rs, saying--

"Dear!" with the lingering utterance which affection gives to the word.
Rosamond too was still under the power of that same past, and her
husband was still in part the Lydgate whose approval had stirred
delight. She put his hair lightly away from his forehead, then laid
her other hand on his, and was conscious of forgiving him.

"I am obliged to tell you what will hurt you, Rosy. But there are
things which husband and wife must think of together. I dare say it
has occurred to you already that I am short of money."

Lydgate paused; but Rosamond turned her neck and looked at a vase on
the mantel-piece.

"I was not able to pay for all the things we had to get before we were
married, and there have been expenses since which I have been obliged
to meet. The consequence is, there is a large debt at Brassing--three
hundred and eighty pounds--which has been pressing on me a good while,
and in fact we are getting deeper every day, for people don't pay me
the faster because others want the money. I took pains to keep it from
you while you were not well; but now we must think together about it,
and you must help me."

"What can--I--do, Tertius?" said Rosamond, turning her eyes on him
again. That little speech of four words, like so many others in all
languages, is capable by varied vocal inflections of expressing all
states of mind from helpless dimness to exhaustive argumentative
perception, from the completest self-devoting fellowship to the most
neutral aloofness. Rosamond's thin utterance threw into the words
"What can--I--do!" as much neutrality as they could hold. They fell
like a mortal chill on Lydgate's roused tenderness. He did not storm
in indignation--he felt too sad a sinking of the heart. And when he
spoke again it was more in the tone of a man who forces himself to
fulfil a task.

"It is necessary for you to know, because I have to give security for a
time, and a man must come to make an inventory of the furniture."

Rosamond colored deeply. "Have you not asked papa for money?" she
said, as soon as she could speak.

"No."

"Then I must ask him!" she said, releasing her hands from Lydgate's,
and rising to stand at two yards' distance from him.

"No, Rosy," said Lydgate, decisively. "It is too late to do that. The
inventory will be begun to-morrow. Remember it is a mere security: it
will make no difference: it is a temporary affair. I insist upon it
that your father shall not k