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

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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.




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