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."