Page 330 - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

LITTLE WOMEN your friend like to put on it?" in a careless tone. "None at all, if you please, she doesn't wish her name to appear and has no nom de plume," said Jo, blushing in spite of herself. "Just as she likes, of course. The tale will be out next week. Will you call for the money, or shall I send it?" asked Mr. Dashwood, who felt a natural desire to know who his new contributor might be. "I'll call. Good morning, Sir." As she departed, Mr. Dashwood put up his feet, with the grace- ful remark, "Poor and proud, as usual, but she'll do." Following Mr. Dashwood's directions, and making Mrs. North- bury her model, Jo rashly took a plunge into the frothy sea of sen- sational literature, but thanks to the life preserver thrown her by a friend, she came up again not much the worse for her ducking. Like most young scribblers, she went abroad for her characters and scenery, and banditti, counts, gypsies, nuns, and duchesses appeared upon her stage, and played their parts with as much accuracy and spirit as could be expected. Her readers were not particular about such trifles as grammar, punctuation, and prob- ability, and Mr. Dashwood graciously permitted her to fill his col- umns at the lowest prices, not thinking it necessary to tell her that the real cause of his hospitality was the fact that one of his hacks, on being offered higher wages, had basely left him in the lurch. She soon became interested in her work, for her emaciated purse grew stout, and the little hoard she was making to take Beth to the mountains next summer grew slowly but surely as the weeks passed. One thing disturbed her satisfaction, and that was that she did not tell them at home. She had a feeling that Father and Mother would not approve, and preferred to have her own way first, and beg pardon afterward. It was easy to keep her secret, for no name appeared with her stories. Mr. Dashwood had of course found it out very soon, but promised to be dumb, and for a won- der kept his word. She thought it would do her no harm, for she sincerely meant to write nothing of which she would be ashamed, and quieted all pricks of conscience by anticipations of the happy minute when she should show her earnings and laugh over her well-kept se- cret. But Mr. Dashwood rejected any but thrilling tales, and as thrills could not be produced except by harrowing up the souls of the readers, history and romance, land and sea, science and art, po- lice records and lunatic asylums, had to be ransacked for the pur- pose. Jo soon found that her innocent experience had given her 328