BOOK VIII. SUNSET AND SUNRISE.
77. CHAPTER LXXVII.
(continued)
Dorothea's nature was of that kind: her own passionate faults lay
along the easily counted open channels of her ardent character;
and while she was full of pity for the, visible mistakes of others,
she had not yet any material within her experience for subtle
constructions and suspicions of hidden wrong. But that simplicity
of hers, holding up an ideal for others in her believing conception
of them, was one of the great powers of her womanhood. And it
had from the first acted strongly on Will Ladislaw. He felt,
when he parted from her, that the brief words by which he had tried
to convey to her his feeling about herself and the division which
her fortune made between them, would only profit by their brevity
when Dorothea had to interpret them: he felt that in her mind he
had found his highest estimate.
And he was right there. In the months since their parting Dorothea
had felt a delicious though sad repose in their relation to each other,
as one which was inwardly whole and without blemish. She had an
active force of antagonism within her, when the antagonism turned
on the defence either of plans or persons that she believed in;
and the wrongs which she felt that Will had received from her husband,
and the external conditions which to others were grounds for
slighting him, only gave the more tenacity to her affection
and admiring judgment. And now with the disclosures about
Bulstrode had come another fact affecting Will's social position,
which roused afresh Dorothea's inward resistance to what was
said about him in that part of her world which lay within park palings.
"Young Ladislaw the grandson of a thieving Jew pawnbroker"
was a phrase which had entered emphatically into the dialogues
about the Bulstrode business, at Lowick, Tipton, and Freshitt,
and was a worse kind of placard on poor Will's back than the "Italian
with white mice." Upright Sir James Chettam was convinced that his
own satisfaction was righteous when he thought with some complacency
that here was an added league to that mountainous distance between
Ladislaw and Dorothea, which enabled him to dismiss any anxiety
in that direction as too absurd. And perhaps there had been
some pleasure in pointing Mr. Brooke's attention to this ugly bit
of Ladislaw's genealogy, as a fresh candle for him to see his own
folly by. Dorothea had observed the animus with which Will's part
in the painful story had been recalled more than once; but she had
uttered no word, being checked now, as she had not been formerly
in speaking of Will, by the consciousness of a deeper relation
between them which must always remain in consecrated secrecy.
But her silence shrouded her resistant emotion into a more
thorough glow; and this misfortune in Will's lot which, it seemed,
others were wishing to fling at his back as an opprobrium,
only gave something more of enthusiasm to her clinging thought.
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