Chapter IV. Tom Is Expected

keditagainstthewall,nortocomfortit,andmakebelievetopoulticeit,whenherfurywasabatedforevenauntGleggwouldbepitiablewhenshehadbeenhurtverymuch,andthoroughlyhumiliated,soastobegherniece’spardon.Sincethenshehaddrivennomorenailsin,buthadsoothedherselfbyalternatelygrindingandbeatingthewoodenheadagainsttheroughbrickofthegreatchimneysthatmadetwosquarepillarssupportingtheroof.Thatwaswhatshedidthismorningonreachingtheattic,sobbingallthewhilewithapassionthatexpelledeveryotherformofconsciousness,—eventhememoryofthegrievancethathadcausedit.Asatlastthesobsweregettingquieter,andthegrindinglessfierce,asuddenbeamofsunshine,fallingthroughthewirelatticeacrosstheworm-eatenshelves,madeherthrowawaytheFetishandruntothewindow.ThesunwasreallybreakingoutthesoundofthemillseemedcheerfulagainthegranarydoorswereopenandtherewasYap,thequeerwhite-and-brownterrier,withoneearturnedback,trottingaboutandsniffingvaguely,asifhewereinsearchofacompanion.Itwasirresistible.Maggietossedherhairbackandrandownstairs,seizedherbonnetwithoutputtingiton,peeped,andthendashedalongthepassagelestsheshouldencounterhermother,andwasquicklyoutintheyard,whirlingroundlikeaPythoness,andsingingasshewhirled,“Yap,Yap,Tom’scominghome!”whileYapdancedandbarkedroundher,asmuchastosay,iftherewasanynoisewantedhewasthedogforit. “Hegh,hegh,Miss!you’llmakeyourselfgiddy,an’tumbledowni’thedirt,”saidLuke,theheadmiller,atall,broad-shoulderedmanofforty,black-eyedandblack-haired,subduedbyageneralmealiness,likeanauricula. Maggiepausedinherwhirlingandsaid,staggeringalittle,“Ohno,itdoesn’tmakemegiddy,LukemayIgointothemillwithyou?” Maggielovedtolingerinthegreatspacesofthemill,andoftencameoutwithherblackhairpowderedtoasoftwhitenessthatmadeherdarkeyesflashoutwithnewfire.Theresolutedin,theunrestingmotionofthegreatstones,givingheradim,deliciousaweasatthepresenceofanuncontrollableforcethemealforeverpouring,pouringthefinewhitepow