“I know you say you do,” she faltered.
“And I think you care for me—a little.”
“Oh no, I don’t think I do—not a bit,” she said, half archly, half with the tears in her sweet eyes, as they would look tenderly at him, and seemed to say how much she would like him to come and protect her.
“I do not believe you, my darling,” he cried impetuously. “I’m quite satisfied about that. Aunt dear, you’ll let me go with her?”
“I don’t like it,” said Mrs Shingle; “and I’m sure it will lead to trouble.”
“Not it. Come, Jessie!”
“No, no, no!” cried Jessie. “Indeed you ought not to come, Tom.”
“Tom! Well, I must come after that,” he cried.
“Oh no: I did not mean it.”
“Well, look here,” said the young fellow. “Listen, both of you. If you will not let me walk with you side by side, I’ll follow like a shadow.”