“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.
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.
