PART 2
29. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
(continued)
Leaving her sister to her own devices, Amy proceeded to enjoy
herself to her heart's content. Mr. Tudor's uncle had married an
English lady who was third cousin to a living lord, and Amy regarded
the whole family with great respect, for in spite of her American
birth and breeding, she possessed that reverence for titles which
haunts the best of us--that unacknowledged loyalty to the early
faith in kings which set the most democratic nation under the sun
in ferment at the coming of a royal yellow-haired laddie, some years
ago, and which still has something to do with the love the young
country bears the old, like that of a big son for an imperious little
mother, who held him while she could, and let him go with a farewell
scolding when he rebelled. But even the satisfaction of talking with
a distant connection of the British nobility did not render Amy forgetful
of time, and when the proper number of minutes had passed, she
reluctantly tore herself from this aristocratic society, and looked
about for Jo, fervently hoping that her incorrigible sister would not
be found in any position which should bring disgrace upon the name of March.
It might have been worse, but Amy considered it bad. For Jo
sat on the grass, with an encampment of boys about her, and a
dirty-footed dog reposing on the skirt of her state and festival dress,
as she related one of Laurie's pranks to her admiring audience. One
small child was poking turtles with Amy's cherished parasol, a second
was eating gingerbread over Jo's best bonnet, and a third playing
ball with her gloves. but all were enjoying themselves, and when Jo
collected her damaged property to go, her escort accompanied her,
begging her to come again, "It was such fun to hear about Laurie's larks."
"Capital boys, aren't they? I feel quite young and brisk again
after that." said Jo, strolling along with her hands behind her,
partly from habit, partly to conceal the bespattered parasol.
"Why do you always avoid Mr. Tudor?" asked Amy, wisely refraining
from any comment upon Jo's dilapidated appearance.
"Don't like him, he puts on airs, snubs his sisters, worries
his father, a nd doesn't speak respectfully of his mother. Laurie
says he is fast, and I don't consider him a desirable acquaintance,
so I let him alone."
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