Book 5 - Chapter 5 - Page 2

smart, aunt. I think it's too showy for
me,--at least for my other clothes, that I must wear with it.

"To be sure, it 'ud be unbecoming if it wasn't well known you've got
them belonging to you as can afford to give you such things when
they've done with 'em themselves. It stands to reason I must give my
own niece clothes now and then,--such things as _I_ buy every year,
and never wear anything out. And as for Lucy, there's no giving to
her, for she's got everything o' the choicest; sister Deane may well
hold her head up,--though she looks dreadful yallow, poor thing--I
doubt this liver complaint 'ull carry her off. That's what this new
vicar, this Dr. Kenn, said in the funeral sermon to-day."

"Ah, he's a wonderful preacher, by all account,--isn't he, Sophy?"
said Mrs. Tulliver.

"Why, Lucy had got a collar on this blessed day," continued Mrs.
Pullet, with her eyes fixed in a ruminating manner, "as I don't say I
haven't got as good, but I must look out my best to match it."

"Miss Lucy's called the bell o' St. Ogg's, they say; that's a cur'ous
word," observed Mr. Pullet, on whom the mysteries of etymology
sometimes fell with an oppressive weight.

"Pooh!" said Mr. Tulliver, jealous for Maggie, "she's a small thing,
not much of a figure. But fine feathers make fine birds. I see nothing
to admire so much in those diminutive women; they look silly by the
side o' the men,--out o' proportion. When I chose my wife, I chose her
the right size,--neither too little nor too big."

The poor wife, with her withered beauty, smiled complacently.

"But the men aren't _all_ big," said uncle Pullet, not without some
self-reference; "a young fellow may be good-looking and yet not be a
six-foot, like Master Tom here.

"Ah, it's poor talking about littleness and bigness,--anybody may
think it's a mercy they're straight," said aunt Pullet. "There's that
mismade son o' Lawyer Wakem's, I saw him at church to-day. Dear, dear!
to think o' the property he's like to have; and they say he's very
queer and lonely, doesn't like much company. I shouldn't wonder if he
goes out of his mind; for we never come along the road but he's
a-scrambling out o' the trees and brambles at the Red Deeps."

This wide statement, by which Mrs. Pullet represented the fact that
she had twice seen Philip at the spot indicated, produced an effect on
Maggie which was all the stronger because Tom sate opposite her, and
she was intensely anxious to look indifferent. At Philip's name she
had blushed, and the blush deepened every instant from consciousness,
until the mention of the Red Deeps made her feel as if the whole
secret were betrayed, and she dared not even hold her tea-spoon lest
she should show how she trembled.