'To put an end to all the trouble in the world, I would make a sacrifice.'
'No,' she said, shaking her head, I really haven't courage to ask.'
'What is it?' demanded uncle Bryan impatiently.
Then ensued a perfect piece of comedy-acting on the part of Jessie Trim; who, when she had worked uncle Bryan almost into a passion, made the prettiest of curtseys, and said that the only thing she wanted to make her feel quite amiable was a piece of candied lemon-peel.
'I always,' she added, with the oddest little twinkle in her eyes, 'like something sweet to finish my meals with.'
The expression on uncle Bryan's face was so singular that I did not know if he was going to laugh or storm. But Jessie got her piece of candied lemon-peel, and chewed it with great contentment, and with many sly looks at uncle Bryan.
'Now, then,' he cried, 'it is time to go to bed.'
'It isn't healthy,' observed Jessie, who seemed determined to upset all the rules of the house, 'to go to bed the moment after one has eaten a heavy supper.' She spoke with perfect gravity, and with the serious authority of a grown-up woman.
'Then we are to sit up after our time because you have over-eaten yourself.'
'I have not over-eaten myself: I have had just enough. I wish you wouldn't say disagreeable things; you would find it much nicer not to. If you think I am not right in what I say about going to bed immediately after supper, of course I will go. You are much older than I, and ought to be much wiser.'