But it was not resolved unanimously that things would come right; on

the contrary, the committee looked rather grim, and the political

personage from Brassing was writing busily, as if he were brewing new

devices.

"It was Bowyer who did it," said Mr. Standish, evasively. "I know it

as well as if he had been advertised. He's uncommonly good at

ventriloquism, and he did it uncommonly well, by God! Hawley has been

having him to dinner lately: there's a fund of talent in Bowyer."

"Well, you know, you never mentioned him to me, Standish, else I would

have invited him to dine," said poor Mr. Brooke, who had gone through a

great deal of inviting for the good of his country.

"There's not a more paltry fellow in Middlemarch than Bowyer," said

Ladislaw, indignantly, "but it seems as if the paltry fellows were

always to turn the scale."

Will was thoroughly out of temper with himself as well as with his

"principal," and he went to shut himself in his rooms with a

half-formed resolve to throw up the "Pioneer" and Mr. Brooke together.

Why should he stay? If the impassable gulf between himself and

Dorothea were ever to be filled up, it must rather be by his going away

and getting into a thoroughly different position than by staying here

and slipping into deserved contempt as an understrapper of Brooke's.

Then came the young dream of wonders that he might do--in five years,

for example: political writing, political speaking, would get a higher

value now public life was going to be wider and more national, and they

might give him such distinction that he would not seem to be asking

Dorothea to step down to him. Five years:--if he could only be sure

that she cared for him more than for others; if he could only make her

aware that he stood aloof until he could tell his love without lowering

himself--then he could go away easily, and begin a career which at

five-and-twenty seemed probable enough in the inward order of things,

where talent brings fame, and fame everything else which is delightful.

He could speak and he could write; he could master any subject if he

chose, and he meant always to take the side of reason and justice, on

which he would carry all his ardor. Why should he not one day be

lifted above the shoulders of the crowd, and feel that he had won that

eminence well? Without doubt he would leave Middlemarch, go to town,

and make himself fit for celebrity by "eating his dinners."

But not immediately: not until some kind of sign had passed between him

and Dorothea. He could not be satisfied until she knew why, even if he

were the man she would choose to marry, he would not marry her. Hence

he must keep his post and bear with Mr. Brooke a little longer.




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