Rosamond, wrapping her soft shawl around her as she walked towards Dorothea, was inwardly wrapping her soul in cold reserve. Had Mrs. Casaubon come to say anything to her about Will? If so, it was a liberty that Rosamond resented; and she prepared herself to meet every word with polite impassibility. Will had bruised her pride too sorely for her to feel any compunction towards him and Dorothea: her own injury seemed much the greater. Dorothea was not only the “preferred” woman, but had also a formidable advantage in being Lydgate’s benefactor; and to poor Rosamond’s pained confused vision it seemed that this Mrs. Casaubon⁠—this woman who predominated in all things concerning her⁠—must have come now with the sense of having the advantage, and with animosity prompting her to use it. Indeed, not Rosamond only, but anyone else, knowing the outer facts of the case, and not the simple inspiration on which Dorothea acted, might well have wondered why she came.