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.

If she went down again to Tom now--would he forgive her?
Perhaps her father would be there, and he would take her part.

But then she wanted Tom to forgive her because he loved her, not because his father told him.

No, she would never go down if Tom didn't come to fetch her.

This resolution lasted in great intensity for five dark minutes behind the tub; but then the need of being loved--the strongest need in poor Maggie's nature--began to wrestle with her pride, and soon threw it.
She crept from behind her tub into the twilight of the long attic, but just then she heard a quick foot-step on the stairs.
Tom had been too much interested in his talk with Luke, in going the round of the premises, walking in and out where he pleased, and whittling sticks without any particular reason,--except that he didn't whittle sticks at school,--to think of Maggie and the effect his anger had produced on her.