CHAPTER IV.

ItseemedasifanelectricstreamwentthroughDorothea,thrillingherfromdespairintoexpectation.TheywerepamphletsabouttheearlyChurch.TheoppressionofCelia,Tantripp,andSirJameswasshakenoff,andshewalkedstraighttothelibrary.Celiawentup-stairs.Mr.Brookewasdetainedbyamessage,butwhenhere-enteredthelibrary,hefoundDorotheaseatedandalreadydeepinoneofthepamphletswhichhadsomemarginalmanuscriptofMr.Casaubon’s,—takingitinaseagerlyasshemighthavetakeninthescentofafreshbouquetafteradry,hot,drearywalk. ShewasgettingawayfromTiptonandFreshitt,andherownsadliabilitytotreadinthewrongplacesonherwaytotheNewJerusalem. Mr.Brookesatdowninhisarm-chair,stretchedhislegstowardsthewood-fire,whichhadfallenintoawondrousmassofglowingdicebetweenthedogs,andrubbedhishandsgently,lookingverymildlytowardsDorothea,butwithaneutralleisurelyair,asifhehadnothingparticulartosay.Dorotheaclosedherpamphlet,assoonasshewasawareofheruncle’spresence,androseasiftogo.Usuallyshewouldhavebeeninterestedaboutheruncle’smercifulerrandonbehalfofthecriminal,butherlateagitationhadmadeherabsent-minded. “IcamebackbyLowick,youknow,”saidMr.Brooke,notasifwithanyintentiontoarrestherdeparture,butapparentlyfromhisusualtendencytosaywhathehadsaidbefore.ThisfundamentalprincipleofhumanspeechwasmarkedlyexhibitedinMr.Brooke.“IlunchedthereandsawCasaubon’slibrary,andthatkindofthing.There’sasharpair,driving.Won’tyousitdown,mydear?Youlookcold.” Dorotheafeltquiteinclinedtoaccepttheinvitation.Sometimes,whenheruncle’seasywayoftakingthingsdidnothappentobeexasperating,itwasrathersoothing.Shethrewoffhermantleandbonnet,andsatdownoppositetohim,enjoyingtheglow,butliftingupherbeautifulhandsforascreen.Theywerenotthinhands,orsmallhandsbutpowerful,feminine,maternalhands.Sheseemedtobeholdingthemupinpropitiationforherpassionatedesiretoknowandtothink,whichintheunfriendlymediumsofTiptonandFreshitthadissuedincryingandredeyelids. Shebethoughtherselfnowofthecondemnedcriminal.“Whatnewshaveyoubroughtaboutthesheep-stealer,uncle?” “What,poorBunch?—well,itseemswecan’tgethimoff—heistobehanged.” Dorothea’sbrowtookanexpressionofreprobationandpity. “Hanged,youknow,”saidMr.Brooke,withaquietnod.“PoorRomilly!hewouldhavehelpedus.IknewRomilly.Casaubondidn’tknowRomilly.Heisalittleburiedinbooks,youknow,Casaubonis.” “Whenamanhasgreatstudiesandiswritingagreatwork,hemustofcoursegiveupseeingmuchoftheworld.Howcanhegoaboutmakingacquaintances?” “That’strue.Butamanmopes,youknow.Ihavealwaysbeenabachelortoo,butIhavethatsortofdispositionthatInevermopeditwasmywaytogoabouteverywhereandtakeineverything.Inevermoped:butIcanseethatCasaubondoes,youknow.He