Page 57 - Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
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down his cheeks, and a maid popped her head in to see what was the matter. "Oh! That does me no end of good. Tell on, please," he said, tak- ing his face out of the sofa cushion, red and shining with merri- ment. Much elated with her success, Jo did 'tell on', all about their plays and plans, their hopes and fears for Father, and the most in- teresting events of the little world in which the sisters lived. Then they got to talking about books, and to Jo's delight, she found that Laurie loved them as well as she did, and had read even more than herself. "If you like them so much, come down and see ours. Grandfa- ther is out, so you needn't be afraid," said Laurie, getting up. "I'm not afraid of anything," returned Jo, with a toss of the head. "I don't believe you are!" exclaimed the boy, looking at her with much admiration, though he privately thought she would have good reason to be a trifle afraid of the old gentleman, if she met him in some of his moods. The atmosphere of the whole house being summerlike, Lau- rie led the way from room to room, letting Jo stop to examine whatever struck her fancy. And so, at last they came to the li- brary, where she clapped her hands and pranced, as she always did when especially delighted. It was lined with books, and there were pictures and statues, and distracting little cabinets full of coins and curiosities, and Sleepy Hollow chairs, and queer tables, and bronzes, and best of all, a great open fireplace with quaint tiles all round it. "What richness!" sighed Jo, sinking into the depth of a velour chair and gazing about her with an air of intense satisfaction. "Theodore Laurence, you ought to be the happiest boy in the world," she added impressively. "A fellow can't live on books," said Laurie, shaking his head as he perched on a table opposite. Before he could more, a bell rang, and Jo flew up, exclaiming with alarm, "Mercy me! It's your grandpa!" "Well, what if it is? You are not afraid of anything, you know," returned the boy, looking wicked. "I think I am a little bit afraid of him, but I don't know why I should be. Marmee said I might come, and I don't think you're any the worse for it," said Jo, composing herself, though she kept her eyes on the door. "I'm a great deal better for it, and ever so much obliged. I'm only afraid you are very tired of talking to me. It was so pleasant, I 55 LOUISA MAY ALCOTT