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"Here is a new companion for you to shake hands with, Tulliver," said that gentleman on entering the study, "Master Philip Wakem. I shall leave you to make acquaintance by yourselves. You already know something of each other, I imagine; for you are neighbors at home." Tom looked confused and awkward, while Philip rose and glanced at him timidly.
Thus, all that Lucy had effected by her zealous mediation was to fill Tom's mind with the expectation that Maggie's perverse resolve to go into a situation again would presently metamorphose itself, as her resolves were apt to do, into something equally perverse, but entirely different, a marriage with Philip Wakem. Borne Along by the Tide In less than a week Maggie was at St.
Hyndmarsh retailed his grocery, not far from the offices of Mr. Wakem. That gentleman was not yet come to his office; would Mrs. Tulliver sit down by the fire in his private room and wait for him?
She had counted on this revelation as a great stroke of policy, which was to turn Tom's heart toward Philip at once, and, besides that, prove that the elder Wakem was ready to receive Maggie with all the honors of a daughter-in-law.
But there were good reasons for purchasing Dorlcote Mill, quite apart from any benevolent vengeance on the miller. It was really a capital investment; besides, Guest &Co. were going to bid for it. Mr. Guest and Mr. Wakem were on friendly dining terms, and the attorney liked to predominate over a ship-owner and mill-owner who was a little too loud in the town affairs as well as in his table-talk.
Slowly the lawyer rose, and, as he turned his head, saw that Tulliver's arms were being held by a girl, rather by the fear of hurting the girl that clung to him with all her young might. "Oh, Luke mother come and help Mr. Wakem!" Maggie cried, as she heard the longed-for footsteps.
They're pretty nigh all one, and they're not far off being even wi' the law, I believe; for Riley looks Lawyer Wakem i' the face as hard as one cat looks another. He's none frightened at him." Mr. Tulliver was speaking to his wife, a blonde, comely woman, nearly forty years old. "Well, Mr. Tulliver, you know best. I've no objections.
"Ah, well, who was it that did say so?" said Wakem, opening his desk, and moving things about, with the accompaniment of an almost inaudible whistle. "Why, sir, it was Mr. Glegg and Mr. Deane, as have all the management; and Mr. Deane thinks as Guest &Co. 'ud buy the mill and let Mr. Tulliver work it for 'em, if you didn't bid for it and raise the price.
Mrs. Tulliver shook her head a little, and looked at the hem of her pocket-handkerchief. "I've no doubt of what you say, Mrs. Tulliver," said Mr. Wakem, with cold politeness. "But you have some question to ask me?" "Well, sir, yes.
The family sitting-room was a long room with a window at each end; one looking toward the croft and along the Ripple to the banks of the Floss, the other into the mill-yard. Maggie was sitting with her work against the latter window when she saw Mr. Wakem entering the yard, as usual, on his fine black horse; but not alone, as usual. Some one was with him, a figure in a cloak, on a handsome pony.
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