"Oh, if you think of living as the Wrenches do!" said Rosamond, with a
little turn of her neck. "But I have heard you express your disgust at
that way of living."
"Yes, they have bad taste in everything--they make economy look ugly.
We needn't do that. I only meant that they avoid expenses, although
Wrench has a capital practice."
"Why should not you have a good practice, Tertius? Mr. Peacock had.
You should be more careful not to offend people, and you should send
out medicines as the others do. I am sure you began well, and you got
several good houses. It cannot answer to be eccentric; you should
think what will be generally liked," said Rosamond, in a decided little
tone of admonition.
Lydgate's anger rose: he was prepared to be indulgent towards feminine
weakness, but not towards feminine dictation. The shallowness of a
waternixie's soul may have a charm until she becomes didactic. But he
controlled himself, and only said, with a touch of despotic firmness--
"What I am to do in my practice, Rosy, it is for me to judge. That is
not the question between us. It is enough for you to know that our
income is likely to be a very narrow one--hardly four hundred, perhaps
less, for a long time to come, and we must try to re-arrange our lives
in accordance with that fact."
Rosamond was silent for a moment or two, looking before her, and then
said, "My uncle Bulstrode ought to allow you a salary for the time you
give to the Hospital: it is not right that you should work for nothing."
"It was understood from the beginning that my services would be
gratuitous. That, again, need not enter into our discussion. I have
pointed out what is the only probability," said Lydgate, impatiently.
Then checking himself, he went on more quietly--
"I think I see one resource which would free us from a good deal of the
present difficulty. I hear that young Ned Plymdale is going to be
married to Miss Sophy Toller. They are rich, and it is not often that
a good house is vacant in Middlemarch. I feel sure that they would be
glad to take this house from us with most of our furniture, and they
would be willing to pay handsomely for the lease. I can employ
Trumbull to speak to Plymdale about it."
Rosamond left her husband's knee and walked slowly to the other end of
the room; when she turned round and walked towards him it was evident
that the tears had come, and that she was biting her under-lip and
clasping her hands to keep herself from crying. Lydgate was
wretched--shaken with anger and yet feeling that it would be unmanly to
vent the anger just now.