Chapter 15
Mrs. March and Jo were deep in their own affairs when a sound from Meg made them look up to see her staring at her note with a frightened face.
“My child, what is it?” cried her mother, running to her, while Jo tried to take paper which had done the mischief.
“It ‘s all a mistake—he didn’t send it—oh, Jo, how could you do it?” and Meg hid her face in her hands crying as if her heart was quite broken.
“Me! I’ve done nothing! What’s she talking about?” cried Jo, bewildered.
Meg’s mild eyes kindled with anger as she pulled a crumpled note from her pocket, and threw it at Jo, saying reproachfully—
“You wrote it and that bad boy helped you. How could you be so rude, so mean, and cruel to us both?”
Jo hardly heard her, for she and her mother were reading the note, which was written in a peculiar hand.
“My Dearest Margaret—I can no longer restrain my passion, and must know my fate before I return. I dare not tell you parents yet, but I think they would consent if they knew that we adored each other. Mr. Laurence will help me some good place, and then, my sweet girl you will make me happy. I implore you to say nothing to you family yet, but to send one word of hope through Laurie.
Your devoted John
“I received the first letter Laurie, who don’t look as if he knew anything about it,” began Meg, without looking up, “I was worried at first, and meant to tell; then, I remembered how you liked Mr. Brooke, so I thought you wouldn’t mind if I kept my little secret for a few days. Forgive me, mother; I’m paid for my silliness now. I never can look him in the face again.”
“What did you say to him?” asked Mrs. March.
“I only said I was too young to do anything about it yet; that I didn’t wish to have secrets from you, and he must speak to father. I was very grateful for his kindness and would be his friend, but nothing more, for a long while.”
Seeing that Meg’s usually gentle temper was roused, and her pride hurt by this mischievous joke, Mrs. March soothed her by promises of entire silence. The instant Laurie’s step was heard in the hall, Meg fled into the study, and Mrs. March received the culprit alone. Jo had not told him why he was wanted; but he knew the minute he saw Mrs. March’s face, and stood twirling his hat with a guilty air. Jo was dismissed, and chose to March up and down the hall like a sentinel, having some fear that the prisoner might bolt. The sound of voices in the parlour rose and fell for half an hour; but what happened during that interview the girls never knew.
When they were called in, Laurie was standing by their mother with such a penitent face that Jo forgave him on the spot. Meg received his apology, and was much comforted by the assurance that Brooke knew nothing of the joke.
Jo stood aloof, trying to harden her heart against him, and succeeding only in primming up her face into an expression of entire disapprobation. Laurie looked at her once or twice, but, as she showed no signs of relenting, he felt injured and turned his back on her till the others were done with him, when he made her a low bow, and walked off without a word.
As soon as he had gone Jo wished she had been more forgiving; and when Meg and her mother went upstairs, she felt lonely and longed for. After resisting for some time, she yielded to the impulse and went over the big house.
Jo pounded the door; the door flew open, and in she bounced before Laurie could recover from his surprise. Seeing that he really was out of temper, Jo assumed a contrite expression, and going down upon her knees, said meekly, “Please forgive me for being so cross. I came to make it up.”
“It’s all right; get up, and don’t be a goose, Jo,” was the cavalier reply to her petition.
“Thank you; I will. Could I ask what’s the matter is?”
“I’ve been shaken, and I won’t bear it!” growled Laurie indignantly.
“Who did it?” demanded Jo.
“Grandfather; if it had been anyone else I’d
have—” and the injured youth finished his sentence by an energetic gesture of the right arm.
“That’s nothing; I often shake you, and you don’t mind,” said Jo, soothingly.
“Pooh! you’re a girl; and it’s fun; but I’ll allow no man to shake me.”
“I don’t think anyone would care to try it, if you looked as much like a thunder-cloud as you do now. Why were you treated so?”
“Just because I wouldn’t say what your mother wanted me for. I’d promised not to tell, and of course I wasn’t going to break my word.”
“Couldn’t you satisfy your grandpa in any other way?”
“No; he would have the truth. I’d have told my part of the scrape, if I could without bringing Meg in. As I couldn’t, I held my tongue, and bore the scolding till the old gentleman collared me. Then I got angry, and bolted, for fear I should forget myself.”
“It wasn’t nice, but he’s sorry I know; so go down and make up. I’II help you.”
“Come in,” and Mr. Laurence’s gruff voice sounded gruffer than ever as Jo tapped his door.
“It’s only me, sir, come to return a book,” she said blandly as she entered.
“Want any more?” asked the old gentleman, looking grim and vexed, but trying not to show it.
“Yes, please; I like old Sam so well I think I’ll try the second volume,” returned Jo, hoping to propitiate him by accepting a second dose of Boswell’s Johnson, as he had recommended that lively work.
What has that boy been about? I know he has been in mischief; by the way he acted when he came home. I can’t get a word from him; and when I threatened to shake the truth out of him, he bolted upstairs and locked himself in his room.”
“That won’t do; he shall not shelter himself behind a promise from you soft-hearted girls. If he’s done anything amiss, shall confess, beg pardon, and be punished. Out with it, Jo!”
Mr. Laurence’s ruddy face changed suddenly and he sat down with a troubled glance at the picture of a handsome man which hung over his table. It was Laurie’s father, who had run away in his youth, and married against the imperious old man’s will.
“He won’t do it unless he is very much worried, and only threatens it sometimes, when he gets tired of studying. I often think I should like to, especially since my hair was cut; so, if you ever miss us, you may advertise for two boys, and look among the ships bound for India.”
She laughed as she spoke, and Mr. Laurence looked relieved, evidently taking the whole as a joke.
Mr. Laurence gave her a sharp look, and put on his spectacles, saying slowly, “You’re a sly puss! But I don’t mind being managed by you and Beth. Here, give me a bit of paper, and let us have done with this nonsense.”
The note was written in the terms which one gentleman would use to another after offering some deep insult. Jo dropped a kiss on the top of Mr. Laurence’ bald head and ran up to slip the apology under Laurie’s door, advising him, through the key-hole, to be submissive, decorous, and a few other agreeable possibilities. Finding the door locked again, she left the note to do its work, and was going quietly away, when the young gentleman, slid down the banisters, and waited for her at the bottom saying, “What a good fellow you are Jo! Did you get blown up?”
“No; he was pretty mild, on the whole.”
