by George Eliot
Chapter II.
THE CHOICE OF A SCHOOL.
Mr. Riley, who came next day, was a gentleman with a waxen face and fathands. He talked with his host for some time about the water supply toDorlcote Mill. Then after a short silence Mr. Tulliver changed thesubject.
"There's a thing I've got i' my head," said he at last, in rather alower tone than usual, as he turned his head and looked at hiscompanion.
"Ah!" said Mr. Riley, in a tone of mild interest.
"It's a very particular thing," Mr. Tulliver went on; "it's about myboy Tom."
At the sound of this name Maggie, who was seated on a low stool closeby the fire, with a large book open on her lap, shook her heavy hairback and looked up eagerly.
"You see, I want to put him to a new school at Midsummer," said Mr.Tulliver. "He's comin' away from the 'cademy at Lady Day, an' I shalllet him run loose for a quarter; but after that I want to send him to adownright good school, where they'll make a scholard of him."
"Well," said Mr. Riley, "there's no greater advantage you can give himthan a good education."
"I don't mean Tom to be a miller and farmer," said Mr. Tulliver; "I seeno fun i' that. Why, if I made him a miller, he'd be expectin' to takethe mill an' the land, an' a-hinting at me as it was time for me to layby. Nay, nay; I've seen enough o' that wi' sons."
These words cut Maggie to the quick. Tom was supposed capable ofturning his father out of doors! This was not to be borne; and Maggiejumped up from her stool, forgetting all about her heavy book, whichfell with a bang within the fender, and going up between her father'sknees said, in a half-crying, half-angry voice,--
"Father, Tom wouldn't be naughty to you ever; I know he wouldn't."
"What! they mustn't say any harm o' Tom, eh?" said Mr. Tulliver,looking at Maggie with a twinkling eye. Then he added gently, "Go, goand see after your mother."
"Did you ever hear the like on't?" said Mr. Tulliver as Maggie retired."It's a pity but what she'd been the lad."
Mr. Riley laughed, took a pinch of snuff, and said,--
"But your lad's not stupid, is he?" said Mr. Riley. "I saw him, when Iwas here last, busy making fishing-tackle; he seemed quite up to it."
"Well, he isn't stupid. He's got a notion o' things out o' door, an' asort o' common sense, and he'll lay hold o' things by the right handle.But he's slow with his tongue, you see, and he reads but poorly, andcan't abide the books, and spells all wrong, they tell me, an' younever hear him say 'cute things like the little wench. Now, what Iwant is to send him to a school where they'll make him a bit nimblewith his tongue and his pen, and make a smart chap of him."
"You're quite in the right of it, Tulliver," observed Mr. Riley."Better spend an extra hundred or two on your son's education thanleave it him in your will."
"I dare say, now, you know of a school as 'ud be just the thing forTom," said Mr. Tulliver.
Mr. Riley took a pinch of snuff, and waited a little before he said,--
"I know of a very fine chance for any one that's got the necessarymoney, and that's what you have, Tulliver. But if any one wanted hisboy to be placed under a first-rate fellow, I know his man. He's anOxford man, and a parson. He's willing to take one or two boys aspupils to fill up his time. The boys would be quite of the family--thefinest thing in the world for them--under Stelling's eye continually."
"But do you think they'd give the poor lad twice o' pudding?" said Mrs.Tulliver, who was now in her place again.
"And what money 'ud he want?" said Mr. Tulliver.
"Stelling is moderate in his terms; he's not a grasping man," said Mr.Riley. "I've no doubt he'd take your boy at a hundred. I'll write tohim about it if you like."
Mr. Tulliver rubbed his knees, and looked at the carpet.
"But belike he's a bachelor," observed Mrs. Tulliver, "an' I've noopinion o' house-keepers. It 'ud break my heart to send Tom wherethere's a housekeeper, an' I hope you won't think of it, Mr. Tulliver."
"You may set your mind at rest on that score, Mrs. Tulliver," said Mr.Riley, "for Stelling is married to as nice a little woman as any manneed wish for a wife. There isn't a kinder little soul in the world."
"Father," broke in Maggie, who had stolen to her father's elbow again,listening with parted lips, while she held her doll topsy-turvy, andcrushed its nose against the wood of the chair--"father, is it a longway off where Tom is to go? Shan't we ever go to see him?"
"I don't know, my wench," said the father tenderly. "Ask Mr. Riley; heknows."
Maggie came round promptly in front of Mr. Riley, and said, "How far isit, please sir?"
"Oh, a long, long way off," that gentleman answered. "You must borrowthe seven-leagued boots to get to him."
"That's nonsense!" said Maggie, tossing her head and turning away withthe tears springing to her eyes.
"Hush, Maggie, for shame of you, chattering so," said her mother."Come and sit down on your little stool, and hold your tongue, do.But," added Mrs. Tulliver, who had her own alarm awakened, "is it sofar off as I couldn't wash him and mend him?"
"About fifteen miles, that's all," said Mr. Riley. "You can drivethere and back in a day quite comfortably. Or--Stelling is a kind,pleasant man--he'd be glad to have you stay."
"But it's too far off for the linen, I doubt," said Mrs. Tulliver sadly.