Eighteen months ago Lydgate was poor, but had never known the eager want of small sums, and felt rather a burning contempt for any one who descended a step in order to gain them.  He was now experiencing something worse than a simple deficit:  he was assailed by the vulgar hateful trials of a man who has bought and used a great many things which might have been done without, and which he is unable to pay for, though the demand for payment has become pressing.

How this came about may be easily seen without much arithmetic or knowledge of prices.  When a man in setting up a house and preparing for marriage finds that his furniture and other initial expenses come to between four and five hundred pounds more than he has capital to pay for; when at the end of a year it appears that his household expenses, horses and et caeteras, amount to nearly a thousand, while the proceeds of the practice reckoned from the old books to be worth eight hundred per annum have sunk like a summer pond and make hardly five hundred, chiefly in unpaid entries, the plain inference is that, whether he minds it or not, he is in debt.  Those were less expensive times than our own, and provincial life was comparatively modest; but the ease with which a medical man who had lately bought a practice, who thought that he was obliged to keep two horses, whose table was supplied without stint, and who paid an insurance on his life and a high rent for house and garden, might find his expenses doubling his receipts, can be conceived by any one who does not think these details beneath his consideration.  Rosamond, accustomed from her to an extravagant household, thought that good housekeeping consisted simply in ordering the best of everything—­nothing else “answered;” and Lydgate supposed that “if things were done at all, they must be done properly”—­ he did not see how they were to live otherwise.  If each head of household expenditure had been mentioned to him beforehand, he would have probably observed that “it could hardly come to much,” and if any one had suggested a saving on a particular article—­ for example, the substitution of cheap fish for dear—­ it would have appeared to him simply a penny-wise, mean notion.  Rosamond, even without such an occasion as Captain Lydgate’s visit, was fond of giving invitations, and Lydgate, though he often thought the guests tiresome, did not interfere.  This sociability seemed a necessary part of professional prudence, and the entertainment must be suitable.  It is true Lydgate was constantly visiting the homes of the poor and adjusting his prescriptions of diet to their small means; but, dear me! has it not by this time ceased to be remarkable—­is it not rather that we expect in men, that they should have numerous strands of experience lying side by side and never compare them with each other?  Expenditure—­like ugliness and errors—­becomes a totally new thing when we attach our own personality to it, and measure it by that wide difference which is manifest