PART 1
23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
(continued)
Now Aunt March possessed in perfection the art of rousing
the spirit of opposition in the gentlest people, and enjoyed
doing it. The best of us have a spice of perversity in us,
especially when we are young and in love. If Aunt March had
begged Meg to accept John Brooke, she would probably have
declared she couldn't think of it, but as she was preemptorily
ordered not to like him, she immediately made up her mind that
she would. Inclination as well as perversity made the decision
easy, and being already much excited, Meg opposed the old lady
with unusual spirit.
"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.
"Highty-tighty! Is that the way you take my advice, Miss?
You'll be sorry for it by-and-by, when you've tried love in a
cottage and found it a failure."
"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. Meg hardly knew
herself, she felt so brave and independent, so glad to defend
John and assert her right to love him, if she liked. Aunt March
saw that she had begun wrong, and after a little pause, made a
fresh start, saying as mildly as she could, "Now, Meg, my dear,
be reasonable and take my advice. I mean it kindly, and don't
want you to spoil your whole life by making a mistake at the
beginning. You ought to marry well and help your family. It's
your duty to make a rich match and it ought to be impressed
upon you."
"Father and Mother don't think so. They like John though
he is poor."
"Your parents, my dear, have no more worldly wisdom than a
pair of babies."
"I'm glad of it," cried Meg stoutly.
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