Mrs. Vincy’s belief that Rosamond could manage her papa was well founded.  Apart from his dinners and his coursing, Mr. Vincy, blustering as he was, had as little of his own way as if he had been a prime minister:  the force of circumstances was easily too much for him, as it is for most pleasure-loving florid men; and the circumstance called Rosamond was particularly forcible by means of that mild persistence which, as we know, enables a white soft living substance to make its way in spite of opposing rock.  Papa was not a rock:  he had no other fixity than that fixity of alternating impulses sometimes called habit, and this was altogether unfavorable to his taking the only decisive line of conduct in relation to his daughter’s engagement—­namely, to inquire thoroughly into Lydgate’s circumstances, declare his own inability to furnish money, and forbid alike either a speedy marriage or an engagement which must be too lengthy.  That seems very simple and easy in the statement; but a disagreeable resolve formed in the chill hours of the morning had as many conditions against it as the early frost, and rarely persisted under the warming influences of the day.  The indirect though emphatic expression of opinion to which Mr. Vincy was prone suffered much restraint in this case:  Lydgate was a proud man towards whom innuendoes were obviously unsafe, and throwing his hat on the floor was out of the question.  Mr. Vincy was a little in awe of him, a little vain that he wanted to marry Rosamond, a little indisposed to raise a question of money in which his own position was not advantageous, a little afraid of being worsted in dialogue with a man better educated and more highly bred than himself, and a little afraid of doing what his daughter would not like.  The part Mr. Vincy preferred playing was that of the generous host whom nobody criticises.  In the earlier half of the day there was business to hinder any formal communication of an adverse resolve; in the later there was dinner, wine, whist, and general satisfaction.  And in the mean while the hours were each leaving their little deposit and gradually forming the final reason for inaction, namely, that action was too late.  The accepted lover spent most of his evenings in Lowick Gate, and a love-making not at all dependent on money-advances from fathers-in-law, or prospective income from a profession, went on flourishingly under Mr. Vincy’s own eyes.  Young love-making—­that gossamer web!  Even the points it clings to—­the things whence its subtle interlacings are swung—­ are scarcely perceptible:  momentary touches of fingertips, meetings of rays from blue and dark orbs, unfinished phrases, lightest changes of cheek and lip, faintest tremors.  The web itself is made of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one life towards another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust.  And Lydgate fell to spinning that web from his inward self with wonderful rapidity, in spite of experience supposed to be finished off