happened in another world, or in a time long gone by. Then it +occurred to him that the great adventure itself must be a dream! There +was one very strong argument in favor of this idea--namely, that the +quantity of coin he had seen was too vast to be real. He had never seen +as much as fifty dollars in one mass before, and he was like all boys +of his age and station in life, in that he imagined that all references +to "hundreds" and "thousands" were mere fanciful forms of speech, and +that no such sums really existed in the world. He never had supposed +for a moment that so large a sum as a hundred dollars was to be found +in actual money in any one's possession. If his notions of hidden +treasure had been analyzed, they would have been found to consist of a +handful of real dimes and a bushel of vague, splendid, ungraspable +dollars. + +But the incidents of his adventure grew sensibly sharper and clearer +under the attrition of thinking them over, and so he presently found +himself leaning to the impression that the thing might not have been a +dream, after all. This uncertainty must be swept away. He would snatch +a hurried breakfast and go and find Huck. Huck was sitting on the +gunwale of a flatboat, listlessly dangling his feet in the water and +looking very melancholy. Tom concluded to let Huck lead up to the +subject. If he did not do it, then the adventure would be proved to +have been only a dream. + +"Hello, Huck!" + +"Hello, yourself." + +Silence, for a minute. + +"Tom, if we'd 'a' left the blame tools at the dead tree, we'd 'a' got +the money. Oh, ain't it awful!" + +"'Tain't a dream, then, 'tain't a dream! Somehow I most wish it was. +Dog'd if I don't, Huck." + +"What ain't a dream?" + +"Oh, that thing yesterday. I been half thinking it was." + +"Dream! If them stairs hadn't broke down you'd 'a' seen how much dream +it was! I've had dreams enough all night--with that patch-eyed Spanish +devil going for me all through 'em--rot him!" + +"No, not rot him. FIND him! Track the money!" + +"Tom, we'll never find him. A feller don't have only one chance for +such a pile--and that one's lost. I'd feel mighty shaky if I was to see +him, anyway." + +"Well, so'd I; but I'd like to see him, anyway--and track him out--to +his Number Two." + +"Number Two--yes, that's it. I been thinking 'bout that. But I can't +make nothing out of it. What do you reckon it is?" + +"I dono. It's too deep. Say, Huck--maybe it's the number of a house!" + +"Goody!... No, Tom, that ain't it. If it is, it ain't in this +one-horse town. They ain't no numbers here." + +"Well, that's so. Lemme think a minute. Here--it's the number of a +room--in a tavern, you know!" + +"Oh, that's the trick! They ain't only two taverns. We can find out +quick." + +"You stay here, Huck, till I come." + +Tom was off at once. He did not care to have Huck's company in public +places. He was gone half an hour. He found that in the best tavern, No. +2 had long been occupied by a young lawyer, and was still so occupied. +In the less ostentatious house, No. 2 was a mystery. The +tavern-keeper's young son said it was kept locked all the time, and he +never saw anybody go into it or come out of it except at night; he did +not know any particular reason for this state of things; had had some +little curiosity, but it was rather feeble; had made the most of the +mystery by entertaining himself with the idea that that room was +"ha'nted"; had noticed that there was a light in there the night before. + +"That's what I've found out, Huck. I reckon that's the very No. 2 +we're after." + +"I reckon it is, Tom. Now what you going to do?" + +"Lemme think." + +Tom thought a long time. Then he said: + +"I'll tell you. The back door of that No. 2 is the door that comes out +into that little close alley between the tavern and the old rattle trap +of a brick store. Now you get hold of all the door-keys you can find, +and I'll nip all of auntie's, and the first dark night we'll go there +and try 'em. And mind you, keep a lookout for Injun Joe, because he +said he was going to drop into town and spy around once more for a +chance to get his revenge. If you see him, you just follow him; and if +he don't go to that No. 2, that ain't the place." + +"Lordy, I don't want to foller him by myself!" + +"Why, it'll be night, sure. He mightn't ever see you--and if he did, +maybe he'd never think anything." + +"Well, if it's pretty dark I reckon I'll track him. I dono--I dono. +I'll try." + +"You bet I'll follow him, if it's dark, Huck. Why, he might 'a' found +out he couldn't get his revenge, and be going right after that money." + +"It's so, Tom, it's so. I'll foller him; I will, by jingoes!" + +"Now you're TALKING! Don't you ever weaken, Huck, and I won't." + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THAT night Tom and Huck were ready for their adventure. They hung +about the neighborhood of the tavern until after nine, one watching the +alley at a distance and the other the tavern door. Nobody entered the +alley or left it; nobody resembling the Spaniard entered or left the +tavern door. The night promised to be a fair one; so Tom went home with +the understanding that if a considerable degree of darkness came on, +Huck was to come and "maow," whereupon he would slip out and try the +keys. But the night remained clear, and Huck closed his watch and +retired to bed in an empty sugar hogshead about twelve. + +Tuesday the boys had the same ill luck. Also Wednesday. But Thursday +night promised better. Tom slipped out in good season with his aunt's +old tin lantern, and a large towel to blindfold it with. He hid the +lantern in Huck's sugar hogshead and the watch began. An hour before +midnight the tavern closed up and its lights (the only ones +thereabouts) were put out. No Spaniard had been seen. Nobody had +entered or left the alley. Everything was auspicious. The blackness of +darkness reigned, the perfect stillness was interrupted only by +occasional mutterings of distant thunder. + +Tom got his lantern, lit it in the hogshead, wrapped it closely in the +towel, and the two adventurers crept in the gloom toward the tavern. +Huck stood sentry and Tom felt his way into the alley. Then there was a +season of waiting anxiety that weighed upon Huck's spirits like a +mountain. He began to wish he could see a flash from the lantern--it +would frighten him, but it would at least tell him that Tom was alive +yet. It seemed hours since Tom had disappeared. Surely he must have +fainted; maybe he was dead; maybe his heart had burst under terror and +excitement. In his uneasiness Huck found himself drawing closer and +closer to the alley; fearing all sorts of dreadful things, and +momentarily expecting some catastrophe to happen that would take away +his breath. There was not much to take away, for he seemed only able to +inhale it by thimblefuls, and his heart would soon wear itself out, the +way it was beating. Suddenly there was a flash of light and Tom came +tearing by him: "Run!" said he; "run, for your life!" + +He needn't have repeated it; once was enough; Huck was making thirty +or forty miles an hour before the repetition was uttered. The boys +never stopped till they reached the shed of a deserted slaughter-house +at the lower end of the village. Just as they got within its shelter +the storm burst and the rain poured down. As soon as Tom got his breath +he said: + +"Huck, it was awful! I tried two of the keys, just as soft as I could; +but they seemed to make such a power of racket that I couldn't hardly +get my breath I was so scared. They wouldn't turn in the lock, either. +Well, without noticing what I was doing, I took hold of the knob, and +open comes the door! It warn't locked! I hopped in, and shook off the +towel, and, GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!" + +"What!--what'd you see, Tom?" + +"Huck, I most stepped onto Injun Joe's hand!" + +"No!" + +"Yes! He was lying there, sound asleep on the floor, with his old +patch on his eye and his arms spread out." + +"Lordy, what did you do? Did he wake up?" + +"No, never budged. Drunk, I reckon. I just grabbed that towel and +started!" + +"I'd never 'a' thought of the towel, I bet!" + +"Well, I would. My aunt would make me mighty sick if I lost it." + +"Say, Tom, did you see that box?" + +"Huck, I didn't wait to look around. I didn't see the box, I didn't +see the cross. I didn't see anything but a bottle and a tin cup on the +floor by Injun Joe; yes, I saw two barrels and lots more bottles in the +room. Don't you see, now, what's the matter with that ha'nted room?" + +"How?" + +"Why, it's ha'nted with whiskey! Maybe ALL the Temperance Taverns have +got a ha'nted room, hey, Huck?" + +"Well, I reckon maybe that's so. Who'd 'a' thought such a thing? But +say, Tom, now's a mighty good time to get that box, if Injun Joe's +drunk." + +"It is, that! You try it!" + +Huck shuddered. + +"Well, no--I reckon not." + +"And I reckon not, Huck. Only one bottle alongside of Injun Joe ain't +enough. If there'd been three, he'd be drunk enough and I'd do it." + +There was a long pause for reflection, and then Tom said: + +"Lookyhere, Huck, less not try that thing any more till we know Injun +Joe's not in there. It's too scary. Now, if we watch every night, we'll +be dead sure to see him go out, some time or other, and then we'll +snatch that box quicker'n lightning." + +"Well, I'm agreed. I'll watch the whole night long, and I'll do it +every night, too, if you'll do the other part of the job." + +"All right, I will. All you got to do is to trot up Hooper Street a +block and maow--and if I'm asleep, you throw some gravel at the window +and that'll fetch me." + +"Agreed, and good as wheat!" + +"Now, Huck, the storm's over, and I'll go home. It'll begin to be +daylight in a couple of hours. You go back and watch that long, will +you?" + +"I said I would, Tom, and I will. I'll ha'nt that tavern every night +for a year! I'll sleep all day and I'll stand watch all night." + +"That's all right. Now, where you going to sleep?" + +"In Ben Rogers' hayloft. He lets me, and so does his pap's nigger man, +Uncle Jake. I tote water for Uncle Jake whenever he wants me to, and +any time I ask him he gives me a little something to eat if he can +spare it. That's a mighty good nigger, Tom. He likes me, becuz I don't +ever act as if I was above him. Sometime I've set right down and eat +WITH him. But you needn't tell that. A body's got to do things when +he's awful hungry he wouldn't want to do as a steady thing." + +"Well, if I don't want you in the daytime, I'll let you sleep. I won't +come bothering around. Any time you see something's up, in the night, +just skip right around and maow." + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE first thing Tom heard on Friday morning was a glad piece of news +--Judge Thatcher's family had come back to town the night before. Both +Injun Joe and the treasure sunk into secondary importance for a moment, +and Becky took the chief place in the boy's interest. He saw her and +they had an exhausting good time playing "hi-spy" and "gully-keeper" +with a crowd of their school-mates. The day was completed and crowned +in a peculiarly satisfactory way: Becky teased her mother to appoint +the next day for the long-promised and long-delayed picnic, and she +consented. The child's delight was boundless; and Tom's not more +moderate. The invitations were sent out before sunset, and straightway +the young folks of the village were thrown into a fever of preparation +and pleasurable anticipation. Tom's excitement enabled him to keep +awake until a pretty late hour, and he had good hopes of hearing Huck's +"maow," and of having his treasure to astonish Becky and the picnickers +with, next day; but he was disappointed. No signal came that night. + +Morning came, eventually, and by ten or eleven o'clock a giddy and +rollicking company were gathered at Judge Thatcher's, and everything +was ready for a start. It was not the custom for elderly people to mar +the picnics with their presence. The children were considered safe +enough under the wings of a few young ladies of eighteen and a few +young gentlemen of twenty-three or thereabouts. The old steam ferryboat +was chartered for the occasion; presently the gay throng filed up the +main street laden with provision-baskets. Sid was sick and had to miss +the fun; Mary remained at home to entertain him. The last thing Mrs. +Thatcher said to Becky, was: + +"You'll not get back till late. Perhaps you'd better stay all night +with some of the girls that live near the ferry-landing, child." + +"Then I'll stay with Susy Harper, mamma." + +"Very well. And mind and behave yourself and don't be any trouble." + +Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky: + +"Say--I'll tell you what we'll do. 'Stead of going to Joe Harper's +we'll climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas'. She'll +have ice-cream! She has it most every day--dead loads of it. And she'll +be awful glad to have us." + +"Oh, that will be fun!" + +Then Becky reflected a moment and said: + +"But what will mamma say?" + +"How'll she ever know?" + +The girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly: + +"I reckon it's wrong--but--" + +"But shucks! Your mother won't know, and so what's the harm? All she +wants is that you'll be safe; and I bet you she'd 'a' said go there if +she'd 'a' thought of it. I know she would!" + +The Widow Douglas' splendid hospitality was a tempting bait. It and +Tom's persuasions presently carried the day. So it was decided to say +nothing anybody about the night's programme. Presently it occurred to +Tom that maybe Huck might come this very night and give the signal. The +thought took a deal of the spirit out of his anticipations. Still he +could not bear to give up the fun at Widow Douglas'. And why should he +give it up, he reasoned--the signal did not come the night before, so +why should it be any more likely to come to-night? The sure fun of the +evening outweighed the uncertain treasure; and, boy-like, he determined +to yield to the stronger inclination and not allow himself to think of +the box of money another time that day. + +Three miles below town the ferryboat stopped at the mouth of a woody +hollow and tied up. The crowd swarmed ashore and soon the forest +distances and craggy heights echoed far and near with shoutings and +laughter. All the different ways of getting hot and tired were gone +through with, and by-and-by the rovers straggled back to camp fortified +with responsible appetites, and then the destruction of the good things +began. After the feast there was a refreshing season of rest and chat +in the shade of spreading oaks. By-and-by somebody shouted: + +"Who's ready for the cave?" + +Everybody was. Bundles of candles were procured, and straightway there +was a general scamper up the hill. The mouth of the cave was up the +hillside--an opening shaped like a letter A. Its massive oaken door +stood unbarred. Within was a small chamber, chilly as an ice-house, and +walled by Nature with solid limestone that was dewy with a cold sweat. +It was romantic and mysterious to stand here in the deep gloom and look +out upon the green valley shining in the sun. But the impressiveness of +the situation quickly wore off, and the romping began again. The moment +a candle was lighted there was a general rush upon the owner of it; a +struggle and a gallant defence followed, but the candle was soon +knocked down or blown out, and then there was a glad clamor of laughter +and a new chase. But all things have an end. By-and-by the procession +went filing down the steep descent of the main avenue, the flickering +rank of lights dimly revealing the lofty walls of rock almost to their +point of junction sixty feet overhead. This main avenue was not more +than eight or ten feet wide. Every few steps other lofty and still +narrower crevices branched from it on either hand--for McDougal's cave +was but a vast labyrinth of crooked aisles that ran into each other and +out again and led nowhere. It was said that one might wander days and +nights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and +never find the end of the cave; and that he might go down, and down, +and still down, into the earth, and it was just the same--labyrinth +under labyrinth, and no end to any of them. No man "knew" the cave. +That was an impossible thing. Most of the young men knew a portion of +it, and it was not customary to venture much beyond this known portion. +Tom Sawyer knew as much of the cave as any one. + +The procession moved along the main avenue some three-quarters of a +mile, and then groups and couples began to slip aside into branch +avenues, fly along the dismal corridors, and take each other by +surprise at points where the corridors joined again. Parties were able +to elude each other for the space of half an hour without going beyond +the "known" ground. + +By-and-by, one group after another came straggling back to the mouth +of the cave, panting, hilarious, smeared from head to foot with tallow +drippings, daubed with clay, and entirely delighted with the success of +the day. Then they were astonished to