"Well, I do, if she doesn't," returned the mother, "and, anyhow,
I don't like you to talk that way to me. You're too young to put
on such an air with your mother."

"Oh, mamma, don't row,"; answered Jessica. "What's the matter
this morning, anyway?"

"Nothing's the matter, and I'm not rowing. You mustn't think
because I indulge you in some things that you can keep everybody
waiting. I won't have it."

"I'm not keeping anybody waiting," returned Jessica, sharply,
stirred out of a cynical indifference to a sharp defence. "I
said I wasn't hungry. I don't want any breakfast."

"Mind how you address me, missy. I'll not have it. Hear me now;
I'll not have it!"

Jessica heard this last while walking out of the room, with a
toss of her head and a flick of her pretty skirts indicative of
the independence and indifference she felt. She did not propose
to be quarrelled with.

Such little arguments were all too frequent, the result of a
growth of natures which were largely independent and selfish.
George, Jr., manifested even greater touchiness and exaggeration
in the matter of his individual rights, and attempted to make all
feel that he was a man with a man's privileges--an assumption
which, of all things, is most groundless and pointless in a youth
of nineteen.