"Especially when she has great attractions, and her parents see much

company," said Mrs. Bulstrode "Gentlemen pay her attention, and engross

her all to themselves, for the mere pleasure of the moment, and that

drives off others. I think it is a heavy responsibility, Mr. Lydgate,

to interfere with the prospects of any girl." Here Mrs. Bulstrode fixed

her eyes on him, with an unmistakable purpose of warning, if not of

rebuke.

"Clearly," said Lydgate, looking at her--perhaps even staring a little

in return. "On the other hand, a man must be a great coxcomb to go

about with a notion that he must not pay attention to a young lady lest

she should fall in love with him, or lest others should think she must."

"Oh, Mr. Lydgate, you know well what your advantages are. You know

that our young men here cannot cope with you. Where you frequent a

house it may militate very much against a girl's making a desirable

settlement in life, and prevent her from accepting offers even if they

are made."

Lydgate was less flattered by his advantage over the Middlemarch

Orlandos than he was annoyed by the perception of Mrs. Bulstrode's

meaning. She felt that she had spoken as impressively as it was

necessary to do, and that in using the superior word "militate" she had

thrown a noble drapery over a mass of particulars which were still

evident enough.

Lydgate was fuming a little, pushed his hair back with one hand, felt

curiously in his waistcoat-pocket with the other, and then stooped to

beckon the tiny black spaniel, which had the insight to decline his

hollow caresses. It would not have been decent to go away, because he

had been dining with other guests, and had just taken tea. But Mrs.

Bulstrode, having no doubt that she had been understood, turned the

conversation.

Solomon's Proverbs, I think, have omitted to say, that as the sore

palate findeth grit, so an uneasy consciousness heareth innuendoes.

The next day Mr. Farebrother, parting from Lydgate in the street,

supposed that they should meet at Vincy's in the evening. Lydgate

answered curtly, no--he had work to do--he must give up going out in

the evening.

"What! you are going to get lashed to the mast, eh, and are stopping

your ears?" said the Vicar. "Well, if you don't mean to be won by the

sirens, you are right to take precautions in time."

A few days before, Lydgate would have taken no notice of these words as

anything more than the Vicar's usual way of putting things. They

seemed now to convey an innuendo which confirmed the impression that he

had been making a fool of himself and behaving so as to be

misunderstood: not, he believed, by Rosamond herself; she, he felt

sure, took everything as lightly as he intended it. She had an

exquisite tact and insight in relation to all points of manners; but

the people she lived among were blunderers and busybodies. However,

the mistake should go no farther. He resolved--and kept his

resolution--that he would not go to Mr. Vincy's except on business.




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