find that they had been taking no +note of time and that night was about at hand. The clanging bell had +been calling for half an hour. However, this sort of close to the day's +adventures was romantic and therefore satisfactory. When the ferryboat +with her wild freight pushed into the stream, nobody cared sixpence for +the wasted time but the captain of the craft. + +Huck was already upon his watch when the ferryboat's lights went +glinting past the wharf. He heard no noise on board, for the young +people were as subdued and still as people usually are who are nearly +tired to death. He wondered what boat it was, and why she did not stop +at the wharf--and then he dropped her out of his mind and put his +attention upon his business. The night was growing cloudy and dark. Ten +o'clock came, and the noise of vehicles ceased, scattered lights began +to wink out, all straggling foot-passengers disappeared, the village +betook itself to its slumbers and left the small watcher alone with the +silence and the ghosts. Eleven o'clock came, and the tavern lights were +put out; darkness everywhere, now. Huck waited what seemed a weary long +time, but nothing happened. His faith was weakening. Was there any use? +Was there really any use? Why not give it up and turn in? + +A noise fell upon his ear. He was all attention in an instant. The +alley door closed softly. He sprang to the corner of the brick store. +The next moment two men brushed by him, and one seemed to have +something under his arm. It must be that box! So they were going to +remove the treasure. Why call Tom now? It would be absurd--the men +would get away with the box and never be found again. No, he would +stick to their wake and follow them; he would trust to the darkness for +security from discovery. So communing with himself, Huck stepped out +and glided along behind the men, cat-like, with bare feet, allowing +them to keep just far enough ahead not to be invisible. + +They moved up the river street three blocks, then turned to the left +up a cross-street. They went straight ahead, then, until they came to +the path that led up Cardiff Hill; this they took. They passed by the +old Welshman's house, half-way up the hill, without hesitating, and +still climbed upward. Good, thought Huck, they will bury it in the old +quarry. But they never stopped at the quarry. They passed on, up the +summit. They plunged into the narrow path between the tall sumach +bushes, and were at once hidden in the gloom. Huck closed up and +shortened his distance, now, for they would never be able to see him. +He trotted along awhile; then slackened his pace, fearing he was +gaining too fast; moved on a piece, then stopped altogether; listened; +no sound; none, save that he seemed to hear the beating of his own +heart. The hooting of an owl came over the hill--ominous sound! But no +footsteps. Heavens, was everything lost! He was about to spring with +winged feet, when a man cleared his throat not four feet from him! +Huck's heart shot into his throat, but he swallowed it again; and then +he stood there shaking as if a dozen agues had taken charge of him at +once, and so weak that he thought he must surely fall to the ground. He +knew where he was. He knew he was within five steps of the stile +leading into Widow Douglas' grounds. Very well, he thought, let them +bury it there; it won't be hard to find. + +Now there was a voice--a very low voice--Injun Joe's: + +"Damn her, maybe she's got company--there's lights, late as it is." + +"I can't see any." + +This was that stranger's voice--the stranger of the haunted house. A +deadly chill went to Huck's heart--this, then, was the "revenge" job! +His thought was, to fly. Then he remembered that the Widow Douglas had +been kind to him more than once, and maybe these men were going to +murder her. He wished he dared venture to warn her; but he knew he +didn't dare--they might come and catch him. He thought all this and +more in the moment that elapsed between the stranger's remark and Injun +Joe's next--which was-- + +"Because the bush is in your way. Now--this way--now you see, don't +you?" + +"Yes. Well, there IS company there, I reckon. Better give it up." + +"Give it up, and I just leaving this country forever! Give it up and +maybe never have another chance. I tell you again, as I've told you +before, I don't care for her swag--you may have it. But her husband was +rough on me--many times he was rough on me--and mainly he was the +justice of the peace that jugged me for a vagrant. And that ain't all. +It ain't a millionth part of it! He had me HORSEWHIPPED!--horsewhipped +in front of the jail, like a nigger!--with all the town looking on! +HORSEWHIPPED!--do you understand? He took advantage of me and died. But +I'll take it out of HER." + +"Oh, don't kill her! Don't do that!" + +"Kill? Who said anything about killing? I would kill HIM if he was +here; but not her. When you want to get revenge on a woman you don't +kill her--bosh! you go for her looks. You slit her nostrils--you notch +her ears like a sow!" + +"By God, that's--" + +"Keep your opinion to yourself! It will be safest for you. I'll tie +her to the bed. If she bleeds to death, is that my fault? I'll not cry, +if she does. My friend, you'll help me in this thing--for MY sake +--that's why you're here--I mightn't be able alone. If you flinch, I'll +kill you. Do you understand that? And if I have to kill you, I'll kill +her--and then I reckon nobody'll ever know much about who done this +business." + +"Well, if it's got to be done, let's get at it. The quicker the +better--I'm all in a shiver." + +"Do it NOW? And company there? Look here--I'll get suspicious of you, +first thing you know. No--we'll wait till the lights are out--there's +no hurry." + +Huck felt that a silence was going to ensue--a thing still more awful +than any amount of murderous talk; so he held his breath and stepped +gingerly back; planted his foot carefully and firmly, after balancing, +one-legged, in a precarious way and almost toppling over, first on one +side and then on the other. He took another step back, with the same +elaboration and the same risks; then another and another, and--a twig +snapped under his foot! His breath stopped and he listened. There was +no sound--the stillness was perfect. His gratitude was measureless. Now +he turned in his tracks, between the walls of sumach bushes--turned +himself as carefully as if he were a ship--and then stepped quickly but +cautiously along. When he emerged at the quarry he felt secure, and so +he picked up his nimble heels and flew. Down, down he sped, till he +reached the Welshman's. He banged at the door, and presently the heads +of the old man and his two stalwart sons were thrust from windows. + +"What's the row there? Who's banging? What do you want?" + +"Let me in--quick! I'll tell everything." + +"Why, who are you?" + +"Huckleberry Finn--quick, let me in!" + +"Huckleberry Finn, indeed! It ain't a name to open many doors, I +judge! But let him in, lads, and let's see what's the trouble." + +"Please don't ever tell I told you," were Huck's first words when he +got in. "Please don't--I'd be killed, sure--but the widow's been good +friends to me sometimes, and I want to tell--I WILL tell if you'll +promise you won't ever say it was me." + +"By George, he HAS got something to tell, or he wouldn't act so!" +exclaimed the old man; "out with it and nobody here'll ever tell, lad." + +Three minutes later the old man and his sons, well armed, were up the +hill, and just entering the sumach path on tiptoe, their weapons in +their hands. Huck accompanied them no further. He hid behind a great +bowlder and fell to listening. There was a lagging, anxious silence, +and then all of a sudden there was an explosion of firearms and a cry. + +Huck waited for no particulars. He sprang away and sped down the hill +as fast as his legs could carry him. + +CHAPTER XXX + +AS the earliest suspicion of dawn appeared on Sunday morning, Huck +came groping up the hill and rapped gently at the old Welshman's door. +The inmates were asleep, but it was a sleep that was set on a +hair-trigger, on account of the exciting episode of the night. A call +came from a window: + +"Who's there!" + +Huck's scared voice answered in a low tone: + +"Please let me in! It's only Huck Finn!" + +"It's a name that can open this door night or day, lad!--and welcome!" + +These were strange words to the vagabond boy's ears, and the +pleasantest he had ever heard. He could not recollect that the closing +word had ever been applied in his case before. The door was quickly +unlocked, and he entered. Huck was given a seat and the old man and his +brace of tall sons speedily dressed themselves. + +"Now, my boy, I hope you're good and hungry, because breakfast will be +ready as soon as the sun's up, and we'll have a piping hot one, too +--make yourself easy about that! I and the boys hoped you'd turn up and +stop here last night." + +"I was awful scared," said Huck, "and I run. I took out when the +pistols went off, and I didn't stop for three mile. I've come now becuz +I wanted to know about it, you know; and I come before daylight becuz I +didn't want to run across them devils, even if they was dead." + +"Well, poor chap, you do look as if you'd had a hard night of it--but +there's a bed here for you when you've had your breakfast. No, they +ain't dead, lad--we are sorry enough for that. You see we knew right +where to put our hands on them, by your description; so we crept along +on tiptoe till we got within fifteen feet of them--dark as a cellar +that sumach path was--and just then I found I was going to sneeze. It +was the meanest kind of luck! I tried to keep it back, but no use +--'twas bound to come, and it did come! I was in the lead with my pistol +raised, and when the sneeze started those scoundrels a-rustling to get +out of the path, I sung out, 'Fire boys!' and blazed away at the place +where the rustling was. So did the boys. But they were off in a jiffy, +those villains, and we after them, down through the woods. I judge we +never touched them. They fired a shot apiece as they started, but their +bullets whizzed by and didn't do us any harm. As soon as we lost the +sound of their feet we quit chasing, and went down and stirred up the +constables. They got a posse together, and went off to guard the river +bank, and as soon as it is light the sheriff and a gang are going to +beat up the woods. My boys will be with them presently. I wish we had +some sort of description of those rascals--'twould help a good deal. +But you couldn't see what they were like, in the dark, lad, I suppose?" + +"Oh yes; I saw them down-town and follered them." + +"Splendid! Describe them--describe them, my boy!" + +"One's the old deaf and dumb Spaniard that's ben around here once or +twice, and t'other's a mean-looking, ragged--" + +"That's enough, lad, we know the men! Happened on them in the woods +back of the widow's one day, and they slunk away. Off with you, boys, +and tell the sheriff--get your breakfast to-morrow morning!" + +The Welshman's sons departed at once. As they were leaving the room +Huck sprang up and exclaimed: + +"Oh, please don't tell ANYbody it was me that blowed on them! Oh, +please!" + +"All right if you say it, Huck, but you ought to have the credit of +what you did." + +"Oh no, no! Please don't tell!" + +When the young men were gone, the old Welshman said: + +"They won't tell--and I won't. But why don't you want it known?" + +Huck would not explain, further than to say that he already knew too +much about one of those men and would not have the man know that he +knew anything against him for the whole world--he would be killed for +knowing it, sure. + +The old man promised secrecy once more, and said: + +"How did you come to follow these fellows, lad? Were they looking +suspicious?" + +Huck was silent while he framed a duly cautious reply. Then he said: + +"Well, you see, I'm a kind of a hard lot,--least everybody says so, +and I don't see nothing agin it--and sometimes I can't sleep much, on +account of thinking about it and sort of trying to strike out a new way +of doing. That was the way of it last night. I couldn't sleep, and so I +come along up-street 'bout midnight, a-turning it all over, and when I +got to that old shackly brick store by the Temperance Tavern, I backed +up agin the wall to have another think. Well, just then along comes +these two chaps slipping along close by me, with something under their +arm, and I reckoned they'd stole it. One was a-smoking, and t'other one +wanted a light; so they stopped right before me and the cigars lit up +their faces and I see that the big one was the deaf and dumb Spaniard, +by his white whiskers and the patch on his eye, and t'other one was a +rusty, ragged-looking devil." + +"Could you see the rags by the light of the cigars?" + +This staggered Huck for a moment. Then he said: + +"Well, I don't know--but somehow it seems as if I did." + +"Then they went on, and you--" + +"Follered 'em--yes. That was it. I wanted to see what was up--they +sneaked along so. I dogged 'em to the widder's stile, and stood in the +dark and heard the ragged one beg for the widder, and the Spaniard +swear he'd spile her looks just as I told you and your two--" + +"What! The DEAF AND DUMB man said all that!" + +Huck had made another terrible mistake! He was trying his best to keep +the old man from getting the faintest hint of who the Spaniard might +be, and yet his tongue seemed determined to get him into trouble in +spite of all he could do. He made several efforts to creep out of his +scrape, but the old man's eye was upon him and he made blunder after +blunder. Presently the Welshman said: + +"My boy, don't be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a hair of your head +for all the world. No--I'd protect you--I'd protect you. This Spaniard +is not deaf and dumb; you've let that slip without intending it; you +can't cover that up now. You know something about that Spaniard that +you want to keep dark. Now trust me--tell me what it is, and trust me +--I won't betray you." + +Huck looked into the old man's honest eyes a moment, then bent over +and whispered in his ear: + +"'Tain't a Spaniard--it's Injun Joe!" + +The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said: + +"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and +slitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because +white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's a +different matter altogether." + +During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man +said that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going +to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for +marks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of-- + +"Of WHAT?" + +If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more +stunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staring +wide, now, and his breath suspended--waiting for the answer. The +Welshman started--stared in return--three seconds--five seconds--ten +--then replied: + +"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the MATTER with you?" + +Huck sank back, panting gently, but deeply, unutterably grateful. The +Welshman eyed him gravely, curiously--and presently said: + +"Yes, burglar's tools. That appears to relieve you a good deal. But +what did give you that turn? What were YOU expecting we'd found?" + +Huck was in a close place--the inquiring eye was upon him--he would +have given anything for material for a plausible answer--nothing +suggested itself--the inquiring eye was boring deeper and deeper--a +senseless reply offered--there was no time to weigh it, so at a venture +he uttered it--feebly: + +"Sunday-school books, maybe." + +Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud +and joyously, shook up the details of his anatomy from head to foot, +and ended by saying that such a laugh was money in a-man's pocket, +because it cut down the doctor's bill like everything. Then he added: + +"Poor old chap, you're white and jaded--you ain't well a bit--no +wonder you're a little flighty and off your balance. But you'll come +out of it. Rest and sleep will fetch you out all right, I hope." + +Huck was irritated to think he had been such a goose and betrayed such +a suspicious excitement, for he had dropped the idea that the parcel +brought from the tavern was the treasure, as soon as he had heard the +talk at the widow's stile. He had only thought it was not the treasure, +however--he had not known that it wasn't--and so the suggestion of a +captured bundle was too much for his self-possession. But on the whole +he felt glad the little episode had happened, for now he knew beyond +all question that that bundle was not THE bundle, and so his mind was +at rest and exceedingly comfortable. In fact, everything seemed to be +drifting just in the right direction, now; the treasure must be still +in No. 2, the men would be captured and jailed that day, and he and Tom +could seize the gold that night without any trouble or any fear of +interruption. + +Just as breakfast was completed there was a knock at the door. Huck +jumped