Mr. Farebrother noticed that Lydgate seemed bored, and that Mr. Vincy

spoke as little as possible to his son-in-law. Rosamond was perfectly

graceful and calm, and only a subtle observation such as the Vicar had

not been roused to bestow on her would have perceived the total absence

of that interest in her husband's presence which a loving wife is sure

to betray, even if etiquette keeps her aloof from him. When Lydgate

was taking part in the conversation, she never looked towards him any

more than if she had been a sculptured Psyche modelled to look another

way: and when, after being called out for an hour or two, he re-entered

the room, she seemed unconscious of the fact, which eighteen months

before would have had the effect of a numeral before ciphers. In

reality, however, she was intensely aware of Lydgate's voice and

movements; and her pretty good-tempered air of unconsciousness was a

studied negation by which she satisfied her inward opposition to him

without compromise of propriety. When the ladies were in the

drawing-room after Lydgate had been called away from the dessert, Mrs.

Farebrother, when Rosamond happened to be near her, said--"You have to

give up a great deal of your husband's society, Mrs. Lydgate."

"Yes, the life of a medical man is very arduous: especially when he is

so devoted to his profession as Mr. Lydgate is," said Rosamond, who was

standing, and moved easily away at the end of this correct little

speech.

"It is dreadfully dull for her when there is no company," said Mrs.

Vincy, who was seated at the old lady's side. "I am sure I thought so

when Rosamond was ill, and I was staying with her. You know, Mrs.

Farebrother, ours is a cheerful house. I am of a cheerful disposition

myself, and Mr. Vincy always likes something to be going on. That is

what Rosamond has been used to. Very different from a husband out at

odd hours, and never knowing when he will come home, and of a close,

proud disposition, _I_ think"--indiscreet Mrs. Vincy did lower her tone

slightly with this parenthesis. "But Rosamond always had an angel of a

temper; her brothers used very often not to please her, but she was

never the girl to show temper; from a baby she was always as good as

good, and with a complexion beyond anything. But my children are all

good-tempered, thank God."

This was easily credible to any one looking at Mrs. Vincy as she threw

back her broad cap-strings, and smiled towards her three little girls,

aged from seven to eleven. But in that smiling glance she was obliged

to include Mary Garth, whom the three girls had got into a corner to

make her tell them stories. Mary was just finishing the delicious tale

of Rumpelstiltskin, which she had well by heart, because Letty was

never tired of communicating it to her ignorant elders from a favorite

red volume. Louisa, Mrs. Vincy's darling, now ran to her with

wide-eyed serious excitement, crying, "Oh mamma, mamma, the little man

stamped so hard on the floor he couldn't get his leg out again!"




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