"I don't suppose you are, but there may be no Carter or Nan next time and you may come off worse than you have these two times. You may thank your stars that I came along when I did."
"Oh, I don't know," returned Jack nonchalantly; "I had my hat pin, you know. I bought the longest, sharpest one I could find."
"Do you always carry it?"
"I do ever since that first day. I would have jabbed him good if he had come too near."
"But he might have kept you there for hours."
"Oh, no, for I would have called the first person that came along and would have made whoever it was send him off. I think next time I go out of the garden I'll carry a bottle of ammonia, and if he comes I'll throw it all over him."
"You might put his eyes out, and that would be horrible. No, don't do any such desperate thing. Make up your mind to stay where you belong and don't go off on these wild excursions by yourself."
"But I like to go. It's more fun to go by yourself, for then you can stop and look in at all the shop windows you want to, and if you want to ask questions of any one, there's nobody by to hurry you along and say you mustn't."
"Oh, Jack, Jack," said Nan, "there's no doing anything with you. Come along now and tell mother where you have been; you know that is what you will have to do."
There was no use in trying to squirm out of this duty as Jack well knew, so she went in and made her confession, received her lecture placidly and took her punishment stolidly. She was to stay at home from the next outing, wherever that might be. She was a nervous excitable child under some circumstances, but the expected never ruffled her; it was only the unexpected which did.