“Why, there’s this to be considered,” said Mr Glegg. “It’s no use to pay off this debt and save the furniture, when there’s all the law debts behind, as ’ud take every shilling, and more than could be made out o’ land and stock, for I’ve made that out from Lawyer Gore. We’d need save our money to keep the poor man with, instead o’ spending it on furniture as he can neither eat nor drink. You _will_ be so hasty, Jane, as if I didn’t know what was reasonable.” “Then speak accordingly, Mr Glegg!” said his wife, with slow, loud emphasis, bending her head toward him significantly. Tom’s countenance had fallen during this conversation, and his lip quivered; but he was determined not to give way. He would behave like a man. Maggie, on the contrary, after her momentary delight in Tom’s speech, had relapsed into her state of trembling indignation. Her mother had been standing close by Tom’s side, and had been clinging to his arm ever since he had last spoken; Maggie suddenly started up and stood in front of them, her eyes flashing like the eyes of a young lioness. “Why do you come, then,” she burst out, “talking and interfering with us and scolding us, if you don’t mean to do anything to help my poor mother—your own sister,—if you’ve no feeling for her when she’s in trouble, and won’t part with anything, though you would never miss it, to save her from pain? Keep away from us then, and don’t come to find fault with my father,—he was better than any of you; he was kind,—he would have helped _you_, if you had been in trouble. Tom and I don’t ever want to have any of your money, if you won’t help my mother. We’d rather not have it! We’ll do without you.” Maggie, having hurled her defiance at aunts and uncles in this way, stood still, with her large dark eyes glaring at them, as if she were ready to await all consequences. Mrs Tulliver was frightened; there was something portentous in this mad outbreak; she did not see how life could go on after it. Tom was vexed; it was no _use_ to talk so. The aunts were silent with surprise for some moments. At length, in a case of aberration such as this, comment presented itself as more expedient than any answer. “You haven’t seen the end o’ your trouble wi’ that child, Bessy,” said Mrs Pullet; “she’s beyond everything for boldness and unthankfulness. It’s dreadful. I might ha’ let alone paying for her schooling, for she’s worse nor ever.” “It’s no more than what I’ve allays said,” followed Mrs Glegg. “Other folks may be surprised, but I’m not. I’ve said over and over again,—years ago I’ve said,—‘Mark my words; that child ’ull come to no good; there isn’t a bit of our family in her.’ And as for her having so much schooling, I never thought well o’ that. I’d my reasons when I said _I_ wouldn’t pay anything toward it.” “Come, come,” said Mr Glegg, “let’s waste no more time in talking,—let’s go to business. Tom, now, get the pen and ink——”