Book 2 - Chapter 6

A Love-Scene

Poor Tom bore his severe pain heroically, and was resolute in not
"telling" of Mr. Poulter more than was unavoidable; the five-shilling
piece remained a secret even to Maggie. But there was a terrible dread
weighing on his mind, so terrible that he dared not even ask the
question which might bring the fatal "yes"; he dared not ask the
surgeon 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; and Maggie, who did not guess what was in his mind, sobbed for
company. It had not occurred to the surgeon or to Mr. Stelling to
anticipate this dread in Tom's mind, and to reassure him by hopeful
words. But Philip watched the surgeon out of the house, and waylaid
Mr. Stelling to ask the very question that Tom had not dared to ask
for himself.

"I beg your pardon, sir,--but does Mr. Askern say Tulliver will be
lame?"

"Oh, no; oh, no," said Mr. Stelling, "not permanently; only for a
little while."

"Did he tell Tulliver so, sir, do you think?"

"No; nothing was said to him on the subject."

"Then may I go and tell him, sir?"

"Yes, to be sure; now you mention it, I dare say he may be troubling
about that. Go to his bedroom, but be very quiet at present."

It had been Philip's first thought when he heard of the
accident,--"Will Tulliver be lame? It will be very hard for him if he
is"; and Tom's hitherto unforgiven offences were washed out by that
pity. Philip felt 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 Tom's life, but it made vividly present to him
the probable state of Tom's feeling. Philip had only lived fourteen
years, but those years had, most of them, been steeped in the sense of
a lot irremediably hard.

"Mr. Askern says you'll soon be all right again, Tulliver, did you
know?" he said rather timidly, as he stepped gently up to Tom's bed.
"I've just been to ask Mr. Stelling, and he says you'll walk as well
as ever again by-and-day."

Tom looked up with that momentary stopping of the breath which comes
with a sudden joy; then he gave a long sigh, and turned his blue-gray
eyes straight on Philip'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 trouble; the bare idea of
Tom's being always