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When
the
kind
quiet
melancholy
of
that
speech
fell
on
Dorothea
’
s
ears
,
she
felt
something
like
the
thankfulness
that
might
well
up
in
us
if
we
had
narrowly
escaped
hurting
a
lamed
creature
.
She
put
her
hand
into
her
husband
’
s
,
and
they
went
along
the
broad
corridor
together
.
This
figure
hath
high
price
:
’
t
was
wrought
with
loveAges
ago
in
finest
ivory
;
Nought
modish
in
it
,
pure
and
noble
linesOf
generous
womanhood
that
fits
all
timeThat
too
is
costly
ware
;
majolicaOf
deft
design
,
to
please
a
lordly
eye
:
The
smile
,
you
see
,
is
perfect
—
wonderfulAs
mere
Faience
!
a
table
ornamentTo
suit
the
richest
mounting
.
"
Dorothea
seldom
left
home
without
her
husband
,
but
she
did
occasionally
drive
into
Middlemarch
alone
,
on
little
errands
of
shopping
or
charity
such
as
occur
to
every
lady
of
any
wealth
when
she
lives
within
three
miles
of
a
town
.
Two
days
after
that
scene
in
the
Yew
-
tree
Walk
,
she
determined
to
use
such
an
opportunity
in
order
if
possible
to
see
Lydgate
,
and
learn
from
him
whether
her
husband
had
really
felt
any
depressing
change
of
symptoms
which
he
was
concealing
from
her
,
and
whether
he
had
insisted
on
knowing
the
utmost
about
himself
.
She
felt
almost
guilty
in
asking
for
knowledge
about
him
from
another
,
but
the
dread
of
being
without
it
—
the
dread
of
that
ignorance
which
would
make
her
unjust
or
hard
—
overcame
every
scruple
.
That
there
had
been
some
crisis
in
her
husband
’
s
mind
she
was
certain
:
he
had
the
very
next
day
begun
a
new
method
of
arranging
his
notes
,
and
had
associated
her
quite
newly
in
carrying
out
his
plan
.
Poor
Dorothea
needed
to
lay
up
stores
of
patience
.
It
was
about
four
o
’
clock
when
she
drove
to
Lydgate
’
s
house
in
Lowick
Gate
,
wishing
,
in
her
immediate
doubt
of
finding
him
at
home
,
that
she
had
written
beforehand
.
And
he
was
not
at
home
.
"
Is
Mrs
.
Lydgate
at
home
?
"
said
Dorothea
,
who
had
never
,
that
she
knew
of
,
seen
Rosamond
,
but
now
remembered
the
fact
of
the
marriage
.
Yes
,
Mrs
.
Lydgate
was
at
home
.
"
I
will
go
in
and
speak
to
her
,
if
she
will
allow
me
.
Will
you
ask
her
if
she
can
see
me
—
see
Mrs
.
Casaubon
,
for
a
few
minutes
?
"
When
the
servant
had
gone
to
deliver
that
message
,
Dorothea
could
hear
sounds
of
music
through
an
open
window
—
a
few
notes
from
a
man
’
s
voice
and
then
a
piano
bursting
into
roulades
.
But
the
roulades
broke
off
suddenly
,
and
then
the
servant
came
back
saying
that
Mrs
.
Lydgate
would
be
happy
to
see
Mrs
.
Casaubon
.
When
the
drawing
-
room
door
opened
and
Dorothea
entered
,
there
was
a
sort
of
contrast
not
infrequent
in
country
life
when
the
habits
of
the
different
ranks
were
less
blent
than
now
.
Let
those
who
know
,
tell
us
exactly
what
stuff
it
was
that
Dorothea
wore
in
those
days
of
mild
autumn
—
that
thin
white
woollen
stuff
soft
to
the
touch
and
soft
to
the
eye
.
It
always
seemed
to
have
been
lately
washed
,
and
to
smell
of
the
sweet
hedges
—
was
always
in
the
shape
of
a
pelisse
with
sleeves
hanging
all
out
of
the
fashion
.
Yet
if
she
had
entered
before
a
still
audience
as
Imogene
or
Cato
’
s
daughter
,
the
dress
might
have
seemed
right
enough
:
the
grace
and
dignity
were
in
her
limbs
and
neck
;
and
about
her
simply
parted
hair
and
candid
eyes
the
large
round
poke
which
was
then
in
the
fate
of
women
,
seemed
no
more
odd
as
a
head
-
dress
than
the
gold
trencher
we
call
a
halo
.
By
the
present
audience
of
two
persons
,
no
dramatic
heroine
could
have
been
expected
with
more
interest
than
Mrs
.
Casaubon
.
To
Rosamond
she
was
one
of
those
county
divinities
not
mixing
with
Middlemarch
mortality
,
whose
slightest
marks
of
manner
or
appearance
were
worthy
of
her
study
;
moreover
,
Rosamond
was
not
without
satisfaction
that
Mrs
.
Casaubon
should
have
an
opportunity
of
studying
HER
.
What
is
the
use
of
being
exquisite
if
you
are
not
seen
by
the
best
judges
?
and
since
Rosamond
had
received
the
highest
compliments
at
Sir
Godwin
Lydgate
’
s
,
she
felt
quite
confident
of
the
impression
she
must
make
on
people
of
good
birth
.
Dorothea
put
out
her
hand
with
her
usual
simple
kindness
,
and
looked
admiringly
at
Lydgate
’
s
lovely
bride
—
aware
that
there
was
a
gentleman
standing
at
a
distance
,
but
seeing
him
merely
as
a
coated
figure
at
a
wide
angle
.
The
gentleman
was
too
much
occupied
with
the
presence
of
the
one
woman
to
reflect
on
the
contrast
between
the
two
—
a
contrast
that
would
certainly
have
been
striking
to
a
calm
observer
.
They
were
both
tall
,
and
their
eyes
were
on
a
level
;
but
imagine
Rosamond
’
s
infantine
blondness
and
wondrous
crown
of
hair
-
plaits
,
with
her
pale
-
blue
dress
of
a
fit
and
fashion
so
perfect
that
no
dressmaker
could
look
at
it
without
emotion
,
a
large
embroidered
collar
which
it
was
to
be
hoped
all
beholders
would
know
the
price
of
,
her
small
hands
duly
set
off
with
rings
,
and
that
controlled
self
-
consciousness
of
manner
which
is
the
expensive
substitute
for
simplicity
.
"
Thank
you
very
much
for
allowing
me
to
interrupt
you
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
immediately
.
"
I
am
anxious
to
see
Mr
.
Lydgate
,
if
possible
,
before
I
go
home
,
and
I
hoped
that
you
might
possibly
tell
me
where
I
could
find
him
,
or
even
allow
me
to
wait
for
him
,
if
you
expect
him
soon
.
"
