Mrs Tulliver gave a little scream as she saw her, and felt such a `turn' that she dropt the large gravy spoon into the dish with the most serious results to the table-cloth. For Kezia had not betrayed the reason of Maggie's refusal to come down, not liking to give her mistress a shock in the moment of carving, and Mrs Tulliver thought there was nothing worse in question than a fit of perverseness which was inflicting its own punishment, by depriving Maggie of half her dinner.
Mrs Tulliver's scream made all eyes turn towards the same point as her own, and Maggie's cheeks and ears began to burn, while uncle Glegg, a kind-looking, white-haired old gentleman, said--
`Heyday! what little gell's this - why, I don't know her. It is some little gell you've picked up in the road, Kezia?'
`Why, she's gone and cut her hair herself,' said Mr Tulliver in an under-tone to Mr Deane, laughing with much enjoyment. `Did you ever know such a little hussy as it is?'
`Why, little miss. You've made yourself look very funny,' said uncle Pullet, and perhaps he never in his life made an observation which was felt to be so lacerating.
`Fie, for shame!' said aunt Glegg, in her loudest, severest tone of reproof. `Little gells as cut their own hair should be whipped and fed on bread and water - not come and sit down with their aunts and uncles.'
`Ay, ay,' said uncle Glegg, Meaning to give a playful turn to this denunciation, `she must be sent to gaol, I think, and they'll cut the rest of her hair off there, and make it all even.'
`She's more like a gypsy nor ever,' said aunt Pullet, in a pitying tone, `It's very bad luck, sister, as the gell should be so brown - the boy's fair enough. I doubt it'll stand in her way i' life, to be so brown.'
`She's a naughty child, as 'll break her mother's heart,' said Mrs Tulliver, with tears in her eyes.
Maggie seemed to be listening to a chorus of reproach and derision. Her first flush came from anger which gave her a transient power of defiance, and Tom thought she was braving it out, supported by the recent appearance of the pudding and custard. Under this impression, he whispered, `O my! Maggie, I told you you'd catch it.' He meant to be friendly, but Maggie felt convinced that Tom was rejoicing in her ignominy. Her feeble power of defiance left her in an instant, her heart swelled, and getting up from her chair, she ran to her father, hid her face on his shoulder and burst out into loud sobbing.
`Come, come, my wench,' said her father soothingly putting his arms round her, `never mind. You was i' the right to cut it off if it plagued you. Give over crying: father 'll take your part.'
Delicious words of tenderness! Maggie never forgot any of these moments when her father `took her part:' she kept them in her heart and thought of them long years after, when every one else said that her father had done very ill by his children.
`How your husband does spoil that child, Bessy!' said Mrs Glegg, in a loud `aside' to Mrs Tulliver. `It'll be the ruin of her, if you don't take care. My father niver brought his children up so, else we should ha' been a different sort o' family to what we are.'
Mrs Tulliver's domestic sorrows seemed at this moment to have reached the point at which insensibility begins. She took no notice of her sister's remark, but threw back her cap-strings and dispensed the pudding, in mute resignation.
With the dessert there came entire deliverance for Maggie, for the children were told they might have their nuts and wine in the summer-house, since the day was so mild, and they scampered out among the budding bushes of the garden, with the alacrity of small animals getting from under a burning-glass.