The Mill on the Floss

ve-S

or Mr. Stelling, "Shall I be lame, Sir?" He mastered himself so as not to cry out at the pain; but when his foot had been dressed, and he was left alone with Maggie seated by his bedside, the children sobbed together, with their heads laid on the same pillow. Tom was thinking of himself walking about on crutches, like the wheelwright's son;

–but does Mr. Askern say

Stelling, "not permanentl

lliver so, sir,

s said to him o

go and tel

e say he may be troubling about that. Go to

lt that they were no longer in a state of repulsion, but were being drawn into a common current of suffering and sad privation. His imagination did not dwell on the outward calamity and its future effect on T

said rather timidly, as he stepped gently up to Tom's bed. "I've just been to

ip's face, as he had not done for a fortnight or more. As for Maggie, this intimation of a possibility she had not thought of before affected her as a new troub

said Tom, tenderly, feeling very

his small, delicate hand, which Tom clasped

me and sit with me sometimes, till I get up again,

f unhurt, wore excellent armor from head to foot, which made fighting easy work, he considered. He should not have hurt his foot if he had had an iron shoe on. He listened with great interest to a new story of Philip's about a man who had

Tom said, "and I dare say my foot was

to cry out, and it was cruel of people not to bear it. She wanted to know if Philoctete

t his books, and Maggie, after sauntering idly round the room, not caring to do anything in particular, because she would soon go to Tom again,

" she said. "It's poetry, I can see t

er as if he were not at all sorry to be interrupted. Maggie, in her absent way, continued to lean forward, resting on her arms and

n his elbow and looking at her, "if you had had a brother lik

used from her reverie, and said, "W

better; because I don't think I could love you better

er pity. Maggie, young as she was, felt her mistake. Hitherto she had instinctively behaved as if she were quite unconscious of Philip's deformity; her o

wish you were my brother. I'm very fond of you. And you would stay at home with me wh

n you'll forget all about me, and not care for me any more. And then I sha

bout everybody when I'm away from them. I think about poor Yap; he's got a lump in his throat, and Luke says he'll die. Only do

s you do about Yap, Maggie?" sa

d think so," said

d Philip, "and when I'm very unhappy, I shall always think of

pleased. She had never heard any one but her

y seem trying to speak,–trying to speak kindly. I don't like other

r sorrowfully. Then, wondering how she could convince Philip that

kiss you, as I do Tom

much; nobod

und his neck and kiss

ss you when I see you again, if it's ever so long. But I'll

p Wakem is so very good to Tom; he is such a clever boy, and I do love him. An

nds with him when I leave school, father; but we've made it up now, since my

s a poor crooked creature, and takes after his dead mother. But don't you be getting too thick with him

egan to walk about as usual, the friendly warmth that had been kindled by pity and gratitude died out by degrees, and left them in their old relation to each other. Philip was often peevish and contemptuous; and Tom's more specific and kindly impressions gradually melted into the