There was a dead silence as Tom's pen moved along the paper.

"Now let me hear what you've wrote," said Mr. Tulliver; and Tom read
aloud, slowly.

"Now, write--write as you'll remember what Wakem's done to your father,
and you'll make him and his feel it, if ever the day comes. And sign
your name--Thomas Tulliver!"

"Oh, no, father, dear father!" said Maggie, trembling like a leaf. "You
shouldn't make Tom write that!"

"Be quiet, Maggie!" said Tom, impatiently, "I shall write it!"


_IV.--In Death They Were Not Divided_


The Red Deeps was always a favourite place to Maggie to walk in. An old
stone quarry, so long exhausted that both mounds and hollows were now
clothed with brambles and trees, and with here and there a stretch of
grass which a few sheep kept close nibbled. This was the Red Deeps, and
it was here in June that Maggie once more met Philip Wakem, five years
after their first meeting at Mr. Stelling's. He told her that she was
much more beautiful than he had thought she would be, and assured her,
in answer to the difficulties she raised as to their meeting, that there
was no enmity in his father's mind.

And Maggie went home with an inward conflict already begun, and Philip