for a hiding-place, for he had no mind to be connected even +remotely with the late event. The Welshman admitted several ladies and +gentlemen, among them the Widow Douglas, and noticed that groups of +citizens were climbing up the hill--to stare at the stile. So the news +had spread. The Welshman had to tell the story of the night to the +visitors. The widow's gratitude for her preservation was outspoken. + +"Don't say a word about it, madam. There's another that you're more +beholden to than you are to me and my boys, maybe, but he don't allow +me to tell his name. We wouldn't have been there but for him." + +Of course this excited a curiosity so vast that it almost belittled +the main matter--but the Welshman allowed it to eat into the vitals of +his visitors, and through them be transmitted to the whole town, for he +refused to part with his secret. When all else had been learned, the +widow said: + +"I went to sleep reading in bed and slept straight through all that +noise. Why didn't you come and wake me?" + +"We judged it warn't worth while. Those fellows warn't likely to come +again--they hadn't any tools left to work with, and what was the use of +waking you up and scaring you to death? My three negro men stood guard +at your house all the rest of the night. They've just come back." + +More visitors came, and the story had to be told and retold for a +couple of hours more. + +There was no Sabbath-school during day-school vacation, but everybody +was early at church. The stirring event was well canvassed. News came +that not a sign of the two villains had been yet discovered. When the +sermon was finished, Judge Thatcher's wife dropped alongside of Mrs. +Harper as she moved down the aisle with the crowd and said: + +"Is my Becky going to sleep all day? I just expected she would be +tired to death." + +"Your Becky?" + +"Yes," with a startled look--"didn't she stay with you last night?" + +"Why, no." + +Mrs. Thatcher turned pale, and sank into a pew, just as Aunt Polly, +talking briskly with a friend, passed by. Aunt Polly said: + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Thatcher. Good-morning, Mrs. Harper. I've got a +boy that's turned up missing. I reckon my Tom stayed at your house last +night--one of you. And now he's afraid to come to church. I've got to +settle with him." + +Mrs. Thatcher shook her head feebly and turned paler than ever. + +"He didn't stay with us," said Mrs. Harper, beginning to look uneasy. +A marked anxiety came into Aunt Polly's face. + +"Joe Harper, have you seen my Tom this morning?" + +"No'm." + +"When did you see him last?" + +Joe tried to remember, but was not sure he could say. The people had +stopped moving out of church. Whispers passed along, and a boding +uneasiness took possession of every countenance. Children were +anxiously questioned, and young teachers. They all said they had not +noticed whether Tom and Becky were on board the ferryboat on the +homeward trip; it was dark; no one thought of inquiring if any one was +missing. One young man finally blurted out his fear that they were +still in the cave! Mrs. Thatcher swooned away. Aunt Polly fell to +crying and wringing her hands. + +The alarm swept from lip to lip, from group to group, from street to +street, and within five minutes the bells were wildly clanging and the +whole town was up! The Cardiff Hill episode sank into instant +insignificance, the burglars were forgotten, horses were saddled, +skiffs were manned, the ferryboat ordered out, and before the horror +was half an hour old, two hundred men were pouring down highroad and +river toward the cave. + +All the long afternoon the village seemed empty and dead. Many women +visited Aunt Polly and Mrs. Thatcher and tried to comfort them. They +cried with them, too, and that was still better than words. All the +tedious night the town waited for news; but when the morning dawned at +last, all the word that came was, "Send more candles--and send food." +Mrs. Thatcher was almost crazed; and Aunt Polly, also. Judge Thatcher +sent messages of hope and encouragement from the cave, but they +conveyed no real cheer. + +The old Welshman came home toward daylight, spattered with +candle-grease, smeared with clay, and almost worn out. He found Huck +still in the bed that had been provided for him, and delirious with +fever. The physicians were all at the cave, so the Widow Douglas came +and took charge of the patient. She said she would do her best by him, +because, whether he was good, bad, or indifferent, he was the Lord's, +and nothing that was the Lord's was a thing to be neglected. The +Welshman said Huck had good spots in him, and the widow said: + +"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off. +He never does. Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from his +hands." + +Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the +village, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All the +news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern were +being ransacked that had never been visited before; that every corner +and crevice was going to be thoroughly searched; that wherever one +wandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting +hither and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistol-shots sent +their hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In one +place, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names +"BECKY & TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall with +candle-smoke, and near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs. +Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the +last relic she should ever have of her child; and that no other memorial +of her could ever be so precious, because this one parted latest from +the living body before the awful death came. Some said that now and +then, in the cave, a far-away speck of light would glimmer, and then a +glorious shout would burst forth and a score of men go trooping down the +echoing aisle--and then a sickening disappointment always followed; the +children were not there; it was only a searcher's light. + +Three dreadful days and nights dragged their tedious hours along, and +the village sank into a hopeless stupor. No one had heart for anything. +The accidental discovery, just made, that the proprietor of the +Temperance Tavern kept liquor on his premises, scarcely fluttered the +public pulse, tremendous as the fact was. In a lucid interval, Huck +feebly led up to the subject of taverns, and finally asked--dimly +dreading the worst--if anything had been discovered at the Temperance +Tavern since he had been ill. + +"Yes," said the widow. + +Huck started up in bed, wild-eyed: + +"What? What was it?" + +"Liquor!--and the place has been shut up. Lie down, child--what a turn +you did give me!" + +"Only tell me just one thing--only just one--please! Was it Tom Sawyer +that found it?" + +The widow burst into tears. "Hush, hush, child, hush! I've told you +before, you must NOT talk. You are very, very sick!" + +Then nothing but liquor had been found; there would have been a great +powwow if it had been the gold. So the treasure was gone forever--gone +forever! But what could she be crying about? Curious that she should +cry. + +These thoughts worked their dim way through Huck's mind, and under the +weariness they gave him he fell asleep. The widow said to herself: + +"There--he's asleep, poor wreck. Tom Sawyer find it! Pity but somebody +could find Tom Sawyer! Ah, there ain't many left, now, that's got hope +enough, or strength enough, either, to go on searching." + +CHAPTER XXXI + +NOW to return to Tom and Becky's share in the picnic. They tripped +along the murky aisles with the rest of the company, visiting the +familiar wonders of the cave--wonders dubbed with rather +over-descriptive names, such as "The Drawing-Room," "The Cathedral," +"Aladdin's Palace," and so on. Presently the hide-and-seek frolicking +began, and Tom and Becky engaged in it with zeal until the exertion +began to grow a trifle wearisome; then they wandered down a sinuous +avenue holding their candles aloft and reading the tangled web-work of +names, dates, post-office addresses, and mottoes with which the rocky +walls had been frescoed (in candle-smoke). Still drifting along and +talking, they scarcely noticed that they were now in a part of the cave +whose walls were not frescoed. They smoked their own names under an +overhanging shelf and moved on. Presently they came to a place where a +little stream of water, trickling over a ledge and carrying a limestone +sediment with it, had, in the slow-dragging ages, formed a laced and +ruffled Niagara in gleaming and imperishable stone. Tom squeezed his +small body behind it in order to illuminate it for Becky's +gratification. He found that it curtained a sort of steep natural +stairway which was enclosed between narrow walls, and at once the +ambition to be a discoverer seized him. Becky responded to his call, +and they made a smoke-mark for future guidance, and started upon their +quest. They wound this way and that, far down into the secret depths of +the cave, made another mark, and branched off in search of novelties to +tell the upper world about. In one place they found a spacious cavern, +from whose ceiling depended a multitude of shining stalactites of the +length and circumference of a man's leg; they walked all about it, +wondering and admiring, and presently left it by one of the numerous +passages that opened into it. This shortly brought them to a bewitching +spring, whose basin was incrusted with a frostwork of glittering +crystals; it was in the midst of a cavern whose walls were supported by +many fantastic pillars which had been formed by the joining of great +stalactites and stalagmites together, the result of the ceaseless +water-drip of centuries. Under the roof vast knots of bats had packed +themselves together, thousands in a bunch; the lights disturbed the +creatures and they came flocking down by hundreds, squeaking and +darting furiously at the candles. Tom knew their ways and the danger of +this sort of conduct. He seized Becky's hand and hurried her into the +first corridor that offered; and none too soon, for a bat struck +Becky's light out with its wing while she was passing out of the +cavern. The bats chased the children a good distance; but the fugitives +plunged into every new passage that offered, and at last got rid of the +perilous things. Tom found a subterranean lake, shortly, which +stretched its dim length away until its shape was lost in the shadows. +He wanted to explore its borders, but concluded that it would be best +to sit down and rest awhile, first. Now, for the first time, the deep +stillness of the place laid a clammy hand upon the spirits of the +children. Becky said: + +"Why, I didn't notice, but it seems ever so long since I heard any of +the others." + +"Come to think, Becky, we are away down below them--and I don't know +how far away north, or south, or east, or whichever it is. We couldn't +hear them here." + +Becky grew apprehensive. + +"I wonder how long we've been down here, Tom? We better start back." + +"Yes, I reckon we better. P'raps we better." + +"Can you find the way, Tom? It's all a mixed-up crookedness to me." + +"I reckon I could find it--but then the bats. If they put our candles +out it will be an awful fix. Let's try some other way, so as not to go +through there." + +"Well. But I hope we won't get lost. It would be so awful!" and the +girl shuddered at the thought of the dreadful possibilities. + +They started through a corridor, and traversed it in silence a long +way, glancing at each new opening, to see if there was anything +familiar about the look of it; but they were all strange. Every time +Tom made an examination, Becky would watch his face for an encouraging +sign, and he would say cheerily: + +"Oh, it's all right. This ain't the one, but we'll come to it right +away!" + +But he felt less and less hopeful with each failure, and presently +began to turn off into diverging avenues at sheer random, in desperate +hope of finding the one that was wanted. He still said it was "all +right," but there was such a leaden dread at his heart that the words +had lost their ring and sounded just as if he had said, "All is lost!" +Becky clung to his side in an anguish of fear, and tried hard to keep +back the tears, but they would come. At last she said: + +"Oh, Tom, never mind the bats, let's go back that way! We seem to get +worse and worse off all the time." + +"Listen!" said he. + +Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were +conspicuous in the hush. Tom shouted. The call went echoing down the +empty aisles and died out in the distance in a faint sound that +resembled a ripple of mocking laughter. + +"Oh, don't do it again, Tom, it is too horrid," said Becky. + +"It is horrid, but I better, Becky; they might hear us, you know," and +he shouted again. + +The "might" was even a chillier horror than the ghostly laughter, it +so confessed a perishing hope. The children stood still and listened; +but there was no result. Tom turned upon the back track at once, and +hurried his steps. It was but a little while before a certain +indecision in his manner revealed another fearful fact to Becky--he +could not find his way back! + +"Oh, Tom, you didn't make any marks!" + +"Becky, I was such a fool! Such a fool! I never thought we might want +to come back! No--I can't find the way. It's all mixed up." + +"Tom, Tom, we're lost! we're lost! We never can get out of this awful +place! Oh, why DID we ever leave the others!" + +She sank to the ground and burst into such a frenzy of crying that Tom +was appalled with the idea that she might die, or lose her reason. He +sat down by her and put his arms around her; she buried her face in his +bosom, she clung to him, she poured out her terrors, her unavailing +regrets, and the far echoes turned them all to jeering laughter. Tom +begged her to pluck up hope again, and she said she could not. He fell +to blaming and abusing himself for getting her into this miserable +situation; this had a better effect. She said she would try to hope +again, she would get up and follow wherever he might lead if only he +would not talk like that any more. For he was no more to blame than +she, she said. + +So they moved on again--aimlessly--simply at random--all they could do +was to move, keep moving. For a little while, hope made a show of +reviving--not with any reason to back it, but only because it is its +nature to revive when the spring has not been taken out of it by age +and familiarity with failure. + +By-and-by Tom took Becky's candle and blew it out. This economy meant +so much! Words were not needed. Becky understood, and her hope died +again. She knew that Tom had a whole candle and three or four pieces in +his pockets--yet he must economize. + +By-and-by, fatigue began to assert its claims; the children tried to +pay attention, for it was dreadful to think of sitting down when time +was grown to be so precious, moving, in some direction, in any +direction, was at least progress and might bear fruit; but to sit down +was to invite death and shorten its pursuit. + +At last Becky's frail limbs refused to carry her farther. She sat +down. Tom rested with her, and they talked of home, and the friends +there, and the comfortable beds and, above all, the light! Becky cried, +and Tom tried to think of some way of comforting her, but all his +encouragements were grown threadbare with use, and sounded like +sarcasms. Fatigue bore so heavily upon Becky that she drowsed off to +sleep. Tom was grateful. He sat looking into her drawn face and saw it +grow smooth and natural under the influence of pleasant dreams; and +by-and-by a smile dawned and rested there. The peaceful face reflected +somewhat of peace and healing into his own spirit, and his thoughts +wandered away to bygone times and dreamy memories. While he was deep in +his musings, Becky woke up with a breezy little laugh--but it was +stricken dead upon her lips, and a groan followed it. + +"Oh, how COULD I sleep! I wish I never, never had waked! No! No, I +don't, Tom! Don't look so! I won't say it again." + +"I'm glad you've slept, Becky; you'll feel rested, now, and we'll find +the way out." + +"We can try, Tom; but I've seen such a beautiful country in my dream. +I reckon we are going there." + +"Maybe not, maybe not. Cheer up, Becky, and let's go on trying." + +They rose up and wandered along, hand in hand and hopeless. They tried +to estimate how long they had been in the cave, but all they knew was +that it seemed days and weeks, and yet it was plain that this could not +be, for their candles were not gone yet. A long time after this--they +could not tell how long--Tom said they must go softly and listen for +dripping water--they must find a spring. They found one presently, and +Tom said it was time to rest again. Both were cruelly tired, yet Becky +said she thought she could go a little farther. She was surprised to +hear Tom dissent. She could not understand it. They sat down, and Tom +fastened his candle to the wall in front of them with some