Bulstrode was only the more conscious that there was a deposit of uneasy presentiment in his wife’s mind, because she carefully avoided any allusion to it.  He had been used every day to taste the flavor of supremacy and the tribute of complete deference:  and the certainty that he was watched or measured with a hidden suspicion of his having some discreditable secret, made his voice totter when he was speaking to edification.  Foreseeing, to men of Bulstrode’s anxious temperament, is often worse than seeing; and his imagination continually heightened the anguish of an imminent disgrace.  Yes, imminent; for if his defiance of Raffles did not keep the man away—­and though he prayed for this result he hardly hoped for it—­the disgrace was certain.  In vain he said to himself that, if permitted, it would be a divine visitation, a chastisement, a preparation; he recoiled from the imagined burning; and he judged that it must be more for the Divine glory that he should escape dishonor.  That recoil had at last urged him to make preparations for quitting Middlemarch.  If evil truth must be reported of him, he would then be at a less scorching distance from the contempt of his old neighbors; and in a new scene, where his life would not have gathered the same wide sensibility, the tormentor, if he pursued him, would be less formidable.  To leave the place finally would, he knew, be extremely painful to his wife, and on other grounds he would have preferred to stay where he had struck root.  Hence he made his preparations at first in a conditional way, wishing to leave on all sides an opening for his return after brief absence, if any favorable intervention of Providence should dissipate his fears.  He was preparing to transfer his management of the Bank, and to give up any active control of other commercial affairs in the neighborhood, on the ground of his failing health, but without excluding his future resumption of such work.  The measure would cause him some added expense and some diminution of income beyond what he had already undergone from the general depression of trade; and the Hospital presented itself as a principal object of outlay on which he could fairly economize.

This was the experience which had determined his conversation with Lydgate.  But at this time his arrangements had most of them gone no farther than a stage at which he could recall them if they proved to be unnecessary.  He continually deferred the final steps; in the midst of his fears, like many a man who is in danger of shipwreck or of being dashed from his carriage by runaway horses, he had a clinging impression that something would happen to hinder the worst, and that to spoil his life by a late transplantation might be over-hasty—­especially since it was difficult to account satisfactorily to his wife for the project of their indefinite exile from the only place where she would like to live.