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Those words of Lydgate's were like a sad milestone marking how far he had travelled from his old dreamland, in which Rosamond Vincy appeared to be that perfect piece of womanhood who would reverence her husband's mind after the fashion of an accomplished mermaid, using her comb and looking-glass and singing her song for the relaxation of his adored wisdom alone.
Farebrother, one day that the Vicar came to his room with some pond-products which he wanted to examine under a better microscope than his own, and, finding Lydgate's tableful of apparatus and specimens in confusion, said sarcastically "Eros has degenerated; he began by introducing order and harmony, and now he brings back chaos."
But the case continued to be described as one of tumor in Churchyard Lane and other streets nay, by Mrs. Larcher also; for when Lydgate's remarkable cure was mentioned to Dr. Minchin, he naturally did not like to say, "The case was not one of tumor, and I was mistaken in describing it as such," but answered, "Indeed! ah! I saw it was a surgical case, not of a fatal kind."
"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.
Bulstrode, having heard of Lydgate's debts, had been anxious to know whether her husband could not do something for poor Rosamond, and had been much troubled on learning from him that Lydgate's affairs were not easily remediable, and that the wisest plan was to let them "take their course." Mrs.
In this way any difficulty as to the adequate maintenance of our new establishment will be removed; the benevolent interests of the town will cease to be divided." Mr. Bulstrode had lowered his eyes from Lydgate's face to the buttons of his coat as he again paused. "No doubt that is a good device as to ways and means," said Lydgate, with an edge of irony in his tone.
Hawley rode home without thinking of Lydgate's attendance on Raffles in any other light than as a piece of evidence on the side of Bulstrode.
Her most cheerful supposition was that her aunt Bulstrode had interfered in some way to hinder Lydgate's visits: everything was better than a spontaneous indifference in him.
Bulstrode, not intending to evade Lydgate's allusion, but really preoccupied with alarms about himself.
But report took up this amazing case of tumor, not clearly distinguished from cancer, and considered the more awful for being of the wandering sort; till much prejudice against Lydgate's method as to drugs was overcome by the proof of his marvellous skill in the speedy restoration of Nancy Nash after she had been rolling and rolling in agonies from the presence of a tumor both hard and obstinate, but nevertheless compelled to yield.
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