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he answered, resting his head on his hand and looking at her, as if he were not at all sorry to be interrupted.Maggie, in her absent way, continued to lean forward, resting on her arms and moving her feet about, while her dark eyes got more and more fixed and vacant as if she had quite forgotten Philip and his book.

`Maggie,' said Philip, after a minute or two, still leaning on his elbow and looking at her, `if you had had a brother like me - do you think you should have loved him as well as Tom?'

Maggie started a little on being roused for her reverie, and said, `What?'

Philip repeated his question.

`O yes, better,' she answered, immediately.`No, not better: because I don't think I could love you better than Tom.But I should be so sorry - so sorry for you.'

Philip coloured: he had meant to imply, would she love him as well in spite of his deformity, and yet when she alluded to it so plainly, he winced under her pity.Maggie, young as she was, felt her mistake.Hitherto she had instinctively behaved as if she were quite unconscious of Philip's deformity: her own keen sensitiveness and experience under family criticism sufficed to teach her this, as well as if she had been directed by the most finished breeding.

`But you are so very clever, Philip, and you can play and sing,' she added, quickly, `I wish you were my brother - I'm very fond of you, and you would stay at home with me when Tom went out, and you would teach me everything, wouldn't you? Greek and everything.'

`But you'll go away soon, and go to school, Maggie,' said Philip, `and then you'll forget all about me and not care for me any more.And then I shall see you when you're grown up, and you'll hardly take any notice of me.'

`O no, I shan't forget you, I'm sure,' said Maggie, shaking her head very seriously.`I never forget anything, and I think about everybody when I'm away from them.I think about poor Yap - he's got a lump in his throat, and Luke says he'll die.Only don't you tell Tom, because it will vex him so.You never saw Yap: he's a queer little dog - nobody cares about him but Tom and me.'

`Do you care as much about me as you do about Yap, Maggie?' said Philip, smiling rather sadly.

`O yes, I should think so,' said Maggie, laughing.

`I'am very fond of you , Maggie; I shall never forget you ,'

said Philip, `and when I'm very unhappy, I shall always think of you, and wish I had a sister with dark eyes just like yours.'

`Why do you like my eyes?' said Maggie, well pleased.She had never heard any one but her father speak of her eyes as if they had merit.

`I don't know,' said Philip.`They're not like any other eyes.They seem trying to speak - trying to speak kindly.I don't like other people to look at me much, but I like you to look at me, Maggie.'

`Why, I think you're fonder of me than Tom is,' said Maggie, rather sorrowfully.Then, wondering how she could convince Philip that she could like him just as well, although he was crooked, she said, `Should you like me to kiss you, as I do Tom? I will, if you like.'

`Yes, very much: nobody kisses me.'

Maggie put her arm round his neck and kissed him quite earnestly.

`There now,' she said, `I shall always remember you, and kiss you when I see you again, if it's ever so long.But I'll go now, because I think Mr Askern's done with Tom's foot.'

When their father came the second time, Maggie said to him, `O father, Philip Wakem is so very good to Tom - he is such a clever boy, and I do love him.And you love him too, Tom, don't you? Say you love him,'

she added entreatingly.

Tom coloured a little as he looked at his father and said, `I shan't be friends with him when I leave school, father; but we've made it up now, since my foot has been bad, and he's taught me to play at draughts, and I can beat him.'

`Well, Well,' said Mr Tulliver, `if he's good to you, try and make him amends and be good to him.He's a poor crooked creatur and takes after his dead mother.But don't you be getting too thick with him - he's got his father's blood in him too.Ay, ay, the grey colt may chance to kick like his black sire.'

The jarring natures of the two boys effected what Mr Tulliver's admonition alone might have failed to effect: in spite of Philip's new kindness and Tom's answering regard in this time of his trouble they never became close friends.When Maggie was gone, and when Tom by and by began to walk about as usual, the friendly warmth that had been kindled by pity and gratitude died out by degrees, and left them in their old relation to each other.

Philip was often peevish and contemptuous: and Tom's more specific and kindly impressions gradually melted into the old background of suspicion and dislike towards him as a queer fellow, a humpback, and the son of a rogue.If boys and men are to be welded together in the glow of transient feeling, they must be made of metal that will mix: else they inevitably fall asunder when the heat dies out.