PART 2
46. CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
(continued)
"Now shall we go home?" he asked, as if the words were
very pleasant to him.
"Yes, it's late, and I'm so tired." Jo's voice was more
pathetic than she knew. For now the sun seemed to have gone
in as suddenly as it came out, and the world grew muddy and
miserable again, and for the first time she discovered that her
feet were cold, her head ached, and that her heart was colder
than the former, fuller of pain than the latter. Mr. Bhaer
was going away, he only cared for her as a friend, it was all
a mistake, and the sooner it was over the better. With this
idea in her head, she hailed an approaching omnibus with such
a hasty gesture that the daisies flew out of the pot and were
badly damaged.
"This is not our omniboos," said the Professor, waving the
loaded vehicle away, and stopping to pick up the poor little
flowers.
"I beg your pardon. I didn't see the name distinctly. Never
mind, I can walk. I'm used to plodding in the mud," returned Jo,
winking hard, because she would have died rather than openly
wipe her eyes.
Mr. Bhaer saw the drops on her cheeks, though she turned her
head away. The sight seemed to touch him very much, for suddenly
stooping down, he asked in a tone that meant a great deal, "Heart's
dearest, why do you cry?"
Now, if Jo had not been new to this sort of thing she would
have said she wasn't crying, had a cold in her head, or told
any other feminine fib proper to the occasion. Instead of which,
that undignified creature answered, with an irrepressible sob,
"Because you are going away."
"Ach, mein Gott, that is so good!" cried Mr. Bhaer, managing
to clasp his hands in spite of the umbrella and the bundles,
"Jo, I haf nothing but much love to gif you. I came to see if
you could care for it, and I waited to be sure that I was something
more than a friend. Am I? Can you make a little place in your
heart for old Fritz?" he added, all in one breath.
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