When she repeated Fred's news to Lydgate, he said, "Take care you don't
drop the faintest hint to Ladislaw, Rosy. He is likely to fly out as
if you insulted him. Of course it is a painful affair."
Rosamond turned her neck and patted her hair, looking the image of
placid indifference. But the next time Will came when Lydgate was
away, she spoke archly about his not going to London as he had
threatened.
"I know all about it. I have a confidential little bird," said she,
showing very pretty airs of her head over the bit of work held high
between her active fingers. "There is a powerful magnet in this
neighborhood."
"To be sure there is. Nobody knows that better than you," said Will,
with light gallantry, but inwardly prepared to be angry.
"It is really the most charming romance: Mr. Casaubon jealous, and
foreseeing that there was no one else whom Mrs. Casaubon would so much
like to marry, and no one who would so much like to marry her as a
certain gentleman; and then laying a plan to spoil all by making her
forfeit her property if she did marry that gentleman--and then--and
then--and then--oh, I have no doubt the end will be thoroughly
romantic."
"Great God! what do you mean?" said Will, flushing over face and ears,
his features seeming to change as if he had had a violent shake.
"Don't joke; tell me what you mean."
"You don't really know?" said Rosamond, no longer playful, and desiring
nothing better than to tell in order that she might evoke effects.
"No!" he returned, impatiently.
"Don't know that Mr. Casaubon has left it in his will that if Mrs.
Casaubon marries you she is to forfeit all her property?"
"How do you know that it is true?" said Will, eagerly.
"My brother Fred heard it from the Farebrothers." Will started up from
his chair and reached his hat.
"I dare say she likes you better than the property," said Rosamond,
looking at him from a distance.
"Pray don't say any more about it," said Will, in a hoarse undertone
extremely unlike his usual light voice. "It is a foul insult to her
and to me." Then he sat down absently, looking before him, but seeing
nothing.
"Now you are angry with _me_," said Rosamond. "It is too bad to bear
_me_ malice. You ought to be obliged to me for telling you."
"So I am," said Will, abruptly, speaking with that kind of double soul
which belongs to dreamers who answer questions.
"I expect to hear of the marriage," said Rosamond, playfully.
"Never! You will never hear of the marriage!"