Perhaps there was a faint taste of jealousy in the question. A smile began to play over Dorothea's face as she said—
"No, indeed! How could you imagine it?" But here the door opened, and Lydgate entered.
"I am come back in my quality of doctor," he said. "After I went away, I was haunted by two pale faces: Mrs Casaubon looked as much in need of care as you, Rosy. And I thought that I had not done my duty in leaving you together; so when I had been to Coleman's I came home again. I noticed that you were walking, Mrs Casaubon, and the sky has changed—I think we may have rain. May I send some one to order your carriage to come for you?"
"Oh, no! I am strong: I need the walk," said Dorothea, rising with animation in her face. "Mrs Lydgate and I have chatted a great deal, and it is time for me to go. I have always been accused of being immoderate and saying too much."
She put out her hand to Rosamond, and they said an earnest, quiet good-bye without kiss or other show of effusion: there had been between them too much serious emotion for them to use the signs of it superficially.
As Lydgate took her to the door she said nothing of Rosamond, but told him of Mr Fare-
