LITTLE WOMEN CHAPTER 22 and 23

They drank healths, told stories, sang songs,
`reminisced', as the old folks say, and had a thoroughly good time.

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.

James Laurence is a crotchety old
fellow and not to be depended on.

I came to get my umbrella, that is, to see
how your father finds himself today," said Mr. Brooke, getting a
trifle confused as his eyes went from one telltale face to the other.

You are a willful
child, and you've lost more than you know by this piece of folly.

"Just a year ago we were groaning over the dismal Christmas we
expected to have.

Everything turned out well, which was
a mercy, Hannah said, "For my mind was that flustered, Mum, that
it's a merrycle I didn't roast the pudding, and stuff the turkey
with raisins, let alone bilin' of it in a cloth."

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.

Mr. Laurence and his grandson dined with them, also Mr.
Brooke, at whom Jo glowered darkly, to Laurie's infinite amusement.

This nettled her.

"How can I be otherwise?" said Mrs. March gratefully, as her
eyes went from her husband's letter to Beth's smiling face, and
her hand carressed the brooch made of gray and golden, chestnut
and dark brown hair, which the girls had just fastened on her
breast.

As the laugh subsided, Mrs. March began
to thank Mr. Brooke for his faithful care of her husband, at which
Mr. Brooke suddenly remembered that Mr. March needed rest, and
seizing Laurie, he precipitately retired.

Of course there was a general stampede,
and for several minutes everybody seemed to lose their wits, for
the strangest things were done, and no one said a word.

Mr. and Mrs. March looked at one another
with an anxious expression, as their eyes followed Meg. Jo
had sudden fits of sobriety, and was seen to shake her fist at
Mr. Brooke's umbrella, which had been left in the hall.

"Please
don't plague me, Jo, I've told you I don't care much about him, and
there isn't to be anything said, but we are all to be friendly, and
go on as before."

If Meg had wanted a reward for hours of patient labor, she
received it in the hearty pressure of her father's hand and the
approving smile he gave her.

She felt excited and
strange, and not knowing what else to do, followed a
capricious impulse, and, withdrawing her hands, said petulantly,
"I don't choose.

Now Aunt March possessed in perfection the art of rousing
the spirit of opposition in the gentlest people, and enjoyed
doing it.

Going in to exult over
a fallen enemy and to praise a strong-minded sister for the
banishment of an objectionable lover, it certainly was a shock
to behold the aforesaid enemy serenely sitting on the sofa, with the
strongminded sister enthroned upon his knee and wearing an expression of
the most abject submission.

Going in to exult over
a fallen enemy and to praise a strong-minded sister for the
banishment of an objectionable lover, it certainly was a shock
to behold the aforesaid enemy serenely sitting on the sofa, with the
strongminded sister enthroned upon his knee and wearing an expression of
the most abject submission.

Her once active limbs were so stiff
and feeble that Jo took her for a daily airing about the house
in her strong arms.

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.

"I thought you were going to tell your speech to that man,"
said Jo, rudely shortening her sister's little reverie.

So, sitting at the dear little piano, Beth softly touched the
keys, and in the sweet voice they had never thought to hear again,
sang to her own accompaniment the quaint hymn, which was a
singularly fitting song for her.

I'm
not afraid of being poor, for I've been happy so far, and I know I
shall be with him because he loves me, and I..."

Meg stopped there, remembering all of a sudden that she hadn't
made up her mind, that she had told `her John' to go away, and that
he might be overhearing her inconsistent remarks.

Wouldn't that console you?"

Laurie went by in the afternoon, and seeing Meg at the window,
seemed suddenly possessed with a melodramatic fit, for he fell
down on one knee in the snow, beat his breast, tore his hair,
and clasped his hands imploringly, as if begging some boon.

Meg jumped up, looking both
proud and shy, but `that man', as Jo called him, actually laughed
and said coolly, as he kissed the astonished newcomer, "Sister Jo,
congratulate us!"

