The fact that he got through his supines without mistake the next day, encouraged him to persevere in this appendix to his prayers, and neutralised any scepticism that might have arisen from Mr Stelling's continued demand for Euclid.But his faith broke down under the apparent absence of all help when he got into the irregular verbs.It seemed clear that Tom's despair under the caprices of the present tense did not constitute a nodus worthy of interference, and since this was the climax of his difficulties, where was the use of praying for help any longer? He made up his mind to this conclusion in one of his dull, lonely evenings, which he spent in the study, preparing his lessons for the morrow.His eyes were apt to get dim over the page - though he hated crying and was ashamed of it: he couldn't help thinking with some affection even of Spouncer whom he used to fight and quarrel with; he would have felt at home with Spouncer, and in a condition of superiority.And then the mill, and the river, and Yap pricking up his ears, ready to obey the least sign when Tom said `Hoigh!' would all come before him in a sort of calenture, when his fingers played absently in his pocket with his great knife and his coil of whip-cord, and other relics of the past.Tom, as I said, had never been so much like a girl in his life before, and at that epoch of irregular verbs his spirit was further depressed by a new means of mental development, which had been thought of for him out of school hours.Mrs Stelling had lately had her second baby, and as nothing could be more salutary for a boy than to feel himself useful, Mrs Stelling considered she was doing Tom a service by setting him to watch the little cherub Laura, while the nurse was occupied with the sickly baby.It was quite a pretty employment for Tom to take little Laura out in the sunniest hour of the autumn day - it would help to make him feel that Lorton Parsonage was a home for him, and that he was one of the family.The little cherub Laura, not being an accomplished walker at present, had a ribbon fastened round her waist, by which Tom held her as if she had been a little dog, during the minutes in which she chose to walk, but as these were rare, he was for the most part carrying this fine child round and round the garden, within sight of Mrs Stelling's window - according to orders.If any one considers this unfair and even oppressive towards Tom, I beg him to consider that there are feminine virtues which are with difficulty combined, even if they are not incompatible.When the wife of a poor curate contrives under all her disadvantages to dress extremely well, and to have a style of coiffure which requires that her nurse shall occasionally officiate as lady's maid, - when, moreover, her dinner parties and her drawing-room show that effort at elegance and completeness of appointment to which ordinary women might imagine a large income necessary, it would be unreasonable to expect of her that she should employ a second nurse or even act as a nurse herself.Mr Stelling knew better: he saw that his wife did wonders already, and was proud of her: it was certainly not the best thing in the world for young Tulliver's gait, to carry a heavy child, but he had plenty of exercise in long walks with himself, and next half-year Mr Stelling would see about having a drilling-master.Among the many means whereby Mr Stelling intended to be more fortunate than the bulk of his fellow-men, he had entirely given up that of having his own way in his own house.What then? he had married `as kind a little soul as ever breathed'
according to Mr Riley, who had been acquainted with Mrs Stelling's blond ringlets and smiling demeanour throughout her maiden life and on the strength of that knowledge would have been ready any day to pronounce that whatever domestic differences might arise in her married life must be entirely Mr Stelling's fault.
If Tom had had a worse disposition, he would certainly have hated the little cherub Laura, but he was too kind-hearted a lad for that - there was too much in him of the fibre that turns to true manliness, and to protecting pity for the weak.I am afraid he hated Mrs Stelling, and contracted a lasting dislike to pale blond ringlets and broad plaits as directly associated with haughtiness of manner and a frequent reference to other people's `duty.'
But he couldn't help playing with little Laura, and liking to amuse her:
he even sacrificed his percussion-caps for her sake, in despair of their ever serving a greater purpose - thinking the small flash and bang would delight her, and thereby drawing down on himself a rebuke from Mrs Stelling for teaching her child to play with fire.Laura was a sort of playfellow - and O how Tom longed for playfellows! In his secret heart, he yearned to have Maggie with him, and was almost ready to doat on her exasperating acts of forgetfulness; though when he was at home, he always represented it as a great favour on his part to let Maggie trot by his side on his pleasure excursions.
And before this dreary half year was ended, Maggie actually came.Mrs Stelling had given a general invitation for the little girl to come and stay with her brother; so when Mr Tulliver drove over to King's Lorton late in October, Maggie came too, with the sense that she was taking a great journey and beginning to see the world.It was Mr Tulliver's first visit to see Tom, for the lad must learn not to think too much about home.
`Well, my lad,' he said to Tom, when Mr Stelling had left the room to announce the arrival to his wife, and Maggie had begun to kiss Tom freely, `you look rarely! School agrees with you.'--Tom wished he had looked rather ill.
`I don't think I am well, father,' said Tom.`I wish you'd ask Mr Stelling not to let me do Euclid - it brings on the toothache, I think.'
(The toothache was the only malady to which Tom had ever been subject.)`Euclid, my lad - why, what's that?' said Mr Tulliver.
`O I don't know: it's definitions and axioms and triangles and things.
It's a book I've got to learn in - there's no sense in it.'
