“I shall try to see Trumbull this morning, and tell him to. advertise the house in the `Pioneer’ and the `Trumpet.’  If the thing were advertised, some one might be inclined to take it who would not otherwise have thought of a change.  In these country places many people go on in their old houses when their families are too large for them, for want of knowing where they can find another.  And Trumbull seems to have got no bite at all.”

Rosamond knew that the inevitable moment was come.  “I ordered Trumbull not to inquire further,” she said, with a careful calmness which was evidently defensive.

Lydgate stared at her in mute amazement.  Only half an hour before he had been fastening up her plaits for her, and talking the “little language” of affection, which Rosamond, though not returning it, accepted as if she had been a serene and lovely image, now and then miraculously dimpling towards her votary.  With such fibres still astir in him, the shock he received could not at once be distinctly anger; it was confused pain.  He laid down the knife and fork with which he was carving, and throwing himself back in his chair, said at last, with a cool irony in his tone—­

“May I ask when and why you did so?”

“When I knew that the Plymdales had taken a house, I called to tell him not to mention ours to them; and at the same time I told him not to let the affair go on any further.  I knew that it would be very injurious to you if it were known that you wished to part with your house and furniture, and I had a very strong objection to it.  I think that was reason enough.”

“It was of no consequence then that I had told you imperative reasons of another kind; of no consequence that I had come to a different conclusion, and given an order accordingly?” said Lydgate, bitingly, the thunder and lightning gathering about his brow and eyes.

The effect of any one’s anger on Rosamond had always been to make her shrink in cold dislike, and to become all the more calmly correct, in the conviction that she was not the person to misbehave whatever others might do.  She replied—­

“I think I had a perfect right to speak on a subject which concerns me at least as much as you.”

“Clearly—­you had a right to speak, but only to me.  You had no right to contradict my orders secretly, and treat me as if I were a fool,” said Lydgate, in the same tone as before.  Then with some added scorn, “Is it possible to make you understand what the consequences will be?  Is it of any use for me to tell you again why we must try to part with the house?”

“It is not necessary for you to tell me again,” said Rosamond, in a voice that fell and trickled like cold water-drops.  “I remembered what you said.  You spoke just as violently as you do now.  But that does not alter my opinion that you ought to try every other means rather than take a step which is so painful to me.  And as to advertising the house, I think it would be perfectly degrading to you.”