Another look passed between the ladies, and Aunt March
said to Amy, “You are quite strong and well
now, dear, I believe? Eyes don’t trouble
you any more, do they?”
“Not at all, thank you, ma’am. I’m
very well, and mean to do great things next winter,
so that I may be ready for Rome, whenever that joyful
time arrives.”
“Good girl! You deserve to go, and I’m
sure you will some day,” said Aunt March, with
an approving pat on the head, as Amy picked up her
ball for her.
Crosspatch, draw the latch,
Sit by the fire and spin,
squalled Polly, bending down from his perch on the
back of her chair to peep into Jo’s face, with
such a comical air of impertinent inquiry that it
was impossible to help laughing.
“Most observing bird,” said the old lady.
“Come and take a walk, my dear?” cried
Polly, hopping toward the china closet, with a look
suggestive of a lump of sugar.
“Thank you, I will. Come Amy.” and
Jo brought the visit to an end, feeling more strongly
than ever that calls did have a bad effect upon her
constitution. She shook hands in a gentlemanly
manner, but Amy kissed both the aunts, and the girls
departed, leaving behind them the impression of shadow
and sunshine, which impression caused Aunt March to
say, as they vanished . . .
“You’d better do it, Mary. I’ll
supply the money.” and Aunt Carrol to reply
decidedly, “I certainly will, if her father and
mother consent.”
CONSEQUENCES
Mrs. Chester’s fair was so very elegant and
select that it was considered a great honor by the
young ladies of the neighborhood to be invited to
take a table, and everyone was much interested in the
matter. Amy was asked, but Jo was not, which
was fortunate for all parties, as her elbows were
decidedly akimbo at this period of her life, and it
took a good many hard knocks to teach her how to get
on easily. The ‘haughty, uninteresting
creature’ was let severely alone, but Amy’s
talent and taste were duly complimented by the offer
of the art table, and she exerted herself to prepare
and secure appropriate and valuable contributions
to it.
Everything went on smoothly till the day before the
fair opened, then there occurred one of the little
skirmishes which it is almost impossible to avoid,
when some five-and-twenty women, old and young, with
all their private piques and prejudices, try to work
together.
May Chester was rather jealous of Amy because the
latter was a greater favorite than herself, and just
at this time several trifling circumstances occurred
to increase the feeling. Amy’s dainty
pen-and-ink work entirely eclipsed May’s painted
vases—that was one thorn. Then the
all conquering Tudor had danced four times with Amy
at a late party and only once with May—that
was thorn number two. But the chief grievance
that rankled in her soul, and gave an excuse for her
