CHAPTER VI.

mingandhawing.Youwillloseyourself,Iforewarnyou.YouwillmakeaSaturdaypieofallparties’opinions,andbepeltedbyeverybody.” “ThatiswhatIexpect,youknow,”saidMr.Brooke,notwishingtobetrayhowlittleheenjoyedthispropheticsketch—“whatIexpectasanindependentman.AstotheWhigs,amanwhogoeswiththethinkersisnotlikelytobehookedonbyanyparty.Hemaygowiththemuptoacertainpoint—uptoacertainpoint,youknow.Butthatiswhatyouladiesneverunderstand.” “Whereyourcertainpointis?No.Ishouldliketobetoldhowamancanhaveanycertainpointwhenhebelongstonoparty—leadingarovinglife,andneverlettinghisfriendsknowhisaddress.‘NobodyknowswhereBrookewillbe—there’snocountingonBrooke’—thatiswhatpeoplesayofyou,tobequitefrank.Now,doturnrespectable.HowwillyoulikegoingtoSessionswitheverybodylookingshyonyou,andyouwithabadconscienceandanemptypocket?” “Idon’tpretendtoarguewithaladyonpolitics,”saidMr.Brooke,withanairofsmilingindifference,butfeelingratherunpleasantlyconsciousthatthisattackofMrs.Cadwallader’shadopenedthedefensivecampaigntowhichcertainrashstepshadexposedhim.“Yoursexarenotthinkers,youknow—variumetmutabilesemper—thatkindofthing.Youdon’tknowVirgil.Iknew”—Mr.BrookereflectedintimethathehadnothadthepersonalacquaintanceoftheAugustanpoet—“Iwasgoingtosay,poorStoddart,youknow.Thatwaswhathesaid.Youladiesarealwaysagainstanindependentattitude—aman’scaringfornothingbuttruth,andthatsortofthing.Andthereisnopartofthecountywhereopinionisnarrowerthanitishere—Idon’tmeantothrowstones,youknow,butsomebodyiswantedtotaketheindependentlineandifIdon’ttakeit,whowill?” “Who?Why,anyupstartwhohasgotneitherbloodnorposition.Peopleofstandingshouldconsumetheirindependentnonsenseathome,nothawkitabout.Andyou!whoaregoingtomarryyourniece,asgoodasyourdaughter,tooneofourbestmen.SirJameswouldbecruellyannoyed:itwillbetoohardonhimifyouturnroundnowandmakeyourselfaWhigsign-board.” Mr.Brookeagainwincedinwardly,forDorothea’sengagementhadnosoonerbeendecided,thanhehadthoughtofMrs.Cadwallader’sprospectivetaunts.Itmighthavebeeneasyforignorantobserverstosay,“QuarrelwithMrs.Cadwallader”butwhereisacountrygentlemantogowhoquarrelswithhisoldestneighbors?WhocouldtastethefineflavorinthenameofBrookeifitweredeliveredcasually,likewinewithoutaseal?Certainlyamancanonlybecosmopolitanuptoacertainpoint. “IhopeChettamandIshallalwaysbegoodfriendsbutIamsorrytosaythereisnoprospectofhismarryingmyniece,”saidMr.Brooke,muchrelievedtoseethroughthewindowthatCeliawascomingin. “Whynot?”saidMrs.Cadwallader,withasharpnoteofsurprise.“ItishardlyafortnightsinceyouandIweretalkingaboutit.” “Myniecehaschosenanothersuitor—haschosenhim,youknow.Ihavehadnothingtodowithit.IshouldhavepreferredChettamandIshouldhavesaidChettamwasthemananygirlwouldhavechosen.Butthereisnoaccountingforthesethings.Yoursexiscapricious,youknow.” “Why,whomdoyoumeantosaythatyouaregoingtolethermarry?”Mrs.Cadwallader’smindwasrapidlysurveyingthepossibilitiesofchoiceforDorothea. ButhereCeliaentered,bloomingfromawalkinthegarden,andthegreetingwithherdeliveredMr.Brookefromthenecessityofansweringimmediately.Hegotuphastily,andsaying,“Bytheway,ImustspeaktoWrightaboutthehorses,”shuffledquicklyoutoftheroom. “Mydearchild,whatisthis?—thisaboutyoursister’sengagement?”saidMrs.Cadwallader. “SheisengagedtomarryMr.Casaubon,”saidCelia,resorting,asusual,tothesimpleststatementoffact,andenjoyingthisopportunityofspeakingtotheRector’swifealone. “Thisisfrightful.Howlonghasitbeengoingon?” “Ionlyknewofityesterday.Theyaretobemarriedinsixweeks.” “Well,mydear,Iwishyoujoyofyourbrother-in-law.” “IamsosorryforDorothea.” “Sorry!Itisherdoing,Isuppose.” “YesshesaysMr.Casaubonhasagreatsoul.” “Withallmyheart.” “Oh,Mrs.Cadwallader,Idon’tthinkitcanbenicetomarryamanwithagreatsoul.” “Well,mydear,takewarning.Youknowthelookofonenowwhenthenextcomesandwantstomarryyou,don’tyouaccepthim.” “I’msureInevershould.” “Noonesuchinafamilyisenough.SoyoursisternevercaredaboutSirJamesChettam?Whatwouldyouhavesaidtohimforabrother-in-law?” “Ishouldhavelikedthatverymuch.Iamsurehewouldha