“But the right thing ’ud be for Tulliver
to go and make it up with her himself, and say he
was sorry for speaking so rash. If he’s
borrowed money of her, he shouldn’t be above
that,” said Mrs. Pullet, whose partiality did
not blind her to principles; she did not forget what
was due to people of independent fortune.
“It’s no use talking o’ that,”
said poor Mrs. Tulliver, almost peevishly. “If
I was to go down on my bare knees on the gravel to
Tulliver, he’d never humble himself.”
“Well, you can’t expect me to persuade
Jane to beg pardon,” said Mrs. Pullet.
“Her temper’s beyond everything; it’s
well if it doesn’t carry her off her mind, though
there never was any of our family went to a
madhouse.”
“I’m not thinking of her begging pardon,”
said Mrs. Tulliver. “But if she’d
just take no notice, and not call her money in; as
it’s not so much for one sister to ask of another;
time ’ud mend things, and Tulliver ’ud
forget all about it, and they’d be friends again.”
Mrs. Tulliver, you perceive, was not aware of her
husband’s irrevocable determination to pay in
the five hundred pounds; at least such a determination
exceeded her powers of belief.
“Well, Bessy,” said Mrs. Pullet, mournfully,
“I don’t want to help you on to
ruin. I won’t be behindhand i’ doing
you a good turn, if it is to be done. And I don’t
like it said among acquaintance as we’ve got
quarrels in the family. I shall tell Jane that;
and I don’t mind driving to Jane’s tomorrow,
if Pullet doesn’t mind. What do you say,
Mr. Pullet?”
“I’ve no objections,” said Mr. Pullet,
who was perfectly contented with any course the quarrel
might take, so that Mr. Tulliver did not apply to
him for money. Mr. Pullet was nervous about
his investments, and did not see how a man could have
any security for his money unless he turned it into
land.
After a little further discussion as to whether it
would not be better for Mrs. Tulliver to accompany
them on a visit to sister Glegg, Mrs. Pullet, observing
that it was tea-time, turned to reach from a drawer
a delicate damask napkin, which she pinned before her
in the fashion of an apron. The door did, in
fact, soon open, but instead of the tea-tray, Sally
introduced an object so startling that both Mrs. Pullet
and Mrs. Tulliver gave a scream, causing uncle Pullet
to swallow his lozenge—for the fifth time
in his life, as he afterward noted.
Maggie Behaves Worse Than She Expected
The startling object which thus made an epoch for
uncle Pullet was no other than little Lucy, with one
side of her person, from her small foot to her bonnet-crown,
wet and discolored with mud, holding out two tiny
blackened hands, and making a very piteous face.
To account for this unprecedented apparition in aunt
Pullet’s parlor, we must return to the moment
when the three children went to play out of doors,
