Jo's face was a study next day, for the secret rather weighedupon her, and she found it hard not to look mysterious andimportant. Meg observed it, but did not trouble herself to makeinquiries, for she had learned that the best way to manage Jo wasby the law of contraries, so she felt sure of being told everythingif she did not ask. She was rather surprised, therefore,when the silence remained unbroken, and Jo assumed a patronizingair, which decidedly aggravated Meg, who in turn assumed an airof dignified reserve and devoted herself to her mother. This leftJo to her own devices, for Mrs. March had taken her place as nurse,and bade her rest, exercise, and amuse herself after her longconfinement. Amy being gone, Laurie was her only refuge, and muchas she enjoyed his society, she rather dreaded him just then, forhe was an incorrigible tease, and she feared he would coax thesecret from her.

She was quite right, for the mischief-loving lad no soonersuspected a mystery than he set himself to find it out, and ledJo a trying life of it. He wheedled, bribed, ridiculed,threatened, and scolded; affected indifference, that he might surprisethe truth from her; declared he knew, then that he didn't care;and at last, by dint of perseverance, he satisfied himself thatit concerned Meg and Mr. Brooke. Feeling indignant that he wasnot taken into his tutor's confidence, he set his wits to workto devise some proper retaliation for the slight.

Meg meanwhile had apparently forgotten the matter and wasabsorbed in preparations for her father's return, but all of asudden a change seemed to come over her, and, for a day or two,she was quite unlike herself. She started when spoken to,blushed when looked at, was very quiet, and sat over her sewing,with a timid, troubled look on her face. To her mother's inquiriesshe answered that she was quite well, and Jo's she silenced bybegging to be let alone.

"She feels it in the air - love, I mean - and she's going veryfast. She's got most of the symptoms - is twittery and cross,doesn't eat, lies awake, and mopes in corners. I caught hersinging that song he gave her, and once she said 'John', as youdo, and then turned as red as a poppy. Whatever shall we do?"said Jo, looking ready for any measures, however violent.

"Nothing but wait. Let her alone, be kind and patient, andFather's coming will settle everything," replied her mother.

"Here's a note to you, Meg, all sealed up. How odd! Teddynever seals mine," said Jo next day, as she distributed thecontents of the little post office.

Mrs. March and Jo were deep in their own affairs, when asound from Meg made them look up to see her staring at hernote with a frightened face.

"My child, what is it?" cried her mother, running to her,while Jo tried to take the paper which had done the mischief.

"It's all a mistake, he didn't send it. Oh, Jo, how couldyou do it?" and Meg hid her face in her hands, crying as if herheart were quite broken.

"Me! I've done nothing! What's she talking about?" criedJo, bewildered.

Meg's mild eyes kindled with anger as she pulled a crumplednote from her pocket and threw it at Jo, saying reproachfully,"You wrote it, and that bad boy helped you. How could you beso rude, so mean, and cruel to us both?"

Jo hardly heard her, for she and her mother were reading thenote, which was written in a peculiar hand.

"My Dearest Margaret,

"I can no longer restrain my passion, and must know my fatebefore I return. I dare not tell your parents yet, but I thinkthey would consent if they knew that we adored one another. Mr.Laurence will help me to some good place, and then, my sweetgirl, you will make me happy. I implore you to say nothing toyour family yet, but to send one word of hope through Laurie to,

"Your devoted John."

"Oh, the little villain! That's the way he meant to pay mefor keeping my word to Mother. I'll give him a hearty scoldingand bring him over to beg pardon," cried Jo, burning to executeimmediate justice. But her mother held her back, saying, witha look she seldom wore . . .

"Stop, Jo, you must clear yourself first. You have playedso many pranks that I am afraid you have had a hand in this."

"On my word, Mother, I haven't! I never saw that notebefore, and don't know anything about it, as true as I live!"said Jo, so earnestly that they believed her. "If I had takenpart in it I'd have done it better than this, and have writtena sensible note. I should think you'd have known Mr. Brookewouldn't write such stuff as that," she added, scornfullytossing down the paper.