clay. +Thought was soon busy; nothing was said for some time. Then Becky broke +the silence: + +"Tom, I am so hungry!" + +Tom took something out of his pocket. + +"Do you remember this?" said he. + +Becky almost smiled. + +"It's our wedding-cake, Tom." + +"Yes--I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it's all we've got." + +"I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grown-up +people do with wedding-cake--but it'll be our--" + +She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Becky +ate with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There was +abundance of cold water to finish the feast with. By-and-by Becky +suggested that they move on again. Tom was silent a moment. Then he +said: + +"Becky, can you bear it if I tell you something?" + +Becky's face paled, but she thought she could. + +"Well, then, Becky, we must stay here, where there's water to drink. +That little piece is our last candle!" + +Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what he could to +comfort her, but with little effect. At length Becky said: + +"Tom!" + +"Well, Becky?" + +"They'll miss us and hunt for us!" + +"Yes, they will! Certainly they will!" + +"Maybe they're hunting for us now, Tom." + +"Why, I reckon maybe they are. I hope they are." + +"When would they miss us, Tom?" + +"When they get back to the boat, I reckon." + +"Tom, it might be dark then--would they notice we hadn't come?" + +"I don't know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they +got home." + +A frightened look in Becky's face brought Tom to his senses and he saw +that he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night! +The children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of +grief from Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers +also--that the Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher +discovered that Becky was not at Mrs. Harper's. + +The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched +it melt slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick stand +alone at last; saw the feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin +column of smoke, linger at its top a moment, and then--the horror of +utter darkness reigned! + +How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that +she was crying in Tom's arms, neither could tell. All that they knew +was, that after what seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of +a dead stupor of sleep and resumed their miseries once more. Tom said +it might be Sunday, now--maybe Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk, +but her sorrows were too oppressive, all her hopes were gone. Tom said +that they must have been missed long ago, and no doubt the search was +going on. He would shout and maybe some one would come. He tried it; +but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously that he +tried it no more. + +The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again. +A portion of Tom's half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it. +But they seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food only +whetted desire. + +By-and-by Tom said: + +"SH! Did you hear that?" + +Both held their breath and listened. There was a sound like the +faintest, far-off shout. Instantly Tom answered it, and leading Becky +by the hand, started groping down the corridor in its direction. +Presently he listened again; again the sound was heard, and apparently +a little nearer. + +"It's them!" said Tom; "they're coming! Come along, Becky--we're all +right now!" + +The joy of the prisoners was almost overwhelming. Their speed was +slow, however, because pitfalls were somewhat common, and had to be +guarded against. They shortly came to one and had to stop. It might be +three feet deep, it might be a hundred--there was no passing it at any +rate. Tom got down on his breast and reached as far down as he could. +No bottom. They must stay there and wait until the searchers came. They +listened; evidently the distant shoutings were growing more distant! a +moment or two more and they had gone altogether. The heart-sinking +misery of it! Tom whooped until he was hoarse, but it was of no use. He +talked hopefully to Becky; but an age of anxious waiting passed and no +sounds came again. + +The children groped their way back to the spring. The weary time +dragged on; they slept again, and awoke famished and woe-stricken. Tom +believed it must be Tuesday by this time. + +Now an idea struck him. There were some side passages near at hand. It +would be better to explore some of these than bear the weight of the +heavy time in idleness. He took a kite-line from his pocket, tied it to +a projection, and he and Becky started, Tom in the lead, unwinding the +line as he groped along. At the end of twenty steps the corridor ended +in a "jumping-off place." Tom got down on his knees and felt below, and +then as far around the corner as he could reach with his hands +conveniently; he made an effort to stretch yet a little farther to the +right, and at that moment, not twenty yards away, a human hand, holding +a candle, appeared from behind a rock! Tom lifted up a glorious shout, +and instantly that hand was followed by the body it belonged to--Injun +Joe's! Tom was paralyzed; he could not move. He was vastly gratified +the next moment, to see the "Spaniard" take to his heels and get +himself out of sight. Tom wondered that Joe had not recognized his +voice and come over and killed him for testifying in court. But the +echoes must have disguised the voice. Without doubt, that was it, he +reasoned. Tom's fright weakened every muscle in his body. He said to +himself that if he had strength enough to get back to the spring he +would stay there, and nothing should tempt him to run the risk of +meeting Injun Joe again. He was careful to keep from Becky what it was +he had seen. He told her he had only shouted "for luck." + +But hunger and wretchedness rise superior to fears in the long run. +Another tedious wait at the spring and another long sleep brought +changes. The children awoke tortured with a raging hunger. Tom believed +that it must be Wednesday or Thursday or even Friday or Saturday, now, +and that the search had been given over. He proposed to explore another +passage. He felt willing to risk Injun Joe and all other terrors. But +Becky was very weak. She had sunk into a dreary apathy and would not be +roused. She said she would wait, now, where she was, and die--it would +not be long. She told Tom to go with the kite-line and explore if he +chose; but she implored him to come back every little while and speak +to her; and she made him promise that when the awful time came, he +would stay by her and hold her hand until all was over. + +Tom kissed her, with a choking sensation in his throat, and made a +show of being confident of finding the searchers or an escape from the +cave; then he took the kite-line in his hand and went groping down one +of the passages on his hands and knees, distressed with hunger and sick +with bodings of coming doom. + +CHAPTER XXXII + +TUESDAY afternoon came, and waned to the twilight. The village of St. +Petersburg still mourned. The lost children had not been found. Public +prayers had been offered up for them, and many and many a private +prayer that had the petitioner's whole heart in it; but still no good +news came from the cave. The majority of the searchers had given up the +quest and gone back to their daily avocations, saying that it was plain +the children could never be found. Mrs. Thatcher was very ill, and a +great part of the time delirious. People said it was heartbreaking to +hear her call her child, and raise her head and listen a whole minute +at a time, then lay it wearily down again with a moan. Aunt Polly had +drooped into a settled melancholy, and her gray hair had grown almost +white. The village went to its rest on Tuesday night, sad and forlorn. + +Away in the middle of the night a wild peal burst from the village +bells, and in a moment the streets were swarming with frantic half-clad +people, who shouted, "Turn out! turn out! they're found! they're +found!" Tin pans and horns were added to the din, the population massed +itself and moved toward the river, met the children coming in an open +carriage drawn by shouting citizens, thronged around it, joined its +homeward march, and swept magnificently up the main street roaring +huzzah after huzzah! + +The village was illuminated; nobody went to bed again; it was the +greatest night the little town had ever seen. During the first half-hour +a procession of villagers filed through Judge Thatcher's house, seized +the saved ones and kissed them, squeezed Mrs. Thatcher's hand, tried to +speak but couldn't--and drifted out raining tears all over the place. + +Aunt Polly's happiness was complete, and Mrs. Thatcher's nearly so. It +would be complete, however, as soon as the messenger dispatched with +the great news to the cave should get the word to her husband. Tom lay +upon a sofa with an eager auditory about him and told the history of +the wonderful adventure, putting in many striking additions to adorn it +withal; and closed with a description of how he left Becky and went on +an exploring expedition; how he followed two avenues as far as his +kite-line would reach; how he followed a third to the fullest stretch of +the kite-line, and was about to turn back when he glimpsed a far-off +speck that looked like daylight; dropped the line and groped toward it, +pushed his head and shoulders through a small hole, and saw the broad +Mississippi rolling by! And if it had only happened to be night he would +not have seen that speck of daylight and would not have explored that +passage any more! He told how he went back for Becky and broke the good +news and she told him not to fret her with such stuff, for she was +tired, and knew she was going to die, and wanted to. He described how he +labored with her and convinced her; and how she almost died for joy when +she had groped to where she actually saw the blue speck of daylight; how +he pushed his way out at the hole and then helped her out; how they sat +there and cried for gladness; how some men came along in a skiff and Tom +hailed them and told them their situation and their famished condition; +how the men didn't believe the wild tale at first, "because," said they, +"you are five miles down the river below the valley the cave is in" +--then took them aboard, rowed to a house, gave them supper, made them +rest till two or three hours after dark and then brought them home. + +Before day-dawn, Judge Thatcher and the handful of searchers with him +were tracked out, in the cave, by the twine clews they had strung +behind them, and informed of the great news. + +Three days and nights of toil and hunger in the cave were not to be +shaken off at once, as Tom and Becky soon discovered. They were +bedridden all of Wednesday and Thursday, and seemed to grow more and +more tired and worn, all the time. Tom got about, a little, on +Thursday, was down-town Friday, and nearly as whole as ever Saturday; +but Becky did not leave her room until Sunday, and then she looked as +if she had passed through a wasting illness. + +Tom learned of Huck's sickness and went to see him on Friday, but +could not be admitted to the bedroom; neither could he on Saturday or +Sunday. He was admitted daily after that, but was warned to keep still +about his adventure and introduce no exciting topic. The Widow Douglas +stayed by to see that he obeyed. At home Tom learned of the Cardiff +Hill event; also that the "ragged man's" body had eventually been found +in the river near the ferry-landing; he had been drowned while trying +to escape, perhaps. + +About a fortnight after Tom's rescue from the cave, he started off to +visit Huck, who had grown plenty strong enough, now, to hear exciting +talk, and Tom had some that would interest him, he thought. Judge +Thatcher's house was on Tom's way, and he stopped to see Becky. The +Judge and some friends set Tom to talking, and some one asked him +ironically if he wouldn't like to go to the cave again. Tom said he +thought he wouldn't mind it. The Judge said: + +"Well, there are others just like you, Tom, I've not the least doubt. +But we have taken care of that. Nobody will get lost in that cave any +more." + +"Why?" + +"Because I had its big door sheathed with boiler iron two weeks ago, +and triple-locked--and I've got the keys." + +Tom turned as white as a sheet. + +"What's the matter, boy! Here, run, somebody! Fetch a glass of water!" + +The water was brought and thrown into Tom's face. + +"Ah, now you're all right. What was the matter with you, Tom?" + +"Oh, Judge, Injun Joe's in the cave!" + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +WITHIN a few minutes the news had spread, and a dozen skiff-loads of +men were on their way to McDougal's cave, and the ferryboat, well +filled with passengers, soon followed. Tom Sawyer was in the skiff that +bore Judge Thatcher. + +When the cave door was unlocked, a sorrowful sight presented itself in +the dim twilight of the place. Injun Joe lay stretched upon the ground, +dead, with his face close to the crack of the door, as if his longing +eyes had been fixed, to the latest moment, upon the light and the cheer +of the free world outside. Tom was touched, for he knew by his own +experience how this wretch had suffered. His pity was moved, but +nevertheless he felt an abounding sense of relief and security, now, +which revealed to him in a degree which he had not fully appreciated +before how vast a weight of dread had been lying upon him since the day +he lifted his voice against this bloody-minded outcast. + +Injun Joe's bowie-knife lay close by, its blade broken in two. The +great foundation-beam of the door had been chipped and hacked through, +with tedious labor; useless labor, too, it was, for the native rock +formed a sill outside it, and upon that stubborn material the knife had +wrought no effect; the only damage done was to the knife itself. But if +there had been no stony obstruction there the labor would have been +useless still, for if the beam had been wholly cut away Injun Joe could +not have squeezed his body under the door, and he knew it. So he had +only hacked that place in order to be doing something--in order to pass +the weary time--in order to employ his tortured faculties. Ordinarily +one could find half a dozen bits of candle stuck around in the crevices +of this vestibule, left there by tourists; but there were none now. The +prisoner had searched them out and eaten them. He had also contrived to +catch a few bats, and these, also, he had eaten, leaving only their +claws. The poor unfortunate had starved to death. In one place, near at +hand, a stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the ground for ages, +builded by the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had +broken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone, +wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow to catch the precious drop +that fell once in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of a +clock-tick--a dessertspoonful once in four and twenty hours. That drop +was falling when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell; when the +foundations of Rome were laid when Christ was crucified; when the +Conqueror created the British empire; when Columbus sailed; when the +massacre at Lexington was "news." It is falling now; it will still be +falling when all these things shall have sunk down the afternoon of +history, and the twilight of tradition, and been swallowed up in the +thick night of oblivion. Has everything a purpose and a mission? Did +this drop fall patiently during five thousand years to be ready for +this flitting human insect's need? and has it another important object +to accomplish ten thousand years to come? No matter. It is many and +many a year since the hapless half-breed scooped out the stone to catch +the priceless drops, but to this day the tourist stares longest at that +pathetic stone and that slow-dropping water when he comes to see the +wonders of McDougal's cave. Injun Joe's cup stands first in the list of +the cavern's marvels; even "Aladdin's Palace" cannot rival it. + +Injun Joe was buried near the mouth of the cave; and people flocked +there in boats and wagons from the towns and from all the farms and +hamlets for seven miles around; they brought their children, and all +sorts of provisions, and confessed that they had had almost as +satisfactory a time at the funeral as they could have had at the +hanging. + +This funeral stopped the further growth of one thing--the petition to +the governor for Injun Joe's pardon. The petition had been largely +signed; many tearful and eloquent meetings had been held, and a +committee of sappy women been appointed to go in deep mourning and wail +around the governor, and implore him to be a merciful ass and trample +his duty under foot. Injun Joe was believed to have killed five +citizens of the village, but what of that? If he had been Satan himself +there would have been plenty of weaklings ready to scribble