I'm proud to shake this
good, industrious little hand, and hope I shall not soon be
asked to give it away."

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.

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.

"I shall marry whom I please, Aunt March, and you can
leave your money to anyone you like," she said, nodding her
head with a resolute air.

But Jo was mistaken, for Laurie came prancing in, overflowing
with good spirits, bearing a great bridal-looking bouquet for `Mrs.
John Brooke', and evidently laboring under the delusion that the
whole affair had been brought about by his excellent management.

Jo couldn't help smiling at the important air which Meg had
unconsciously assumed and which was as becoming as the pretty
color varying in her cheeks.

Jo blundered into a wrong message in one of your
Father's letters, and I made her tell me.

May nothing you dismay,
But health and peace and happiness
Be yours, this Christmas day.

His tone was properly beseeching, but stealing a shy look
at him, Meg saw that his eyes were merry as well as tender, and
that he wore the satisfied smile of one who had no doubt of his
success.

Like bees swarming after their queen, mother and daughters
hovered about Mr. March the next day, neglecting everything to
look at, wait upon, and listen to the new invalid, who was in a
fair way to be killed by kindness.

"I've got so much to learn before I shall be ready, it seems
a short time to me," answered Meg, with a sweet gravity in her face
never seen there before.

Nobody ever knew what went on in the parlor that afternoon, but
a great deal of talking was done, and quiet Mr. Brooke astonished his
friends by the eloquence and spirit with which he pleaded his suit,
told his plans, and persuaded them to arrange everything just as he
wanted it.

"Of course I am!" cried Meg, smoothing the silvery folds of
her first sild dress, for Mr. Laurence had insisted on giving it.

Inclination as well as perversity made the decision
easy, and being already much excited, Meg opposed the old lady
with unusual spirit.

I also
observe that she does not fret much nor look in the glass, and has
not even mentioned a very pretty ring which she wears, so I
conclude that she has learned to think of other people more and of
herself less, and has decided to try and mold her character as
carefully as she molds her little clay figures.

That was adding insult to injury, it was altogether too much,
and making some wild demonstration with her hands, Jo vanished
without a word.

Nobody ever knew what went on in the parlor that afternoon, but
a great deal of talking was done, and quiet Mr. Brooke astonished his
friends by the eloquence and spirit with which he pleaded his suit,
told his plans, and persuaded them to arrange everything just as he
wanted it.

"It can't be a worse one than some people find in big
houses," retorted Meg.

Aunt March put on her glasses and took a look at the girl,
for she did not know her in this new mood.

"You
can't know how hard it is for me to give up Meg," she continued
with a little quiver in her voice.

He might just as well
have turned a somersault and uttered an Indian war whoop, for his
face was so full of suppressed excitement and his voice so
treacherously joyful that everyone jumped up, though he only said,
in a queer, breathless voice, "Here's another Christmas present
for the March family."

Amy was very much impressed by John's devotion and Meg's dignity, Beth
beamed at them from a distance, while Mr. and Mrs. March surveyed the
young couple with such tender satisfaction that it was perfectly
evident Aunt March was right in calling them as `unworldly as a pair
of babies'.

Jo smothered a laugh
at the sudden change, and when someone gave a modest tap, opened
the door with a grim aspect which was anything but hospitable.

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.

Mr. and Mrs. March left the room with speed, and casting herself
upon the be, Jo cried and scolded tempestuously as she told the awful
news to Beth and Amy. The little girls, however, considered it a
most agreeable and interesting event, and Jo got little comfort from
them, so she went up to her refuge in the garret, and confided her
troubles to the rats.

"Don't say my John, it isn't proper or true," but Meg's voice
lingered over the words as if they sounded pleasant to her.

Mr. Laurence and his grandson dined with them, also Mr.
Brooke, at whom Jo glowered darkly, to Laurie's infinite amusement.