“No, indeed; he must not go with you,” said Mrs Shingle.
“Don’t be cruel, aunt,” said Tom appealingly. “I don’t like Jessie to go by herself.”
“There, then, she’s not going by herself; I’m going with her,” exclaimed Mrs Shingle.
“Then let me go instead.”
“No, no,” cried Jessie, getting agitated; “you must not.”
“You have some reason, Jessie,” said Tom, looking at her suspiciously.
“No, no, Tom. Don’t look at me like that,” she cried.
“Then tell me why,” he said, sternly.
“The man at the warehouse made remarks last time you came,” said Jessie, hesitating.
“I’ll make marks and remarks on him, if he does,” cried Tom. “Aunt,” he continued angrily, “I can’t bear it. It’s not right for Jessie to go alone; and I don’t believe you were going. It makes me half mad to think that she may be insulted by some puppy or another, and I not be there to knock him down.”