"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

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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 of living."




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