"Well, and how do you do? And I hope you're good children--are you?" said Aunt Glegg, in the same loud way, as she took their hands, hurting them with her large rings, and kissing their cheeks, much against their desire. "Look up, Tom, look up. Boys as go to boarding-schools should hold their heads up. Look at me now." Tom would not do so, and tried to draw his hand away. "Put your hair behind your ears, Maggie, and keep your frock on your shoulder." Aunt Glegg always spoke to them in this loud way, as if she thought them quite deaf, or perhaps rather silly. "Well, my dears," said Aunt Pullet sadly, "you grow wonderful fast.--I doubt they'll outgrow their strength," she added, looking over their heads at their mother. "I think the gell has too much hair. I'd have it thinned and cut shorter, sister, if I was you. It isn't good for her health. It's that as makes her skin so brown, I shouldn't wonder.--Don't you think so, Sister Deane?" "I can't say, I'm sure, sister," said Mrs. Deane. "No, no," said Mr. Tulliver, "the child's healthy enough--there's nothing ails her. There's red wheat as well as white, for that matter, and some like the dark grain best. But it 'ud be as well if Bessy 'ud have the child's hair cut, so as it 'ud lie smooth." Maggie now wished to learn from her Aunt Deane whether she would leave Lucy behind to stay at the mill. Aunt Deane would hardly ever let Lucy come to see them, to Maggie's great regret. "You wouldn't like to stay behind without mother, should you, Lucy?" she said to her little daughter. "Yes, please, mother," said Lucy timidly, blushing very pink all over her little neck. "Well done, Lucy!--Let her stay, Mrs. Deane, let her stay," said Mr. Deane, a large man, who held a silver snuff-box very tightly in his hand, and now and then exchanged a pinch with Mr. Tulliver. "Maggie," said Mrs. Tulliver, beckoning Maggie to her, and whispering in her ear, as soon as this point of Lucy's staying was settled, "go and get your hair brushed--do, for shame. I told you not to come in without going to Martha first; you know I did." "Tom, come out with me," whispered Maggie, pulling his sleeve as she passed him; and Tom followed willingly enough. "Come upstairs with me, Tom," she whispered, when they were outside the door. "There's something I want to do before dinner." "There's no time to play at anything before dinner," said Tom. "Oh yes, there is time for this. Do come, Tom." Tom followed Maggie upstairs into her mother's room, and saw her go at once to a drawer, from which she took a large pair of scissors. "What are they for, Maggie?" said Tom. Maggie answered by seizing her front locks and cutting them straight across the middle of her forehead. "Oh, my buttons, Maggie, you'll catch it!" exclaimed Tom; "you'd better not cut any more off." Snip went the great scissors again while Tom was speaking; and he couldn't help feeling it was rather good fun--Maggie would look so queer.