Book 3 - Chapter 3 - Page 2

a sister, and if
the doctor orders jelly for Mr. Tulliver, I hope you'll let me know.
I'll send it willingly; for it is but right he should have proper
attendance while he's ill."

"Thank you, Susan," said Mrs. Tulliver, rather faintly, withdrawing
her fat hand from her sister's thin one. "But there's been no talk o'
jelly yet." Then after a moment's pause she added, "There's a dozen o'
cut jelly-glasses upstairs--I shall never put jelly into 'em no more."

Her voice was rather agitated as she uttered the last words, but the
sound of wheels diverted her thoughts. Mr. and Mrs. Glegg were come,
and were almost immediately followed by Mr. and Mrs. Pullet.

Mrs. Pullet entered crying, as a compendious mode, at all times, of
expressing what were her views of life in general, and what, in brief,
were the opinions she held concerning the particular case before her.

Mrs. Glegg had on her fuzziest front, and garments which appeared to
have had a recent resurrection from rather a creasy form of burial; a
costume selected with the high moral purpose of instilling perfect
humility into Bessy and her children.

"Mrs. G., won't you come nearer the fire?" said her husband, unwilling
to take the more comfortable seat without offering it to her.

"You see I've seated myself here, Mr. Glegg," returned this superior
woman; "_you_ can roast yourself, if you like."

"Well," said Mr. Glegg, seating himself good-humoredly, "and how's the
poor man upstairs?"

"Dr. Turnbull thought him a deal better this morning," said Mrs.
Tulliver; "he took more notice, and spoke to me; but he's never known
Tom yet,--looks at the poor lad as if he was a stranger, though he
said something once about Tom and the pony. The doctor says his
memory's gone a long way back, and he doesn't know Tom because he's
thinking of him when he was little. Eh dear, eh dear!"

"I doubt it's the water got on his brain," said aunt Pullet, turning
round from adjusting her cap in a melancholy way at the pier-glass.
"It's much if he ever gets up again; and if he does, he'll most like
be childish, as Mr. Carr was, poor man! They fed him with a spoon as
if he'd been a babby for three year. He'd quite lost the use of his
limbs; but then he'd got a Bath chair, and somebody to draw him; and
that's what you won't have, I doubt, Bessy."

"Sister Pullet," said Mrs. Glegg, severely, "if I understand right,
we've come together this morning to advise and consult about what's to
be done in this disgrace as has fallen upon the family, and not to
talk o' people as don't belong to us. Mr. Carr was none of our blood,
nor noways connected with us, as I've ever heared."

"Sister Glegg," said Mrs. Pullet, in a pleading tone, drawing on