by George Eliot
CHAPTER LXIII.
These little things are great to little man.--GOLDSMITH.
"Have you seen much of your scientific phoenix, Lydgate, lately?" saidMr. Toller at one of his Christmas dinner-parties, speaking to Mr.Farebrother on his right hand.
"Not much, I am sorry to say," answered the Vicar, accustomed to parryMr. Toller's banter about his belief in the new medical light. "I amout of the way and he is too busy."
"Is he? I am glad to hear it," said Dr. Minchin, with mingled suavityand surprise.
"He gives a great deal of time to the New Hospital," said Mr.Farebrother, who had his reasons for continuing the subject: "I hear ofthat from my neighbor, Mrs. Casaubon, who goes there often. She saysLydgate is indefatigable, and is making a fine thing of Bulstrode'sinstitution. He is preparing a new ward in case of the cholera comingto us."
"And preparing theories of treatment to try on the patients, Isuppose," said Mr. Toller.
"Come, Toller, be candid," said Mr. Farebrother. "You are too clevernot to see the good of a bold fresh mind in medicine, as well as ineverything else; and as to cholera, I fancy, none of you are very surewhat you ought to do. If a man goes a little too far along a new road,it is usually himself that he harms more than any one else."
"I am sure you and Wrench ought to be obliged to him," said Dr.Minchin, looking towards Toller, "for he has sent you the cream ofPeacock's patients."
"Lydgate has been living at a great rate for a young beginner," saidMr. Harry Toller, the brewer. "I suppose his relations in the Northback him up."
"I hope so," said Mr. Chichely, "else he ought not to have married thatnice girl we were all so fond of. Hang it, one has a grudge against aman who carries off the prettiest girl in the town."
"Ay, by God! and the best too," said Mr. Standish.
"My friend Vincy didn't half like the marriage, I know that," said Mr.Chichely. "_He_ wouldn't do much. How the relations on the other sidemay have come down I can't say." There was an emphatic kind ofreticence in Mr. Chichely's manner of speaking.
"Oh, I shouldn't think Lydgate ever looked to practice for a living,"said Mr. Toller, with a slight touch of sarcasm, and there the subjectwas dropped.
This was not the first time that Mr. Farebrother had heard hints ofLydgate's expenses being obviously too great to be met by his practice,but he thought it not unlikely that there were resources orexpectations which excused the large outlay at the time of Lydgate'smarriage, and which might hinder any bad consequences from thedisappointment in his practice. One evening, when he took the pains togo to Middlemarch on purpose to have a chat with Lydgate as of old, henoticed in him an air of excited effort quite unlike his usual easy wayof keeping silence or breaking it with abrupt energy whenever he hadanything to say. Lydgate talked persistently when they were in hiswork-room, putting arguments for and against the probability of certainbiological views; but he had none of those definite things to say or toshow which give the waymarks of a patient uninterrupted pursuit, suchas he used himself to insist on, saying that "there must be a systoleand diastole in all inquiry," and that "a man's mind must becontinually expanding and shrinking between the whole human horizon andthe horizon of an object-glass." That evening he seemed to be talkingwidely for the sake of resisting any personal bearing; and before longthey went into the drawing room, where Lydgate, having asked Rosamondto give them music, sank back in his chair in silence, but with astrange light in his eyes. "He may have been taking an opiate," was athought that crossed Mr. Farebrother's mind--"tic-douloureuxperhaps--or medical worries."
It did not occur to him that Lydgate's marriage was not delightful: hebelieved, as the rest did, that Rosamond was an amiable, docilecreature, though he had always thought her rather uninteresting--alittle too much the pattern-card of the finishing-school; and hismother could not forgive Rosamond because she never seemed to see thatHenrietta Noble was in the room. "However, Lydgate fell in love withher," said the Vicar to himself, "and she must be to his taste."
Mr. Farebrother was aware that Lydgate was a proud man, but having verylittle corresponding fibre in himself, and perhaps too little careabout personal dignity, except the dignity of not being mean orfoolish, he could hardly allow enough for the way in which Lydgateshrank, as from a burn, from the utterance of any word about hisprivate affairs. And soon after that conversation at Mr. Toller's, theVicar learned something which made him watch the more eagerly for anopportunity of indirectly letting Lydgate know that if he wanted toopen himself about any difficulty there was a friendly ear ready.