their names +to a pardon-petition, and drip a tear on it from their permanently +impaired and leaky water-works. + +The morning after the funeral Tom took Huck to a private place to have +an important talk. Huck had learned all about Tom's adventure from the +Welshman and the Widow Douglas, by this time, but Tom said he reckoned +there was one thing they had not told him; that thing was what he +wanted to talk about now. Huck's face saddened. He said: + +"I know what it is. You got into No. 2 and never found anything but +whiskey. Nobody told me it was you; but I just knowed it must 'a' ben +you, soon as I heard 'bout that whiskey business; and I knowed you +hadn't got the money becuz you'd 'a' got at me some way or other and +told me even if you was mum to everybody else. Tom, something's always +told me we'd never get holt of that swag." + +"Why, Huck, I never told on that tavern-keeper. YOU know his tavern +was all right the Saturday I went to the picnic. Don't you remember you +was to watch there that night?" + +"Oh yes! Why, it seems 'bout a year ago. It was that very night that I +follered Injun Joe to the widder's." + +"YOU followed him?" + +"Yes--but you keep mum. I reckon Injun Joe's left friends behind him, +and I don't want 'em souring on me and doing me mean tricks. If it +hadn't ben for me he'd be down in Texas now, all right." + +Then Huck told his entire adventure in confidence to Tom, who had only +heard of the Welshman's part of it before. + +"Well," said Huck, presently, coming back to the main question, +"whoever nipped the whiskey in No. 2, nipped the money, too, I reckon +--anyways it's a goner for us, Tom." + +"Huck, that money wasn't ever in No. 2!" + +"What!" Huck searched his comrade's face keenly. "Tom, have you got on +the track of that money again?" + +"Huck, it's in the cave!" + +Huck's eyes blazed. + +"Say it again, Tom." + +"The money's in the cave!" + +"Tom--honest injun, now--is it fun, or earnest?" + +"Earnest, Huck--just as earnest as ever I was in my life. Will you go +in there with me and help get it out?" + +"I bet I will! I will if it's where we can blaze our way to it and not +get lost." + +"Huck, we can do that without the least little bit of trouble in the +world." + +"Good as wheat! What makes you think the money's--" + +"Huck, you just wait till we get in there. If we don't find it I'll +agree to give you my drum and every thing I've got in the world. I +will, by jings." + +"All right--it's a whiz. When do you say?" + +"Right now, if you say it. Are you strong enough?" + +"Is it far in the cave? I ben on my pins a little, three or four days, +now, but I can't walk more'n a mile, Tom--least I don't think I could." + +"It's about five mile into there the way anybody but me would go, +Huck, but there's a mighty short cut that they don't anybody but me +know about. Huck, I'll take you right to it in a skiff. I'll float the +skiff down there, and I'll pull it back again all by myself. You +needn't ever turn your hand over." + +"Less start right off, Tom." + +"All right. We want some bread and meat, and our pipes, and a little +bag or two, and two or three kite-strings, and some of these +new-fangled things they call lucifer matches. I tell you, many's +the time I wished I had some when I was in there before." + +A trifle after noon the boys borrowed a small skiff from a citizen who +was absent, and got under way at once. When they were several miles +below "Cave Hollow," Tom said: + +"Now you see this bluff here looks all alike all the way down from the +cave hollow--no houses, no wood-yards, bushes all alike. But do you see +that white place up yonder where there's been a landslide? Well, that's +one of my marks. We'll get ashore, now." + +They landed. + +"Now, Huck, where we're a-standing you could touch that hole I got out +of with a fishing-pole. See if you can find it." + +Huck searched all the place about, and found nothing. Tom proudly +marched into a thick clump of sumach bushes and said: + +"Here you are! Look at it, Huck; it's the snuggest hole in this +country. You just keep mum about it. All along I've been wanting to be +a robber, but I knew I'd got to have a thing like this, and where to +run across it was the bother. We've got it now, and we'll keep it +quiet, only we'll let Joe Harper and Ben Rogers in--because of course +there's got to be a Gang, or else there wouldn't be any style about it. +Tom Sawyer's Gang--it sounds splendid, don't it, Huck?" + +"Well, it just does, Tom. And who'll we rob?" + +"Oh, most anybody. Waylay people--that's mostly the way." + +"And kill them?" + +"No, not always. Hive them in the cave till they raise a ransom." + +"What's a ransom?" + +"Money. You make them raise all they can, off'n their friends; and +after you've kept them a year, if it ain't raised then you kill them. +That's the general way. Only you don't kill the women. You shut up the +women, but you don't kill them. They're always beautiful and rich, and +awfully scared. You take their watches and things, but you always take +your hat off and talk polite. They ain't anybody as polite as robbers +--you'll see that in any book. Well, the women get to loving you, and +after they've been in the cave a week or two weeks they stop crying and +after that you couldn't get them to leave. If you drove them out they'd +turn right around and come back. It's so in all the books." + +"Why, it's real bully, Tom. I believe it's better'n to be a pirate." + +"Yes, it's better in some ways, because it's close to home and +circuses and all that." + +By this time everything was ready and the boys entered the hole, Tom +in the lead. They toiled their way to the farther end of the tunnel, +then made their spliced kite-strings fast and moved on. A few steps +brought them to the spring, and Tom felt a shudder quiver all through +him. He showed Huck the fragment of candle-wick perched on a lump of +clay against the wall, and described how he and Becky had watched the +flame struggle and expire. + +The boys began to quiet down to whispers, now, for the stillness and +gloom of the place oppressed their spirits. They went on, and presently +entered and followed Tom's other corridor until they reached the +"jumping-off place." The candles revealed the fact that it was not +really a precipice, but only a steep clay hill twenty or thirty feet +high. Tom whispered: + +"Now I'll show you something, Huck." + +He held his candle aloft and said: + +"Look as far around the corner as you can. Do you see that? There--on +the big rock over yonder--done with candle-smoke." + +"Tom, it's a CROSS!" + +"NOW where's your Number Two? 'UNDER THE CROSS,' hey? Right yonder's +where I saw Injun Joe poke up his candle, Huck!" + +Huck stared at the mystic sign awhile, and then said with a shaky voice: + +"Tom, less git out of here!" + +"What! and leave the treasure?" + +"Yes--leave it. Injun Joe's ghost is round about there, certain." + +"No it ain't, Huck, no it ain't. It would ha'nt the place where he +died--away out at the mouth of the cave--five mile from here." + +"No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways +of ghosts, and so do you." + +Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in his +mind. But presently an idea occurred to him-- + +"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe's +ghost ain't a going to come around where there's a cross!" + +The point was well taken. It had its effect. + +"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that +cross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box." + +Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended. +Huck followed. Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which the +great rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result. +They found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, with +a pallet of blankets spread down in it; also an old suspender, some +bacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there +was no money-box. The lads searched and researched this place, but in +vain. Tom said: + +"He said UNDER the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the +cross. It can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid on +the ground." + +They searched everywhere once more, and then sat down discouraged. +Huck could suggest nothing. By-and-by Tom said: + +"Lookyhere, Huck, there's footprints and some candle-grease on the +clay about one side of this rock, but not on the other sides. Now, +what's that for? I bet you the money IS under the rock. I'm going to +dig in the clay." + +"That ain't no bad notion, Tom!" said Huck with animation. + +Tom's "real Barlow" was out at once, and he had not dug four inches +before he struck wood. + +"Hey, Huck!--you hear that?" + +Huck began to dig and scratch now. Some boards were soon uncovered and +removed. They had concealed a natural chasm which led under the rock. +Tom got into this and held his candle as far under the rock as he +could, but said he could not see to the end of the rift. He proposed to +explore. He stooped and passed under; the narrow way descended +gradually. He followed its winding course, first to the right, then to +the left, Huck at his heels. Tom turned a short curve, by-and-by, and +exclaimed: + +"My goodness, Huck, lookyhere!" + +It was the treasure-box, sure enough, occupying a snug little cavern, +along with an empty powder-keg, a couple of guns in leather cases, two +or three pairs of old moccasins, a leather belt, and some other rubbish +well soaked with the water-drip. + +"Got it at last!" said Huck, ploughing among the tarnished coins with +his hand. "My, but we're rich, Tom!" + +"Huck, I always reckoned we'd get it. It's just too good to believe, +but we HAVE got it, sure! Say--let's not fool around here. Let's snake +it out. Lemme see if I can lift the box." + +It weighed about fifty pounds. Tom could lift it, after an awkward +fashion, but could not carry it conveniently. + +"I thought so," he said; "THEY carried it like it was heavy, that day +at the ha'nted house. I noticed that. I reckon I was right to think of +fetching the little bags along." + +The money was soon in the bags and the boys took it up to the cross +rock. + +"Now less fetch the guns and things," said Huck. + +"No, Huck--leave them there. They're just the tricks to have when we +go to robbing. We'll keep them there all the time, and we'll hold our +orgies there, too. It's an awful snug place for orgies." + +"What orgies?" + +"I dono. But robbers always have orgies, and of course we've got to +have them, too. Come along, Huck, we've been in here a long time. It's +getting late, I reckon. I'm hungry, too. We'll eat and smoke when we +get to the skiff." + +They presently emerged into the clump of sumach bushes, looked warily +out, found the coast clear, and were soon lunching and smoking in the +skiff. As the sun dipped toward the horizon they pushed out and got +under way. Tom skimmed up the shore through the long twilight, chatting +cheerily with Huck, and landed shortly after dark. + +"Now, Huck," said Tom, "we'll hide the money in the loft of the +widow's woodshed, and I'll come up in the morning and we'll count it +and divide, and then we'll hunt up a place out in the woods for it +where it will be safe. Just you lay quiet here and watch the stuff till +I run and hook Benny Taylor's little wagon; I won't be gone a minute." + +He disappeared, and presently returned with the wagon, put the two +small sacks into it, threw some old rags on top of them, and started +off, dragging his cargo behind him. When the boys reached the +Welshman's house, they stopped to rest. Just as they were about to move +on, the Welshman stepped out and said: + +"Hallo, who's that?" + +"Huck and Tom Sawyer." + +"Good! Come along with me, boys, you are keeping everybody waiting. +Here--hurry up, trot ahead--I'll haul the wagon for you. Why, it's not +as light as it might be. Got bricks in it?--or old metal?" + +"Old metal," said Tom. + +"I judged so; the boys in this town will take more trouble and fool +away more time hunting up six bits' worth of old iron to sell to the +foundry than they would to make twice the money at regular work. But +that's human nature--hurry along, hurry along!" + +The boys wanted to know what the hurry was about. + +"Never mind; you'll see, when we get to the Widow Douglas'." + +Huck said with some apprehension--for he was long used to being +falsely accused: + +"Mr. Jones, we haven't been doing nothing." + +The Welshman laughed. + +"Well, I don't know, Huck, my boy. I don't know about that. Ain't you +and the widow good friends?" + +"Yes. Well, she's ben good friends to me, anyway." + +"All right, then. What do you want to be afraid for?" + +This question was not entirely answered in Huck's slow mind before he +found himself pushed, along with Tom, into Mrs. Douglas' drawing-room. +Mr. Jones left the wagon near the door and followed. + +The place was grandly lighted, and everybody that was of any +consequence in the village was there. The Thatchers were there, the +Harpers, the Rogerses, Aunt Polly, Sid, Mary, the minister, the editor, +and a great many more, and all dressed in their best. The widow +received the boys as heartily as any one could well receive two such +looking beings. They were covered with clay and candle-grease. Aunt +Polly blushed crimson with humiliation, and frowned and shook her head +at Tom. Nobody suffered half as much as the two boys did, however. Mr. +Jones said: + +"Tom wasn't at home, yet, so I gave him up; but I stumbled on him and +Huck right at my door, and so I just brought them along in a hurry." + +"And you did just right," said the widow. "Come with me, boys." + +She took them to a bedchamber and said: + +"Now wash and dress yourselves. Here are two new suits of clothes +--shirts, socks, everything complete. They're Huck's--no, no thanks, +Huck--Mr. Jones bought one and I the other. But they'll fit both of you. +Get into them. We'll wait--come down when you are slicked up enough." + +Then she left. + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +HUCK said: "Tom, we can slope, if we can find a rope. The window ain't +high from the ground." + +"Shucks! what do you want to slope for?" + +"Well, I ain't used to that kind of a crowd. I can't stand it. I ain't +going down there, Tom." + +"Oh, bother! It ain't anything. I don't mind it a bit. I'll take care +of you." + +Sid appeared. + +"Tom," said he, "auntie has been waiting for you all the afternoon. +Mary got your Sunday clothes ready, and everybody's been fretting about +you. Say--ain't this grease and clay, on your clothes?" + +"Now, Mr. Siddy, you jist 'tend to your own business. What's all this +blow-out about, anyway?" + +"It's one of the widow's parties that she's always having. This time +it's for the Welshman and his sons, on account of that scrape they +helped her out of the other night. And say--I can tell you something, +if you want to know." + +"Well, what?" + +"Why, old Mr. Jones is going to try to spring something on the people +here to-night, but I overheard him tell auntie to-day about it, as a +secret, but I reckon it's not much of a secret now. Everybody knows +--the widow, too, for all she tries to let on she don't. Mr. Jones was +bound Huck should be here--couldn't get along with his grand secret +without Huck, you know!" + +"Secret about what, Sid?" + +"About Huck tracking the robbers to the widow's. I reckon Mr. Jones +was going to make a grand time over his surprise, but I bet you it will +drop pretty flat." + +Sid chuckled in a very contented and satisfied way. + +"Sid, was it you that told?" + +"Oh, never mind who it was. SOMEBODY told--that's enough." + +"Sid, there's only one person in this town mean enough to do that, and +that's you. If you had been in Huck's place you'd 'a' sneaked down the +hill and never told anybody on the robbers. You can't do any but mean +things, and you can't bear to see anybody praised for doing good ones. +There--no thanks, as the widow says"--and Tom cuffed Sid's ears and +helped him to the door with several kicks. "Now go and tell auntie if +you dare--and to-morrow you'll catch it!" + +Some minutes later the widow's guests were at the supper-table, and a +dozen children were propped up at little side-tables in the same room, +after the fashion of that country and that day. At the proper time Mr. +Jones made his little speech, in which he thanked the widow for the +honor she was doing himself and his sons, but said that there was +another person whose modesty-- + +And so forth and so on. He sprung his secret about Huck's share in the +adventure in the finest dramatic manner he was master of, but the +surprise it occasioned was largely counterfeit and not as clamorous and +effusive as it might have been under happier circumstances. However, +the widow made a pretty fair show of astonishment, and heaped so many +compliments and so much gratitude upon Huck that he almost forgot the +nearly intolerable discomfort of his new clothes in the entirely +intolerable discomfort of being set up as a target for everybody's gaze +and everybody's laudations. + +The widow said she meant to give Huck a home under her roof and have +him educated; and that when she could spare the money she would start +him in business in a modest way. Tom's chance was come. He said: + +"Huck don't need it. Huck's rich." + +Nothing but a heavy strain upon the good manners of the company kept +back the due and proper complimentary laugh at this pleasant joke. But +the silence was a little awkward. Tom broke it: + +"Huck's got money. Maybe you don't believe it, but he's got lots of +it. Oh, you needn't smile--I reckon I can show you. You just wait a +minute." + +Tom ran out of doors. The company looked at each other with a +perplexed interest--and inquiringly at Huck, who was tongue-tied. + +"Sid, what ails Tom?" said Aunt Polly. "He--well, there ain't ever any +making of that boy out. I never--" + +Tom entered, struggling with the weight of his sacks, and Aunt Polly +did not finish her sentence. Tom poured the mass of yellow coin upon +the table and said: + +"There--what did I tell you? Half of it's Huck's and half of it's mine!" + +The spectacle took the general breath away. All gazed, nobody spoke +for a moment. Then there was a unanimous call for an explanation. Tom +said he could furnish it, and he did. The tale was long, but brimful of +interest. There was scarcely an interruption from any one to break the +charm of its flow. When he had finished, Mr. Jones said: + +"I thought I had fixed up a little surprise for this occasion, but it +don't amount to anything now. This one makes it sing mighty small, I'm +willing to allow." + +The money was counted. The sum amounted to a little over twelve +thousand dollars. It was more than any one present had ever seen at one +time before, though several persons were there who were worth +considerably more than that in property. + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE reader may rest satisfied that Tom's and Huck's windfall made a +mighty stir in the poor little village of St. Petersburg. So vast a +sum, all in actual cash, seemed next to incredible. It was talked +about, gloated over, glorified, until the reason of many of the +citizens tottered under the strain of the unhealthy excitement. Every +"haunted" house in St. Petersburg and the neighboring villages was +dissected, plank by plank, and its foundations dug up and ransacked for +hidden treasure--and not by boys, but men--pretty grave, unromantic +men, too, some of them. Wherever Tom and Huck appeared they were +courted, admired, stared at. The boys were not able to remember that +their remarks had possessed weight before; but now their sayings were +treasured and repeated; everything they did seemed somehow to be +regarded as remarkable; they had evidently lost the power of doing and +saying commonplace things; moreover, their past history was raked up +and discovered to bear marks of conspicuous originality. The village +paper published biographical sketches of the boys. + +The Widow Douglas put Huck's money out at six per cent., and Judge +Thatcher did the same with Tom's at Aunt Polly's request. Each lad had +an income, now, that was simply prodigious--a dollar for every week-day +in the year and half of the Sundays. It was just what the minister got +--no, it was what he was promised--he generally couldn't collect it. A +dollar and a quarter a week would board, lodge, and school a boy in +those old simple days--and clothe him and wash him, too, for that +matter. + +Judge Thatcher had conceived a great opinion of Tom. He said that no +commonplace boy would ever have got his daughter out of the cave. When +Becky told her father, in strict confidence, how Tom had taken her +whipping at school, the Judge was visibly moved; and when she pleaded +grace for the mighty lie which Tom had told in order to shift that +whipping from her shoulders to his own, the Judge said with a fine +outburst that it was a noble, a generous, a magnanimous lie--a lie that +was worthy to hold up its head and march down through history breast to +breast with George Washington's lauded Truth about the hatchet! Becky +thought her father had never looked so tall and so superb as when he +walked the floor and stamped his foot and said that. She went straight +off and told Tom about it. + +Judge Thatcher hoped to see Tom a great lawyer or a great soldier some +day. He said he meant to look to it that Tom should be admitted to the +National Military Academy and afterward trained in the best law school +in the country, in order that he might be ready for either career or +both. + +Huck Finn's wealth and the fact that he was now under the Widow +Douglas' protection introduced him into society--no, dragged him into +it, hurled him into it--and his sufferings were almost more than he +could bear. The widow's servants kept him clean and neat, combed and +brushed, and they bedded him nightly in unsympathetic sheets that had +not one little spot or stain which he could press to his heart and know +for a friend. He had to eat with a knife and fork; he had to use +napkin, cup, and plate; he had to learn his book, he had to go to +church; he had to talk so properly that speech was become insipid in +his mouth; whithersoever he turned, the bars and shackles of +civilization shut him in and bound him hand and foot. + +He bravely bore his miseries three weeks, and then one day turned up +missing. For forty-eight hours the widow hunted for him everywhere in +great distress. The public were profoundly concerned; they searched +high and low, they dragged the river for his body. Early the third +morning Tom Sawyer wisely went poking among some old empty hogsheads +down behind the abandoned slaughter-house, and in one of them he found +the refugee. Huck had slept there; he had just breakfasted upon some +stolen odds and ends of food, and was lying off, now, in comfort, with +his pipe. He was unkempt, uncombed, and clad in the same old ruin of +rags that had made him picturesque in the days when he was free and +happy. Tom routed him out, told him the trouble he had been causing, +and urged him to go home. Huck's face lost its tranquil content, and +took a melancholy cast. He said: + +"Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work; it don't +work, Tom. It ain't for me; I ain't used to it. The widder's good to +me, and friendly; but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up just +at the same time every morning; she makes me wash, they comb me all to +thunder; she won't let me sleep in the woodshed; I got to wear them +blamed clothes that just smothers me, Tom; they don't seem to any air +git through 'em, somehow; and they're so rotten nice that I can't set +down, nor lay down, nor roll around anywher's; I hain't slid on a +cellar-door for--well, it 'pears to be years; I got to go to church and +sweat and sweat--I hate them ornery sermons! I can't ketch a fly in +there, I can't chaw. I got to wear shoes all Sunday. The widder eats by +a bell; she goes to bed by a bell; she gits up by a bell--everything's +so awful reg'lar a body can't stand it." + +"Well, everybody does that way, Huck." + +"Tom, it don't make no difference. I ain't everybody, and I can't +STAND it. It's awful to be tied up so. And grub comes too easy--I don't +take no interest in vittles, that way. I got to ask to go a-fishing; I +got to ask to go in a-swimming--dern'd if I hain't got to ask to do +everything. Well, I'd got to talk so nice it wasn't no comfort--I'd got +to go up in the attic and rip out awhile, every day, to git a taste in +my mouth, or I'd a died, Tom. The widder wouldn't let me smoke; she +wouldn't let me yell, she wouldn't let me gape, nor stretch, nor +scratch, before folks--" [Then with a spasm of special irritation and +injury]--"And dad fetch it, she prayed all the time! I never see such a +woman! I HAD to shove, Tom--I just had to. And besides, that school's +going to open, and I'd a had to go to it--well, I wouldn't stand THAT, +Tom. Looky here, Tom, being rich ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's +just worry and worry, and sweat and sweat, and a-wishing you was dead +all the time. Now these clothes suits me, and this bar'l suits me, and +I ain't ever going to shake 'em any more. Tom, I wouldn't ever got into +all this trouble if it hadn't 'a' ben for that money; now you just take +my sheer of it along with your'n, and gimme a ten-center sometimes--not +many times, becuz I don't give a dern for a thing 'thout it's tollable +hard to git--and you go and beg off for me with the widder." + +"Oh, Huck, you know I can't do that. 'Tain't fair; and besides if +you'll try this thing just a while longer you'll come to like it." + +"Like it! Yes--the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long +enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussed +smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and +I'll stick to 'em, too. Blame it all! just as we'd got guns, and a +cave, and all just fixed to rob, here this dern foolishness has got to +come up and spile it all!" + +Tom saw his opportunity-- + +"Lookyhere, Huck, being rich ain't going to keep me back from turning +robber." + +"No! Oh, good-licks; are you in real dead-wood earnest, Tom?" + +"Just as dead earnest as I'm sitting here. But Huck, we can't let you +into the gang if you ain't respectable, you know." + +Huck's joy was quenched. + +"Can't let me in, Tom? Didn't you let me go for a pirate?" + +"Yes, but that's different. A robber is more high-toned than what a +pirate is--as a general thing. In most countries they're awful high up +in the nobility--dukes and such." + +"Now, Tom, hain't you always ben friendly to me? You wouldn't shet me +out, would you, Tom? You wouldn't do that, now, WOULD you, Tom?" + +"Huck, I wouldn't want to, and I DON'T want to--but what would people +say? Why, they'd say, 'Mph! Tom Sawyer's Gang! pretty low characters in +it!' They'd mean you, Huck. You wouldn't like that, and I wouldn't." + +Huck was silent for some time, engaged in a mental struggle. Finally +he said: + +"Well, I'll go back to the widder for a month and tackle it and see if +I can come to stand it, if you'll let me b'long to the gang, Tom." + +"All right, Huck, it's a whiz! Come along, old chap, and I'll ask the +widow to let up on you a little, Huck." + +"Will you, Tom--now will you? That's good. If she'll let up on some of +the roughest things, I'll smoke private and cuss private, and crowd +through or bust. When you going to start the gang and turn robbers?" + +"Oh, right off. We'll get the boys together and have the initiation +to-night, maybe." + +"Have the which?" + +"Have the initiation." + +"What's that?" + +"It's to swear to stand by one another, and never tell the gang's +secrets, even if you're chopped all to flinders, and kill anybody and +all his family that hurts one of the gang." + +"That's gay--that's mighty gay, Tom, I tell you." + +"Well, I bet it is. And all that swearing's got to be done at +midnight, in the lonesomest, awfulest place you can find--a ha'nted +house is the best, but they're all ripped up now." + +"Well, midnight's good, anyway, Tom." + +"Yes, so it is. And you've got to swear on a coffin, and sign it with +blood." + +"Now, that's something LIKE! Why, it's a million times bullier than +pirating. I'll stick to the widder till I rot, Tom; and if I git to be +a reg'lar ripper of a robber, and everybody talking 'bout it, I reckon +she'll be proud she snaked me in out of the wet." + +CONCLUSION + +SO endeth this chronicle. It being strictly a history of a BOY, it +must stop here; the story could not go much further without becoming +the history of a MAN. When one writes a novel about grown people, he +knows exactly where to stop--that is, with a marriage; but when he +writes of juveniles, he must stop where he best can. + +Most of the characters that perform in this book still live, and are +prosperous and happy. Some day it may seem worth while to take up the +story of the younger ones again and see what sort of men and women they +turned out to be; therefore it will be wisest not to reveal any of that +part of their lives at present. + diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/US-Constitution.txt b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/US-Constitution.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dec5f77 --- /dev/null +++ b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/US-Constitution.txt @@ -0,0 +1,323 @@ +We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. + +Article. I. + +Section. 1. + +All legislative Powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives. + +Section. 2. + +The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members chosen every second Year by the People of the several States, and the Electors in each State shall have the Qualifications requisite for Electors of the most numerous Branch of the State Legislature. No Person shall be a Representative who shall not have attained to the Age of twenty five Years, and been seven Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State in which he shall be chosen. Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons. The actual Enumeration shall be made within three Years after the first Meeting of the Congress of the United States, and within every subsequent Term of ten Years, in such Manner as they shall by Law direct. The Number of Representatives shall not exceed one for every thirty Thousand, but each State shall have at Least one Representative; and until such enumeration shall be made, the State of New Hampshire shall be entitled to chuse three, Massachusetts eight, Rhode-Island and Providence Plantations one, Connecticut five, New-York six, New Jersey four, Pennsylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia ten, North Carolina five, South Carolina five, and Georgia three. When vacancies happen in the Representation from any State, the Executive Authority thereof shall issue Writs of Election to fill such Vacancies. The House of Representatives shall chuse their Speaker and other Officers; and shall have the sole Power of Impeachment. + +Section. 3. + +The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, chosen by the Legislature thereof for six Years; and each Senator shall have one Vote. Immediately after they shall be assembled in Consequence of the first Election, they shall be divided as equally as may be into three Classes. The Seats of the Senators of the first Class shall be vacated at the Expiration of the second Year, of the second Class at the Expiration of the fourth Year, and of the third Class at the Expiration of the sixth Year, so that one third may be chosen every second Year; and if Vacancies happen by Resignation, or otherwise, during the Recess of the Legislature of any State, the Executive thereof may make temporary Appointments until the next Meeting of the Legislature, which shall then fill such Vacancies. No Person shall be a Senator who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty Years, and been nine Years a Citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an Inhabitant of that State for which he shall be chosen. The Vice President of the United States shall be President of the Senate, but shall have no Vote, unless they be equally divided. The Senate shall chuse their other Officers, and also a President pro tempore, in the Absence of the Vice President, or when he shall exercise the Office of President of the United States. The Senate shall have the sole Power to try all Impeachments. When sitting for that Purpose, they shall be on Oath or Affirmation. When the President of the United States is tried, the Chief Justice shall preside: And no Person shall be convicted without the Concurrence of two thirds of the Members present. Judgment in Cases of Impeachment shall not extend further than to removal from Office, and disqualification to hold and enjoy any Office of honor, Trust or Profit under the United States: but the Party convicted shall nevertheless be liable and subject to Indictment, Trial, Judgment and Punishment, according to Law. + +Section. 4. + +The Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections for Senators and Representatives, shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof; but the Congress may at any time by Law make or alter such Regulations, except as to the Places of chusing Senators. The Congress shall assemble at least once in every Year, and such Meeting shall be on the first Monday in December, unless they shall by Law appoint a different Day. + +Section. 5. + +Each House shall be the Judge of the Elections, Returns and Qualifications of its own Members, and a Majority of each shall constitute a Quorum to do Business; but a smaller Number may adjourn from day to day, and may be authorized to compel the Attendance of absent Members, in such Manner, and under such Penalties as each House may provide. Each House may determine the Rules of its Proceedings, punish its Members for disorderly Behaviour, and, with the Concurrence of two thirds, expel a Member. Each House shall keep a Journal of its Proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, excepting such Parts as may in their Judgment require Secrecy; and the Yeas and Nays of the Members of either House on any question shall, at the Desire of one fifth of those Present, be entered on the Journal. Neither House, during the Session of Congress, shall, without the Consent of the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to any other Place than that in which the two Houses shall be sitting. + +Section. 