But Rosamond herself touched on it at breakfast by saying, mildly--
"Have you spoken to Trumbull yet?"
"No," said Lydgate, "but I shall call on him as I go by this morning.
No time must be lost." He took Rosamond's question as a sign that
she withdrew her inward opposition, and kissed her head caressingly
when he got up to go away.
As soon as it was late enough to make a call, Rosamond went to Mrs.
Plymdale, Mr. Ned's mother, and entered with pretty congratulations
into the subject of the coming marriage. Mrs. Plymdale's maternal
view was, that Rosamond might possibly now have retrospective
glimpses of her own folly; and feeling the advantages to be at
present all on the side of her son, was too kind a woman not to
behave graciously.
"Yes, Ned is most happy, I must say. And Sophy Toller is all
I could desire in a daughter-in-law. Of course her father is
able to do something handsome for her--that is only what would
be expected with a brewery like his. And the connection is
everything we should desire. But that is not what I look at.
She is such a very nice girl--no airs, no pretensions, though on
a level with the first. I don't mean with the titled aristocracy.
I see very little good in people aiming out of their own sphere.
I mean that Sophy is equal to the best in the town, and she is
contented with that.
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