"It's like his writing," faltered Meg, comparing it with thenote in her hand.

"Oh, Meg, you didn't answer it?" cried Mrs. March quickly.

"Yes, I did!" and Meg hid her face again, overcome with shame.

"Here's a scrape! Do let me bring that wicked boy over toexplain and be lectured. I can't rest till I get hold of him."And Jo made for the door again.

"Hush! Let me handle this, for it is worse than I thought.Margaret, tell me the whole story," commanded Mrs. March, sittingdown by Meg, yet keeping hold of Jo, lest she should fly off.

"I received the first letter from Laurie, who didn't lookas if he knew anything about it," began Meg, without looking up."I was worried at first and meant to tell you, then I rememberedhow you liked Mr. Brooke, so I thought you wouldn't mind if Ikept my little secret for a few days. I'm so silly that I likedto think no one knew, and while I was deciding what to say, Ifelt like the girls in books, who have such things to do. Forgiveme, Mother, I'm paid for my silliness now. I never can look himin 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 speakto father. I was very grateful for his kindness, and would behis friend, but nothing more, for a long while."

Mrs. March smiled, as if well pleased, and Jo clapped herhands, exclaiming, with a laugh, "You are almost equal toCaroline Percy, who was a pattern of prudence! Tell on, Meg.What did he say to that?"

"He writes in a different way entirely, telling me that henever sent any love letter at all, and is very sorry that myroguish sister, Jo, should take liberties with our names. It'svery kind and respectful, but think how dreadful for me!"

Meg leaned against her mother, looking the image of despair,and Jo tramped about the room, calling Laurie names. All of asudden she stopped, caught up the two notes, and after lookingat them closely, said decidedly, "I don't believe Brooke eversaw either of these letters. Teddy wrote both, and keeps yoursto crow over me with because I wouldn't tell him my secret."

"Don't have any secrets, Jo. Tell it to Mother and keepout of trouble, as I should have done," said Meg warningly.

"Bless you, child! Mother told me."

"That will do, Jo. I'll comfort Meg while you go and getLaurie. I shall sift the matter to the bottom, and put a stopto such pranks at once."

Away ran Jo, and Mrs. March gently told Meg Mr. Brooke'sreal feelings. "Now, dear, what are your own? Do you love himenough to wait till he can make a home for you, or will youkeep yourself quite free for the present?"

"I've been so scared and worried, I don't want to haveanything to do with lovers for a long while, perhaps never,"answered Meg petulantly. "If John doesn't know anything aboutthis nonsense, don't tell him, and make Jo and Laurie hold theirtongues. I won't be deceived and plagued and made a fool of.It's a shame!"

Seeing Meg's usually gentle temper was roused and herpride hurt by this mischievous joke, Mrs. March soothed herby promises of entire silence and great discretion for thefuture. The instant Laurie's step was heard in the hall, Megfled into the study, and Mrs. March received the culprit alone.Jo had not told him why he was wanted, fearing he wouldn't come,but he knew the minute he saw Mrs. March's face, and stoodtwirling his hat with a guilty air which convicted him at once.Jo was dismissed, but chose to march up and down the hall likea sentinel, having some fear that the prisoner might bolt. Thesound of voices in the parlor 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 theirmother with such a penitent face that Jo forgave him on thespot, but did not think it wise to betray the fact. Meg receivedhis humble apology, and was much comforted by the assurance thatBrooke knew nothing of the joke.

"I'll never tell him to my dying day, wild horses shan'tdrag it out of me, so you'll forgive me, Meg, and I'll doanything to show how out-and-out sorry I am," he added,looking very much ashamed of himself.

"I'll try, but it was a very ungentlemanly thing to do, Ididn't think you could be so sly and malicious, Laurie," repliedMeg, trying to hide her maidenly confusion under a gravelyreproachful air.

