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Eliot, George, 1819-1880

"Middlemarch"


After they had been silent a little, she said--
"You are not sorry that I came this morning?"
"No, you have been very good to me," said Rosamond. "I did not think
that you would be so good. I was very unhappy. I am not happy now.
Everything is so sad."
"But better days will come. Your husband will be rightly valued.
And he depends on you for comfort. He loves you best.
The worst loss would be to lose that--and you have not lost it,"
said Dorothea.
She tried to thrust away the too overpowering thought of her
own relief, lest she should fail to win some sign that Rosamond's
affection was yearning back towards her husband.
"Tertius did not find fault with me, then?" said Rosamond,
understanding now that Lydgate might have said anything to
Mrs. Casaubon, and that she certainly was different from other women.
Perhaps there was a faint taste of jealousy in the question.
A smile began to play over Dorothea's face as she said--
"No, indeed! How could you imagine it?" But here the door opened,
and Lydgate entered.
"I am come back in my quality of doctor," he said. "After I
went away, I was haunted by two pale faces: Mrs. Casaubon looked
as much in need of care as you, Rosy. And I thought that I
had not done my duty in leaving you together; so when I had been
to Coleman's I came home again. I noticed that you were walking,
Mrs.


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