`Yes, I do know - I know it too well.I know how differently you must feel about all that affects our family and your own dignity as a young woman, before you could think of receiving secret addresses from Philip Wakem.If it was not disgusting to me in every other way, I should object to my sister's name being associated for a moment with that of a young man whose father must hate the very thought of us all, and would spurn you.With any one but you, I should think it quite certain that what you witnessed just before my father's death, would secure you from ever thinking again of Philip Wakem as a lover.But I don't feel certain of it with you - I never feel certain about anything with you.At one time you take pleasure in a sort of perverse self-denial, and at another, you have not resolution to resist a thing that you know to be wrong.'
There was a terrible cutting truth in Tom's words - that hard rind of truth which is discerned by unimaginative, unsympathetic minds.Maggie always writhed under this judgment of Tom's: she rebelled and was humiliated in the same moment: it seemed as if he held a glass before her to show her her own folly and weakness - as if he were a prophetic voice predicting her future fallings - and yet, all the while, she judged him in return:
she said inwardly, that he was narrow and unjust, that he was below feeling those mental needs which were often the source of the wrong-doing or absurdity that made her life a planless riddle to him.
She did not answer directly - her heart was too full, and she sat down, leaning her arm on the table.It was no use trying to make Tom feel that she was near to him.He always repelled her.Her feeling under his words was complicated by the allusion to the last scene between her father and Wakem, and at length that painful, solemn memory surmounted the immediate grievance.No! She did not think of such things with frivolous indifference, and Tom must not accuse her of that.She looked up at him with a grave, earnest gaze, and said, `I can't make you think better of me, Tom, by anything I can say.But I am not so shut out from all your feelings as you believe me to be.Isee as well as you do, that from our position with regard to Philip's father - not on other grounds - it would be unreasonable - it would be wrong for us to entertain the idea of marriage, and I have given up thinking of him as a lover...I am telling you the truth and you have no right to disbelieve me: I have kept my word to you, and you have never detected me in a falsehood.
I should not only not encourage, I should carefully avoid any intercourse with Philip on any other footing than that of quiet friendship - of a distant kind.You may think that I am unable to keep my resolutions - but at least you ought not to treat me with that hard contempt on the ground of faults that I have not committed yet.'
`Well, Maggie,' said Tom, softening under this appeal, `I don't want to overstrain matters.I think, all things considered, it will be best for you to see Philip Wakem, if Lucy wishes him to come to the house.Ibelieve what you say - at least you believe it yourself, I know: I can only warn you.I wish to be as good a brother to you as you will let me.'
There was a little tremor in Tom's voice as he uttered the last words, and Maggie's ready affection came back with as sudden a glow as when they were children and bit their cake together as a sacrament of conciliation.
She rose and laid her hand on Tom's shoulder.
`Dear Tom - I know you mean to be good.I know you have had a great deal to bear, and have done a great deal.I should like to be a comfort to you - not to vex you.You don't think I'm altogether naughty, now, do you?'
Tom smiled at the eager face: his smiles were very pleasant to see when they did come, for the grey eyes could be tender underneath the frown.
`No, Maggie.'
`I may turn out better than you expect.'
`I hope you will.'
`And may I come some day and make tea for you, and see this extremely small wife of Bob's again?'
`Yes, but trot away now, for I've no more time to spare,' said Tom, looking at his watch.
`Not to give me a kiss?'
Tom bent to kiss her cheek, and then said, `There! Be a good girl.I've got a great deal to think of to-day.I'm going to have a long consultation with my uncle Deane this afternoon.'
`You'll come to aunt Glegg's tomorrow? We're going all to dine early, that we may go there to tea.You must come: Lucy told me to say so.'
`O Pooh! I've plenty else to do,' said Tom, pulling his bell violently and bringing down the small bell-rope.
`I'm frightened - I shall run away,' said Maggie, making a laughing retreat; while Tom, with masculine philosophy, flung the bell-rope to the father end of the room - not very far either: a touch of human experience which I flatter myself will come home to the bosoms of not a few substantial or distinguished men who were once at an early stage of their rise in the world and were cherishing very large hopes in very small lodgings.
