"Do you fear about me, Jo?"
"A little, when you look moody and discontented, as you every so often do, for you have this kind of strong will, if you as soon as get commenced incorrect, I'm afraid it might be hard to prevent you."
Laurie walked in silence a few minutes, and Jo watched him, wishing she had held her tongue, for his eyes regarded angry, even though his lips smiled as though at her warnings.
"Are you going to supply lectures all the way domestic?" he requested presently.
"Of direction now not. Why?"
"Because in case you are, I'll take a bus. If you are no longer, I'd like to walk with you and inform you some thing very interesting."
"I may not hold forth any extra, and I'd want to hear the information immensely."
"Very properly, then, come on. It's a secret, and if I inform you, you need to inform me yours."
"I have not got any," commenced Jo, but stopped suddenly, remembering that she had.
"You recognize you have—you cannot cover something, so up and 'fess, or I won't inform," cried Laurie.
"Is your mystery a nice one?"
"Oh, isn't always it! All about human beings you realize, and such amusing! You have to pay attention it, and I've been aching to tell it this long term. Come, you start."
"You'll now not say whatever approximately it at domestic, will you?"
"Not a word."
"And you might not tease me in private?"
"I by no means tease."
"Yes, you do. You get the whole lot you want out of humans. I do not know how you do it, however you're a born wheedler."
"Thank you. Fire away."
"Well, I've left two testimonies with a newspaperman, and he's to offer his solution subsequent week," whispered Jo, in her confidant's ear.
"Hurrah for Miss March, the distinguished American authoress!" cried Laurie, throwing up his hat and catching it again, to the great pleasure of geese, 4 cats, five hens, and half a dozen Irish kids, for they were out of the town now.
"Hush! It won't come to something, I dare say, however I could not rest till I had attempted, and I said nothing approximately it because I did not need all people else to be disenchanted."
"It might not fail. Why, Jo, your memories are works of Shakespeare compared to half the rubbish that is posted each day. Won't or not it's fun to look them in print, and shan't we feel happy with our authoress?"
Jo's eyes sparkled, for it is usually satisfactory to be believed in, and a friend's reward is usually sweeter than a dozen newspaper puffs.
"Where's your mystery? Play honest, Teddy, or I'll never consider you again," she said, looking to extinguish the remarkable hopes that blazed up at a word of encouragement.
"I may get into a scrape for telling, however I did not promise no longer to, so I will, for I never experience clean in my mind till I've informed you any plummy bit of news I get. I recognise in which Meg's glove is."
"Is that every one?" stated Jo, looking disenchanted, as Laurie nodded and twinkled with a face complete of mysterious intelligence.
"It's pretty enough for the prevailing, as you will agree when I tell you in which it is."
"Tell, then."
Laurie bent, and whispered 3 words in Jo's ear, which produced a comical exchange. She stood and stared at him for a minute, searching both amazed and displeased, then walked on, pronouncing sharply, "How do you realize?"
"Saw it."
"Where?"
"Pocket."
"All this time?"
"Yes, is not that romantic?"
"No, it is horrid."
"Don't you like it?"
"Of direction I do not. It's ridiculous, it might not be allowed. My staying power! What might Meg say?"
"You aren't to inform anybody. Mind that."
"I failed to promise."
"That become understood, and I depended on you."
"Well, I might not for the existing, anyway, however I'm disgusted, and wish you hadn't told me."
"I thought you'll be thrilled."
"At the concept of every person coming to take Meg away? No, thank you."
"You'll feel higher about it whilst somebody involves take you away."
"I'd want to see absolutely everyone attempt it," cried Jo fiercely.
"So have to I!" and Laurie chuckled on the idea.
"I do not assume secrets trust me, I experience rumpled up in my thoughts because you told me that," said Jo alternatively ungratefully.
"Race down this hill with me, and you will be all proper," counseled Laurie.
No one became in sight, the clean street sloped invitingly earlier than her, and finding the temptation impossible to resist, Jo darted away, quickly leaving hat and comb behind her and scattering hairpins as she ran. Laurie reached the aim first and became quite satisfied with the success of his remedy, for his Atlanta got here panting up with flying hair, vibrant eyes, ruddy cheeks, and no signs and symptoms of dissatisfaction in her face.
"I wish I was a horse, then I ought to run for miles in this excellent air, and now not lose my breath. It changed into capital, however see what a guy it's made me. Go, pick up my matters, like a cherub, as you are," said Jo, dropping down beneath a maple tree, which become carpeting the financial institution with pink leaves.
Laurie leisurely departed to get better the lost assets, and Jo bundled up her braids, hoping no one might pass by using until she was tidy again. But a person did bypass, and who ought to or not it's but Meg, looking in particular ladylike in her nation and competition match, for she have been making calls.
"What inside the world are you doing right here?" she asked, regarding her matted sister with properly-bred marvel.
