 when she acquiesced it was a self-approved effort of
forbearance. The tenacity with which he strove to hide this inward drama made it
the more vivid for him; as we hear with the more keenness what we wish others
not to hear.
    Instead of wondering at this result of misery in Mr. Casaubon, I think it
quite ordinary. Will not a tiny speck very close to our vision blot out the
glory of the world, and leave only a margin by which we see the blot? I know no
speck so troublesome as self. And who, if Mr. Casaubon had chosen to expound his
discontents - his suspicions that he was not any longer adored without criticism
- could have denied that they were founded on good reasons? On the contrary,
there was a strong reason to be added, which he had not himself taken explicitly
into account - namely, that he was not unmixedly adorable. He suspected this,
however, as he suspected other things, without confessing it, and like the rest
of us, felt how soothing it would have been to have a companion who would never
find it out.
    This sore susceptibility in relation to Dorothea was thoroughly prepared
before Will Ladislaw had returned to Lowick, and what had occurred since then
had brought Mr. Casaubon's power of suspicious construction into exasperated
activity. To all the facts which he knew, he added imaginary facts both present
and future which became more real to him than those, because they called up a
stronger dislike, a more predominating bitterness. Suspicion and jealousy of
Will Ladislaw's intentions, suspicion and jealousy of Dorothea's impressions,
were constantly at their weaving work. It would be quite unjust to him to
suppose that he could have entered into any coarse misinterpretation of
Dorothea: his own habits of mind and conduct, quite as much as the open
elevation of her nature, saved him from any such mistake. What he was jealous of
was her opinion, the sway that might be given to her ardent mind in its
judgments, and the future possibilities to which these might lead her. As to
Will, though until his last defiant letter he had nothing definite which he
would choose formally to allege against him, he felt himself warranted in
believing that he was capable of any design which could fascinate a rebellious
temper and an undisciplined impulsiveness. He was quite sure that Dorothea was
the cause of Will's return from Rome, and his determination to settle in the
neighbourhood; and he was penetrating enough to imagine that Dorothea had
innocently encouraged this course. It was as clear as possible that she was
ready to be
