PART 2
43. CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
(continued)
"Blest if she ain't in silk from head to foot? Ain't it a relishin'
sight to see her settin' there as fine as a fiddle, anch a happy
procession as filed away into the little dining room! Mr. March
proudly escorted Mrs. Laurence. Mrs. March as proudly leaned on
the arm of `my son'. The old gentleman took Jo, with a whispered,
"You must be my girl now," and a glance at the empty corner by the
fire, that made Jo whisper back, "I'll try to fill her place, sir.
The twins pranced behind, feeling that the millennium was at
hand, for everyone was so busy with the newcomers that they were
left to revel at their own sweet will, and you may be sure they
made the most of the opportunity. Didn't they steal sips of tea,
stuff gingerbread ad libitum, get a hot biscuit apiece, and as a
crowning trespass, didn't they each whisk a captivating little tart
into their tiny pockets, there to stick and crumble treacherously,
teaching them that both human nature and a pastry are frail?
Burdened with the guilty consciousness of the sequestered tarts,
and fearing that Dodo's sharp eyes would pierce the thin disguise of
cambric and merino which hid their booty, the little sinners
attached themselves to `Dranpa', who hadn't his spectacles on. Amy,
who was handed about like refreshments, returned to the parlor on
Father Laurence's arm. The others paired off as before, and this
arrangement left Jo companionless. She did not mind it at the
minute, for she lingered to answer Hannah's eager inquiry.
"Will Miss Amy ride in her coop (coupe), and use all them
lovely silver dishes that's stored away over yander?"
"Shouldn't wonder if she drove six white horses, ate off gold
plate, and wore diamonds and point lace every day. Teddy thinks
nothing too good for her," returned Jo with infinite satisfaction.
"No more there is! Will you have hash or fishballs for breakfast?"
asked Hannah, who wisely mingled poetry and prose.
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