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
expensivesubstitute 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."
"He is at the New Hospital," said Rosamond; "I am not sure how soon
he will come home. But I can send for him,"
"Will you let me go and fetch him?" said Will Ladislaw, coming forward.
He had already taken up his hat before Dorothea entered.
She colored with surprise, but put out her hand with a smile
of
unmistakable pleasure,
saying--
"I did not know it was you: I had no thought of
seeing you here."
"May I go to the Hospital and tell Mr. Lydgate that you wish
to see him?" said Will.
"It would be quicker to send the
carriage for him," said Dorothea,
"if you will be kind enough to give the message to the coachman."
Will was moving to the door when Dorothea, whose mind had flashed
in an
instant over many connected memories, turned quickly and said,
"I will go myself, thank you. I wish to lose no time before getting
home again. I will drive to the Hospital and see Mr. Lydgate there.
Pray excuse me, Mrs. Lydgate. I am very much obliged to you."
Her mind was
evidentlyarrested by some sudden thought, and she
left the room hardly
conscious of what was immediately around her--
hardly
conscious that Will opened the door for her and offered her his
arm to lead her to the
carriage. She took the arm but said nothing.
Will was feeling rather vexed and
miserable, and found nothing
to say on his side. He handed her into the
carriage in silence,
they said good-by, and Dorothea drove away.
In the five minutes' drive to the Hospital she had time for some
reflections that were quite new to her. Her decision to go, and her
preoccupation in leaving the room, had come from the sudden sense
that there would be a sort of
deception in her voluntarily allowing
any further
intercourse between herself and Will which she was unable
to mention to her husband, and already her
errand in seeking Lydgate
was a matter of
concealment. That was all that had been explicitly
in her mind; but she had been urged also by a vague discomfort.
Now that she was alone in her drive, she heard the notes of the man's
voice and the accompanying piano, which she had not noted much
at the time, returning on her
inward sense; and she found herself
thinking with some wonder that Will Ladislaw was passing his time
with Mrs. Lydgate in her husband's
absence. And then she could
not help remembering that he had passed some time with her under
like circumstances, so why should there be any unfitness in the fact?
But Will was Mr. Casaubon's
relative, and one towards whom she was
bound to show kindness. Still there had been signs which perhaps
she ought to have understood as implying that Mr. Casaubon did
not like his cousin's visits during his own
absence. "Perhaps I
have been
mistaken in many things," said poor Dorothea to herself,
while the tears came rolling and she had to dry them quickly.
She felt confusedly
unhappy, and the image of Will which had been
so clear to her before was
mysteriously spoiled. But the
carriagestopped at the gate of the Hospital. She was soon walking round
the grass plots with Lydgate, and her feelings recovered the strong
bent which had made her seek for this interview.
Will Ladislaw,
meanwhile, was mortified, and knew the reason
of it clearly enough. His chances of meeting Dorothea were rare;
and here for the first time there had come a chance which had set
him at a
disadvantage. It was not only, as it had been hitherto,
that she was not supremely occupied with him, but that she had seen
him under circumstances in which he might appear not to be supremely
occupied with her. He felt
thrust to a new distance from her,
amongst the circles of Middlemarchers who made no part of her life.
But that was not his fault: of course, since he had taken his lodgings
in the town, he had been making as many acquaintances as he could,
his position requiring that he should know everybody and everything.