“Then don’t call me Mr. Temple. I’m not used to that name from my friends. Call me Tom.”
“If you wish me to,” said Mary bashfully.
“Yes, I do. When you call me Mr. Temple, it makes me feel as if I were your uncle, or grandfather, or some one equally venerable.”
Mary laughed.
“Perhaps you’d like to have me call you Uncle Tom,” she said.
“That would be better than Mr. Temple,” said our hero, “but as there’s another well-known Uncle Tom, I would rather be called only Tom.”
“I’ll remember, Tom,” said Mary hesitatingly.
“That’s right,” said Tom with satisfaction.
They talked together pleasantly until they reached Mr. Davenport’s house. Imogene saw them coming from the front window where she was sitting, and her face grew dark with vexation and jealousy.