The opportunity came at Mr. Vincy's, where, on New Year's Day, therewas a party, to which Mr. Farebrother was irresistibly invited, on theplea that he must not forsake his old friends on the first new year ofhis being a greater man, and Rector as well as Vicar. And this partywas thoroughly friendly: all the ladies of the Farebrother family werepresent; the Vincy children all dined at the table, and Fred hadpersuaded his mother that if she did not invite Mary Garth, theFarebrothers would regard it as a slight to themselves, Mary beingtheir particular friend. Mary came, and Fred was in high spirits,though his enjoyment was of a checkered kind--triumph that his mothershould see Mary's importance with the chief personages in the partybeing much streaked with jealousy when Mr. Farebrother sat down by her.Fred used to be much more easy about his own accomplishments in thedays when he had not begun to dread being "bowled out by Farebrother,"and this terror was still before him. Mrs. Vincy, in her fullestmatronly bloom, looked at Mary's little figure, rough wavy hair, andvisage quite without lilies and roses, and wondered; tryingunsuccessfully to fancy herself caring about Mary's appearance inwedding clothes, or feeling complacency in grandchildren who would"feature" the Garths. However, the party was a merry one, and Mary wasparticularly bright; being glad, for Fred's sake, that his friends weregetting kinder to her, and being also quite willing that they shouldsee how much she was valued by others whom they must admit to be judges.
Mr. Farebrother noticed that Lydgate seemed bored, and that Mr. Vincyspoke as little as possible to his son-in-law. Rosamond was perfectlygraceful and calm, and only a subtle observation such as the Vicar hadnot been roused to bestow on her would have perceived the total absenceof that interest in her husband's presence which a loving wife is sureto betray, even if etiquette keeps her aloof from him. When Lydgatewas taking part in the conversation, she never looked towards him anymore than if she had been a sculptured Psyche modelled to look anotherway: and when, after being called out for an hour or two, he re-enteredthe room, she seemed unconscious of the fact, which eighteen monthsbefore would have had the effect of a numeral before ciphers. Inreality, however, she was intensely aware of Lydgate's voice andmovements; and her pretty good-tempered air of unconsciousness was astudied negation by which she satisfied her inward opposition to himwithout compromise of propriety. When the ladies were in thedrawing-room after Lydgate had been called away from the dessert, Mrs.Farebrother, when Rosamond happened to be near her, said--"You have togive up a great deal of your husband's society, Mrs. Lydgate."
"Yes, the life of a medical man is very arduous: especially when he isso devoted to his profession as Mr. Lydgate is," said Rosamond, who wasstanding, and moved easily away at the end of this correct littlespeech.
"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 sowhen Rosamond was ill, and I was staying with her. You know, Mrs.Farebrother, ours is a cheerful house. I am of a cheerful dispositionmyself, and Mr. Vincy always likes something to be going on. That iswhat Rosamond has been used to. Very different from a husband out atodd hours, and never knowing when he will come home, and of a close,proud disposition, _I_ think"--indiscreet Mrs. Vincy did lower her toneslightly with this parenthesis. "But Rosamond always had an angel of atemper; her brothers used very often not to please her, but she wasnever the girl to show temper; from a baby she was always as good asgood, and with a complexion beyond anyt
hing. But my children are allgood-tempered, thank God."
This was easily credible to any one looking at Mrs. Vincy as she threwback her broad cap-strings, and smiled towards her three little girls,aged from seven to eleven. But in that smiling glance she was obligedto include Mary Garth, whom the three girls had got into a corner tomake her tell them stories. Mary was just finishing the delicious taleof Rumpelstiltskin, which she had well by heart, because Letty wasnever tired of communicating it to her ignorant elders from a favoritered volume. Louisa, Mrs. Vincy's darling, now ran to her withwide-eyed serious excitement, crying, "Oh mamma, mamma, the little manstamped so hard on the floor he couldn't get his leg out again!"
"Bless you, my cherub!" said mamma; "you shall tell me all about itto-morrow. Go and listen!" and then, as her eyes followed Louisa backtowards the attractive corner, she thought that if Fred wished her toinvite Mary again she would make no objection, the children being sopleased with her.
But presently the corner became still more animated, for Mr.Farebrother came in, and seating himself behind Louisa, took her on hislap; whereupon the girls all insisted that he must hearRumpelstiltskin, and Mary must tell it over again. He insisted too,and Mary, without fuss, began again in her neat fashion, with preciselythe same words as before. Fred, who had also seated himself near,would have felt unmixed triumph in Mary's effectiveness if Mr.Farebrother had not been looking at her with evident admiration, whilehe dramatized an intense interest in the tale to please the children.
"You will never care any more about my one-eyed giant, Loo," said Fredat the end.
"Yes, I shall. Tell about him now," said Louisa.
"Oh, I dare say; I am quite cut out. Ask Mr. Farebrother."
"Yes," added Mary; "ask Mr. Farebrother to tell you about the antswhose beautiful house was knocked down by a giant named Tom, and hethought they didn't mind because he couldn't hear them cry, or see themuse their pocket-handkerchiefs."
"Please," said Louisa, looking up at the Vicar.
"No, no, I am a grave old parson. If I try to draw a story out of mybag a sermon comes instead. Shall I preach you a sermon?" said he,putting on his short-sighted glasses, and pursing up his lips.
