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That evening when he went home , he looked at his phials to see how a process of maceration was going on , with undisturbed interest ; and he wrote out his daily notes with as much precision as usual . The reveries from which it was difficult for him to detach himself were ideal constructions of something else than Rosamond’s virtues , and the primitive tissue was still his fair unknown . Moreover , he was beginning to feel some zest for the growing though half - suppressed feud between him and the other medical men , which was likely to become more manifest , now that Bulstrode’s method of managing the new hospital was about to be declared ; and there were various inspiriting signs that his non - acceptance by some of Peacock’s patients might be counterbalanced by the impression he had produced in other quarters . Only a few days later , when he had happened to overtake Rosamond on the Lowick road and had got down from his horse to walk by her side until he had quite protected her from a passing drove , he had been stopped by a servant on horseback with a message calling him in to a house of some importance where Peacock had never attended ; and it was the second instance of this kind . The servant was Sir James Chettam’s , and the house was Lowick Manor . CHAPTER XXVIII . 1st Gent . All times are good to seek your wedded home Bringing a mutual delight . 2d Gent . Why , true . The calendar hath not an evil day For souls made one by love , and even death Were sweetness , if it came like rolling waves While they two clasped each other , and foresaw No life apart . Mr . and Mrs . Casaubon , returning from their wedding journey , arrived at Lowick Manor in the middle of January . A light snow was falling as they descended at the door , and in the morning , when Dorothea passed from her dressing - room into the blue - green boudoir that we know of , she saw the long avenue of limes lifting their trunks from a white earth , and spreading white branches against the dun and motionless sky . The distant flat shrank in uniform whiteness and low - hanging uniformity of cloud . The very furniture in the room seemed to have shrunk since she saw it before : the stag in the tapestry looked more like a ghost in his ghostly blue - green world ; the volumes of polite literature in the bookcase looked more like immovable imitations of books . The bright fire of dry oak - boughs burning on the logs seemed an incongruous renewal of life and glow — like the figure of Dorothea herself as she entered carrying the red - leather cases containing the cameos for Celia .
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