“Oh, my dear, be more thoughtful; don’t despise your neighbors so.  Remember you are turned twenty-two now, and you will have no fortune:  your father, I am sure, will not be able to spare you anything.  Mr. Lydgate is very intellectual and clever; I know there is an attraction in that.  I like talking to such men myself; and your uncle finds him very useful.  But the profession is a poor one here.  To be sure, this life is not everything; but it is seldom a medical man has true religious views—­there is too much pride of intellect.  And you are not fit to marry a poor man.

“Mr. Lydgate is not a poor man, aunt.  He has very high connections.”

“He told me himself he was poor.”

“That is because he is used to people who have a high style

“My dear Rosamond, you must not think of living in high style.”

Rosamond looked down and played with her reticule.  She was not a fiery young lady and had no sharp answers, but she meant to live as she pleased.

“Then it is really true?” said Mrs. Bulstrode, looking very earnestly at her niece.  “You are thinking of Mr. Lydgate—­there is some understanding between you, though your father doesn’t know.  Be open, my dear Rosamond:  Mr. Lydgate has really made you an offer?”

Poor Rosamond’s feelings were very unpleasant.  She had been quite easy as to Lydgate’s feeling and intention, but now when her aunt put this question she did not like being unable to say Yes.  Her pride was hurt, but her habitual control of manner helped her.

“Pray excuse me, aunt.  I would rather not speak on the subject.”

“You would not give your heart to a man without a decided prospect, I trust, my dear.  And think of the two excellent offers I know of that you have refused!—­and one still within your reach, if you will not throw it away.  I knew a very great beauty who married badly at last, by doing so.  Mr. Ned Plymdale is a nice young man—­ some might think good-looking; and an only son; and a large business of that kind is better than a profession.  Not that marrying is everything.  I would have you seek first the kingdom of God.  But a girl should keep her heart within her own power.”

“I should never give it to Mr. Ned Plymdale, if it were.  I have already refused him.  If I loved, I should love at once and without change,” said Rosamond, with a great sense of being a romantic heroine, and playing the part prettily.

“I see how it is, my dear,” said Mrs. Bulstrode, in a melancholy voice, rising to go.  “You have allowed your affections to be engaged without return.”

“No, indeed, aunt,” said Rosamond, with emphasis.

“Then you are quite confident that Mr. Lydgate has a serious attachment to you?”

Rosamond’s cheeks by this time were persistently burning, and she felt much mortification.  She chose to be silent, and her aunt went away all the more convinced.