tell him it was all settled. Think; Susan! His mind had been running on that place for years before old Featherstone died. And it would be as pretty a turn of things as could be that he should hold the place in a good industrious way after all—by his taking to business. For it’s likely enough Bulstrode might let him go on, and gradually buy the stock. He hasn’t made up his mind, I can see, whether or not he shall settle somewhere else as a lasting thing. I never was better pleased with a notion in my life. And then the children might be married by-and-by, Susan.”
“You will not give any hint of the plan to Fred, until you are sure that Bulstrode would agree to the plan?” said Mrs. Garth, in a tone of gentle caution. “And as to marriage, Caleb, we old people need not help to hasten it.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Caleb, swinging his head aside. “Marriage is a taming thing. Fred would want less of my bit and bridle. However, I shall say nothing till I know the ground I’m treading on. I shall speak to Bulstrode again.”
He took his earliest opportunity of doing so. Bulstrode had anything but a warm interest in his nephew Fred Vincy, but he had a strong wish to secure Mr. Garth’s services on many scattered points of business at which he was sure to be a considerable loser, if they were under less conscientious management. On that ground he made no objection to Mr. Garth’s proposal; and there was also another reason why he was not sorry to give a consent which was to benefit one of the Vincy family. It was that Mrs. Bulstrode, having heard of Lydgate’s debts, had been anxious to know whether her husband could not do something for poor Rosamond, and had been much troubled on learning from him that Lydgate’s affairs were not easily remediable, and that the wisest plan was to let them “take their course.” Mrs. Bulstrode had then said for the first time, “I think you are always a little hard towards my family, Nicholas. And I am sure I have no reason to deny any of my relatives. Too worldly they may be, but no one ever had to say that they were not respectable.”
“My dear Harriet,” said Mr. Bulstrode, wincing under his wife’s eyes, which were filling with tears, “I have supplied your brother with a great deal of capital. I cannot be expected to take care of his married children.”
That seemed to be true, and Mrs. Bulstrode’s remonstrance subsided into pity for poor Rosamond, whose extravagant education she had always foreseen the fruits of.
But remembering that dialogue, Mr. Bulstrode felt that when he had to talk to his wife fully about his plan of quitting Middlemarch, he should be glad to tell her that he had made an arrangement which might be for the good of her nephew Fred. At present he had merely mentioned to her that he thought of shutting up The Shrubs for a few months, and taking a house on the Southern Coast.
Hence Mr. Garth got the assurance he desired, namely, that in case of Bulstrode’s departure from Middlemarch for an indefinite time, Fred Vincy should be allowed to have the tenancy of Stone Court on the terms proposed.
Caleb was so elated with his hope of this “neat turn” being given to things, that if his self-control had not been braced by a little affectionate wifely scolding, he would have betrayed everything to Mary, wanting “to give the child comfort.” However, he restrained himself, and kept in strict privacy from Fred certain visits which he was making to Stone Court, in order to look more thoroughly into the state of the land and stock, and take a preliminary estimate. He was certainly more eager in these visits than the probable speed of events required him to be; but he was stimulated by a fatherly delight in occupying his mind with this bit of probable happiness which he held in store like a hidden birthday gift for Fred and Mary.
“But suppose the whole scheme should turn out to be a castle in the air?” said Mrs. Garth.
“Well, well,” replied Caleb; “the castle will tumble about nobody’s head.”
CHAPTER LXIX.
“If thou hast heard a word, let it die with thee.” —Ecclesiasticus.
Mr. Bulstrode was still seated in his manager’s room at the Bank, about three o’clock of the same day on which he had received Lydgate there, when the clerk entered to say that his horse was waiting, and also that Mr. Garth was outside and begged to speak with him.
“By all means,” said Bulstrode; and Caleb entered. “Pray sit down, Mr. Garth,” continued the banker, in his suavest tone.
“I am glad that you arrived just in time to find me here. I know you count your minutes.”
“Oh,” said Caleb, gently, with a slow swing of his head on one side, as he seated himself and laid his hat on the floor.
He looked at the ground, leaning forward and letting his long fingers droop between his legs, while each finger moved in succession, as if it were sharing some thought which filled his large quiet brow.
Mr. Bulstrode, like every one else who knew Caleb, was used to his slowness in beginning to speak on any topic which he felt to be important, and rather expected that he was about to recur to the buying of some houses in Blindman’s Court, for the sake of pulling them down, as a sacrifice of property which would be well repaid by the influx of air and light on that spot. It was by propositions of this kind that Caleb was sometimes troublesome to his employers; but he had usually found Bulstrode ready to meet him in projects of improvement, and they had got on well together. When he spoke again, however, it was to say, in rather a subdued voice—
“I have just come away from Stone Court, Mr. Bulstrode.”
“You found nothing wrong there, I hope,” said the banker; “I was there myself yesterday. Abel has done well with the lambs this year.”
“Why, yes,” said Caleb, looking up gravely, “there is something wrong— a stranger, who is very ill, I think. He wants a doctor, and I came to tell you of that. His name is Raffles.”
He saw the shock of his words passing through Bulstrode’s frame. On this subject the banker had thought that his fears were too constantly on the watch to be taken by surprise; but he had been mistaken.
“Poor wretch!” he said in a compassionate tone, though his lips trembled a little. “Do you know how he came there?”
“I took him myself,” said Caleb, quietly—”took him up in my gig. He had got down from the coach, and was walking a little beyond the turning from the toll-house, and I overtook him. He remembered seeing me with you once before, at Stone Court, and he asked me to take him on. I saw he was ill: it seemed to me the right thing to do, to carry him under shelter. And now I think you should lose no time in getting advice for him.” Caleb took up his hat from the floor as he ended, and rose slowly from his seat.
“Certainly,” said Bulstrode, whose mind was very active at this moment. “Perhaps you will yourself oblige me, Mr. Garth, by calling at Mr. Lydgate’s as you pass—or stay! he may at this hour probably be at the Hospital. I will first send my man on the horse there with a note this instant, and then I will myself ride to Stone Court.”
Bulstrode quickly wrote a note, and went out himself to give the commission to his man. When he returned, Caleb was standing as before with one hand on the back of the chair, holding his hat with the other. In Bulstrode’s
