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This was a point on which Lydgate smarted as much as Wrench could desire . To be puffed by ignorance was not only humiliating , but perilous , and not more enviable than the reputation of the weather - prophet . He was impatient of the foolish expectations amidst which all work must be carried on , and likely enough to damage himself as much as Mr . Wrench could wish , by an unprofessional openness . However , Lydgate was installed as medical attendant on the Vincys , and the event was a subject of general conversation in Middlemarch . Some said , that the Vincys had behaved scandalously , that Mr . Vincy had threatened Wrench , and that Mrs . Vincy had accused him of poisoning her son . Others were of opinion that Mr . Lydgate’s passing by was providential , that he was wonderfully clever in fevers , and that Bulstrode was in the right to bring him forward . Many people believed that Lydgate’s coming to the town at all was really due to Bulstrode ; and Mrs . Taft , who was always counting stitches and gathered her information in misleading fragments caught between the rows of her knitting , had got it into her head that Mr . Lydgate was a natural son of Bulstrode’s , a fact which seemed to justify her suspicions of evangelical laymen . She one day communicated this piece of knowledge to Mrs . Farebrother , who did not fail to tell her son of it , observing — “ I should not be surprised at anything in Bulstrode , but I should be sorry to think it of Mr . Lydgate . ” “ Why , mother , ” said Mr . Farebrother , after an explosive laugh , “ you know very well that Lydgate is of a good family in the North . He never heard of Bulstrode before he came here . ” “ That is satisfactory so far as Mr . Lydgate is concerned , Camden , ” said the old lady , with an air of precision . — “ But as to Bulstrode — the report may be true of some other son . ” CHAPTER XXVII . Let the high Muse chant loves Olympian : We are but mortals , and must sing of man . An eminent philosopher among my friends , who can dignify even your ugly furniture by lifting it into the serene light of science , has shown me this pregnant little fact . Your pier - glass or extensive surface of polished steel made to be rubbed by a housemaid , will be minutely and multitudinously scratched in all directions ; but place now against it a lighted candle as a centre of illumination , and lo ! the scratches will seem to arrange themselves in a fine series of concentric circles round that little sun . It is demonstrable that the scratches are going everywhere impartially and it is only your candle which produces the flattering illusion of a concentric arrangement , its light falling with an exclusive optical selection . These things are a parable . The scratches are events , and the candle is the egoism of any person now absent — of Miss Vincy , for example . Rosamond had a Providence of her own who had kindly made her more charming than other girls , and who seemed to have arranged Fred’s illness and Mr . Wrench’s mistake in order to bring her and Lydgate within effective proximity .
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