young and vigorous. I am naturally very strong; yet I have been thoroughly shaken lately by an accumulation of trouble.”
“I presume that a constitution in the susceptible state in which mine at present is, would be especially liable to fall a victim to cholera, if it visited our district. And since its appearance near London, we may well besiege the Mercy-seat for our protection,” said Mr Bulstrode, not intending to evade Lydgate’s allusion, but really preoccupied with alarms about himself.
“You have at all events taken your share in using good practical precautions for the town, and that is the best mode of asking for protection,” said Lydgate, with a strong distaste for the broken metaphor and bad logic of the banker’s religion, somewhat increased by the apparent deafness of his sympathy. But his mind had taken up its long-prepared movement towards getting help, and was not yet arrested. He added, “The town has done well in the way of cleansing, and finding appliances; and I think that if the cholera should come, even our enemies will admit that the arrangements in the Hospital are a public good.”
“Truly,” said Mr Bulstrode, with some coldness. “With regard to what you say, Mr Lydgate, about the relaxation of my mental labour, I have for some time been entertaining a purpose to that effect—a purpose of a very decided character. I contemplate at least a temporary withdrawal from the management of much business, whether benevolent or commercial. Also I think of changing my residence for a time: probably I shall close or let ‘The Shrubs,’ and take some place near the coast—under advice, of course, as to salubrity. That would be a measure which you would recommend?”
“Oh yes,” said Lydgate, falling backward in his chair, with ill-repressed impatience under the banker’s pale earnest eyes and intense preoccupation with himself.
“I have for some time felt that I should open this subject with you in relation to our Hospital,” continued Bulstrode. “Under the circumstances I have indicated, of course I must cease to have any personal share in the management, and it is contrary to my views of responsibility to continue a large application of means to an institution which I cannot watch over and to some extent regulate. I shall therefore, in case of my ultimate decision to leave Middlemarch, consider that I withdraw other support to the New Hospital than that which will subsist in the fact that I chiefly supplied the expenses of building it, and have contributed further large sums to its successful working.”
Lydgate’s thought, when Bulstrode paused according to his wont, was, “He has perhaps been losing a good deal of money.” This was the most plausible explanation of a speech which had caused rather a startling change in his expectations. He said in reply—
“The loss to the Hospital can hardly be made up, I fear.”
“Hardly,” returned Bulstrode, in the same deliberate, silvery tone;
