PART 2
25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
(continued)
After lunch, people strolled about, by twos and threes, through
the house and garden, enjoying the sunshine without and within. Meg
and John happened to be standing together in the middle of the grass
plot, when Laurie was seized with an inspiration which put the
finishing touch to this unfashionable wedding.
"All the married people take hands and dance round the new-made
husband and wife, as the Germans do, while we bachelors and spinsters
prance in couples outside!" cried Laurie, promenading down the path
with Amy, with such infectious spirit and skill that everyone else
followed their example without a murmur. Mr. and Mrs. March, Aunt
and Uncle Carrol began it, others rapidly joined in, even Sallie
Moffat, after a moment's hesitation, threw her train over her arm
and whisked Ned into the ring. But the crowning joke was Mr.
Laurence and Aunt March, for when the stately old gentleman chass'ed
solemnly up to the old lady, she just tucked her cane under arm, and
hopped briskly away to join hands with the rest and dance about the
bridal pair, while the young folks pervaded the garden like butterflies
on a midsummer day.
Want of breath brought the impromptu ball to a close, and then
people began to go.
"I wish you well, my dear, I heartily wish you well, but I think
you'll be sorry for it," said Aunt March to Meg, adding to the
bridegroom, as he led her to the carriage, "You've got a treasure,
young man, see that you deserve it."
"That is the prettiest wedding I've been to for an age, Ned, and
I don't see why, for there wasn't a bit of style about it," observed
Mrs. Moffat to her husband, as they drove away.
"Laurie, my lad, if you ever want to indulge in this sort of
thing, get one of those little girls to help you, and I shall be
perfectly satisfied," said Mr. Laurence, settling himself in his
easy chair to rest after the excitement of the morning.
"I'll do my best to gratify you, Sir," was Laurie's unusually
dutiful reply, as he carefully unpinned the posy Jo had put in his
buttonhole.
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