Хорошие жёны / Good wives. Уровень 3

“Now, good and cheap.”

“No slang,” snapped Jo.

“Come, Jo, don’t be thorny.”

“How many bouquets have you sent Miss Randal this week?”

“Not one, upon my word. She’s engaged.”

“I’m glad of it, that’s one of your foolish extravagances, sending flowers and things to girls for whom you don’t care two pins[25 - whom you don’t care two pins – до которых тебе нет дела ни на грош],” continued Jo.

“Sensible girls for whom I care whole papers of pins won’t let me send them ‘flowers and things’, so what can I do? My feelings need an exit.”

“Mother doesn’t approve of flirting even in fun, and you flirt desperately, Teddy.”

“I’ll give anything if I can answer, ‘So do you’. As I can’t, I’ll merely say that I don’t see any harm in that pleasant little game, if all parties understand that it’s only play.”

“Well, it looks pleasant, but I can’t learn how it’s done.”,

“Take lessons of Amy, she has a regular talent for it.”

“Yes, she does it very prettily, and never seems to go too far.”

“I’m glad you can’t flirt. It’s really refreshing to see a sensible, straightforward girl, who can be jolly and kind without making a fool of herself. Between ourselves, Jo, some of the girls I know really do go on at such a rate I’m ashamed of them. They don’t mean any harm, I’m sure, but if they knew how we fellows talked about them afterward, they’d mend their ways, I fancy.”

“They do the same, and as their tongues are the sharpest, you fellows get the worst of it, for you are as silly as they, every bit. If you behaved properly, they would, but knowing you like their nonsense, they keep it up, and then you blame them. If you must have an ‘exit’, Teddy, go and devote yourself to one of the ‘pretty, modest girls’ whom you do respect, and not waste your time with the silly ones.”

“You really advise it?” and Laurie looked at her with an odd mixture of anxiety and merriment in his face.

“Yes, I do.”

Jo lay long awake that night, and was just dropping off when the sound of a stifled sob made her fly to Beth’s bedside, with the anxious inquiry,

“What is it, dear?”

“I thought you were asleep,” sobbed Beth.

“Is it the old pain, my precious?”

“No, it’s a new one, but I can bear it,” and Beth tried to check her tears.

“Tell me all about it, and let me cure it as I often did the other.”

“You can’t, there is no cure.”

There Beth’s voice gave way, and clinging to her sister, she cried so despairingly that Jo was frightened.

“Where is it? Shall I call Mother?”

“No, no, don’t call her, don’t tell her. I shall be better soon. Lie down here. I’ll be quiet and go to sleep, indeed I will.”

“Does anything trouble you, dear?”

“Yes, Jo,” after a long pause.

“Wouldn’t it comfort you to tell me what it is?”

“Not now, not yet.”

“Then I won’t ask, but remember, Bethy, that Mother and Jo are always glad to hear and help you, if they can.”

“I know it. I’ll tell you by-and-by.”

“Is the pain better now?”

“Oh, yes, much better, you are so comfortable, Jo.”

“Go to sleep, dear. I’ll stay with you.”

So cheek to cheek they fell asleep.

But Jo had made up her mind, and after pondering over a project for some days, she confided it to her mother.

“You asked me the other day what my wishes were. I’ll tell you one of them, Mummy,” she began, as they sat along together. “I want to go away somewhere this winter for a change.”

“Why, Jo?” and her mother looked up quickly.

With her eyes on her work Jo answered soberly,

“I want something new. I feel restless and anxious to be seeing, doing, and learning more than I am.”

“Where will you go?”

“To New York. I had a bright idea yesterday, and this is it. You know Mrs. Kirke wrote to you for some respectable young person to teach her children and sew. It’s rather hard to find just the thing, but I think I will fit if I try.”

“My dear, go out to service in that great boarding house[26 - boarding house – пансион]!” and Mrs. March looked surprised, but not displeased.

“It’s not exactly going out to service, for Mrs. Kirke is your friend and would make things pleasant for me, I know. It’s honest work, and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Nor I. But your writing?”

“All the better for the change. I shall see and hear new things, get new ideas.”

“I have no doubt of it, but are these your only reasons for this sudden fancy?”

“No, Mother.”

“May I know the others?”