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Dorothea
walked
about
the
house
with
delightful
emotion
.
Everything
seemed
hallowed
to
her
:
this
was
to
be
the
home
of
her
wifehood
,
and
she
looked
up
with
eyes
full
of
confidence
to
Mr
.
Casaubon
when
he
drew
her
attention
specially
to
some
actual
arrangement
and
asked
her
if
she
would
like
an
alteration
.
All
appeals
to
her
taste
she
met
gratefully
,
but
saw
nothing
to
alter
.
His
efforts
at
exact
courtesy
and
formal
tenderness
had
no
defect
for
her
.
She
filled
up
all
blanks
with
unmanifested
perfections
,
interpreting
him
as
she
interpreted
the
works
of
Providence
,
and
accounting
for
seeming
discords
by
her
own
deafness
to
the
higher
harmonies
.
And
there
are
many
blanks
left
in
the
weeks
of
courtship
which
a
loving
faith
fills
with
happy
assurance
.
"
Now
,
my
dear
Dorothea
,
I
wish
you
to
favor
me
by
pointing
out
which
room
you
would
like
to
have
as
your
boudoir
,
"
said
Mr
.
Casaubon
,
showing
that
his
views
of
the
womanly
nature
were
sufficiently
large
to
include
that
requirement
.
"
It
is
very
kind
of
you
to
think
of
that
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
"
but
I
assure
you
I
would
rather
have
all
those
matters
decided
for
me
.
I
shall
be
much
happier
to
take
everything
as
it
is
—
just
as
you
have
been
used
to
have
it
,
or
as
you
will
yourself
choose
it
to
be
.
I
have
no
motive
for
wishing
anything
else
.
"
"
Oh
,
Dodo
,
"
said
Celia
,
"
will
you
not
have
the
bow
-
windowed
room
up
-
stairs
?
"
Mr
.
Casaubon
led
the
way
thither
.
The
bow
-
window
looked
down
the
avenue
of
limes
;
the
furniture
was
all
of
a
faded
blue
,
and
there
were
miniatures
of
ladies
and
gentlemen
with
powdered
hair
hanging
in
a
group
.
A
piece
of
tapestry
over
a
door
also
showed
a
blue
-
green
world
with
a
pale
stag
in
it
.
The
chairs
and
tables
were
thin
-
legged
and
easy
to
upset
.
It
was
a
room
where
one
might
fancy
the
ghost
of
a
tight
-
laced
lady
revisiting
the
scene
of
her
embroidery
.
A
light
bookcase
contained
duodecimo
volumes
of
polite
literature
in
calf
,
completing
the
furniture
.
"
Yes
,
"
said
Mr
.
Brooke
,
"
this
would
be
a
pretty
room
with
some
new
hangings
,
sofas
,
and
that
sort
of
thing
.
A
little
bare
now
.
"
"
No
,
uncle
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
eagerly
.
"
Pray
do
not
speak
of
altering
anything
.
There
are
so
many
other
things
in
the
world
that
want
altering
—
I
like
to
take
these
things
as
they
are
.
And
you
like
them
as
they
are
,
don
’
t
you
?
"
she
added
,
looking
at
Mr
.
Casaubon
.
"
Perhaps
this
was
your
mother
’
s
room
when
she
was
young
.
"
"
It
was
,
"
he
said
,
with
his
slow
bend
of
the
head
.
"
This
is
your
mother
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
who
had
turned
to
examine
the
group
of
miniatures
.
"
It
is
like
the
tiny
one
you
brought
me
;
only
,
I
should
think
,
a
better
portrait
.
And
this
one
opposite
,
who
is
this
?
"
