Now, look here, Mopsy Maynard, don't you let that old crosspatch be Queen!" "I can't, unless we all elect her," returned Midget, smiling at Tom; "but I wish you would agree to do that.

It isn't fair, Tom, for me to be Queen all the time." "Why isn't it?
It's your Club! You got it up, and Hester came and poked herself in where she wasn't wanted." "Well, we took her in, and now we ought to be kind to her." "Kind to such an old Meany as she is!" "Don't call her names, Tom.

I don't believe she can help flying into a temper, and then, when she gets mad, she doesn't care what she says." "I should think she didn't! Well, make her Queen if you want to, but if you do, you can get somebody else to take my place." "Oh, Tom, don't act like that," and Marjorie looked at him, with pleading eyes.
"Yes, I _will act_ like that! Just exactly like that! I won't belong to any Court that Hester Corey is queen of!" Marjorie sighed.

What _could_ she do with this intractable boy?
And, she almost knew that King would feel the same way.

Perhaps, if she could win Tom over to her way of thinking, King might be more easily influenced.
"Tom," she began, "don't you like me ?" "Yes, I do.