"I should like to have fuller knowledge about him, uncle, and judge for

myself, if Mr. Casaubon has not left any expression of his wishes. He

has perhaps made some addition to his will--there may be some

instructions for me," said Dorothea, who had all the while had this

conjecture in her mind with relation to her husband's work.

"Nothing about the rectory, my dear--nothing," said Mr. Brooke, rising

to go away, and putting out his hand to his nieces: "nor about his

researches, you know. Nothing in the will."

Dorothea's lip quivered.

"Come, you must not think of these things yet, my dear. By-and-by, you

know."

"I am quite well now, uncle; I wish to exert myself."

"Well, well, we shall see. But I must run away now--I have no end of

work now--it's a crisis--a political crisis, you know. And here is

Celia and her little man--you are an aunt, you know, now, and I am a

sort of grandfather," said Mr. Brooke, with placid hurry, anxious to

get away and tell Chettam that it would not be his (Mr. Brooke's) fault

if Dorothea insisted on looking into everything.

Dorothea sank back in her chair when her uncle had left the room, and

cast her eyes down meditatively on her crossed hands.

"Look, Dodo! look at him! Did you ever see anything like that?" said

Celia, in her comfortable staccato.

"What, Kitty?" said Dorothea, lifting her eyes rather absently.

"What? why, his upper lip; see how he is drawing it down, as if he

meant to make a face. Isn't it wonderful! He may have his little

thoughts. I wish nurse were here. Do look at him."

A large tear which had been for some time gathering, rolled down

Dorothea's cheek as she looked up and tried to smile.

"Don't be sad, Dodo; kiss baby. What are you brooding over so? I am

sure you did everything, and a great deal too much. You should be

happy now."

"I wonder if Sir James would drive me to Lowick. I want to look over

everything--to see if there were any words written for me."

"You are not to go till Mr. Lydgate says you may go. And he has not

said so yet (here you are, nurse; take baby and walk up and down the

gallery). Besides, you have got a wrong notion in your head as usual,

Dodo--I can see that: it vexes me."

"Where am I wrong, Kitty?" said Dorothea, quite meekly. She was almost

ready now to think Celia wiser than herself, and was really wondering

with some fear what her wrong notion was. Celia felt her advantage,

and was determined to use it. None of them knew Dodo as well as she

did, or knew how to manage her. Since Celia's baby was born, she had

had a new sense of her mental solidity and calm wisdom. It seemed

clear that where there was a baby, things were right enough, and that

error, in general, was a mere lack of that central poising force.




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