A smile broke through the gloom of Lydgate’s face. The childlike grave-eyed earnestness with which Dorothea said all this was irresistible⁠—blent into an adorable whole with her ready understanding of high experience. (Of lower experience such as plays a great part in the world, poor Mrs. Casaubon had a very blurred shortsighted knowledge, little helped by her imagination.) But she took the smile as encouragement of her plan.

“I think you see now that you spoke too scrupulously,” she said, in a tone of persuasion. “The hospital would be one good; and making your life quite whole and well again would be another.”

Lydgate’s smile had died away. “You have the goodness as well as the money to do all that; if it could be done,” he said. “But⁠—”

He hesitated a little while, looking vaguely towards the window; and she sat in silent expectation. At last he turned towards her and said impetuously⁠—