Book 3 - Chapter 4 - Page 2

Wakem laying hold of everything? Why don't you
tell me what you've been a-doing?" he added impatiently, as Mr. Glegg
advanced to the foot of the bed before speaking.

"No, no, friend Tulliver," said Mr. Glegg, in a soothing tone.
"Nobody's getting hold of anything as yet. We only came to look and
see what was in the chest. You've been ill, you know, and we've had to
look after things a bit. But let's hope you'll soon be well enough to
attend to everything yourself."

Mr. Tulliver looked around him meditatively, at Tom, at Mr. Glegg, and
at Maggie; then suddenly appearing aware that some one was seated by
his side at the head of the bed he turned sharply round and saw his
sister.

"Eh, Gritty!" he said, in the half-sad, affectionate tone in which he
had been wont to speak to her. "What! you're there, are you? How could
you manage to leave the children?"

"Oh, brother!" said good Mrs. Moss, too impulsive to be prudent, "I'm
thankful I'm come now to see you yourself again; I thought you'd never
know us any more."

"What! have I had a stroke?" said Mr. Tulliver, anxiously, looking at
Mr. Glegg.

"A fall from your horse--shook you a bit,--that's all, I think," said
Mr. Glegg. "But you'll soon get over it, let's hope."

Mr. Tulliver fixed his eyes on the bed-clothes, and remained silent
for two or three minutes. A new shadow came over his face. He looked
up at Maggie first, and said in a lower tone, "You got the letter,
then, my wench?"

"Yes, father," she said, kissing him with a full heart. She felt as if
her father were come back to her from the dead, and her yearning to
show him how she had always loved him could be fulfilled.

"Where's your mother?" he said, so preoccupied that he received the
kiss as passively as some quiet animal might have received it.

"She's downstairs with my aunts, father. Shall I fetch her?"

"Ay, ay; poor Bessy!" and his eyes turned toward Tom as Maggie left
the room.

"You'll have to take care of 'em both if I die, you know, Tom. You'll
be badly off, I doubt. But you must see and pay everybody. And
mind,--there's fifty pound o' Luke's as I put into the business,--he
gave me a bit at a time, and he's got nothing to show for it. You must
pay him first thing."

Uncle Glegg involuntarily shook his head, and looked more concerned
than ever, but Tom said firmly:

"Yes, father. And haven't you a note from my uncle Moss for three
hundred pounds? We came to look for that. What do you wish to be done
about it, father?"

"Ah! I'm glad you thought o' that, my lad," said Mr. Tulliver. "I
allays meant to be easy about that money, because o' your aunt. You
mustn't mind losing the money, if they can't pay