was conscious that fatally, without will of her own, she had perhaps made a
great difference to Fred's lot.
    »Good-bye,« she said, with affectionate sadness. »Be brave, Fred. I do
believe you are better without the money. What was the good of it to Mr.
Featherstone?«
    »That's all very fine,« said Fred, pettishly. »What is a fellow to do? I
must go into the Church now.« (He knew that this would vex Mary: very well; then
she must tell him what else he could do.) »And I thought I should be able to pay
your father at once and make everything right. And you have not even a hundred
pounds left you. What shall you do now, Mary?«
    »Take another situation, of course, as soon as I can get one. My father has
enough to do to keep the rest, without me. Good-bye.«
    In a very short time Stone Court was cleared of well-brewed Featherstones
and other long-accustomed visitors. Another stranger had been brought to settle
in the neighbourhood of Middlemarch, but in the case of Mr. Rigg Featherstone
there was more discontent with immediate visible consequences than speculation
as to the effect which his presence might have in the future. No soul was
prophetic enough to have any foreboding as to what might appear on the trail of
Joshua Rigg.
    And here I am naturally led to reflect on the means of elevating a low
subject. Historical parallels are remarkably efficient in this way. The chief
objection to them is, that the diligent narrator may lack space, or (what is
often the same thing) may not be able to think of them with any degree of
particularity, though he may have a philosophical confidence that if known they
would be illustrative. It seems an easier and shorter way to dignity, to observe
that - since there never was a true story which could not be told in parables
where you might put a monkey for a margrave, and vice versa - whatever has been
or is to be narrated by me about low people, may be ennobled by being considered
a parable; so that if any bad habits and ugly consequences are brought into
view, the reader may have the relief of regarding them as not more than
figuratively ungenteel, and may feel himself virtually in company with persons
of some style. Thus while I tell the truth about loobies, my reader's
imagination need not be entirely excluded from an occupation with lords; and the
petty sums which any bankrupt