astonished. "You think you're very wise. But 'bonus' means 'good,' as it
happens--'bonus, bona, bonum.'"

"Well, that's no reason why it shouldn't mean 'gift,'" said Maggie,
stoutly. "It may mean several things--almost every word does.
There's 'lawn'--it means the grass-plot, as well as the stuff
pocket-handkerchiefs are made of."

"Well done, little 'un," said Mr. Tulliver, laughing, while Tom felt
rather disgusted with Maggie's knowingness, though beyond measure
cheerful at the thought that she was going to stay with him. Her conceit
would soon be overawed by the actual inspection of his books.

Mrs. Stelling, in her pressing invitation, did not mention a longer time
than a week for Maggie's stay; but Mr. Stelling, who took her between
his knees, and asked her where she stole her dark eyes from, insisted
that she must stay a fortnight. Maggie thought Mr. Stelling was a
charming man, and Mr. Tulliver was quite proud to leave his little wench
where she would have an opportunity of showing her cleverness to
appreciating strangers. So it was agreed that she should not be fetched
home till the end of the fortnight.

"Now, then, come with me into the study, Maggie," said Tom, as their
father drove away. "What do you shake and toss your head now for, you
silly?" he continued; for, though her hair was now under a new
dispensation, and was brushed smoothly behind her ears, she seemed still
in imagination to be tossing it out of her eyes. "It makes you look as
if you were crazy."

"Oh, I can't help it," said Maggie, impatiently. "Don't tease me, Tom.