“Oh, go to Greenwich! You are always wanting something. Girls want a mighty sight of waiting on. I won’t go.”
Jessie turned away from her ungracious brother wishing, as she had so often done, that he “was more like Guy.” Had it been a little earlier in the afternoon, she would have gone alone; but as it was nearly dark she preferred company.
“Oh dear!” sighed she, “what shall I do? I wish Guy was in.”
“Perhaps you would accept an old man’s company,” said her uncle, rising and buttoning up his coat.
“I should be very, very glad to have it, but I don’t want to trouble you, Uncle,” she replied.
“It’s no trouble to go out with my little puss. Besides, by going, I can give this drone-like brother of yours a practical lesson in that love and politeness which he so much despises. I shall certainly be happier going with you, than he will be in the indulgence of his selfishness before the fire.”
Hugh said something in a grumbling tone which neither his uncle nor sister understood.
In a few minutes the good old man, having firm hold of Jessie’s hand, was breasting the cold wind as they walked smartly along the frozen road leading to the village.
“You will have a chance to try your new skates to-morrow if it is as cold as this all night,” said Mr. Morris, as they crossed the bridge over the brook.
“Won’t that be nice?” replied Jessie; “Carrie Sherwood has a pair too, and we will both try together. I guess I shall get some bumps though before I learn to skate well. I wish we had some one to teach us how to use them.”