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I
suppose
it
is
being
used
to
it
from
a
child
;
but
I
never
saw
the
town
I
should
like
to
live
at
better
,
and
especially
our
end
.
"
"
I
am
sure
I
should
be
glad
that
you
always
should
live
at
Middlemarch
,
Mrs
.
Bulstrode
,
"
said
Mrs
.
Hackbutt
,
with
a
slight
sigh
.
"
Still
,
we
must
learn
to
resign
ourselves
,
wherever
our
lot
may
be
east
.
Though
I
am
sure
there
will
always
be
people
in
this
town
who
will
wish
you
well
.
"
Mrs
.
Hackbutt
longed
to
say
,
"
if
you
take
my
advice
you
will
part
from
your
husband
,
"
but
it
seemed
clear
to
her
that
the
poor
woman
knew
nothing
of
the
thunder
ready
to
bolt
on
her
head
,
and
she
herself
could
do
no
more
than
prepare
her
a
little
.
Mrs
.
Bulstrode
felt
suddenly
rather
chill
and
trembling
:
there
was
evidently
something
unusual
behind
this
speech
of
Mrs
.
Hackbutt
’
s
;
but
though
she
had
set
out
with
the
desire
to
be
fully
informed
,
she
found
herself
unable
now
to
pursue
her
brave
purpose
,
and
turning
the
conversation
by
an
inquiry
about
the
young
Hackbutts
,
she
soon
took
her
leave
saying
that
she
was
going
to
see
Mrs
.
Plymdale
.
On
her
way
thither
she
tried
to
imagine
that
there
might
have
been
some
unusually
warm
sparring
at
the
meeting
between
Mr
.
Bulstrode
and
some
of
his
frequent
opponents
—
perhaps
Mr
.
Hackbutt
might
have
been
one
of
them
.
That
would
account
for
everything
.
But
when
she
was
in
conversation
with
Mrs
.
Plymdale
that
comforting
explanation
seemed
no
longer
tenable
.
"
Selina
"
received
her
with
a
pathetic
affectionateness
and
a
disposition
to
give
edifying
answers
on
the
commonest
topics
,
which
could
hardly
have
reference
to
an
ordinary
quarrel
of
which
the
most
important
consequence
was
a
perturbation
of
Mr
.
Bulstrode
’
s
health
.
Beforehand
Mrs
.
Bulstrode
had
thought
that
she
would
sooner
question
Mrs
.
Plymdale
than
any
one
else
;
but
she
found
to
her
surprise
that
an
old
friend
is
not
always
the
person
whom
it
is
easiest
to
make
a
confidant
of
:
there
was
the
barrier
of
remembered
communication
under
other
circumstances
—
there
was
the
dislike
of
being
pitied
and
informed
by
one
who
had
been
long
wont
to
allow
her
the
superiority
.
For
certain
words
of
mysterious
appropriateness
that
Mrs
.
Plymdale
let
fall
about
her
resolution
never
to
turn
her
back
on
her
friends
,
convinced
Mrs
.
Bulstrode
that
what
had
happened
must
be
some
kind
of
misfortune
,
and
instead
of
being
able
to
say
with
her
native
directness
,
"
What
is
it
that
you
have
in
your
mind
?
"
she
found
herself
anxious
to
get
away
before
she
had
heard
anything
more
explicit
.
She
began
to
have
an
agitating
certainty
that
the
misfortune
was
something
more
than
the
mere
loss
of
money
,
being
keenly
sensitive
to
the
fact
that
Selina
now
,
just
as
Mrs
.
Hackbutt
had
done
before
,
avoided
noticing
what
she
said
about
her
husband
,
as
they
would
have
avoided
noticing
a
personal
blemish
.
She
said
good
-
by
with
nervous
haste
,
and
told
the
coachman
to
drive
to
Mr
.
Vincy
’
s
warehouse
.
In
that
short
drive
her
dread
gathered
so
much
force
from
the
sense
of
darkness
,
that
when
she
entered
the
private
counting
-
house
where
her
brother
sat
at
his
desk
,
her
knees
trembled
and
her
usually
florid
face
was
deathly
pale
.
Something
of
the
same
effect
was
produced
in
him
by
the
sight
of
her
:
he
rose
from
his
seat
to
meet
her
,
took
her
by
the
hand
,
and
said
,
with
his
impulsive
rashness
—
"
God
help
you
,
Harriet
!
you
know
all
.
"
That
moment
was
perhaps
worse
than
any
which
came
after
.
It
contained
that
concentrated
experience
which
in
great
crises
of
emotion
reveals
the
bias
of
a
nature
,
and
is
prophetic
of
the
ultimate
act
which
will
end
an
intermediate
struggle
.
Without
that
memory
of
Raffles
she
might
still
have
thought
only
of
monetary
ruin
,
but
now
along
with
her
brother
’
s
look
and
words
there
darted
into
her
mind
the
idea
of
some
guilt
in
her
husband
—
then
,
under
the
working
of
terror
came
the
image
of
her
husband
exposed
to
disgrace
—
and
then
,
after
an
instant
of
scorching
shame
in
which
she
felt
only
the
eyes
of
the
world
,
with
one
leap
of
her
heart
she
was
at
his
side
in
mournful
but
unreproaching
fellowship
with
shame
and
isolation
.
All
this
went
on
within
her
in
a
mere
flash
of
time
—
while
she
sank
into
the
chair
,
and
raised
her
eyes
to
her
brother
,
who
stood
over
her
.
"
I
know
nothing
,
Walter
.
What
is
it
?
"
she
said
,
faintly
.
He
told
her
everything
,
very
inartificially
,
in
slow
fragments
,
making
her
aware
that
the
scandal
went
much
beyond
proof
,
especially
as
to
the
end
of
Raffles
.
