What was he to do?  He saw even more keenly than Rosamond did the dreariness of taking her into the small house in Bride Street, where she would have scanty furniture around her and discontent within:  a life of privation and life with Rosamond were two images which had become more and more irreconcilable ever since the threat of privation had disclosed itself.  But even if his resolves had forced the two images into combination, the useful preliminaries to that hard change were not visibly within reach.  And though he had not given the promise which his wife had asked for, he did not go again to Trumbull.  He even began to think of taking a rapid journey to the North and seeing Sir Godwin.  He had once believed that nothing would urge him into making an application for money to his uncle, but he had not then known the full pressure of alternatives yet more disagreeable.  He could not depend on the effect of a letter; it was only in an interview, however disagreeable this might be to himself, that he could give a thorough explanation and could test the effectiveness of kinship.  No sooner had Lydgate begun to represent this step to himself as the easiest than there was a reaction of anger that he—­he who had long ago determined to live aloof from such abject calculations, such self-interested anxiety about the inclinations and the pockets of men with whom he had been proud to have no aims in common—­should have fallen not simply to their level, but to the level of soliciting them.

CHAPTER LXV.

“One of us two must bowen douteless,
And, sith a man is more reasonable
Than woman is, ye [men] moste be suffrable. 

                                                —­CHAUCER:  Canterbury Tales.

The bias of human nature to be slow in correspondence triumphs even over the present quickening in the general pace of things:  what wonder then that in 1832 old Sir Godwin Lydgate was slow to write a letter which was of consequence to others rather than to himself?  Nearly three weeks of the new year were gone, and Rosamond, awaiting an answer to her winning appeal, was every day disappointed.  Lydgate, in total ignorance of her expectations, was seeing the bills come in, and feeling that Dover’s use of his advantage over other creditors was imminent.  He had never mentioned to Rosamond his brooding purpose of going to Quallingham:  he did not want to admit what would appear to her a concession to her wishes after indignant refusal, until the last moment; but he was really expecting to set off soon.  A slice of the railway would enable him to manage the whole journey and back in four days.