“That’s a ‘label’ on my ’sect’,”
answered Laurie, quoting Amy, as he went to partake
of humble pie dutifully with his grandfather, who
was quite saintly in temper and overwhelmingly respectful
in manner all the rest of the day.
Everyone thought the matter ended and the little cloud
blown over, but the mischief was done, for though others
forgot it, Meg remembered. She never alluded
to a certain person, but she thought of him a good
deal, dreamed dreams more than ever, and once Jo,
rummaging her sister’s desk for stamps, found
a bit of paper scribbled over with the words, ‘Mrs.
John Brooke’, whereat she groaned tragically
and cast it into the fire, feeling that Laurie’s
prank had hastened the evil day for her.
PLEASANT MEADOWS
Like sunshine after a storm were the peaceful weeks
which followed. The invalids improved rapidly,
and Mr. March began to talk of returning early in
the new year. Beth was soon able to lie on the
study sofa all day, amusing herself with the well-beloved
cats at first, and in time with doll’s sewing,
which had fallen sadly behind-hand. Her once
active limbs were so stiff and feeble that Jo took
her for a daily airing about the house in her strong
arms. Meg cheerfully blackened and burned her
white hands cooking delicate messes for ‘the
dear’, while Amy, a loyal slave of the ring,
celebrated her return by giving away as many of her
treasures as she could prevail on her sisters to accept.
As Christmas approached, the usual mysteries began
to haunt the house, and Jo frequently convulsed the
family by proposing utterly impossible or magnificently
absurd ceremonies, in honor of this unusually merry
Christmas. Laurie was equally impracticable,
and would have had bonfires, skyrockets, and triumphal
arches, if he had had his own way. After many
skirmishes and snubbings, the ambitious pair were
considered effectually quenched and went about with
forlorn faces, which were rather belied by explosions
of laughter when the two got together.
Several days of unusually mild weather fitly ushered
in a splendid Christmas Day. Hannah ‘felt
in her bones’ that it was going to be an unusually
fine day, and she proved herself a true prophetess,
for everybody and everything seemed bound to produce
a grand success. To begin with, Mr. March wrote
that he should soon be with them, then Beth felt uncommonly
well that morning, and, being dressed in her mother’s
gift, a soft crimson merino wrapper, was borne in
high triumph to the window to behold the offering
of Jo and Laurie. The Unquenchables had done
their best to be worthy of the name, for like elves
they had worked by night and conjured up a comical
surprise. Out in the garden stood a stately
snow maiden, crowned with holly, bearing a basket
of fruit and flowers in one hand, a great roll of
music in the other, a perfect rainbow of an Afghan
round her chilly shoulders, and a Christmas carol
issuing from her lips on a pink paper streamer.