"Yes," said Louisa, falteringly.
"Let me see, then. Against cakes: how cakes are bad things, especiallyif they are sweet and have plums in them."
Louisa took the affair rather seriously, and got down from the Vicar'sknee to go to Fred.
"Ah, I see it will not do to preach on New Year's Day," said Mr.Farebrother, rising and walking away. He had discovered of late thatFred had become jealous of him, and also that he himself was not losinghis preference for Mary above all other women.
"A delightful young person is Miss Garth," said Mrs. Farebrother, whohad been watching her son's movements.
"Yes," said Mrs. Vincy, obliged to reply, as the old lady turned to herexpectantly. "It is a pity she is not better-looking."
"I cannot say that," said Mrs. Farebrother, decisively. "I like hercountenance. We must not always ask for beauty, when a good God hasseen fit to make an excellent young woman without it. I put goodmanners first, and Miss Garth will know how to conduct herself in anystation."
The old lady was a little sharp in her tone, having a prospectivereference to Mary's becoming her daughter-in-law; for there was thisinconvenience in Mary's position with regard to Fred, that it was notsuitable to be made public, and hence the three ladies at LowickParsonage were still hoping that Camden would choose Miss Garth.
New visitors entered, and the drawing-room was given up to music andgames, while whist-tables were prepared in the quiet room on the otherside of the hall. Mr. Farebrother played a rubber to satisfy hismother, who regarded her occasional whist as a protest against scandaland novelty of opinion, in which light even a revoke had its dignity.But at the end he got Mr. Chichely to take his place, and left theroom. As he crossed the hall, Lydgate had just come in and was takingoff his great-coat.
"You are the man I was going to look for," said the Vicar; and insteadof entering the drawing-room, they walked along the hall and stoodagainst the fireplace, where the frosty air helped to make a glowingbank. "You see, I can leave the whist-table easily enough," he wenton, smiling at Lydgate, "now I don't play for money. I owe that toyou, Mrs. Casaubon says."
"How?" said Lydgate, coldly.
"Ah, you didn't mean me to know it; I call that ungenerous reticence.You should let a man have the pleasure of feeling that you have donehim a good turn. I don't enter into some people's dislike of beingunder an obligation: upon my word, I prefer being under an obligationto everybody for behaving well to me."
"I can't tell what you mean," said Lydgate, "unless it is that I oncespoke of you to Mrs. Casaubon. But I did not think that she wouldbreak her promise not to mention that I had done so," said Lydgate,leaning his back against the corner of the mantel-piece, and showing noradiance in his face.
"It was Brooke who let it out, only the other day. He paid me thecompliment of saying that he was very glad I had the living though youhad come across his tactics, and had praised me up as a lien and aTillotson, and that sort of thing, till Mrs. Casaubon would hear of noone else."
"Oh, Brooke is such a leaky-minded fool," said Lydgate, contemptuously.
"Well, I was glad of the leakiness then. I don't see why you shouldn'tlike me to know that you wished to do me a service, my dear fellow.And you certainly have done me one. It's rather a strong check toone's self-complacency to find how much of one's right doing depends onnot being in want of money. A man will not be tempted to say theLord's Prayer backward to please the devil, if he doesn't want thedevil's services. I have no need to hang on the smiles of chance now."
"I don't see that there's any money-getting without chance," saidLydgate; "if a man gets it in a profession, it's pretty sure to come bychance."
Mr. Farebrother thought he could account for this speech, in strikingcontrast with Lydgate's former way of talking, as the perversity whichwill often spring from the moodiness of a man ill at ease in hisaffairs. He answered in a tone of good-humored admission--
"Ah, there's enormous patience wanted with the way of the world. Butit is the easier for a man to wait patiently when he has friends wholove him, and ask for nothing better than to help him through, so faras it lies in their power."
"Oh yes," said Lydgate, in a careless tone, changing his attitude andlooking at his watch. "People make much more of their difficultiesthan they need to do."
He knew as distinctly as possible that this was an offer of help tohimself from Mr. Farebrother, and he could not bear it. So strangelydetermined are we mortals, that, after having been long gratified withthe sense that he had privately done the Vicar a service, thesuggestion that the Vicar discerned his need of a service in returnmade him shrink into unconquerable reticence. Besides, behind allmaking of such offers what else must come?--that he should "mention hiscase," imply that he wanted specific things. At that moment, suicideseemed easier.
Mr. Farebrother was too keen a man not to know the meaning of thatreply, and there was a certain massiveness in Lydgate's manner andtone, corresponding with his physique, which if he repelled youradvances in the first instance seemed to put persuasive devices out ofquestion.
"What time are you?" said the Vicar, devouring his wounded feeling.
"After eleven," said Lydgate. And they went into the drawing-room.