"It was altogether abominable, and I don't deserve to bespoken to for a month, but you will, though, won't you?" AndLaurie folded his hands together with such and imploring gesture,as he spoke in his irresistibly persuasive tone, that it wasimpossible to frown upon him in spite of his scandalous behavior.

Meg pardoned him, and Mrs. March's grave face relaxed, inspite of her efforts to keep sober, when she heard him declarethat he would atone for his sins by all sorts of penances, andabase himself like a worm before the injured damsel.

Jo stood aloof, meanwhile, trying to harden her heartagainst him, and succeeding only in primming up her face intoan expression of entire disapprobation. Laurie looked at heronce or twice, but as she showed no sign of relenting, he feltinjured, and turned his back on her till the others were donewith him, when he made her a low bow and walked off without aword.

As soon as he had gone, she wished she had been more forgiving,and when Meg and her mother went upstairs, she feltlonely and longed for Teddy. After resisting for some time,she yielded to the impulse, and armed with a book to return,went over to the big house.

"Is Mr. Laurence in?" asked Jo, of a housemaid, who wascoming downstairs.

"Yes, Miss, but I don't believe he's seeable just yet."

"Why not? Is he ill?"

"La, no Miss, but he's had a scene with Mr. Laurie, who isin one of his tantrums about something, which vexes the oldgentleman, so I dursn't go nigh him."

"Where is Laurie?"

"Shut up in his room, and he won't answer, though I've beena-tapping. I don't know what's to become of the dinner, for it'sready, and there's no one to eat it."

"I'll go and see what the matter is. I'm not afraid of eitherof them."

Up went Jo, and knocked smartly on the door of Laurie'slittle study.

"Stop that, or I'll open the door and make you!" called outthe young gentleman in a threatening tone.

Jo immediately knocked again. The door flew open, and inshe bounced before Laurie could recover from his surprise. Seeingthat he really was out of temper, Jo, who knew how to manage him,assumed a contrite expression, and going artistically down uponher knees, said meekly, "Please forgive me for being so cross. Icame to make it up, and can't go away till I have."

"It's all right. Get up, and don't be a goose, Jo," was thecavalier reply to her petition.

"Thank you, I will. Could I ask what's the matter? You don'tlook exactly easy in your mind."

"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 energeticgesture 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 manto shake me!"

"I don't think anyone would care to try it, if you lookedas much like a thundercloud as you do now. Why were you treatedso?"

"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 breakmy word."

"Couldn't you satisfy your grandpa in any other way?"

"No, he would have the truth, the whole truth, and nothingbut the truth. I'd have told my part of the scrape, if I couldwithout bringing Meg in. As I couldn't, I held my tongue, andbore the scolding till the old gentleman collared me. Then Ibolted, for fear I should forget myself."

"It wasn't nice, but he's sorry, I know, so go down andmake up. I'll help you."

"Hanged if I do! I'm not going to be lectured and pummelledby everyone, just for a bit of a frolic. I was sorry about Meg,and begged pardon like a man, but I won't do it again,when I wasn't in the wrong."

"He didn't know that."

"He ought to trust me, and not act as if I was a baby. It'sno use, Jo, he's got to learn that I'm able to take care ofmyself, and don't need anyone's apron string to hold on by."

"What pepper pots you are!" sighed Jo. "How do you meanto settle this affair?"

"Well, he ought to beg pardon, and believe me when I say Ican't tell him what the fuss's about."

"Bless you! He won't do that."

"I won't go down till he does."

"Now, Teddy, be sensible. Let it pass, and I'll explainwhat I can. You can't stay here, so what's the use of beingmelodramatic?"

"I don't intend to stay here long, anyway. I'll slip off andtake a journey somewhere, and when Grandpa misses me he'll comeround fast enough."

"I dare say, but you ought not to go and worry him."

"Don't preach. I'll go to Washington and see Brooke. It'sgay there, and I'll enjoy myself after the troubles."

"What fun you'd have! I wish I could run off too," saidJo, forgetting her part of mentor in lively visions of martiallife at the capital.

