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Mr
.
Bulstrode
,
the
banker
,
seemed
to
be
addressed
,
but
that
gentleman
disliked
coarseness
and
profanity
,
and
merely
bowed
.
The
remark
was
taken
up
by
Mr
.
Chichely
,
a
middle
-
aged
bachelor
and
coursing
celebrity
,
who
had
a
complexion
something
like
an
Easter
egg
,
a
few
hairs
carefully
arranged
,
and
a
carriage
implying
the
consciousness
of
a
distinguished
appearance
.
"
Yes
,
but
not
my
style
of
woman
:
I
like
a
woman
who
lays
herself
out
a
little
more
to
please
us
.
There
should
be
a
little
filigree
about
a
woman
—
something
of
the
coquette
.
A
man
likes
a
sort
of
challenge
.
The
more
of
a
dead
set
she
makes
at
you
the
better
.
"
"
There
’
s
some
truth
in
that
,
"
said
Mr
.
Standish
,
disposed
to
be
genial
.
"
And
,
by
God
,
it
’
s
usually
the
way
with
them
.
I
suppose
it
answers
some
wise
ends
:
Providence
made
them
so
,
eh
,
Bulstrode
?
"
"
I
should
be
disposed
to
refer
coquetry
to
another
source
,
"
said
Mr
.
Bulstrode
.
"
I
should
rather
refer
it
to
the
devil
.
"
"
Ay
,
to
be
sure
,
there
should
be
a
little
devil
in
a
woman
,
"
said
Mr
.
Chichely
,
whose
study
of
the
fair
sex
seemed
to
have
been
detrimental
to
his
theology
.
"
And
I
like
them
blond
,
with
a
certain
gait
,
and
a
swan
neck
.
Between
ourselves
,
the
mayor
’
s
daughter
is
more
to
my
taste
than
Miss
Brooke
or
Miss
Celia
either
.
If
I
were
a
marrying
man
I
should
choose
Miss
Vincy
before
either
of
them
.
"
"
Well
,
make
up
,
make
up
,
"
said
Mr
.
Standish
,
jocosely
;
"
you
see
the
middle
-
aged
fellows
early
the
day
.
"
Mr
.
Chichely
shook
his
head
with
much
meaning
:
he
was
not
going
to
incur
the
certainty
of
being
accepted
by
the
woman
he
would
choose
.
The
Miss
Vincy
who
had
the
honor
of
being
Mr
.
Chichely
’
s
ideal
was
of
course
not
present
;
for
Mr
.
Brooke
,
always
objecting
to
go
too
far
,
would
not
have
chosen
that
his
nieces
should
meet
the
daughter
of
a
Middlemarch
manufacturer
,
unless
it
were
on
a
public
occasion
.
The
feminine
part
of
the
company
included
none
whom
Lady
Chettam
or
Mrs
.
Cadwallader
could
object
to
;
for
Mrs
.
Renfrew
,
the
colonel
’
s
widow
,
was
not
only
unexceptionable
in
point
of
breeding
,
but
also
interesting
on
the
ground
of
her
complaint
,
which
puzzled
the
doctors
,
and
seemed
clearly
a
case
wherein
the
fulness
of
professional
knowledge
might
need
the
supplement
of
quackery
.
Lady
Chettam
,
who
attributed
her
own
remarkable
health
to
home
-
made
bitters
united
with
constant
medical
attendance
,
entered
with
much
exercise
of
the
imagination
into
Mrs
.
Renfrew
’
s
account
of
symptoms
,
and
into
the
amazing
futility
in
her
case
of
all
,
strengthening
medicines
.
"
Where
can
all
the
strength
of
those
medicines
go
,
my
dear
?
"
said
the
mild
but
stately
dowager
,
turning
to
Mrs
.
Cadwallader
reflectively
,
when
Mrs
.
Renfrew
’
s
attention
was
called
away
.