6. + +The Senators and Representatives shall receive a Compensation for their Services, to be ascertained by Law, and paid out of the Treasury of the United States. They shall in all Cases, except Treason, Felony and Breach of the Peace, be privileged from Arrest during their Attendance at the Session of their respective Houses, and in going to and returning from the same; and for any Speech or Debate in either House, they shall not be questioned in any other Place. No Senator or Representative shall, during the Time for which he was elected, be appointed to any civil Office under the Authority of the United States, which shall have been created, or the Emoluments whereof shall have been encreased during such time; and no Person holding any Office under the United States, shall be a Member of either House during his Continuance in Office. + +Section. 7. + +All Bills for raising Revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives; but the Senate may propose or concur with Amendments as on other Bills. Every Bill which shall have passed the House of Representatives and the Senate, shall, before it become a Law, be presented to the President of the United States: If he approve he shall sign it, but if not he shall return it, with his Objections to that House in which it shall have originated, who shall enter the Objections at large on their Journal, and proceed to reconsider it. If after such Reconsideration two thirds of that House shall agree to pass the Bill, it shall be sent, together with the Objections, to the other House, by which it shall likewise be reconsidered, and if approved by two thirds of that House, it shall become a Law. But in all such Cases the Votes of both Houses shall be determined by yeas and Nays, and the Names of the Persons voting for and against the Bill shall be entered on the Journal of each House respectively. If any Bill shall not be returned by the President within ten Days (Sundays excepted) after it shall have been presented to him, the Same shall be a Law, in like Manner as if he had signed it, unless the Congress by their Adjournment prevent its Return, in which Case it shall not be a Law. Every Order, Resolution, or Vote to which the Concurrence of the Senate and House of Representatives may be necessary (except on a question of Adjournment) shall be presented to the President of the United States; and before the Same shall take Effect, shall be approved by him, or being disapproved by him, shall be repassed by two thirds of the Senate and House of Representatives, according to the Rules and Limitations prescribed in the Case of a Bill. + +Section. 8. + +The Congress shall have Power To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States; but all Duties, Imposts and Excises shall be uniform throughout the United States; To borrow Money on the credit of the United States; To regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes; To establish an uniform Rule of Naturalization, and uniform Laws on the subject of Bankruptcies throughout the United States; To coin Money, regulate the Value thereof, and of foreign Coin, and fix the Standard of Weights and Measures; To provide for the Punishment of counterfeiting the Securities and current Coin of the United States; To establish Post Offices and post Roads; To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries; To constitute Tribunals inferior to the supreme Court; To define and punish Piracies and Felonies committed on the high Seas, and Offences against the Law of Nations; To declare War, grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal, and make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water; To raise and support Armies, but no Appropriation of Money to that Use shall be for a longer Term than two Years; To provide and maintain a Navy; To make Rules for the Government and Regulation of the land and naval Forces; To provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions; To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining, the Militia, and for governing such Part of them as may be employed in the Service of the United States, reserving to the States respectively, the Appointment of the Officers, and the Authority of training the Militia according to the discipline prescribed by Congress; To exercise exclusive Legislation in all Cases whatsoever, over such District (not exceeding ten Miles square) as may, by Cession of particular States, and the Acceptance of Congress, become the Seat of the Government of the United States, and to exercise like Authority over all Places purchased by the Consent of the Legislature of the State in which the Same shall be, for the Erection of Forts, Magazines, Arsenals, dock-Yards, and other needful Buildings;--And To make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into Execution the foregoing Powers, and all other Powers vested by this Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any Department or Officer thereof. + +Section. 9. + +The Migration or Importation of such Persons as any of the States now existing shall think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to the Year one thousand eight hundred and eight, but a Tax or duty may be imposed on such Importation, not exceeding ten dollars for each Person. The Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus shall not be suspended, unless when in Cases of Rebellion or Invasion the public Safety may require it. No Bill of Attainder or ex post facto Law shall be passed. No Capitation, or other direct, Tax shall be laid, unless in Proportion to the Census or enumeration herein before directed to be taken. No Tax or Duty shall be laid on Articles exported from any State. No Preference shall be given by any Regulation of Commerce or Revenue to the Ports of one State over those of another; nor shall Vessels bound to, or from, one State, be obliged to enter, clear, or pay Duties in another. No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by Law; and a regular Statement and Account of the Receipts and Expenditures of all public Money shall be published from time to time. No Title of Nobility shall be granted by the United States: And no Person holding any Office of Profit or Trust under them, shall, without the Consent of the Congress, accept of any present, Emolument, Office, or Title, of any kind whatever, from any King, Prince, or foreign State. + +Section. 10. + +No State shall enter into any Treaty, Alliance, or Confederation; grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal; coin Money; emit Bills of Credit; make any Thing but gold and silver Coin a Tender in Payment of Debts; pass any Bill of Attainder, ex post facto Law, or Law impairing the Obligation of Contracts, or grant any Title of Nobility. No State shall, without the Consent of the Congress, lay any Imposts or Duties on Imports or Exports, except what may be absolutely necessary for executing it's inspection Laws: and the net Produce of all Duties and Imposts, laid by any State on Imports or Exports, shall be for the Use of the Treasury of the United States; and all such Laws shall be subject to the Revision and Controul of the Congress. No State shall, without the Consent of Congress, lay any Duty of Tonnage, keep Troops, or Ships of War in time of Peace, enter into any Agreement or Compact with another State, or with a foreign Power, or engage in War, unless actually invaded, or in such imminent Danger as will not admit of delay. + +Article. II. + +Section. 1. + +The executive Power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America. He shall hold his Office during the Term of four Years, and, together with the Vice President, chosen for the same Term, be elected, as follows: Each State shall appoint, in such Manner as the Legislature thereof may direct, a Number of Electors, equal to the whole Number of Senators and Representatives to which the State may be entitled in the Congress: but no Senator or Representative, or Person holding an Office of Trust or Profit under the United States, shall be appointed an Elector. The Electors shall meet in their respective States, and vote by Ballot for two Persons, of whom one at least shall not be an Inhabitant of the same State with themselves. And they shall make a List of all the Persons voted for, and of the Number of Votes for each; which List they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the Seat of the Government of the United States, directed to the President of the Senate. The President of the Senate shall, in the Presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the Certificates, and the Votes shall then be counted. The Person having the greatest Number of Votes shall be the President, if such Number be a Majority of the whole Number of Electors appointed; and if there be more than one who have such Majority, and have an equal Number of Votes, then the House of Representatives shall immediately chuse by Ballot one of them for President; and if no Person have a Majority, then from the five highest on the List the said House shall in like Manner chuse the President. But in chusing the President, the Votes shall be taken by States, the Representation from each State having one Vote; A quorum for this purpose shall consist of a Member or Members from two thirds of the States, and a Majority of all the States shall be necessary to a Choice. In every Case, after the Choice of the President, the Person having the greatest Number of Votes of the Electors shall be the Vice President. But if there should remain two or more who have equal Votes, the Senate shall chuse from them by Ballot the Vice President. The Congress may determine the Time of chusing the Electors, and the Day on which they shall give their Votes; which Day shall be the same throughout the United States. No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States. In Case of the Removal of the President from Office, or of his Death, Resignation, or Inability to discharge the Powers and Duties of the said Office, the Same shall devolve on the Vice President, and the Congress may by Law provide for the Case of Removal, Death, Resignation or Inability, both of the President and Vice President, declaring what Officer shall then act as President, and such Officer shall act accordingly, until the Disability be removed, or a President shall be elected. The President shall, at stated Times, receive for his Services, a Compensation, which shall neither be increased nor diminished during the Period for which he shall have been elected, and he shall not receive within that Period any other Emolument from the United States, or any of them. Before he enter on the Execution of his Office, he shall take the following Oath or Affirmation:--"I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." + +Section. 2. + +The President shall be Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States, and of the Militia of the several States, when called into the actual Service of the United States; he may require the Opinion, in writing, of the principal Officer in each of the executive Departments, upon any Subject relating to the Duties of their respective Offices, and he shall have Power to grant Reprieves and Pardons for Offences against the United States, except in Cases of Impeachment. He shall have Power, by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, to make Treaties, provided two thirds of the Senators present concur; and he shall nominate, and by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate, shall appoint Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, Judges of the supreme Court, and all other Officers of the United States, whose Appointments are not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by Law: but the Congress may by Law vest the Appointment of such inferior Officers, as they think proper, in the President alone, in the Courts of Law, or in the Heads of Departments. The President shall have Power to fill up all Vacancies that may happen during the Recess of the Senate, by granting Commissions which shall expire at the End of their next Session. + +Section. 3. + +He shall from time to time give to the Congress Information of the State of the Union, and recommend to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient; he may, on extraordinary Occasions, convene both Houses, or either of them, and in Case of Disagreement between them, with Respect to the Time of Adjournment, he may adjourn them to such Time as he shall think proper; he shall receive Ambassadors and other public Ministers; he shall take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed, and shall Commission all the Officers of the United States. + +Section. 4. + +The President, Vice President and all civil Officers of the United States, shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for, and Conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors. + +Article III. + +Section. 1. + +The judicial Power of the United States shall be vested in one supreme Court, and in such inferior Courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish. The Judges, both of the supreme and inferior Courts, shall hold their Offices during good Behaviour, and shall, at stated Times, receive for their Services a Compensation, which shall not be diminished during their Continuance in Office. + +Section. 2. + +The judicial Power shall extend to all Cases, in Law and Equity, arising under this Constitution, the Laws of the United States, and Treaties made, or which shall be made, under their Authority;--to all Cases affecting Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls;--to all Cases of admiralty and maritime Jurisdiction;--to Controversies to which the United States shall be a Party;--to Controversies between two or more States;-- between a State and Citizens of another State;--between Citizens of different States;--between Citizens of the same State claiming Lands under Grants of different States, and between a State, or the Citizens thereof, and foreign States, Citizens or Subjects. In all Cases affecting Ambassadors, other public Ministers and Consuls, and those in which a State shall be Party, the supreme Court shall have original Jurisdiction. In all the other Cases before mentioned, the supreme Court shall have appellate Jurisdiction, both as to Law and Fact, with such Exceptions, and under such Regulations as the Congress shall make. The Trial of all Crimes, except in Cases of Impeachment, shall be by Jury; and such Trial shall be held in the State where the said Crimes shall have been committed; but when not committed within any State, the Trial shall be at such Place or Places as the Congress may by Law have directed. + +Section. 3. + +Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying War against them, or in adhering to their Enemies, giving them Aid and Comfort. No Person shall be convicted of Treason unless on the Testimony of two Witnesses to the same overt Act, or on Confession in open Court. The Congress shall have Power to declare the Punishment of Treason, but no Attainder of Treason shall work Corruption of Blood, or Forfeiture except during the Life of the Person attainted. + +Article. IV. + +Section. 1. + +Full Faith and Credit shall be given in each State to the public Acts, Records, and judicial Proceedings of every other State. And the Congress may by general Laws prescribe the Manner in which such Acts, Records and Proceedings shall be proved, and the Effect thereof. + +Section. 2. + +The Citizens of each State shall be entitled to all Privileges and Immunities of Citizens in the several States. A Person charged in any State with Treason, Felony, or other Crime, who shall flee from Justice, and be found in another State, shall on Demand of the executive Authority of the State from which he fled, be delivered up, to be removed to the State having Jurisdiction of the Crime. No Person held to Service or Labour in one State, under the Laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in Consequence of any Law or Regulation therein, be discharged from such Service or Labour, but shall be delivered up on Claim of the Party to whom such Service or Labour may be due. + +Section. 3. + +New States may be admitted by the Congress into this Union; but no new State shall be formed or erected within the Jurisdiction of any other State; nor any State be formed by the Junction of two or more States, or Parts of States, without the Consent of the Legislatures of the States concerned as well as of the Congress. The Congress shall have Power to dispose of and make all needful Rules and Regulations respecting the Territory or other Property belonging to the United States; and nothing in this Constitution shall be so construed as to Prejudice any Claims of the United States, or of any particular State. + +Section. 