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It
was
a
newer
crisis
in
Rosamond
’
s
experience
than
even
Dorothea
could
imagine
:
she
was
under
the
first
great
shock
that
had
shattered
her
dream
-
world
in
which
she
had
been
easily
confident
of
herself
and
critical
of
others
;
and
this
strange
unexpected
manifestation
of
feeling
in
a
woman
whom
she
had
approached
with
a
shrinking
aversion
and
dread
,
as
one
who
must
necessarily
have
a
jealous
hatred
towards
her
,
made
her
soul
totter
all
the
more
with
a
sense
that
she
had
been
walking
in
an
unknown
world
which
had
just
broken
in
upon
her
.
When
Rosamond
’
s
convulsed
throat
was
subsiding
into
calm
,
and
she
withdrew
the
handkerchief
with
which
she
had
been
hiding
her
face
,
her
eyes
met
Dorothea
’
s
as
helplessly
as
if
they
had
been
blue
flowers
.
What
was
the
use
of
thinking
about
behavior
after
this
crying
?
And
Dorothea
looked
almost
as
childish
,
with
the
neglected
trace
of
a
silent
tear
.
Pride
was
broken
down
between
these
two
.
"
We
were
talking
about
your
husband
,
"
Dorothea
said
,
with
some
timidity
.
"
I
thought
his
looks
were
sadly
changed
with
suffering
the
other
day
.
I
had
not
seen
him
for
many
weeks
before
.
He
said
he
had
been
feeling
very
lonely
in
his
trial
;
but
I
think
he
would
have
borne
it
all
better
if
he
had
been
able
to
be
quite
open
with
you
.
"
"
Tertius
is
so
angry
and
impatient
if
I
say
anything
,
"
said
Rosamond
,
imagining
that
he
had
been
complaining
of
her
to
Dorothea
.
"
He
ought
not
to
wonder
that
I
object
to
speak
to
him
on
painful
subjects
.
"
"
It
was
himself
he
blamed
for
not
speaking
,
"
said
Dorothea
.
"
What
he
said
of
you
was
,
that
he
could
not
be
happy
in
doing
anything
which
made
you
unhappy
—
that
his
marriage
was
of
course
a
bond
which
must
affect
his
choice
about
everything
;
and
for
that
reason
he
refused
my
proposal
that
he
should
keep
his
position
at
the
Hospital
,
because
that
would
bind
him
to
stay
in
Middlemarch
,
and
he
would
not
undertake
to
do
anything
which
would
be
painful
to
you
.
He
could
say
that
to
me
,
because
he
knows
that
I
had
much
trial
in
my
marriage
,
from
my
husband
’
s
illness
,
which
hindered
his
plans
and
saddened
him
;
and
he
knows
that
I
have
felt
how
hard
it
is
to
walk
always
in
fear
of
hurting
another
who
is
tied
to
us
.
"
Dorothea
waited
a
little
;
she
had
discerned
a
faint
pleasure
stealing
over
Rosamond
’
s
face
.
But
there
was
no
answer
,
and
she
went
on
,
with
a
gathering
tremor
,
"
Marriage
is
so
unlike
everything
else
.
There
is
something
even
awful
in
the
nearness
it
brings
.
Even
if
we
loved
some
one
else
better
than
—
than
those
we
were
married
to
,
it
would
be
no
use
"
—
poor
Dorothea
,
in
her
palpitating
anxiety
,
could
only
seize
her
language
brokenly
—
"
I
mean
,
marriage
drinks
up
all
our
power
of
giving
or
getting
any
blessedness
in
that
sort
of
love
.
I
know
it
may
be
very
dear
—
but
it
murders
our
marriage
—
and
then
the
marriage
stays
with
us
like
a
murder
—
and
everything
else
is
gone
.
And
then
our
husband
—
if
he
loved
and
trusted
us
,
and
we
have
not
helped
him
,
but
made
a
curse
in
his
life
—
"
Her
voice
had
sunk
very
low
:
there
was
a
dread
upon
her
of
presuming
too
far
,
and
of
speaking
as
if
she
herself
were
perfection
addressing
error
.
She
was
too
much
preoccupied
with
her
own
anxiety
,
to
be
aware
that
Rosamond
was
trembling
too
;
and
filled
with
the
need
to
express
pitying
fellowship
rather
than
rebuke
,
she
put
her
hands
on
Rosamond
’
s
,
and
said
with
more
agitated
rapidity
—
"
I
know
,
I
know
that
the
feeling
may
be
very
dear
—
it
has
taken
hold
of
us
unawares
—
it
is
so
hard
,
it
may
seem
like
death
to
part
with
it
—
and
we
are
weak
—
I
am
weak
—
"
The
waves
of
her
own
sorrow
,
from
out
of
which
she
was
struggling
to
save
another
,
rushed
over
Dorothea
with
conquering
force
.
She
stopped
in
speechless
agitation
.
not
crying
,
but
feeling
as
if
she
were
being
inwardly
grappled
.
Her
face
had
become
of
a
deathlier
paleness
,
her
lips
trembled
,
and
she
pressed
her
hands
helplessly
on
the
hands
that
lay
under
them
.
