Middlemarch - Page 21/561

"I should learn everything then," she said to herself, still walking

quickly along the bridle road through the wood. "It would be my duty

to study that I might help him the better in his great works. There

would be nothing trivial about our lives. Every-day things with us

would mean the greatest things. It would be like marrying Pascal. I

should learn to see the truth by the same light as great men have seen

it by. And then I should know what to do, when I got older: I should

see how it was possible to lead a grand life here--now--in England. I

don't feel sure about doing good in any way now: everything seems like

going on a mission to a people whose language I don't know;--unless it

were building good cottages--there can be no doubt about that. Oh, I

hope I should be able to get the people well housed in Lowick! I will

draw plenty of plans while I have time."

Dorothea checked herself suddenly with self-rebuke for the presumptuous

way in which she was reckoning on uncertain events, but she was spared

any inward effort to change the direction of her thoughts by the

appearance of a cantering horseman round a turning of the road. The

well-groomed chestnut horse and two beautiful setters could leave no

doubt that the rider was Sir James Chettam. He discerned Dorothea,

jumped off his horse at once, and, having delivered it to his groom,

advanced towards her with something white on his arm, at which the two

setters were barking in an excited manner.

"How delightful to meet you, Miss Brooke," he said, raising his hat and

showing his sleekly waving blond hair. "It has hastened the pleasure I

was looking forward to."

Miss Brooke was annoyed at the interruption. This amiable baronet,

really a suitable husband for Celia, exaggerated the necessity of

making himself agreeable to the elder sister. Even a prospective

brother-in-law may be an oppression if he will always be presupposing

too good an understanding with you, and agreeing with you even when you

contradict him. The thought that he had made the mistake of paying his

addresses to herself could not take shape: all her mental activity was

used up in persuasions of another kind. But he was positively

obtrusive at this moment, and his dimpled hands were quite

disagreeable. Her roused temper made her color deeply, as she returned

his greeting with some haughtiness.

Sir James interpreted the heightened color in the way most gratifying

to himself, and thought he never saw Miss Brooke looking so handsome.

"I have brought a little petitioner," he said, "or rather, I have

brought him to see if he will be approved before his petition is

offered." He showed the white object under his arm, which was a tiny

Maltese puppy, one of nature's most naive toys.