"Come on, then! Why not? You go and surprise your father,and I'll stir up old Brooke. It would be a glorious joke. Let'sdo it, Jo. We'll leave a letter saying we are all right, and trotoff at once. I've got money enough. It will do you good, and noharm, as you go to your father."

For a moment Jo looked as if she would agree, for wild asthe plan was, it just suited her. She was tired of care andconfinement, longed for change, and thoughts of her fatherblended temptingly with the novel charms of camps and hospitals,liberty and fun. Her eyes kindled as they turned wistfullytoward the window, but they fell on the old house opposite,and she shook her head with sorrowful decision.

"If I was a boy, we'd run away together, and have a capital time,but as I'm a miserable girl, I must be proper and stop at home.Don't tempt me, Teddy, it's a crazy plan."

"That's the fun of it," began Laurie, who had got a willfulfit on him and was possessed to break out of bounds in some way.

"Hold your tongue!" cried Jo, covering her ears. "'Prunesand prisms' are my doom, and I may as well make up my mind toit. I came here to moralize, not to hear things that make meskip to think of."

"I know Meg would wet-blanket such a proposal, but Ithought you had more spirit," began Laurie insinuatingly.

"Bad boy, be quiet! Sit down and think of your own sins,don't go making me add to mine. If I get your grandpa toapologize for the shaking, will you give up running away?"asked Jo seriously.

"Yes, but you won't do it," answered Laurie, who wishedto make up, but felt that his outraged dignity must beappeased first.

"If I can manage the young one, I can the old one," muttered Jo,as she walked away, leaving Laurie bent over a railroad mapwith his head propped up on both hands.

"Come in!" and Mr. Laurence's gruff voice sounded grufferthan ever, as Jo tapped at 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 andvexed, but trying not to show it.

"Yes, please. I like old Sam so well, I think I'll try thesecond volume," returned Jo, hoping to propitiate him byaccepting a second dose of Boswell's Johnson, as he had recommendedthat lively work.

The shaggy eyebrows unbent a little as he rolled the stepstoward the shelf where the Johnsonian literature was placed. Joskipped up, and sitting on the top step, affected to be searchingfor her book, but was really wondering how best to introduce thedangerous object of her visit. Mr. Laurence seemed to suspectthat something was brewing in her mind, for after taking severalbrisk turns about the room, he faced round on her, speaking soabruptly that Rasselas tumbled face downward on the floor.

"What has that boy been about? Don't try to shield him. Iknow he has been in mischief by the way he acted when he camehome. I can't get a word from him, and when I threatened toshake the truth out of him he bolted upstairs and locked himselfinto his room."

"He did wrong, but we forgave him, and all promised not tosay a word to anyone," began Jo reluctantly.

"That won't do. He shall not shelter himself behind a promisefrom you softhearted girls. If he's done anything amiss, heshall confess, beg pardon, and be punished. Out with it, Jo.I won't be kept in the dark."

Mr. Laurence looked so alarming and spoke so sharply that Jowould have gladly run away, if she could, but she was perched alofton the steps, and he stood at the foot, a lion in the path, so shehad to stay and brave it out.

The threat sounded awful, but did not alarm Jo, for she knewthe irascible old gentleman would never lift a finger against hisgrandson, whatever he might say to the contrary. She obedientlydescended, and made as light of the prank as she could withoutbetraying Meg or forgetting the truth.

"Hum . . . ha . . . well, if the boy held his tonguebecause he promised, and not from obstinacy, I'll forgive him.He's a stubborn fellow and hard to manage," said Mr. Laurence,rubbing up his hair till it looked as if he had been out in a gale,and smoothing the frown from his brow with an air of relief.

"So am I, but a kind word will govern me when all the king'shorses and all the king's men couldn't," said Jo, trying to saya kind word for her friend, who seemed to get out of one scrapeonly to fall into another.

"You think I'm not kind to him, hey?" was the sharp answer.

"Oh, dear no, Sir. You are rather too kind sometimes, andthen just a trifle hasty when he tries your patience. Don't youthink you are?"

