in her journeying, what would she look for when the herds passed her?  Surely for the gaze which had found her, and which she would know again.  Life would be no better than candle-light tinsel and daylight rubbish if our spirits were not touched by what has been, to issues of longing and constancy.  It was true that Dorothea wanted to know the Farebrothers better, and especially to talk to the new rector, but also true that remembering what Lydgate had told her about Will Ladislaw and little Miss Noble, she counted on Will’s coming to Lowick to see the Farebrother family.  The very first Sunday, before she entered the church, she saw him as she had seen him the last time she was there, alone in the clergyman’s pew; but when she entered his figure was gone.

In the week-days when she went to see the ladies at the Rectory, she listened in vain for some word that they might let fall about Will; but it seemed to her that Mrs. Farebrother talked of every one else in the neighborhood and out of it.

“Probably some of Mr. Farebrother’s Middlemarch hearers may follow him to Lowick sometimes.  Do you not think so?” said Dorothea, rather despising herself for having a secret motive in asking the question.

“If they are wise they will, Mrs. Casaubon,” said the old lady.  “I see that you set a right value on my son’s preaching.  His grandfather on my side was an excellent clergyman, but his father was in the law:—­ most exemplary and honest nevertheless, which is a reason for our never being rich.  They say Fortune is a woman and capricious.  But sometimes she is a good woman and gives to those who merit, which has been the case with you, Mrs. Casaubon, who have given a living to my son.”

Mrs. Farebrother recurred to her knitting with a dignified satisfaction in her neat little effort at oratory, but this was not what Dorothea wanted to hear.  Poor thing! she did not even know whether Will Ladislaw was still at Middlemarch, and there was no one whom she dared to ask, unless it were Lydgate.  But just now she could not see Lydgate without sending for him or going to seek him.  Perhaps Will Ladislaw, having heard of that strange ban against him left by Mr. Casaubon, had felt it better that he and she should not meet again, and perhaps she was wrong to wish for a meeting that others might find many good reasons against.  Still “I do wish it” came at the end of those wise reflections as naturally as a sob after holding the breath.  And the meeting did happen, but in a formal way quite unexpected by her.

One morning, about eleven, Dorothea was seated in her boudoir with a map of the land attached to the manor and other papers before her, which were to help her in making an exact statement for herself of her income and affairs.  She had not yet applied herself to her work, but was seated with her hands folded on her lap, looking out along the avenue of limes to the distant fields.  Every leaf was at rest in