at your house, you always seem to be having such good times.”
And Laurie poked the fire to hide a little twitching of the lips that he could not control.
“I wish that instead of peeping, you'd come over and see us. Wouldn't your grandpa let you?”
“I think he would, if your mother asked him,” said Laurie, brightening more and more.
“We are not strangers, we are neighbors, and you won't be a bother. We know all of our neighbors but you.”
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. Grandfather is out, so you needn't be afraid,” said Laurie, getting up.
“I'm not afraid of anything,” returned Jo.
They came to the library, 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 cabinets, and bronzes, and best of all, a great open fireplace.
“What richness!” sighed Jo, sinking into the depth of a velour chair. “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 jumped up, “It's your grandpa!”
“Well, what if it is? You are not afraid of anything, you know,” returned the boy.
“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. I'm only afraid you are very tired of talking to me. It was so pleasant, I couldn't bear to stop,” said Laurie gratefully.
“The doctor to see you, sir,” and the maid beckoned as she spoke.
“Would you mind if I left you for a minute? I suppose I must see him,” said Laurie.
“Don't mind me. I'm happy as a cricket here,” answered Jo.
Laurie went away, and his guest amused herself in her own way. She was standing before a fine portrait of the old gentleman when the door opened again, and without turning, she said decidedly, “I'm sure now that I shouldn't be afraid of him, for he's got kind eyes, though his mouth is grim, and he looks as if he had a tremendous will of his own. He isn't as handsome as my grandfather, but I like him.”
“Thank you, ma'am,” said a gruff voice behind her, and there, to her great dismay, stood old Mr. Laurence.
Poor Jo blushed till she couldn't blush any redder. A second look showed her that the living eyes, under the bushy eyebrows, were kinder even than the painted ones. The old gentleman said, after the dreadful pause, “So you're not afraid of me, hey?”
“Not much, sir.”
“And you don't think me as handsome as your grandfather?”
“Not quite, sir.”
“And I've got a tremendous will, have I?”
“I only said I thought so.”
“But you like me in spite of it?”
“Yes, I do, sir.”
“You've got your grandfather's spirit, if you haven't his face. He was a fine man, my dear, but what is better, he was a brave and an honest one, and I was proud to be his friend.”
“Thank you, sir,” And Jo was quite comfortable after that.
“What have you been doing to this boy of mine, hey?” was the next question, sharply put.
“Only trying to be neighborly, sir.” And Jo told how her visit came about.
“You think he needs cheering up a bit, do you?”
“Yes, sir, he seems a little lonely, and young folks would do him good perhaps. We are only girls, but we should be glad to help if we could, for we don't forget the splendid Christmas present you sent us,” said Jo eagerly.
“Tut, tut, tut! That was the boy's affair. How is the poor woman?”
“Doing nicely, sir.”
“I shall come and see your mother some fine day. There's the tea bell. Come down and go on being neighborly.”
“If you'd like to have me, sir.”
“Shouldn't ask you, if I didn't.” And Mr. Laurence offered her his arm with old-fashioned courtesy.
“What would Meg say to this?” thought Jo, as she was marched away, while her eyes danced with fun as she imagined herself telling the story at home.
“Hey! Why, what the dickens has come to the fellow[14]?” said the old gentleman, as Laurie came running downstairs and stopped at the sight of Jo arm in arm with his grandfather.
“I didn't know you'd come, sir,” he began, as Jo gave him a triumphant little glance.
“That's evident, by the way you ran downstairs. Come to your tea, sir, and behave like a gentleman.”
“She's right, the lad is lonely. I'll see what these little girls can do for him,” thought Mr. Laurence, as he looked and listened. He liked Jo.
They found Mr. Laurence standing before the fire in the great drawing room, but Jo's attention was entirely absorbed by a grand piano, which stood open.
“Do you play?” she asked, turning to Laurie with a respectful expression.
“Sometimes,” he answered modestly.
“Please do now. I want to hear it, so I can tell Beth.”
“Won't you first?”
“Don't know how. Too stupid to learn, but I love music dearly.”
So Laurie played and Jo listened. He played remarkably well and she wished Beth could hear him.
“That will do, that will do, young lady. Too many sugarplums are not good for him. His music isn't bad, but I hope he will do as well in more important things. I hope you'll come again. My respects to your mother. Good night, Doctor Jo.”
He shook hands kindly, but looked as if something did not please him. When they got into the hall, Jo asked Laurie if she had said something wrong. He shook his head.
“No, it was me. He doesn't like to hear me play.”
“Why not?”
“I'll tell you some day.”
“Take care of yourself, won't you?”
“Yes, but you will
what the dickens has come to the fellow – какой черт в него вселился