Jo was determined to have it out now, and tried to lookquite placid, though she quaked a little after her bold speech.To her great relief and surprise, the old gentleman only threwhis spectacles onto the table with a rattle and exclaimed frankly,"You're right, girl, I am! I love the boy, but he tries mypatience past bearing, and I know how it will end, if we go on so."

"I'll tell you, he'll run away." Jo was sorry for that speech theminute it was made. She meant to warn him that Laurie would not bearmuch restraint, and hoped he would be more forebearing with the lad.

Mr. Laurence's ruddy face changed suddenly, and he sat down,with a troubled glance at the picture of a handsome man, whichhung over his table. It was Laurie's father, who had run awayin his youth, and married against the imperious old man's will.Jo fancied he remembered and regretted the past, and she wishedshe had held her tongue.

"He won't do it unless he is very much worried, and onlythreatens it sometimes, when he gets tired of studying. I oftenthink I should like to, especially since my hair was cut, so ifyou ever miss us, you may advertise for two boys and look amongthe ships bound for India."

She laughed as she spoke, and Mr. Laurence looked relieved,evidently taking the whole as a joke.

"You hussy, how dare you talk in that way? Where's yourrespect for me, and your proper bringing up? Bless the boysand girls! What torments they are, yet we can't do withoutthem," he said, pinching her cheeks good-humoredly. "Go andbring that boy down to his dinner, tell him it's all right, andadvise him not to put on tragedy airs with his grandfather. Iwon't bear it."

"He won't come, Sir. He feels badly because you didn't believe himwhen he said he couldn't tell. I think the shaking hurt his feelingsvery much."

Jo tried to look pathetic but must have failed, for Mr.Laurence began to laugh, and she knew the day was won.

"I'm sorry for that, and ought to thank him for not shakingme, I suppose. What the dickens does the fellow expect?" andthe old gentleman looked a trifle ashamed of his own testiness.

"If I were you, I'd write him an apology, Sir. He says hewon't come down till he has one, and talks about Washington, andgoes on in an absurd way. A formal apology will make him seehow foolish he is, and bring him down quite amiable. Try it. Helikes fun, and this way is better than talking. I'll carry itup, and teach him his duty."

Mr. Laurence gave her a sharp look, and put on his spectacles,saying slowly, "You're a sly puss, but I don't mind beingmanaged 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 woulduse to another after offering some deep insult. Jo dropped a kisson the top of Mr. Laurence's bald head, and ran up to slip theapology under Laurie's door, advising him through the keyhole tobe submissive, decorous, and a few other agreeable impossibilities.Finding the door locked again, she left the note to do its work,and was going quietly away, when the young gentleman slid downthe banisters, and waited for her at the bottom, saying, with hismost virtuous expression of countenance, "What a good fellow youare, Jo! Did you get blown up?" he added, laughing.

"No, he was pretty mild, on the whole."

"Ah! I got it all round. Even you cast me off over there,and I felt just ready to go to the deuce," he began apologetically.

"Don't talk that way, turn over a new leaf and begin again,Teddy, my son."

"I keep turning over new leaves, and spoiling them, as Iused to spoil my copybooks, and I make so many beginnings therenever will be an end," he said dolefully.

"Go and eat your dinner, you'll feel better after it. Menalways croak when they are hungry," and Jo whisked out at thefront door after that.

"That's a 'label' on my 'sect'," answered Laurie, quotingAmy, as he went to partake of humble pie dutifully with hisgrandfather, who was quite saintly in temper and overwhelminglyrespectful in manner all the rest of the day.

Everyone thought the matter ended and the little cloudblown over, but the mischief was done, for though others forgotit, Meg remembered. She never alluded to a certain person, butshe thought of him a good deal, dreamed dreams more than ever,and once Jo, rummaging her sister's desk for stamps, found abit of paper scribbled over with the words, 'Mrs. John Brooke',whereat she groaned tragically and cast it into the fire, feelingthat Laurie's prank had hastened the evil day for her.