e," said Jeremy again, seeing in front of him the whole
family of the Reverend Dean. "Your school isn't much anyway, I expect,
and I'm going to school in September, and I'll wear just the same things
as you do and--"

He wanted to comment upon the plain features of Ernest's sisters, but
his gentlemanly courtesy restrained him. He paused for breath, and
Ernest seized his advantage.

"You have to have an old aunt to look after you anyway--an ugly old
aunt. I wouldn't have an old aunt always hanging over me--'Now, Jeremy
dear--' 'Blow your nose, Jeremy dear--' 'Wipe your feet, Jeremy dear.'
Look at the things she wears and the way she walks. If I did have to
have an aunt always I'd have a decent one, not an old clothes bag."

What happened to Jeremy at the moment? Did he recollect that only a few
hours before he had been hating Aunt Amy with a fine frenzy of hatred?
For nearly a week he had been chafing under her restraint, combating her
commands, defying her orders. He had been seeing her as everything that
the Dean's Ernest had but now been calling her. Now he only saw her as
someone to be defended, someone who was his, someone even who depended
on him for support. He would have challenged a whole world of Deans in
her defence.

He said something, but no one could hear his words; then he sprang upon
the startled Ernest.

It was not a very distinguished combat; it was Jeremy's first battle,
and he knew at that time nothing of the science of fighting. The Dean's
Ernest, in spite of his term at school, also knew nothing--and the
Dean's Ernest was a coward...

It lasted but a short while, for Mary, after the first pause of
horrified amazement (aware only that Ernest was twice as big as her
Jeremy), ran to appeal to authority. Jeremy himself was aware neither of
time nor prudence. He realised immediately that Ernest was a coward, and
this realisation filled him with joy and happiness. He had seized Ernest
by his long yellow neck, and, with his other hand, he struck at eyes and
cheeks and nose. He did not secure much purchase for his blows because
their bodies were very close against one another, but he felt the soft
flesh yield and suddenly something wet against his hand which must, he
knew, be blood. And all the time he was thinking to himself: "I'll teach
him to say things about Aunt Amy! Aunt Amy's mine! I'll teach him! He
shan't touch Aunt Amy! He shan't touch Aunt Amy!..."

Ernest meanwhile kicked and kicked hard