"Perhaps some one else may turn up. I told Trumbull to be on the
look-out if he failed with Plymdale."
Rosamond made no remark. She trusted to the chance that nothing more
would pass between her husband and the auctioneer until some issue
should have justified her interference; at any rate, she had hindered
the event which she immediately dreaded. After a pause, she said--
"How much money is it that those disagreeable people want?"
"What disagreeable people?"
"Those who took the list--and the others. I mean, how much money would
satisfy them so that you need not be troubled any more?"
Lydgate surveyed her for a moment, as if he were looking for symptoms,
and then said, "Oh, if I could have got six hundred from Plymdale for
furniture and as premium, I might have managed. I could have paid off
Dover, and given enough on account to the others to make them wait
patiently, if we contracted our expenses."
"But I mean how much should you want if we stayed in this house?"
"More than I am likely to get anywhere," said Lydgate, with rather a
grating sarcasm in his tone. It angered him to perceive that
Rosamond's mind was wandering over impracticable wishes instead of
facing possible efforts.
"Why should you not mention the sum?" said Rosamond, with a mild
indication that she did not like his manners.
"Well," said Lydgate in a guessing tone, "it would take at least a
thousand to set me at ease. But," he added, incisively, "I have to
consider what I shall do without it, not with it."
Rosamond said no more.
But the next day she carried out her plan of writing to Sir Godwin
Lydgate. Since the Captain's visit, she had received a letter from
him, and also one from Mrs. Mengan, his married sister, condoling with
her on the loss of her baby, and expressing vaguely the hope that they
should see her again at Quallingham. Lydgate had told her that this
politeness meant nothing; but she was secretly convinced that any
backwardness in Lydgate's family towards him was due to his cold and
contemptuous behavior, and she had answered the letters in her most
charming manner, feeling some confidence that a specific invitation
would follow. But there had been total silence. The Captain evidently
was not a great penman, and Rosamond reflected that the sisters might
have been abroad. However, the season was come for thinking of friends
at home, and at any rate Sir Godwin, who had chucked her under the
chin, and pronounced her to be like the celebrated beauty, Mrs. Croly,
who had made a conquest of him in 1790, would be touched by any appeal
from her, and would find it pleasant for her sake to behave as he ought
to do towards his nephew. Rosamond was naively convinced of what an
old gentleman ought to do to prevent her from suffering annoyance. And
she wrote what she considered the most judicious letter possible--one
which would strike Sir Godwin as a proof of her excellent sense--pointing
out how desirable it was that Tertius should quit such a place
as Middlemarch for one more fitted to his talents, how the unpleasant
character of the inhabitants had hindered his professional success, and
how in consequence he was in money difficulties, from which it would
require a thousand pounds thoroughly to extricate him. She did not say
that Tertius was unaware of her intention to write; for she had the
idea that his supposed sanction of her letter would be in accordance
with what she did say of his great regard for his uncle Godwin as the
relative who had always been his best friend. Such was the force of
Poor Rosamond's tactics now she applied them to affairs.