"Getting leaves," meekly answered Jo, sorting the rosy handful she had just swept up.
"And hairpins," introduced Laurie, throwing half of a dozen into Jo's lap. "They grow on this avenue, Meg, so do combs and brown straw hats."
"You have been running, Jo. How may want to you? When will you prevent such romping approaches?" stated Meg reprovingly, as she settled her cuffs and smoothed her hair, with which the wind had taken liberties.
"Never till I'm stiff and antique and should use a crutch. Don't attempt to make me grow up before my time, Meg. It's hard enough to have you ever alternate all of a sudden. Let me be a little lady so long as I can."
As she spoke, Jo bent over the leaves to cover the trembling of her lips, for recently she had felt that Margaret became fast getting to be a lady, and Laurie's mystery made her dread the separation which have to really come a while and now regarded very close to. He saw the trouble in her face and drew Meg's attention from it with the aid of asking quick, "Where have you been calling, all so fine?"
"At the Gardiners', and Sallie has been telling me all about Belle Moffat's wedding ceremony. It turned into very great, and that they have long past to spend the iciness in Paris. Just think how pleasant that should be!"
"Do you envy her, Meg?" stated Laurie.
"I'm afraid I do."
"I'm happy of it!" muttered Jo, tying on her hat with a jerk.
"Why?" asked Meg, looking surprised.
"Because in case you care a great deal approximately riches, you'll never go and marry a terrible man," said Jo, frowning at Laurie, who changed into mutely caution her to mind what she said.
"I shall in no way 'go and marry' all people," observed Meg, walking on with exquisite dignity while the others followed, laughing, whispering, skipping stones, and 'behaving like kids', as Meg said to herself, though she could have been tempted to join them if she had no longer had her best get dressed on.
For every week or , Jo behaved so queerly that her sisters had been quite bewildered. She rushed to the door whilst the postman rang, turned into impolite to Mr. Brooke on every occasion they met, might sit down looking at Meg with a woe-begone face, every now and then leaping as much as shake and then kiss her in a very mysterious manner. Laurie and she have been usually making signs and
symptoms to one another, and talking about 'Spread Eagles' till the girls declared they'd both misplaced their wits. On the second Saturday after Jo got out of the window, Meg, as she sat sewing at her window, was scandalized via the sight of Laurie chasing Jo all over the garden and eventually shooting her in Amy's bower. What went on there, Meg could not see, however shrieks of laughter had been heard, accompanied through the murmur of voices and a extremely good flapping of newspapers.
"What shall we do with that female? She by no means will behave like a young lady," sighed Meg, as she watched the race with a disapproving face.
"I wish she may not. She is so funny and expensive as she is," said Beth, who had by no means betrayed that she changed into a little hurt at Jo's having secrets and techniques with anyone but her.
"It's very attempting, but we by no means can make her commy l. A. Fo," brought Amy, who sat making some new frills for herself, together with her curls tied up in a totally becoming manner, two agreeable matters that made her experience unusually elegant and ladylike.
In a few minutes Jo bounced in, laid herself on the sofa, and affected to study.
"Have you whatever exciting there?" asked Meg, with condescension.
"Nothing however a story, may not quantity to much, I wager," lower back Jo, cautiously retaining the name of the paper out of sight.
"You'd higher study it aloud. That will amuse us and hold you out of mischief," said Amy in her maximum grown-up tone.
"What's the call?" asked Beth, wondering why Jo stored her face behind the sheet.
"The Rival Painters."
"That sounds well. Read it," stated Meg.
With a noisy "Hem!" and a long breath, Jo began to examine very fast. The girls listened with interest, for the story became romantic, and relatively pathetic, as most of the characters died ultimately. "I like that approximately the splendid picture," was Amy's approving commentary, as Jo paused.
"I opt for the lovering element. Viola and Angelo are of our favourite names, is not that queer?" stated Meg, wiping her eyes, for the lovering part became tragical.
"Who wrote it?" requested Beth, who had stuck a glimpse of Jo's face.
The reader unexpectedly sat up, forged away the paper, displaying a flushed countenance, and with a humorous aggregate of solemnity and pleasure replied in a noisy voice, "Your sister."
"You?" cried Meg, dropping her work.
"It's very good," stated Amy severely.
"I knew it! I knew it! Oh, my Jo, I am so proud!" and Beth ran to hug her sister and exult over this brilliant achievement.
Dear me, how overjoyed all of them had been, to make sure! How Meg would not accept as true with it till she saw the phrases. "Miss Josephine March," honestly published in the paper. How graciously Amy criticized the creative components of the tale, and supplied suggestions for a sequel, which unfortunately could not be performed, as the hero and heroine had been dead. How Beth were given excited, and skipped and sang with joy. How Hannah got here in to exclaim, "Sakes alive, properly I in no way!" in outstanding astonishment at 'that Jo's doin's'. How proud Mrs. March changed into when she knew it. How Jo laughed, with tears in her eyes, as she declared she may as properly be a peacock and achieved with it, and the way the 'Spread Eagle' is probably said to flap his wings triumphantly over the House of March, because the paper exceeded from hand at hand.
