"Ah, yes: one of your secret committee," said Mrs. Cadwallader,
provokingly.
"A coursing fellow, though," said Sir James, with a fox-hunter's
disgust.
"And one of those who suck the life out of the wretched handloom
weavers in Tipton and Freshitt. That is how his family look so fair
and sleek," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Those dark, purple-faced people
are an excellent foil. Dear me, they are like a set of jugs! Do look
at Humphrey: one might fancy him an ugly archangel towering above them
in his white surplice."
"It's a solemn thing, though, a funeral," said Mr. Brooke, "if you take
it in that light, you know."
"But I am not taking it in that light. I can't wear my solemnity too
often, else it will go to rags. It was time the old man died, and none
of these people are sorry."
"How piteous!" said Dorothea. "This funeral seems to me the most
dismal thing I ever saw. It is a blot on the morning I cannot bear to
think that any one should die and leave no love behind."
She was going to say more, but she saw her husband enter and seat
himself a little in the background. The difference his presence made
to her was not always a happy one: she felt that he often inwardly
objected to her speech.
"Positively," exclaimed Mrs. Cadwallader, "there is a new face come out
from behind that broad man queerer than any of them: a little round
head with bulging eyes--a sort of frog-face--do look. He must be of
another blood, I think."
"Let me see!" said Celia, with awakened curiosity, standing behind Mrs.
Cadwallader and leaning forward over her head. "Oh, what an odd face!"
Then with a quick change to another sort of surprised expression, she
added, "Why, Dodo, you never told me that Mr. Ladislaw was come again!"
Dorothea felt a shock of alarm: every one noticed her sudden paleness
as she looked up immediately at her uncle, while Mr. Casaubon looked at
her.
"He came with me, you know; he is my guest--puts up with me at the
Grange," said Mr. Brooke, in his easiest tone, nodding at Dorothea, as
if the announcement were just what she might have expected. "And we
have brought the picture at the top of the carriage. I knew you would
be pleased with the surprise, Casaubon. There you are to the very
life--as Aquinas, you know. Quite the right sort of thing. And you
will hear young Ladislaw talk about it. He talks uncommonly
well--points out this, that, and the other--knows art and everything of
that kind--companionable, you know--is up with you in any track--what
I've been wanting a long while."