"I am obliged to tell you what will hurt you, Rosy. But there are

things which husband and wife must think of together. I dare say it

has occurred to you already that I am short of money."

Lydgate paused; but Rosamond turned her neck and looked at a vase on

the mantel-piece.

"I was not able to pay for all the things we had to get before we were

married, and there have been expenses since which I have been obliged

to meet. The consequence is, there is a large debt at Brassing--three

hundred and eighty pounds--which has been pressing on me a good while,

and in fact we are getting deeper every day, for people don't pay me

the faster because others want the money. I took pains to keep it from

you while you were not well; but now we must think together about it,

and you must help me."

"What can--I--do, Tertius?" said Rosamond, turning her eyes on him

again. That little speech of four words, like so many others in all

languages, is capable by varied vocal inflections of expressing all

states of mind from helpless dimness to exhaustive argumentative

perception, from the completest self-devoting fellowship to the most

neutral aloofness. Rosamond's thin utterance threw into the words

"What can--I--do!" as much neutrality as they could hold. They fell

like a mortal chill on Lydgate's roused tenderness. He did not storm

in indignation--he felt too sad a sinking of the heart. And when he

spoke again it was more in the tone of a man who forces himself to

fulfil a task.

"It is necessary for you to know, because I have to give security for a

time, and a man must come to make an inventory of the furniture."

Rosamond colored deeply. "Have you not asked papa for money?" she

said, as soon as she could speak.

"No."

"Then I must ask him!" she said, releasing her hands from Lydgate's,

and rising to stand at two yards' distance from him.

"No, Rosy," said Lydgate, decisively. "It is too late to do that. The

inventory will be begun to-morrow. Remember it is a mere security: it

will make no difference: it is a temporary affair. I insist upon it

that your father shall not know, unless I choose to tell him," added

Lydgate, with a more peremptory emphasis.

This certainly was unkind, but Rosamond had thrown him back on evil

expectation as to what she would do in the way of quiet steady

disobedience. The unkindness seemed unpardonable to her: she was not

given to weeping and disliked it, but now her chin and lips began to

tremble and the tears welled up. Perhaps it was not possible for

Lydgate, under the double stress of outward material difficulty and of

his own proud resistance to humiliating consequences, to imagine fully

what this sudden trial was to a young creature who had known nothing

but indulgence, and whose dreams had all been of new indulgence, more

exactly to her taste. But he did wish to spare her as much as he

could, and her tears cut him to the heart. He could not speak again

immediately; but Rosamond did not go on sobbing: she tried to conquer

her agitation and wiped away her tears, continuing to look before her

at the mantel-piece.




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