Middlemarch

CHAPITRE LVII.

After Mr. Farebrother leaves Mary and Fred alone together under the pretext of selecting an engraving, Fred confesses his jealous conviction that Mary will eventually marry Farebrother, a man whom he believes surpasses him in every way. Mary, who is both indignant and amused, rebukes him for his ingratitude toward the very suitor who has pleaded his cause, points out that Farebrother deliberately left them alone so they might speak freely, and insists that no mortal has ever made love to her besides Fred. The conversation leaves Mary troubled, for she now finds herself in the painful position of seeming to slight an honored man, and although fleeting visions of “new dignities” with Farebrother intrude upon her, she clings to the long-stored tenderness of her love for Fred and earnestly desires to remain certain that he alone possesses her heart.

Fred’s Jealousy of Farebrother

While Mary and Fred wait alone together, Fred immediately voices his frustration, declaring that no matter what he does, Mary will end up marrying Mr. Farebrother. His tone carries anger as he insists that Mary must see that Farebrother surpasses him in everything and that she esteems Farebrother above all others. Though Mary protests indignantly, Fred remains convinced of the inevitable outcome, reasoning that Mary, who sees everything, cannot fail to recognize Farebrother’s superiority. Though irritated, Fred holds back from revealing what Mrs. Garth has said, recognizing that if Mary were truly unaware of Farebrother’s feelings, telling her would serve no purpose. He concludes with bitter certainty that Farebrother will “bowl him out” in the end, and this certainty darkens his view of his own future happiness, even as Mr. Garth has been kind to him and offered encouragement in his work.

Mary Rebukes Fred’s Ingratitude

Mary chastises Fred for speaking ill of Farebrother, who has championed Fred’s cause in every way. She reminds Fred that she had once confided to Farebrother that she cared for Fred, and she wishes she had never done so given Fred’s ungrateful behavior. Fred, however, insists he is not ungrateful; he claims he could throw himself into his work wholeheartedly—writing and all—if only he could be free of this jealous dread. When Mary presses him on what “this” refers to, he can only repeat his certainty about Farebrother. The absurdity of his jealousy finally strikes Mary as laughable, and she teases him for being a “charming simpleton,” warning him not to tempt her to play the coquette. When Fred asks directly whether she truly likes him best, Mary pulls back, pretending displeasure but admitting that no mortal has ever made love to her besides him—though she adds this is no guarantee a very wise man never will. Fred begs her to say she could never think of Farebrother, and Mary grows serious, forbidding him ever to mention the subject again and rebuking him for failing to see that Farebrother deliberately left them alone so they might speak freely. She is disappointed by his blindness to Farebrother’s delicate feeling.

Mary’s Reflections on Constancy

After Farebrother returns with the engraving, Fred goes back to the drawing-room still troubled by jealousy, though somewhat comforted by Mary’s words and manner. For Mary, however, the conversation leaves a more painful residue. She finds that her attention has taken a new attitude, opening the possibility of new interpretations, and she feels the danger of seeming to slight a man who is much honored—a dangerous position for any grateful woman. Having a reason to return home the next day comes as a relief, since Mary earnestly wishes to be certain that she loves Fred best. She reflects on how a tender affection stored up over many years cannot be exchanged without cheapening life itself, and that constancy, like other treasures, must be guarded. She resolves to herself, with a faint smile, that since Fred has lost all his other expectations, he must keep this one. Yet fleeting visions of another kind of life—new dignities and an acknowledged value she has often felt the lack of—do pass through her mind; but these visions, with Fred outside them, forsaken and sad for want of her, could never seriously tempt her deliberate thought.