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“ I have told Mrs . Casaubon . She is not under any mistake about you . I told her because she came to see me and was very kind . You will have nothing to reproach me with now . I shall not have made any difference to you . ” The effect of these words was not quite all gladness . As Will dwelt on them with excited imagination , he felt his cheeks and ears burning at the thought of what had occurred between Dorothea and Rosamond — at the uncertainty how far Dorothea might still feel her dignity wounded in having an explanation of his conduct offered to her . There might still remain in her mind a changed association with him which made an irremediable difference — a lasting flaw . With active fancy he wrought himself into a state of doubt little more easy than that of the man who has escaped from wreck by night and stands on unknown ground in the darkness . Until that wretched yesterday — except the moment of vexation long ago in the very same room and in the very same presence — all their vision , all their thought of each other , had been as in a world apart , where the sunshine fell on tall white lilies , where no evil lurked , and no other soul entered . But now — would Dorothea meet him in that world again ? CHAPTER LXXXIII . “ And now good - morrow to our waking souls Which watch not one another out of fear ; For love all love of other sights controls , And makes one little room , an everywhere . ” — DR . DONNE . On the second morning after Dorothea’s visit to Rosamond , she had had two nights of sound sleep , and had not only lost all traces of fatigue , but felt as if she had a great deal of superfluous strength — that is to say , more strength than she could manage to concentrate on any occupation . The day before , she had taken long walks outside the grounds , and had paid two visits to the Parsonage ; but she never in her life told any one the reason why she spent her time in that fruitless manner , and this morning she was rather angry with herself for her childish restlessness . To - day was to be spent quite differently . What was there to be done in the village ? Oh dear ! nothing . Everybody was well and had flannel ; nobody’s pig had died ; and it was Saturday morning , when there was a general scrubbing of doors and door - stones , and when it was useless to go into the school . But there were various subjects that Dorothea was trying to get clear upon , and she resolved to throw herself energetically into the gravest of all . She sat down in the library before her particular little heap of books on political economy and kindred matters , out of which she was trying to get light as to the best way of spending money so as not to injure one’s neighbors , or — what comes to the same thing — so as to do them the most good .
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