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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
.
"
The
clerkly
person
smiled
and
saidPromise
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
.
