"Ah, yes: one of your secret committee," said Mrs. Cadwallader,

provokingly.

"A coursing fellow, though," said Sir James, with a fox-hunter's

disgust.

"And one of those who suck the life out of the wretched handloom

weavers in Tipton and Freshitt. That is how his family look so fair

and sleek," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Those dark, purple-faced people

are an excellent foil. Dear me, they are like a set of jugs! Do look

at Humphrey: one might fancy him an ugly archangel towering above them

in his white surplice."

"It's a solemn thing, though, a funeral," said Mr. Brooke, "if you take

it in that light, you know."

"But I am not taking it in that light. I can't wear my solemnity too

often, else it will go to rags. It was time the old man died, and none

of these people are sorry."

"How piteous!" said Dorothea. "This funeral seems to me the most

dismal thing I ever saw. It is a blot on the morning I cannot bear to

think that any one should die and leave no love behind."

She was going to say more, but she saw her husband enter and seat

himself a little in the background. The difference his presence made

to her was not always a happy one: she felt that he often inwardly

objected to her speech.

"Positively," exclaimed Mrs. Cadwallader, "there is a new face come out

from behind that broad man queerer than any of them: a little round

head with bulging eyes--a sort of frog-face--do look. He must be of

another blood, I think."

"Let me see!" said Celia, with awakened curiosity, standing behind Mrs.

Cadwallader and leaning forward over her head. "Oh, what an odd face!"

Then with a quick change to another sort of surprised expression, she

added, "Why, Dodo, you never told me that Mr. Ladislaw was come again!"

Dorothea felt a shock of alarm: every one noticed her sudden paleness

as she looked up immediately at her uncle, while Mr. Casaubon looked at

her.

"He came with me, you know; he is my guest--puts up with me at the

Grange," said Mr. Brooke, in his easiest tone, nodding at Dorothea, as

if the announcement were just what she might have expected. "And we

have brought the picture at the top of the carriage. I knew you would

be pleased with the surprise, Casaubon. There you are to the very

life--as Aquinas, you know. Quite the right sort of thing. And you

will hear young Ladislaw talk about it. He talks uncommonly

well--points out this, that, and the other--knows art and everything of

that kind--companionable, you know--is up with you in any track--what

I've been wanting a long while."




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