JO MEETS APOLLYON
“Girls, where are you going?” asked Amy,
coming into their room one Saturday afternoon, and
finding them getting ready to go out with an air of
secrecy which excited her curiosity.
“Never mind. Little girls shouldn’t
ask questions,” returned Jo sharply.
Now if there is anything mortifying to our feelings
when we are young, it is to be told that, and to be
bidden to “run away, dear” is still more
trying to us. Amy bridled up at this insult,
and determined to find out the secret, if she teased
for an hour. Turning to Meg, who never refused
her anything very long, she said coaxingly, “Do
tell me! I should think you might let me go, too,
for Beth is fussing over her piano, and I haven’t
got anything to do, and am so lonely.”
“I can’t, dear, because you aren’t
invited,” began Meg, but Jo broke in impatiently,
“Now, Meg, be quiet or you will spoil it all.
You can’t go, Amy, so don’t be a baby
and whine about it.”
“You are going somewhere with Laurie, I know
you are. You were whispering and laughing together
on the sofa last night, and you stopped when I came
in. Aren’t you going with him?”
“Yes, we are. Now do be still, and stop
bothering.”
Amy held her tongue, but used her eyes, and saw Meg
slip a fan into her pocket.
“I know! I know! You’re going
to the theater to see the Seven Castles!”
she cried, adding resolutely, “and I shall go,
for Mother said I might see it, and I’ve got
my rag money, and it was mean not to tell me in time.”
“Just listen to me a minute, and be a good child,”
said Meg soothingly. “Mother doesn’t
wish you to go this week, because your eyes are not
well enough yet to bear the light of this fairy piece.
Next week you can go with Beth and Hannah, and have
a nice time.”
“I don’t like that half as well as going
with you and Laurie. Please let me. I’ve
been sick with this cold so long, and shut up, I’m
dying for some fun. Do, Meg! I’ll
be ever so good,” pleaded Amy, looking as pathetic
as she could.
“Suppose we take her. I don’t believe
Mother would mind, if we bundle her up well,”
began Meg.
“If she goes I shan’t, and if I don’t,
Laurie won’t like it, and it will be very rude,
after he invited only us, to go and drag in Amy.
I should think she’d hate to poke herself where
she isn’t wanted,” said Jo crossly, for
she disliked the trouble of overseeing a fidgety child
when she wanted to enjoy herself.
Her tone and manner angered Amy, who began to put
her boots on, saying, in her most aggravating way,
“I shall go. Meg says I may, and if I
pay for myself, Laurie hasn’t anything to do
with it.”
“You can’t sit with us, for our seats
are reserved, and you mustn’t sit alone, so
Laurie will give you his place, and that will spoil
our pleasure. Or he’ll get another seat
for you, and that isn’t proper when you weren’t
asked. You shan’t stir a step, so you
may just stay where you are,” scolded Jo, crosser
than ever, having just pricked her finger in her hurry.