"Tell us approximately it." "When did it come?" "How a great deal did you get for it?" "What will Father say?" "Won't Laurie snort?" cried the own family, multi function breath as they clustered about Jo, for those foolish, affectionate humans made a jubilee of every little family joy.
"Stop jabbering, girls, and I'll inform you the whole lot," stated Jo, wondering if Miss Burney felt any grander over her Evelina than she did over her 'Rival Painters'. Having advised how she disposed of her tales, Jo delivered, "And when I went to get my solution, the man stated he preferred them each, but did not pay novices, simplest allow them to print in his paper, and observed the tales. It changed into proper practice, he said, and while the beginners advanced, all people could pay. So I let him have the 2 testimonies, and today this changed into sent to me, and Laurie stuck me with it and insisted on seeing it, so I let him. And he said it became properly, and I shall write more, and he's going to get the next paid for, and I am so satisfied, for in time I can be capable of guide myself and help the ladies."
Jo's breath gave out right here, and wrapping her head inside the paper, she bedewed her little story with a few natural tears, for to be unbiased and earn the praise of these she cherished have been the dearest needs of her heart, and this appeared to be the first step in the direction of that happy end.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A TELEGRAM
"November is the most unpleasant month within the complete yr," said Margaret, status on the window one stupid afternoon, searching out at the frostbitten lawn.
"That's the purpose I became born in it," discovered Jo pensively, quite unconscious of the blot on her nostril.
"If some thing very exceptional must appear now, we have to suppose it a satisfying month," said Beth, who took a hopeful view of the whole thing, even November.
"I dare say, however not anything quality ever does manifest in this family," stated Meg, who became out of types. "We pass grubbing alongside daily, without a piece of exchange, and very little a laugh. We might as nicely be in a treadmill."
"My staying power, how blue we're!" cried Jo. "I do not a great deal marvel, terrible expensive, for you notice other women having first rate instances, whilst you grind, grind, 12 months in and 12 months out. Oh, don't I wish I should manipulate matters for you as I do for my heroines! You're quite sufficient and suitable enough already, so I'd have a few rich relation leave you a fortune all of sudden. Then you would dash out as an heiress, scorn every person who has slighted you, cross abroad, and come home my Lady Something in a blaze of splendor and beauty."
"People don't have fortunes left them in that fashion these days, guys need to work and girls marry for cash. It's a dreadfully unjust global," stated Meg bitterly.
"Jo and I are going to make fortunes for you all. Just wait ten years, and see if we don't," said Amy, who sat in a nook making mud pies, as Hannah called her little clay fashions of birds, fruit, and faces.
"Can't wait, and I'm afraid I haven't a lot faith in ink and dust, although I'm thankful to your suitable intentions."
Meg sighed, and grew to become to the frostbitten garden once more. Jo groaned and leaned both elbows on the table in a despondent mind-set, but Amy spatted away energetically, and Beth, who sat at the opposite window, stated, smiling, "Two best matters are going to occur right away. Marmee is coming down the road, and Laurie is tramping via the lawn as though he had some thing exceptional to tell."
In they both came, Mrs. March with her ordinary question, "Any letter from Father, girls?" and Laurie to say in his persuasive manner, "Won't some of you return for a drive? I've been operating away at mathematics until my head is in a clutter, and I'm going to freshen my wits with the aid of a brisk turn. It's a dull day, however the air isn't always awful, and I'm going to take Brooke home, so it'll be homosexual inside, if it isn't always out. Come, Jo, you and Beth will cross, might not you?"
"Of direction we are able to."
"Much obliged, however I'm busy." And Meg whisked out her workbasket, for she had agreed with her mom that it changed into high-quality, for her as a minimum, not to drive too often with the young gentleman.
"We 3 might be equipped in a minute," cried Amy, running away to clean her arms.
"Can I do anything for you, Madam Mother?" asked Laurie, leaning over Mrs. March's chair with the affectionate look and tone he usually gave her.
"No, thanks, except name at the workplace, if you'll be so kind, dear. It's our day for a letter, and the postman hasn't been. Father is as regular as the sun, but there may be a few postpone at the manner, perhaps."
A sharp ring interrupted her, and a m
inute after Hannah got here in with a letter.
"It's considered one of them horrid telegraph matters, mum," she stated, managing it as if she turned into afraid it might explode and do some damage.
At the phrase 'telegraph', Mrs. March snatched it, examine the two traces it contained, and dropped returned into her chair as white as if the little paper had sent a bullet to her heart. Laurie dashed downstairs for water, even as Meg and Hannah supported her, and Jo examine aloud, in a anxious voice...
Mrs. March:
Your husband could be very ill. Come right away.
S. HALE
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