Middlemarch - Page 484/561

Metaphors and precedents were not wanting; peculiar spiritual

experiences were not wanting which at last made the retention of his

position seem a service demanded of him: the vista of a fortune had

already opened itself, and Bulstrode's shrinking remained private. Mr.

Dunkirk had never expected that there would be any shrinking at all: he

had never conceived that trade had anything to do with the scheme of

salvation. And it was true that Bulstrode found himself carrying on

two distinct lives; his religious activity could not be incompatible

with his business as soon as he had argued himself into not feeling it

incompatible.

Mentally surrounded with that past again, Bulstrode had the same

pleas--indeed, the years had been perpetually spinning them into

intricate thickness, like masses of spider-web, padding the moral

sensibility; nay, as age made egoism more eager but less enjoying, his

soul had become more saturated with the belief that he did everything

for God's sake, being indifferent to it for his own. And yet--if he

could be back in that far-off spot with his youthful poverty--why, then

he would choose to be a missionary.

But the train of causes in which he had locked himself went on. There

was trouble in the fine villa at Highbury. Years before, the only

daughter had run away, defied her parents, and gone on the stage; and

now the only boy died, and after a short time Mr. Dunkirk died also.

The wife, a simple pious woman, left with all the wealth in and out of

the magnificent trade, of which she never knew the precise nature, had

come to believe in Bulstrode, and innocently adore him as women often

adore their priest or "man-made" minister. It was natural that after a

time marriage should have been thought of between them. But Mrs.

Dunkirk had qualms and yearnings about her daughter, who had long been

regarded as lost both to God and her parents. It was known that the

daughter had married, but she was utterly gone out of sight. The

mother, having lost her boy, imagined a grandson, and wished in a

double sense to reclaim her daughter. If she were found, there would

be a channel for property--perhaps a wide one--in the provision for

several grandchildren. Efforts to find her must be made before Mrs.

Dunkirk would marry again. Bulstrode concurred; but after

advertisement as well as other modes of inquiry had been tried, the

mother believed that her daughter was not to be found, and consented to

marry without reservation of property.

The daughter had been found; but only one man besides Bulstrode knew

it, and he was paid for keeping silence and carrying himself away.