"You're a naughty girl," said Tom severely, "and I'm sorry I bought you
the fish-line. I don't love you."

"O Tom, it's very cruel," sobbed Maggie. "I'd forgive you if you
forgot anything--I wouldn't mind what you did--I'd forgive you and love
you."

"Yes, you're a silly; but I never do forget things--I don't."

"Oh, please forgive me, Tom; my heart will break," said Maggie, shaking
with sobs, clinging to Tom's arm, and laying her wet cheek on his
shoulder.

Tom shook her off. "Now, Maggie, you just listen. Aren't I a good
brother to you?"

"Ye-ye-es," sobbed Maggie.

"Didn't I think about your fish-line all this quarter, and mean to buy
it, and saved my money o' purpose, and wouldn't go halves in the
toffee, and Spouncer fought me because I wouldn't?"

"Ye-ye-es--and I--lo-lo-love you so, Tom."

"But you're a naughty girl. Last holidays you licked the paint off my
lozenge-box; and the holidays before that you let the boat drag my
fish-line down when I'd set you to watch it, and you pushed your head
through my kite, all for nothing."

"But I didn't mean," said Maggie; "I couldn't help it."

"Yes, you could," said Tom, "if you'd minded what you were doing. And
you're a naughty girl, and you shan't go fishing with me to-morrow."

With this Tom ran away from Maggie towards the mill, meaning to greet
Luke there, and complain to him of Harry.

"Oh, he is cruel!" Maggie sobbed aloud. She would stay up in the attic
and starve herself--hide herself behind the tub, and stay there all
night; and then they would all be frightened, and Tom would be sorry.

Thus Maggie thought in the pride of her heart, as she crept behind the
tub; but presently she began to cry again at the idea that they didn't
mind her being there.

Meanwhile, Tom was too much interested in his talk with Luke, and in
going the round of the mill, to think of Maggie at all. But when he
had been called in to tea, his father said, "Why, where's the little
wench?" And Mrs. Tulliver, almost at the same moment, said, "Where's
your little sister?"

"I don't know," said Tom. He didn't want to "tell" of Maggie, though
he was angry with her; for Tom Tulliver was a lad of honour.

"What! hasn't she been playing with you all this while?" said the
father. "She'd been thinking o' nothing but your coming home."

"I haven't seen her this two hours," says Tom.

"Goodness heart! she's got drownded," exclaimed Mrs. Tulliver, rising
from her seat a