4. + +The United States shall guarantee to every State in this Union a Republican Form of Government, and shall protect each of them against Invasion; and on Application of the Legislature, or of the Executive (when the Legislature cannot be convened), against domestic Violence. + +Article. V. + +The Congress, whenever two thirds of both Houses shall deem it necessary, shall propose Amendments to this Constitution, or, on the Application of the Legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a Convention for proposing Amendments, which, in either Case, shall be valid to all Intents and Purposes, as Part of this Constitution, when ratified by the Legislatures of three fourths of the several States, or by Conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other Mode of Ratification may be proposed by the Congress; Provided that no Amendment which may be made prior to the Year One thousand eight hundred and eight shall in any Manner affect the first and fourth Clauses in the Ninth Section of the first Article; and that no State, without its Consent, shall be deprived of its equal Suffrage in the Senate. + +Article. VI. + +All Debts contracted and Engagements entered into, before the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be as valid against the United States under this Constitution, as under the Confederation. This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made, under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding. The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States. + +Article. VII. + +The Ratification of the Conventions of nine States, shall be sufficient for the Establishment of this Constitution between the States so ratifying the Same. + +Amendment I + +Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. + +Amendment II + +A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed. + +Amendment III + +No Soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the Owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law. + +Amendment IV + +The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized. + +Amendment V + +No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation. + +Amendment VI + +In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence. + +Amendment VII + +In Suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury, shall be otherwise re-examined in any Court of the United States, than according to the rules of the common law. + +Amendment VIII + +Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted. + +Amendment IX + +The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people. + +Amendment X + +The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people. + +AMENDMENT XI + +The Judicial power of the United States shall not be construed to extend to any suit in law or equity, commenced or prosecuted against one of the United States by Citizens of another State, or by Citizens or Subjects of any Foreign State. + +AMENDMENT XII + +The Electors shall meet in their respective states and vote by ballot for President and Vice-President, one of whom, at least, shall not be an inhabitant of the same state with themselves; they shall name in their ballots the person voted for as President, and in distinct ballots the person voted for as Vice-President, and they shall make distinct lists of all persons voted for as President, and of all persons voted for as Vice-President, and of the number of votes for each, which lists they shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the seat of the government of the United States, directed to the President of the Senate; -- the President of the Senate shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, open all the certificates and the votes shall then be counted; -- The person having the greatest number of votes for President, shall be the President, if such number be a majority of the whole number of Electors appointed; and if no person have such majority, then from the persons having the highest numbers not exceeding three on the list of those voted for as President, the House of Representatives shall choose immediately, by ballot, the President. But in choosing the President, the votes shall be taken by states, the representation from each state having one vote; a quorum for this purpose shall consist of a member or members from two-thirds of the states, and a majority of all the states shall be necessary to a choice. And if the House of Representatives shall not choose a President whenever the right of choice shall devolve upon them, before the fourth day of March next following, then the Vice-President shall act as President, as in case of the death or other constitutional disability of the President. -- The person having the greatest number of votes as Vice-President, shall be the Vice-President, if such number be a majority of the whole number of Electors appointed, and if no person have a majority, then from the two highest numbers on the list, the Senate shall choose the Vice-President; a quorum for the purpose shall consist of two-thirds of the whole number of Senators, and a majority of the whole number shall be necessary to a choice. But no person constitutionally ineligible to the office of President shall be eligible to that of Vice-President of the United States. + +AMENDMENT XIII + +Section 1. + +Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction. + +Section 2. + +Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation. + +AMENDMENT XIV + +Section 1. + +All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws. + +Section 2. + +Representatives shall be apportioned among the several States according to their respective numbers, counting the whole number of persons in each State, excluding Indians not taxed. But when the right to vote at any election for the choice of electors for President and Vice-President of the United States, Representatives in Congress, the Executive and Judicial officers of a State, or the members of the Legislature thereof, is denied to any of the male inhabitants of such State, being twenty-one years of age, and citizens of the United States, or in any way abridged, except for participation in rebellion, or other crime, the basis of representation therein shall be reduced in the proportion which the number of such male citizens shall bear to the whole number of male citizens twenty-one years of age in such State. + +Section 3. + +No person shall be a Senator or Representative in Congress, or elector of President and Vice-President, or hold any office, civil or military, under the United States, or under any State, who, having previously taken an oath, as a member of Congress, or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any State legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer of any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the same, or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof. But Congress may by a vote of two-thirds of each House, remove such disability. + +Section 4. + +The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, including debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or rebellion, shall not be questioned. But neither the United States nor any State shall assume or pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States, or any claim for the loss or emancipation of any slave; but all such debts, obligations and claims shall be held illegal and void. + +Section 5. + +The Congress shall have the power to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article. + +AMENDMENT XV + +Section 1. + +The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude-- + +Section 2. + +The Congress shall have the power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation. + +AMENDMENT XVI + +The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several States, and without regard to any census or enumeration. + +AMENDMENT XVII + +The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, elected by the people thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one vote. The electors in each State shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the State legislatures. When vacancies happen in the representation of any State in the Senate, the executive authority of such State shall issue writs of election to fill such vacancies: Provided, That the legislature of any State may empower the executive thereof to make temporary appointments until the people fill the vacancies by election as the legislature may direct. This amendment shall not be so construed as to affect the election or term of any Senator chosen before it becomes valid as part of the Constitution. + +AMENDMENT XVIII + +Section 1. + +After one year from the ratification of this article the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes is hereby prohibited. + +Section 2. + +The Congress and the several States shall have concurrent power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation. + +Section 3. + +This article shall be inoperative unless it shall have been ratified as an amendment to the Constitution by the legislatures of the several States, as provided in the Constitution, within seven years from the date of the submission hereof to the States by the Congress. + +AMENDMENT XIX + +The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation. + +AMENDMENT XX + +Section 1. + +The terms of the President and the Vice President shall end at noon on the 20th day of January, and the terms of Senators and Representatives at noon on the 3d day of January, of the years in which such terms would have ended if this article had not been ratified; and the terms of their successors shall then begin. + +Section 2. + +The Congress shall assemble at least once in every year, and such meeting shall begin at noon on the 3d day of January, unless they shall by law appoint a different day. + +Section 3. + +If, at the time fixed for the beginning of the term of the President, the President elect shall have died, the Vice President elect shall become President. If a President shall not have been chosen before the time fixed for the beginning of his term, or if the President elect shall have failed to qualify, then the Vice President elect shall act as President until a President shall have qualified; and the Congress may by law provide for the case wherein neither a President elect nor a Vice President shall have qualified, declaring who shall then act as President, or the manner in which one who is to act shall be selected, and such person shall act accordingly until a President or Vice President shall have qualified. + +Section 4. + +The Congress may by law provide for the case of the death of any of the persons from whom the House of Representatives may choose a President whenever the right of choice shall have devolved upon them, and for the case of the death of any of the persons from whom the Senate may choose a Vice President whenever the right of choice shall have devolved upon them. + +Section 5. + +Sections 1 and 2 shall take effect on the 15th day of October following the ratification of this article. + +Section 6. + +This article shall be inoperative unless it shall have been ratified as an amendment to the Constitution by the legislatures of three-fourths of the several States within seven years from the date of its submission. + +AMENDMENT XXI + +Section 1. + +The eighteenth article of amendment to the Constitution of the United States is hereby repealed. + +Section 2. + +The transportation or importation into any State, Territory, or Possession of the United States for delivery or use therein of intoxicating liquors, in violation of the laws thereof, is hereby prohibited. + +Section 3. + +This article shall be inoperative unless it shall have been ratified as an amendment to the Constitution by conventions in the several States, as provided in the Constitution, within seven years from the date of the submission hereof to the States by the Congress. + +AMENDMENT XXII + +Section 1. + +No person shall be elected to the office of the President more than twice, and no person who has held the office of President, or acted as President, for more than two years of a term to which some other person was elected President shall be elected to the office of President more than once. But this Article shall not apply to any person holding the office of President when this Article was proposed by Congress, and shall not prevent any person who may be holding the office of President, or acting as President, during the term within which this Article becomes operative from holding the office of President or acting as President during the remainder of such term. + +Section 2. + +This article shall be inoperative unless it shall have been ratified as an amendment to the Constitution by the legislatures of three-fourths of the several States within seven years from the date of its submission to the States by the Congress. + +AMENDMENT XXIII + +Section 1. + +The District constituting the seat of Government of the United States shall appoint in such manner as Congress may direct: A number of electors of President and Vice President equal to the whole number of Senators and Representatives in Congress to which the District would be entitled if it were a State, but in no event more than the least populous State; they shall be in addition to those appointed by the States, but they shall be considered, for the purposes of the election of President and Vice President, to be electors appointed by a State; and they shall meet in the District and perform such duties as provided by the twelfth article of amendment. + +Section 2. + +The Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation. + +AMENDMENT XXIV + +Section 1. + +The right of citizens of the United States to vote in any primary or other election for President or Vice President, for electors for President or Vice President, or for Senator or Representative in Congress, shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or any State by reason of failure to pay poll tax or other tax. + +Section 2. + +The Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation. + +AMENDMENT XXV + +Section 1. + +In case of the removal of the President from office or of his death or resignation, the Vice President shall become President. + +Section 2. + +Whenever there is a vacancy in the office of the Vice President, the President shall nominate a Vice President who shall take office upon confirmation by a majority vote of both Houses of Congress. + +Section 3. + +Whenever the President transmits to the President pro tempore of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives his written declaration that he is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office, and until he transmits to them a written declaration to the contrary, such powers and duties shall be discharged by the Vice President as Acting President. + +Section 4. + +Whenever the Vice President and a majority of either the principal officers of the executive departments or of such other body as Congress may by law provide, transmit to the President pro tempore of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives their written declaration that the President is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office, the Vice President shall immediately assume the powers and duties of the office as Acting President. Thereafter, when the President transmits to the President pro tempore of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives his written declaration that no inability exists, he shall resume the powers and duties of his office unless the Vice President and a majority of either the principal officers of the executive department or of such other body as Congress may by law provide, transmit within four days to the President pro tempore of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives their written declaration that the President is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office. Thereupon Congress shall decide the issue, assembling within forty-eight hours for that purpose if not in session. If the Congress, within twenty-one days after receipt of the latter written declaration, or, if Congress is not in session, within twenty-one days after Congress is required to assemble, determines by two-thirds vote of both Houses that the President is unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office, the Vice President shall continue to discharge the same as Acting President; otherwise, the President shall resume the powers and duties of his office. + +AMENDMENT XXVI + +Section 1. + +The right of citizens of the United States, who are eighteen years of age or older, to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of age. + +Section 2. + +The Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation. + +AMENDMENT XXVII + +No law, varying the compensation for the services of the Senators and Representatives, shall take effect, until an election of representatives shall have intervened. diff --git a/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/spl.jar b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/spl.jar new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac47e5b Binary files /dev/null and b/4-Flesch-Kincaid/windows/spl.jar differ